#you NEVER want my skin touching yours and i know it's not me it's your own issues but god

[hayatoseyepatch]

Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: Assigning positions I think the Love & Deepspace men would fuck you in. With twitter links! Mostly Inspired by Juno — Sabrina Carpenter.

Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ: Zayne|Rafayel|Xavier|Caleb|Sylus

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ: 3.5 k

Ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｓ: Multiple Characters x Fem!Reader

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: NSFW visuals (videos) in the links, penetrative sex (duh), unprotected sex, praise, degradation, mentions of breeding, use of pet names, manhandling, somnophilia (Xavier’s), cock warming (Rafayel’s), spanking, choking, marking, semi-public sex (Zayne’s).

Ａｕｔｈｏｒ’ｓ Ｎｏｔｅ: Happy New Year everyone! (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭♡ I feel like it has been an absolute MINUTE since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve done headcannons. But with this most recent quad I’m feeling inspired. My writer's block has been absolutely insane someone please save me. I’ve never done this type of post just wanted to test the waters with something different. We also have so little on Caleb so his may not stand the test of time, but we shall see LMAO. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Ｘａｖｉｅｒ － Ｓｐｏｏｎｉｎｇ

Xavier wasn’t sure how he slept at night before having you in his arms again. Rousing from sleep he couldn’t help but smile into the back of your neck, nose burying itself in the hair that rested at the base of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He never knew a smell could make him feel so at ease, but also stir up such heat in the pit of his stomach. His hands wandered your sleeping from, seeking out the warmth radiating from your skin. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the them of your sleep shirt, mind fuzzy and still glazed over with sleep. He was acting purely on instinct, and by the way you subtly arched your back into his touch as a large hand slipped beneath the swell of your breast — you were too.

The plush of your skin was so malleable beneath his fingers, thumb swiping the stiff peak of your hardened nipple as his lips kiss a trail up and down the side your neck. Swallowing a groan when his hips roll into the swell of your ass, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber just yet. His tongue slips past his lips to lick a fat stripe up the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. Desperation growing, the kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, marking your skin as his hips continued to grind against you from behind. Xavier was so lost in the feel of you he nearly missed the groan that slipped from your lips and the way you began to grind back against him. Almost. Moving his lips to press against your ear, his voice is breathy and laced with yearning.

“Please bunny, need to be inside you, cant take it anymore.”

You were too groggy, still half asleep, so all you're able to muster is rolling your hips back on his own as your sign of approval. And that was all Xavier needed. Deft fingers pull your panties to the side, quick to also push down the waistband of his sleep pants, freeing his throbbing cock from their confines. He grips the base of himself with a shaky hand, using the head of his cock to part your folds. He allows himself a moment to swipe himself up your slit, collecting your wetness to use as lube. The head of his cock brushing your clit with every pass. Before long you finally felt the glorious stretch of him pushing past your entrance, sinking slowly inch by inch into your awaiting cunt. The both of you let out sighs of matched contentment as you take him to the base.

Xavier stays there for a moment, relishing the feel of your warmth engulfing him. However, his patience has its limits, and this yarning for you wins out as he begins to move. Xavier sets a steady pace from the start, using his grip on your breast and another on your hip as leverage to guide his thrusts, deep and shallow as his mouth continues it’s attention to the sensitive skin of your neck. Rocking his hips, angling them to hit that spot nestled deep inside you that has your vision blurring more with every pass. You knew neither of you would last long, not like this.

It seemed as if Xavier slept so much to simply replenish the energy needed to fuck you more. It was rare for you both to have a day off, and he didn’t intend on letting you leave this bed anytime soon. Not when your voice, airy and rasp from sleep, called his name so sweetly. Not when he could feel your walls spasming around him in an attempt to milk his cock for all he was worth. And especially not when you abruptly turn your head, lips slotting over his own in a desperate kiss, forcing him to swallow your moans as you came around his cock for the first of many times that day.

��ａｙｎｅ － Ｄｏｇｇｙ Ｓｔｙｌｅ

Zayne liked to consider himself a patient man, not one to lose his cool or one to give in when that patience is tested. But he is also a man, and everyone has their limits. Those limits being you coming into his place of work for your checkup lacking panties. He was suspicious from the moment you came in, wearing that smile that always alerted him to you being up to something. The small upward turn of your lips and poorly concealed anticipation lighting your features. He knew you better than anyone and always knew even the slightest change in you behavior. So as you sat on the examination table, he scrutinized you.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong, doctor?”

That was his second inclination, the way you purred his profession title, as if the both of you did not share the same bed at night. With a lifted eyebrow he sanitizes his hands before sliding his gloves over deft fingers, scrutinizing eyes overlooking your frame. Taking this opportunity, you cross one leg over the under, the short length of your skirt revealing just whet you weren’t wearing underneath. Today had been a long day for Zayne, several surgeries and a booked schedule causing hm to miss his lunch. Hoping to get some reprieve with your presence he supposes at least it was thoughtful of you to bring him that lunch he missed out on.

 He wasted no time in locking the door to the examination room, coming to you in long strides before dropping to his knees. Strong, gloved, hands parting your thighs as he delves into your folds like a man starved. Zayne was usually a patient lover, taking his time to savor every part of you, making sure you’ve been thoroughly satisfied before indulging in his own pleasure. That was not the case today, eating your cunt until it was dripping with a combination of your arousal and his saliva, he stands to his feet. Not so much as bothering to remove his lab coat as he undoes his buckle. You only get a momentary glance of his cock before the world shifts. Using his strength to easily flip you over on the examination table. Bunching your skirt past your hips to expose your ass to his hungry gaze. A latex covered hand comes down on your ass in a harsh smack, fingers grasping the plump skin of your ass, using his grip to expose your dripping cunt to him. He sinks himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust. Leaning over to press his lips against your ear.

“You want to act like a slut, darling? Then I’ll fuck you like a slut.”

Zayne sets a steady pace from the start, relishing in the sounds he not only pulls from your lips but from your cunt as well. Loud squelching and the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo against the walls of the room. His fingers curling against the column of your throat, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingers, as he uses his grip to aid in bouncing you back on his cock. He could feel the way your walls were fluttering around him, knowing the cut to your airflow with his earlier actions were sending you spiraling toward your release. Effortlessly he slides his free hand beneath you, fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit. Feeling you tighten around him coupled with hearing the begs and pleas that spill from your lips is all the encouragement Zayne needed. His hips lose the steady pace he had set opting instead to slap harshly and erratically against your own, chasing his high.

The sheer pleasure running through his veins is nearly overwhelming, spilling inside you with a groan. He was sure his sheer volume would be enough to rival your own, however he couldn't find it within himself to care too lost in the way you were making him feel. His hips continually rolling against yours even after he has spilled every last drop he had to offer deep within your walls, before the overstimulation he was giving himself becomes painful. He pulls from you, resting back on his heels, using a thumb to part you folds as he hungrily watches your cunt contract around nothing, his come starting to drip from your abused pussy, letting out a groan at the sight.

“How sweet of you to bring me lunch, darling. Now lets get you home for some rest, doctor’s orders.”

Ｓｙｌｕｓ － Ｍａｔｉｎｇ Ｐｒｅｓｓ

Sylus hated being away from you, between your job and Onychinus the both of you hadn’t been afforded the opportunity of spending too much time together as of late. Your opposing sleep schedules only aided in your recent separation, you coming home to him still asleep and just coming home as you opened your eyes. It was driving him mad. Pent-up frustration had his temper short and his trigger finger happy. So after an insistence from Luke and Kieran to return to your shared home early for the day, he would make no complaints. He hammed as he entered the home, seeing you just getting ready to tuck into bed. Eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts, he was on you in an instant. Eyes rolling back at your scent, mixing with his own on your skin. Only to have you laid bare split open on his cock as quickly as he would allow himself to.

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed. Though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His grip stays firm on the backs of your thighs keeping them pressed to your chest to reach the deepest parts of you. Loving the way your eyes roll back as you struggle to form even a coherent sentence from the way he used your body. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck as you struggle to get out the syllables of his name. Coming broken between thrusts of his hips.

“Awh my poor little kitten, she’s getting her cunt fucked so good she can't even finish my name. Poor thing, here let daddy take care of you sweetie.”

He grins, reattaching his lips to your neck. Tongue, teeth, and lips marking the sensitive skin. He removes one hand from your knee. Eyes flickering with unbridled lust when our grip replaces his own, keeping your leg pressed where it was before he cold even obey you to do so. The thumb of his free hand slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit. Popping it from your mouth he used the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. A loud cry falls from your lips, your unoccupied hand flying to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound, lest Luke and Kieran hear your cries for their boss within their rooms. Noticing the hand you attempt to use to cover your mouth he grabs your wrist pinning it to the mattress next to your ear with the hand that was just overstimulating your clit.

“Sorry sweetie, I want to hear every cry, curse and whimper that falls from those lips, let me hear you kitten.”

He wastes no time returning the pace he had set, loud squelching and your moans filling the room like the sweetest symphony. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips are finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him and pressing a long loving kiss to your lips.

Ｒａｆａｙｅｌ － Ｃｏｗｇｉｒｌ

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat here, when your boyfriend had asked if you wanted to sit with him while he finished his painting, you hadn’t envisioned that you would be doing that sat on his lap with his cock nestled deep inside you. Cock warming with Rafayel never ended in just that, his pleading excuse of “It helps me concentrate, cutie, please?” had you falling for it every time. Every shift in his seat, every time he reached over to dip his brush in the paint on his pallet, sent his cock deeper inside your drooling cunt. You were sure he knew it too, felt the way that even plugged with his cock, your arousal still leaked around you both. That he felt it dripping down his skin. You could only hope this was nearly as torturous for him as it was for you. By the sweat forming on his brow, and the way his paintbrush trembled in his grasp, you were sure it was.

And you would be correct.

It wasn’t long until the painting was long forgotten, Rafayel’s lips consuming your own, as if on a mission to lose himself in the embrace. Skilled hands removed your dress with ease, the lingering paint on his skin, staining your own as you hastily removed his shirt. His eyes zeroed in on the colors adorning your skin, a tangible reminder of his touch, he places a hand on your back to steady you, reaching over to coat his hand in the paint that was on his easel. He grips your wrist as he rolls his hips up into your waiting cunt, lips attaching themselves to the delicate skin of your collarbone, kissing a trail up to the shell of your ear. His hot breaths against the sensitive skin has a shiver raking up your spine in his grasp.

“Go on cutie, put your hand in the paint, want you to make a masterpiece on my skin, my muse.”

Grabbing your wrist, he dips your hand in the paint, just as he had done. A desperate whine slips past your lips when he thrusts sharply upward, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin in their grip. Using your hold on him as leverage to keep bouncing on his cock, the paint marking him, the sight of it on his skin makes your head fuzzy. Seeing the remnants of you on him has you touching him more, smearing the paint on his skin. You continue your movements, bouncing on his cock in time with his upward thrusts. Head dipping downward to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue laving over the bud as the sound of skin against skin fills the studio.

Your thighs tremble from the burn of exertion of your repeated movements. Sensing you were coming to your end, Rafayel comes to your aid. Hands gripping the plush of your hips as he fucks up into you, heels digging into the bar at the bottom of his stool to ground himself as he meets each one of your thrusts with one of his own. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every tremble, every quiver of your cunt, every desperate sound that fell from your lips he could identify as you nearing your end. His mouth switches to pay attention to your opposite nub teeth and tongue giving it the same treatment in time with the push of his hips. Pulling from you with a 'pop' to grit his teeth, baring down to keep his composure before you were able to release before him. He lets you pull him close hips snapping relentlessly thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock in your release. It sends him hurtling to his own release hips slapping violently against your own as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest pressing tender kisses everywhere his lips could reach.

“Such a good girl for me, cutie. Look at you, I think this might just be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Ｃａｌｅｂ － Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎａｒｙ

Caleb had always thought himself lucky to have spent so much time with you. He had the privilege of watching you grow, being by your side through so many monumental moments in your life. Birthdays, graduations, holidays — he got to spend every last one of them by your side. But the more you both grew older the more he realized you hadn’t seen him the way he had seen you, at least he hadn’t thought so. The way you had always treated him had felt so platonic, with no hope for you to ever see the way he had felt for you For him it was never platonic, being in love with you for longer than he could remember. And now, even as you both hastily pulled your lips from each other only long enough to rid each other’s clothes from your trembling bodies, he couldn’t believe you were finally his.

Caleb had dreamed of this for years. Having you like this, being able to touch you like this, seeing the way your face contorted in pleasure as you trembled beneath him. For once seeing him differently, not the sweet boy from your childhood, but as a man. Could only imagine the delicious way his name would sound not in the way he had always heard it but practically purred when laced with lust-fueled ecstasy. He was basking in it. The way you felt beneath his fingers as you trembled from his touch. Had fisted his cock on lonely nights to the mere thought of ever having you like this. Had spilled into his palm as he finished with your name on his lips.

But now he had you, and he had no plans on letting you go any time soon. He lets out a groan into your neck as he sinks into you, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried balls deep in your awaiting cunt. His eyes roll back at the way you greedily pull him in deeper, the fluttering walls of your cunt urging him to begin to move. He starts with deep shallow thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling of your welcoming walls after so many years of yearning. Needing to feel your deepest parts and enjoy every moment of being connected with you. However, he had his limits and the sweet way you cooed his name as you urged him on has him picking up the pace. His hips setting a steadfast pace, going deeper with each pass, gripping your hips as you call out his name.

He can't help it, the feeling of your velvety walls surrounding him, sucking him in for all he was worth, he throws his head back with another loud groan as he slowly withdraws his hips, pulling back until just the mushroom tip of his cock remains inside. With a perfect snap of his hips, aided by the sheer amount of wetness that had gathered to this point he enters back in with ease before picking up the pace again. His gaze returned to you, only to see how your arm was thrown over your face shielding you from him and muffling the sweet sounds spilling from your lips. Grabbing your wrist, he pins it firmly against the mattress beneath you, striking eyes boring into your own.

“Look at me, pipsqueak. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

Caleb's voice came out gruff, desperate, as the pads of his fingers sank into the plush of your cheeks — forcing your gaze to remain locked on his own. The nickname you had heard your whole life now took on a different edge, sounding almost foreign to our ears.

“Need to see the look in your eyes as you lose yourself on my cock baby.”

Dividers, character banners, & writing by me. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Network tags: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn

[d-z20]

More Than You Will Ever Know (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: For most of your time at college, you've been in a relationship with your sugar mommy, Agatha Harkness. Everything is going great except for the fact you are about to graduate and with that comes change

- OR -

What happens when you turn up at her door months later. It's sex, sex happens.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol, sugar mommy Agatha with a few grey hairs 😍, sugar baby Reader, established dynamic, Mommy kink, strap riding (R recv), squirting, angst, a little hurt/comfort, both Agatha and Reader are switches, fingering (R recv), oral (both recv), multiple orgasms, soft aftercare

Words: 5.9k

A/N: This probably isn't the fic y'all were expecting when I said I was doing a sugar mommy Agatha post... but I hope you enjoy it anyway my lovelies ;) requested fic

AO3 | Masterlist

The restaurant you were at was one of those exclusive places with no menu—just a personal chef curating a bespoke experience, each dish a masterpiece plated with precision. You weren’t sure what half the things on your plate were, but Agatha, ever composed, swirled a glass of deep red wine and explained each one with a knowing smirk.

She sat across from you, effortlessly elegant in a dark silk blouse, her silver streaks catching in the dim candlelight. You’d barely sat down before she leaned forward, her fingers brushing over yours, and said, “You look stunning tonight, darling.”

You did, of course, because she’d made sure of it. The dress you wore—a sleek, custom-made piece in a colour that suited your skin perfectly—was her gift. She had it delivered earlier that day, instructing you to wear it to your graduation as well. “Something beautiful for someone extraordinary,” she had hummed as she held it up against your body, assessing the fit before insisting on getting it tailored just a little more.

Throughout dinner, she was her usual indulgent self, ordering the best of everything and ensuring you never had to lift a finger. When the waiter poured more champagne into your flute, she merely tilted her head with amusement and said, “We’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

And celebrate she did—showering you with praise between bites of delicacies, her voice rich with something dangerously close to pride.

“I always knew you could do it,” she said, her thumb lazily tracing the stem of her wine glass. “You’re brilliant, and I’ve seen it from the very beginning. Your mind—fuck, it’s a wonder and a privilege to witness. I hope you know that.”

Warmth spread through you, not just from the alcohol but from the way she looked at you—as if you were the only thing worth admiring in this whole damn place. You ducked your head, feeling the heat creep up your neck, but Agatha wasn’t having any of that. She reached across the table, tilting your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet her gaze.

"None of that, baby," she chastised softly. "You’ve worked so hard, and now you're finally here. I am so proud of you."

Your heart squeezed, and before you could even form a response, she was placing a small velvet box in your hand. "Not yet," she hummed when you made to open it, her lips curling in amusement. "Save it for later."

You didn’t press, instead slipping the small box into your bag—another thing Agatha had insisted on buying for you.

And, in this moment, life was perfect.

—

Heat. Skin against skin. The soft rustle of silk sheets as your body moved against hers, your fingers digging into toned muscle. Agatha beneath you, her hands firm on your hips, guiding you, encouraging you, worshipping you in the way only she knew how. The air was thick with the smell of perfume and sex.

"You take me so well, baby," she rasped, her voice hoarse with want, nails dragging down your spine, leaving trails of pleasure in their wake.

Your head was spinning, pleasure pooling in your stomach, tightening unbearably. She always did this to you—reduced you to nothing but need, left you craving her touch even when she was already giving you everything. And right now, you could feel her inside you, the stretch of silicone filling you so perfectly it had you trembling, your body fluttering around the unyielding length with every slow, deliberate roll of your hips.

"Mommy," you mewled, your voice high and breathless, and Agatha groaned in response, her grip on you tightening.

"That’s right, baby," she purred, voice molten. "Come on, let me hear you. Let me feel you."

A desperate moan left your lips, your thighs shaking as she bucked up into you, her hands guiding your movements in a way that made you dizzy with need. Every stroke had you gasping, the friction deep and deliberate, hitting your g-spot over and over again. But it wasn’t just that—Agatha’s mouth was on you too, hot and wet, her lips closing around your nipple as she sucked, her tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, sending another sharp jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"So fucking perfect," she praised, letting her fingers slide up to cup your jaw, tilting your head down until your lips were only a breath away. "You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you?"

"Y-Yes, Mommy," you gasped, barely coherent, but she swallowed your sounds with a kiss, deep and possessive.

The pressure coiled tighter, impossibly so, your body alight with sensation, every nerve ending sparking under her touch. You could feel another orgasm building, stealing the breath from your lungs, your nails sinking into her shoulders as you chased that final, devastating peak.

"That's it, my love," she groaned, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Cum for me, baby."

And you did. A shattered moan, body arching, the pleasure tearing through you like fire. The intensity was blinding, overwhelming; your entire body tensed, then gave way to the sheer force of your climax. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the pleasure burst free, your thighs trembling violently as you soaked the strap buried deep inside you.

Agatha groaned low, feeling the warmth spread between her legs, the slick mess you had made drenching the harness, the sheets, and her own skin. “Fuck, baby,” she husked, her voice thick with satisfaction, her hands gripping your hips as if to steady you. “Look at you... so perfect.”

Your breath came in rapid pants, your limbs weak, your body still wracked with aftershocks. The evidence of your pleasure was undeniable—your arousal staining the sheets beneath you, glistening against Agatha’s stomach just above where the strap had pressed flush against her. She let out a pleased hum, her fingers tracing soothing circles on your back as you collapsed against her, utterly spent.

“There you go, baby,” she whispered, her voice softer now, almost reverent. “You did so well for Mommy.”

Her hands ran slowly, worshipfully, over your spine, grounding you as you shivered against her. She pressed lazy, lingering kisses to your temple, your cheek, your shoulder, anywhere she could reach, while both of you struggled to catch your breath. The world beyond these walls didn’t exist; there was only the warmth of her embrace, the way she murmured your name like a prayer, the soft hum of contentment vibrating against your skin.

You belonged here. With her. Always.

And yet, you didn’t notice the way her expression shifted, the way her hold tightened just a fraction, as if she were memorising the feel of you, as if she were already preparing to let you go.

—

The sun dipped below the skyline as you sat on the edge of Agatha’s expansive marble countertop, feeling a familiar weight in the air. Less than twenty-four hours ago, you had been wrapped in her arms, your body trembling with pleasure, her voice thick with praise as she called you perfect. She had spoilt you rotten—an extravagant dinner, a new dress, a reminder that she was proud of you, that she always knew you’d make it. Things had felt so whole, so right.

But tonight? Tonight felt like the cruellest contrast.

Agatha’s penthouse, usually brimming with her presence, warm and commanding, felt cold and distant. She was pacing the living room, arms crossed, her sharp blue eyes avoiding yours. There was no teasing smirk, no playful remark about how well you took her the night before. The tension in the air was suffocating, pressing against your chest like a vice.

Finally, she broke the silence with a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You’re about to graduate, Y/N,” she began, her voice smooth yet clipped. "I think it's time we stop pretending that this... arrangement... still serves either of us."

You blinked, your stomach plummeting. Just last night, she had held you so tightly, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. And now she was speaking as if the last three and a half years were nothing more than a fleeting indulgence.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the words came out too sharp, too raw.

Her eyes flickered toward you, her lips twisting into a teasing smirk, but it didn’t carry the same warmth it usually did. “Oh, don’t look so surprised, darling. You have a great job lined up and a whole life ahead of you. You don’t need me to be your sugar mommy anymore."

The words stung. You swallowed against the lump rising in your throat, masking it with a hollow laugh. "I don’t need you? Is that what you think?"

"You don’t need a sugar mommy," she corrected, her voice carrying that sharp edge that cut deeper than you wanted to admit. “I’m saying it’s time for you to grow up. To live your life without being bound to anything—or anyone.”

The finality in her words left you breathless. This wasn’t a joke. There was no hint of her usual playful cruelty. 

She really meant it.

“I don’t want that, Agatha,” you said softly, your voice cracking just a little, but your pride wouldn’t let you break. “I’m not ready for it.”

“Oh, I know you’re not,” she replied smoothly, turning away to pour herself a drink. The sound of liquid hitting glass was deafening in the quiet room. “But you’ll be fine. You’ll forget about me and find someone more your speed. Someone young and eager to be your equal, not just someone who's... well, who’s old enough to be your mother.”

A sharp sting bloomed in your chest, a dull, aching wound. Three and a half years down had come down to this. It started as just a simple arrangement—she took care of you financially, and you gave her company and affection in return. But somewhere along the way, something deeper had blossomed between you two, something neither of you had been brave enough to admit. And now she was discarding it like it had never meant anything at all.

She turned back to face you then, and for a brief moment, there was something else in her eyes—something softer, maybe even hesitant. But then it was gone, masked by that familiar smirk, the one she always used when she wanted to hide her vulnerability.

“Look, sweetheart, I’m doing this for you. You don’t need me holding you back. Go out there. Find yourself. It’ll be better for the both of us.”

Your chest was tight, the weight of her words suffocating. “I don’t want anyone else,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath. “I only want you.”

She scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but like I’ve said, you'll get over it.”

You let out a hollow, defeated scoff of your own, staring down at your feet as you willed yourself not to cry. When you finally spoke, your voice was eerily indifferent. “Okay.”

You grabbed your bag, turned on your heel, and stormed out, slamming the door behind you with a force that rattled the walls.

The moment you stepped onto the busy street, the cold air hit you like a slap in the face, but it wasn’t enough to stop the sting behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears, refusing to let the world see you like this.

But when you finally made it back to your apartment, the second the door clicked shut behind you, everything crumbled.

Your bag slipped from your shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull thud, but you barely noticed as your knees gave out beneath you. You collapsed onto the hardwood, your entire body shaking, the weight of it all crashing down on you at once. The tears burnt as they spilt over, hot and unstoppable, rolling down your cheeks in thick, messy trails.

It wasn’t just crying—it was full-body, gut-wrenching, ugly sobbing. The kind that left your chest aching, your throat raw, and your limbs trembling. It felt like your heart had been shattered, and now it was cutting your hands to shreds as you desperately tried to gather the pieces.

You gasped for breath, curling in on yourself, hands clutching at your arms as if you could physically hold yourself together. But nothing could stop the pain or the gaping void that Agatha had left behind.

Your fingers reached for the armrest of your couch and found the hoodie she had bought for you last month, and you clung to it like a lifeline, burying your face into the fabric that still smelt like her. Just a few weeks ago, you would have never imagined this—never imagined she’d leave you, that she’d end things so cruelly.

You thought it would never end.

But it had.

And as you lay there, curled up on the floor, crying yourself to sleep in a hoodie that smelt like the woman who just broke your heart, you failed to notice how the small velvet box she had given you had slipped from your bag and slid under the couch, out of sight.

—

The days following Agatha’s decision felt like a blur. You tried to move on, to focus on your future. The job offer you’d received was a great opportunity, and Agatha had made a valid point about your independence. You told yourself this was for the best, that you could do this, that you could build a life outside of her.

But no matter how much you tried, every minute without her felt like a slow death.

Your apartment, once a sanctuary, now felt hollow. The bed was too big and too cold without her beside you. Mornings were the worst—waking up alone, reaching instinctively for her only to be met with empty sheets. You used to wake to the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, her voice teasing as she coaxed you into wakefulness with slow kisses and whispered praises. Now, silence stretched endlessly, suffocating in its vastness.

You kept yourself busy, throwing yourself into the final few weeks of college life as graduation loomed closer. You accepted invitations to go out with friends and tried to lose yourself in the crowds, in the laughter, in the distractions, but it never worked. Conversations blurred together, nights out felt dull, and no matter how much you smiled or how much you laughed at someone’s joke, you felt empty. It wasn’t just loneliness. It was Agatha.

You missed her. Desperately.

You missed the sound of her laughter when she was genuinely amused—not the polite, calculated chuckle she gave in social settings, but the real one, the one that made her eyes crinkle and her entire body shake, a soft snort escaping her. You missed the way she would kiss your forehead absentmindedly, as if it were second nature, the way she’d roll her eyes at you but always, always indulge you. You missed the way she touched you, not just in the heat of passion but in the quiet moments—her hand on your lower back as she guided you through a door, her fingers tracing soothing patterns against your thigh as she read, the way she’d brush your hair back just to get a better look at you.

But most of all, you missed the way she saw you.

Because no matter how much success came your way, no matter how proud your professors were, no matter how many congratulatory messages you received, it all felt muted. Distant. Like something was missing, like a shadow had been cast over every achievement. And you knew exactly what it was.

It was Agatha.

She was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

You reckoned she had completely moved on, that she was thriving in your absence. You convinced yourself of it because what other choice did you have? The world wouldn’t let you forget her. She was too deeply woven into it.

Her name popped up in conversations—friends of friends mentioning her in passing, mutual connections keeping her name alive. And then there was social fucking media.

You didn’t follow her, of course. That would’ve been masochistic. But that didn’t stop her from appearing on all of your feeds, no matter the platform—through tagged photos, through shared articles, through snippets of interviews that made their way into your timeline.

She was back in full force, attending galas, closing deals, and commanding every room she stepped into. She was radiant, powerful, and untouchable. The world saw her as she always had been: composed. And it made you sick.

Because if she could move on so effortlessly, why couldn’t you?

—

It only got worse after graduation.

You should have been happy. You had finally done it—achieved everything you had worked so hard for. Your professors beamed with pride, and your family sent messages filled with love and admiration. Your friends celebrated you, taking you out, making toasts in your name.

And yet, through it all, the joy never felt whole.

Your graduation gown felt wrong without Agatha there to see it. The dress she had bought you clung to your body like a second skin, but instead of making you feel unstoppable, it felt wrong. Hollow. As if the fabric itself had been stripped of its magic, leaving behind nothing but an empty, uncomfortable reminder of what you had lost. What once made you feel desired now only makes you feel abandoned. 

As you stood on that stage, accepting your degree, you couldn’t help but scan the crowd, your heart foolishly hoping, just for a second, that you’d see her there. That she would be watching, pride shining in her eyes, just as she had promised.

But she wasn’t there and that should have been your final sign, the last nail in the coffin.

And yet it wasn’t.

Because you still needed her.

Not for her money, not for the extravagant gifts or the lavish lifestyle. You needed her. Her wit, her sharp tongue, the way she challenged you, pushed you, believed in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. You needed the way she made you feel—cherished, adored, hers.

But she was gone and the world just kept on turning.

—

It took a few months, but eventually, the truth hit you like a freight train.

You couldn’t move on. You couldn’t picture a future without her. Your job was exciting, sure, but it was nothing compared to what you had with Agatha. The thought of another person touching you, holding you, even kissing you—it felt wrong. You only wanted her.

You had only ever wanted her.

You were cleaning your apartment when you dropped a pen and it had rolled beneath the couch, disappearing into the shadows. With a huff, you crouched down, reaching blindly, fingers brushing against something soft. Velvet.

Your breath caught in your throat.

The box.

You pulled it out slowly, heart hammering in your chest. The moment you saw it, the memories rushed back; the dinner, the way Agatha had smiled at you with something unreadable in her eyes when she handed it over, the way she told you not to open it yet.

You swallowed hard and flipped the lid open.

Inside sat the most breathtaking ring. It was perfect. A piece so intricate and unmistakably you that it stole the air from your lungs.

Agatha had listened. She had remembered.

You had mentioned it once, maybe twice, in passing. About how you could never find anything quite right, how everything in stores always felt too impersonal, too generic. And yet, here it was. Commissioned. Designed just for you.

Your fingers trembled as you lifted it from the box, your eyes catching on the engraving along the inside.

"More than you will ever know."

Your breath hitched.

What did it mean? More than you would ever know… what? That she cared for you more than you realised? That she—

Your heart surged and shattered all over again.

How could she give you this and then break things off a day later?

It didn’t make sense.

And suddenly, you had to see her.

You barely remembered throwing on a coat, stuffing the box into your pocket, and hailing a cab. The moment you arrived at her building, you asked the concierge not to alert her. The doorman, who knew you after the countless times you came here for Agatha, hesitated before nodding, letting you up without question.

Your pulse was deafening as you knocked loudly on her door.

The seconds stretched unbearably.

And then—

The door swung open, revealing Agatha in silk loungewear, her hair in soft waves, her expression unreadable.

She was poised as always, but something was different.

Her eyes were tired. The dark circles beneath them barely concealed, her sharp features softer than you remembered. And suddenly, you wondered, had she actually moved on? Or was she just keeping up appearances?

Her lips curled into a familiar smirk, but there was no bite to it this time. No amusement.

"You look like hell, Y/N," she noted, voice unexpectedly soft.

You blinked, realising only now that fresh tears had fallen from your eyes on the way up to her apartment.

"Thanks," you replied, forcing a humourless smile. Your throat tightened. "I’ve missed you."

Agatha hesitated. Her gaze flickered over your face, searching, but for what, you weren’t sure.

"I thought I told you to move on," she said, voice quieter this time.

"I can’t," you confessed, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

She didn’t stop you.

"I’ve tried. You’re all I want, Agatha. I don’t need anyone else, and I don’t want to."

She sighed, crossing her arms, tapping her fingers against her sleeve in that way she always did when she was thinking too much. "This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be, you know."

Her voice was weary, laced with something close to regret.

"You’re supposed to live your life. You deserve someone who can give you what I can’t–"

"You give me everything," you butt in.

The words left you without hesitation, your feet carrying you closer, your heart pounding as your fingers brushed against the silk of her robe. "I don’t need anything else. I never did."

Her eyes darkened.

The breath between you was charged, heavy, thick with something you both had been suppressing for far too long.

"Y/N, don’t say things you don’t mean," she whispered, but her voice wavered. "I’m not going to–"

But she didn’t get a chance to finish. You leaned in, and the moment your lips met, the world shattered.

She gasped softly, just before her hands found your waist, pulling you flush against her. The kiss was desperate, urgent, and needy. A collision of everything unspoken between you.

Agatha responded immediately, claiming your mouth with a hunger that sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

"Fuck," she breathed against your lips before kissing you deeper, her grip tightening, pulling you impossibly close. "You’re going to be the death of me."

Your only response was a soft whimper, fingers tangling in her hair as you pressed yourself against her, already drunk on the feeling of her after so long apart.

"I missed you," you murmured between kisses, hands slipping under the robe, palms pressing against her warm, bare skin. "I missed you so much."

Agatha groaned, walking you back toward the bedroom.

"Show me how much."

The second your back hit the bed, Agatha was on top of you, mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone. She tugged impatiently at your shirt, and you helped her strip it away before her hands slid down, claiming you as if she never wanted to let go again.

Your legs wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as she kissed down your body, teasing, tasting, until all you could do was whimper and beg.

"Mommy," you moaned, arching beneath her as her mouth found your chest, teeth grazing over sensitive skin before her tongue soothed the sting.

She groaned at the sound of the title slipping from your lips, her fingers gripping your hips, keeping you exactly where she wanted you.

"That’s right, baby," she murmured, voice dripping with want. "Let me take care of you. Let me remind you exactly who you belong to."

You gasped as her hands roamed lower, her touch setting every nerve in your body alight.

But before she could go further, your fingers curled around her wrist, stopping her.

Agatha’s brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at you, lips parted, eyes burning with desire but shadowed with something else.

"Why did you give me the ring?" You asked, your voice a whisper, fragile but demanding.

She stilled.

Her breath slowed.

For a long moment, she didn’t speak, her gaze searching yours as if trying to decide whether to run or to finally give in.

You swallowed hard and continued.

"You had it made just for me. You knew exactly what I wanted before I even knew myself. And then you gave it to me, only to leave the next day."

A crack formed in her carefully constructed mask.

"It wasn’t supposed to be like this," Agatha admitted finally, voice raw. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"By breaking my heart?"

Her jaw tensed. "By letting you go before I ruined you. Before I kept you."

Your fingers tightened around her wrist. "I wanted to be kept."

Her eyes flickered with pain, but before she could protest, you reached into the pocket of your discarded coat and pulled out the small velvet box.

You flipped it open between you, revealing the ring—the proof that she had always known you, had always loved you, even if she had never said the words.

"Then tell me what it means," you whispered.

Her throat bobbed as she looked at the engraving.

"More than you will ever know."

Agatha exhaled sharply and sat up, running a hand through her tousled hair. 

"It means..." she hesitated, then shook her head with a self-deprecating chuckle. "It means I’m a coward."

You frowned, shifting onto your side to face her fully. "Agatha–"

She cut you off with a sigh, her fingers ghosting over your wrist, like she needed to touch you to ground herself. "I was going to explain it all that night. Before I—before I convinced myself you were better off without me." She scoffed lightly, as if irritated at her own foolishness. "I thought pushing you away would make it easier for you to move on. That it would be easier for me."

Your breath caught. "And was it?"

Her gaze softened, and she gave you a small, sad smile. "No. It was hell."

Something in your chest cracked wide open. You reached for her hand, lacing your fingers together, grounding yourself in her warmth. "What does the engraving mean?" You ask again.

She let out a breath like she had been holding it for months. And then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, she said the words you had been waiting for all along.

"It meant... it means I love you, Y/N." She shook her head, laughing bitterly. "I love you more than you will ever know. I should have said it a long time ago, but I didn’t know how. So I put it in a gift instead, hoping you’d understand without me having to say it."

Your chest ached, but this time, it wasn’t just pain. It was overwhelming, all-consuming relief.

"I love you too."

Agatha’s breath caught.

"Say it again," she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You sat up, reaching for her, cupping her face between your hands.

"I love you, Agatha. I never stopped. I never could."

The tension in her body melted as she exhaled shakily, leaning into your touch.

Then she kissed you again.

This time, it wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed or frantic.

It was slow. Intentional. Reverent.

Agatha laid you back down with deliberate care, her hands trailing over your body like she was memorising you all over again. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered "mine" against your skin was a promise.

The rest of your clothes were shed in a haze of need, the soft rustle of fabric hitting the floor drowned out by breathless moans and desperate hands mapping out familiar territory. Agatha took her time with you first, pinning you beneath her as she trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down your body, her tongue flicking over sensitive skin, her fingers following in its wake. When she finally dipped lower, parting your thighs with a knowing smirk. She took you apart with practiced ease—driving you to the brink again and again until you were a trembling, pleading mess beneath her.

But you wouldn’t let her have all the control tonight. With a sudden shift, you flipped her onto her back, straddling her hips, drinking in the sight of her flushed and breathless. You kissed like you wanted to drown in her, dragging your tongue down the column of her throat, over the swell of her breasts, sucking marks into her skin, and staking your claim the way she always had with you. 

And when you finally settled between her legs, when you pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh and felt her shudder beneath you, you didn’t tease; you devoured. The taste of her, the sound of her moans, the way her fingers twisted into your hair as she cried out your name—it was everything, and you never wanted to stop.

Agatha’s hands tightened in your hair, holding you in place as she rolled her hips, grinding up against your mouth, chasing her release with unrestrained need. She was completely lost in the sensation, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps, her thighs trembling around your head. 

"Just like that—fuck—don’t stop, baby," she groaned, throwing her head back as her body tensed. And then she shattered, her orgasm hitting her in waves, her grip tightening as she rode it out against your tongue, moaning your name like a prayer.

Agatha was wrecked by the time you pulled away, her chest heaving, her lips parted as she reached for you, pulling you back into a bruising kiss. "You’re insatiable," she panted, her nails raking down your back. 

"And you love it," you teased, grinning against her lips. 

She flipped you once more, settling herself over you with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I do. But  now it’s my turn again.” She trailed her lips down your neck, across your collarbone, then lower, nipping and sucking at your chest, your stomach, your thighs—leaving her marks all over you. 

Agatha hovered over your dripping cunt, her hands trailing possessively over your thighs, making you tremble, your body taut with anticipation. She took her time, lips and tongue teasing along the sensitive skin, her breath warm as she moaned something low and indulgent against you. The first slow drag of her tongue had you gasping, fingers fisting in her hair, and she hummed in approval, pressing deeper, savouring every reaction.

Her tongue worked you over with aching precision, lapping and circling before closing around your sensitive clit, sucking with just the right amount of pressure. The pleasure was almost too much, the heat pooling in your stomach threatening to spill over as she pressed her fingers inside, curling them perfectly to have you crying out. Every movement was deliberate—slow and deep, then quick and teasing, keeping you on the edge but never quite letting you fall. 

Meanwhile, you could hear the subtle, desperate rhythm of her own hips grinding down against the mattress, a quiet moan slipping from her lips as she lost herself in you, the friction bringing her closer and closer.

"You're shaking, baby," she murmured, voice thick with satisfaction as she glanced up, her chin glistening, her expression utterly wrecked. "You gonna fall apart for me?" 

She didn’t wait for an answer, just sealed her mouth around you again, her fingers pressing deeper, relentlessly coaxing you toward that inevitable bliss. And then she gasped against you, her body tensing as she shuddered, her own release crashing over her from the way she had been grinding down against the bed. 

The realisation that Agatha was cumming while fucking you sent you spiralling, your orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that left you gasping, back arching as a broken moan spilt from your lips. She groaned at the feeling of you coming undone, drinking in every last wave of pleasure before finally pulling away, her hands smoothing over your shaking thighs, her own body still trembling as she pressed one last lingering kiss against your oversensitive core, a satisfied smirk curving her lips.

Agatha collapsed against you, her breath warm against your skin as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, both too lost in the haze of pleasure and the weight of everything that had led to this—every moment spent apart, every unspoken feeling, every stubborn refusal to admit what had always been so painfully obvious.

You carded your fingers through her damp hair, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, letting the steady rhythm of your heartbeats fill the silence. Agatha exhaled slowly, her hands smoothing over your sides, grounding herself in the feel of you, as if she still wasn’t convinced this was real. 

Without a word, Agatha stood, her movements graceful and purposeful as she left the room for a brief moment. You could hear the sound of water running in the distance, the soft splash of it filling the silence before she returned. She didn’t need to say anything; the warmth in her eyes, the gentle press of her lips against your temple, told you everything.

She guided you to the enormous, luxurious bath—spanning the width of the penthouse’s bathroom—an almost surreal oasis of warmth and comfort. The water was a perfect temperature, fragrant with oils and salts, designed to soothe the soul. She lowered herself into the tub first, pulling you into her arms as if you were weightless, holding you close.

The space around you was immense, but it felt like it was just the two of you in this intimate world. Her fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, soothing the tension in your muscles as she softly kissed your shoulder, your neck—anywhere her lips could find. Each tender touch seemed to speak of something deeper, an unspoken vow of care that settled around you like the warm water.

You let out a contented sigh, resting your head against her chest as she kept you in her embrace, the steady rhythm of her breathing grounding you. Your hand lazily traced over her skin, lost in the softness of her touch, the comfort of her presence.

“You’re not leaving this time,” you murmured, the words more of a gentle plea than a statement. Agatha’s voice was soft but unwavering as she kissed your forehead, her arms tightening around you, pulling you even closer.

“Never again,” she whispered back, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m exactly where I belong.”

And in that moment, with the water lapping gently against the sides of the tub and the soft warmth of her embrace surrounding you, you knew—this time, she meant it.

-----

this fic had been teetering on the edge of my imagination for a while but I got a sudden burst of inspiration after daydreaming about it all day—lemme know what y'all thought :D

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @jujuu23 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6ange19

[harryslittlefreakk]

off limits

summary: planning your brother’s birthday turns into crossing a line with his best friend. everyone say thank you @bethiegurl19 for the request!!!

wordcount: 4.5k

warnings: angst, smut (foreplay, protected sex)

a/n: back with a bang baby!!!!!

masterlist 😋🌷🫧🍒 taglist

“You’re not bringing him.”

“You can’t dictate that.”

“Yes I can.”

“No, Harry, you can’t. It’s my house, my brother, and my-.” Your voice trailed off, not knowing what you could actually call Matt. Harry knew as well as you did that he wasn’t your boyfriend, he was the man who bothered with you when his other options were busy.

“Jake doesn’t even like him,” Harry muttered, his jaw flexing as he spoke.

“Neither of you will ever like who I date while you still see me as a kid,” you shot back, standing up too fast, feeling the wine rush to your head as you turned your back on Harry. It was the fourth night you’ve gotten together to try and plan your brother‘s birthday, the fourth night Harry had fought you about Matt.

“It’s not about that. He’s an arse and everyone sees it except you.”

You rested your elbows on the counter, rubbing at your temples. “It’s not your place to see it. But fine. I won’t invite him,” you sighed, hating that you were giving in to Harry.

“Good,” Harry all but growled, downing the rest of his wine in one sip.

“And I don’t still see you as a kid,” he added, walking over to you, his hand brushing your side as he reached for a new bottle of wine. His touch was light, barely even there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, heat blossoming against your skin. You could feel his presence next to you, close enough that the scent of his cologne mixed with the dry oaky smell of the wine on his breath. He hesitated for the briefest second, his hand lingering near your side. But even if he had noticed the way you’d gone totally rigid, he didn’t say anything.

You moved away slightly, trying to focus on the wine splashing into the glasses in front of you, the walls of the glass stained pink from Harry’s sloppy pouring, ignoring the way your skin buzzed in the aftermath of his touch. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, your mood worse.

“You’re not even pouring it right,” you muttered, snapping at Harry before you could stop yourself.

His head turned, and you could feel his eyes on you as he straightened, the bottle still in his hand.

“Pouring it right?”, he laughed, that fucking smirk tugging at his lips. It boiled your blood.

You turned to lean your hip against the counter, grabbing the bottle from his grip.

Harry let out another low, frustrated laugh, raking a hand through his long curls as he turned towards you fully.

“Relax,” he said finally, pulling the bottle back slamming it back down on the counter. “You’ve been on my case all week. The decorations, the music – you fought me on every single thing. What, because I don’t like your little boyfriend?”

You froze as Harry stepped closer, his tense frame towering over you. His green eyes were locked on yours, sharp and darkened in his frustration.

“Tell me then. What the fuck are you even doing with a guy like Matt?” His voice was low and biting, but not teasing in the way you’d grown to expect.

Your jaw clenched, your throat dry as your hands reached behind you to grip onto the edge of the counter. “You don’t know him,” was all you managed to say.

“Yes I do, y/n. I went to school with him. Jake went to school with him. And I’ve seen enough of him to know he hasn’t changed at all,” Harry shot back, his voice rising.

“It’s none of your business! I’m old enough to make my own mistakes. I don’t need either of you to protect me anymore,” you shouted, glaring at Harry.

“You never needed our protection. But look at you! You’re trying to pick a fight because I don’t think your hook up should be at Jake’s party. Is he even worth it?”

Your stomach twisted at Harry’s words, heat flooding your cheeks. You knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if despite all of Matt’s other flaws, of which there were many, he was a good enough fuck for you to keep him around.

“It’s worth it just to piss you off,” you mumbled.

Harry ran a hand over his face, looking straight through you as he laughed. “You’ve wasted a year fucking him because it pisses me off?”

“I’m not discussing that with you.”

“Why not? Because you don’t want to admit that’s the entire reason you carried on seeing him? Or because you don’t want to admit that he isn’t even a good fuck?”

You opened your mouth to spit something back at Harry, but nothing came out. Harry clearly knew you better than you thought, and no matter how much you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t.

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed. That same irritating look of amusement was still on Harry’s face as he looked down at you.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his voice low, his eyes flickering to your lips where they lingered for just a second before snapping back to your eyes.

You hated him in that moment. For being right, for knowing you so well, for backing you into a corner you couldn’t see a way out of. But more than anything you hated how your body was reacting to him, the way his closeness made your heart race.

You wanted to punch him, to shove him out of your house and never see him again. But when your hand reached out towards Harry, it betrayed you, gripping at his t-shirt and pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.

It was all the confirmation he needed. His lips were on yours, rough and urgent, like he’d been holding himself back for weeks and finally couldn’t anymore. For a split second, you froze, your mind struggling to catch up with what was happening. But then his hands were on your waist, pulling you even closer.

You kissed him back without thinking, your hands clutching at the cotton of his t-shirt as if you needed to hold on to something to keep from falling. His body pressed against yours, his warmth searing into you, that big wall of muscle pushing against your front.

Harry groaned against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he backed you up against the counter. The edge of it pressed into your lower back, but you didn’t care. All you could care about was him - the way his lips moved against yours, the way his fingers dug into your skin, the way he tasted like wine and heat and something unmistakably Harry.

He stepped back, running a hand through his curls, his breathing uneven as his eyes darted between your face and the floor. His lips were red and swollen, and you couldn’t look at him without feeling like the world had tilted sideways. He stared at you, his eyes dark and wild, his hands still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes were still dark and locked onto yours. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough. “Didn’t seem like you minded.”

“I should go,” he said quietly after a minute, his voice hoarse and full of something you couldn’t quite place.

Your chest tightened, but you nodded, your arms wrapping around yourself in a futile attempt to fill the sudden ache his words created. “Yeah,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. “You should.”

For a moment, he hesitated, like he was waiting for you to stop him. But you didn’t. You just stood there, rooted in place as he turned toward the door. He didn’t look back as he left, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him felt deafening.

You let out a breath, leaning back against the counter as you tried to gather your thoughts. Your lips still tingled from his kiss, your skin still warm where his hands had held you, and you hated how empty the room felt without him. You hated that you even wanted him to stay and kiss you again.

The thought hit you like a wave, but you shook it off, forcing yourself to push away the longing that crept into your chest. He was gone, and it was already messy. It didn’t need to go deeper.

But when the knock at the door came, your heart leapt into your throat, and before you could even process what you were doing, you were pulling it open.

Harry stood there, his hand braced on the doorframe, his eyes dark as they met yours. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you like he was fighting an internal battle he’d already lost.

“I couldn’t go,” he said finally, his voice rough.

You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, because he was stepping inside, kicking the door shut behind him as his hands found your waist. He pulled you to him, wrapping your legs around his hips as he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding yours with a desperate, hungry urgency that left you breathless.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered against your lips, his voice thick with frustration as his hands gripped your thighs. “You know that?”

“You’re the one who came back,” you shot back, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you again, deeper this time.

“Yeah, because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he growled, his lips trailing down your neck, sending a shiver racing through you. “Couldn’t stop thinking about how I’m right. Matt isn’t enough for you, is he?”

Your breath hitched, your nails scraping lightly against his scalp. “Don’t—”

You hated how easily he got under your skin, how his words hit far too close to the truth. “You’re so full of yourself,” you snapped, though your voice lacked conviction, trembling under the weight of his presence.

Harry smirked, his hands tightening on your hips as he carried you toward your bedroom, not breaking eye contact. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice dripping with confidence. “But I’m not wrong, am I?”

You didn’t answer, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But the heat in your cheeks and the way you clung to him told him everything he needed to know.

By the time he reached your bedroom, your resolve was gone, replaced by a desperate ache in your core that only he could seem to satisfy. He laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours as his lips brushed against your ear.

“Let me show you how it’s supposed to feel,” he murmured, his voice rough but steady.

And as his lips found yours again, his green eyes locked onto yours for just a split second, looking at you in a way that showed you both permission and forgiveness.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Harry whispered, his words muffled against your mouth, the scent of the wine warm against your skin.

“I can handle it,” you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

“Say you’ll tell me,” he repeated, firm and commanding.

“I’ll tell you,” you echoed, heat spreading through your body as he planted his hands either side of your head, caging you in.

The silver rings on his fingers caught the lone beam of moonlight streaming through the curtains, the chilled metal brushing against your skin as he moved closer still. Your gaze follow the lines of his tattoos, the dark ink curling up his forearm, disappearing under the pushed-up sleeve of his t-shirt.

Harry‘s mouth moved from yours to the curve of your neck, his lips brushing over your wild pulse with a deliberate slowness. His teeth grazed your skin, a contrast to the soft flex of his tongue as he kissed his way down, and you couldn’t stop the quiet whimper that slipped past your lips.

“Think you finally ran out of shit to say,“ he teased, his hand shifting to wrap your leg around his hip, his touch firm and possessive as he pressed himself against you.

The hardness of him against your inner thigh made your head spin, the friction of his jeans against the thin cotton of your leggings burning into you. You rolled your lower lip into your mouth, trying to suppress the moan threatening to escape as his hips rolled against yours, his cock pushing against you.

“These jeans,“ you whispered, your voice breathy as your hand slid between your bodies, tugging at their skin-tight waistband. “I hate them.”

“D’you really?” Harry asked, his voice laced with that same teasing amusement as he moved back off the bed. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure they’re driving you crazy right now.“

You glared up at him, your lips pulled into a reluctant smirk, waiting on your brain to form some sort of comeback. Instead, you pushed up onto your knees, grabbing at Harry‘s t-shirt until his lips crashed back onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and heat and frustration.

Harry groaned into your mouth, the sound low and guttural as it echoed through you, his hands roaming over your body, sliding beneath your t-shirt. His touch left trails of fire and goosebumps in its wake, your back arching into him, your fingers curling into his hair.

“D’you want me to stop?“ he murmured against your lips.

“No,“ you breathed, your lips brushing against his before his mouth captured yours again. More insistent now, his fingers splayed across the curve of your waist. Your world was spinning with every touch, your every thought consumed by him – his taste, his scent, the way his lean frame press against yours like even an inch of empty space between you would be too much.

He let you part for just a second, just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes somehow darkening even further as they roamed the skin that had, until then, been off limits to him. His breath hitched, his fingers skimming along the soft lace of your bra. He took his time, like he wanted to memorise every inch of you.

“Even better than I imagined,” he murmured, his voice gravelly yet almost silent, as if he wasn’t saying that to you, but to himself.

Your eyebrows quirked in questioning as his eyes snapped back to yours, something dangerous in the depths of darkened greens. “More than I should’ve,” he confessed, leaning down to press his lips to the sharp angle of your collarbone. “Much more.“

His confession sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your fingers finding their way back to his hair, tugging him closer as his mouth continued down your body.

When his fingers slipped into the waistband of your leggings, he paused, pushing you softly back down onto the bed, his eyes boring into you. “I need to hear you say you want this,“ he said, pushing his free hand through his curls.

“I want this,” you breathed without hesitation. “I want you.”

That was the final confirmation he needed, his hands never leaving your skin as he stripped away the barriers between you, first the remainder of your clothes, and then his.

When he finally pulled his shirt off, you let your eyes wander over his body, drinking in the sharp lines of his torso, the way his tattoos rose and fell with his breathing. You kept your gaze on his body as he kicked off those damn jeans and his underwear, Letting yourself appreciate the soft smack of his cock against his flesh as he freed it, something your teenage self was sure to thank you for.

You felt your eyes wide and slightly as you registered his size, your breath catching in your throat.

But Harry only smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, his hand sliding under you to cut the back of your neck as his body settled over yours. His weight, his heat, the feel of his skin against yours – it was overwhelming.

“I told you he wasn’t enough for you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him once again that he was arrogant, but his hand slid between your thighs, and the words died on your tongue.

You let out a strangled gasp of his name, your head falling back into the pillows as the part of his thumb worked at your clit.

“Say it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Say I’m better for you than he is.”

You wanted to fight him, to deny him and take him down a notch, but all you could do was whimper against his skin, your body arching into his touch as heat pooled in your core.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his lips trailing across all the skin they could reach, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

The roughness of his hands contrasted with the gentle touch of his movements, intoxicating and addictive as his hips ground against yours.

“You’re already so worked up for me,” he muttered, his voice almost a growl as he pushed two fingers into you. “All this time, y’just needed to be fucked right.”

“Shut up,” you managed to bite back, losing the edge to your voice as his fingers flexed against your sweet spot.

Harry chuckled, a deep, throaty laugh that sent shivers down your spine. “That’s why you get so riled up. Because every time I fight you about Matt, you’re thinking about this.”

You tried to glare at him, but the way his fingers fucked into you made it impossible to do anything but push your hips against his touch, your cheek turning to him as his lips grazed your ear.

“What do you think about, hmm? Me touching you like this?” he continued, taking your silence as confirmation.

“Harry,” you groaned, gathering a fistful of his hair as his hand stilled, his thumb pressed to your nerves.

“C’mon, kitten. Tell me,” he pressed, a commanding edge to his words that only deepened the ache in your core.

“What you’d feel like, how you’d sound. How you’d fuck m-“

You didn’t get to finish, Harry’s lips were on yours again, swallowing the rest of your words in a kiss so deep and consuming that it felt like he was pulling the life from your body. He pushed a third finger into you, his rings stone-cold against your folds, the silence punctured by breathy gasps and your wetness pushing in and out of you with his every movement.

Your breathing quickened, each stroke of Harry’s fingers building the pressure in your core. He worked at you expertly, his thumb circling your clit in a rhythm that had your skin overheating, your toes starting to curl, your hips bucking into his palm.

His name spilled from your lips like a mantra as your body tensed. Harry kept his eyes locked on you, his brows furrowed as he watched you unravel beneath him.

“Let go, love,” he murmured, his voice thick and coaxing, his fingers curling just right to hit the sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. The tension that had built inside you snapped, a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing over you with such power that you couldn’t hold back from crying out. Your muscles tightened around his fingers as hot, pulsing waves of pleasure worked their way over your skin, leaving sharp tingles in their wake.

Harry didn’t let up, drawing out your high with slow, deliberate movements, his thumb back to pressing firmly at your clit as his fingers worked you through it.

When you finally went limp beneath him, your chest heaving, he slowly withdrew his hand, the sudden lack of touch drawing out a needy whine from your throat.

You watched through blurry eyes as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste you. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips, an appreciative groan echoing from his throat.

You let out a shaky breath, your head spinning, your world now entirely tilted on its axis. But Harry didn’t give you much time to recover. He leaned back down, his lips brushing yours, letting you taste your sweetness on his tongue as his hand cupped your cheek.

“Not done with you yet,” he promised, his voice muffled against your lips.

“Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your mouth quirking into a smile, heart racing as he fished through his pockets for a condom.

“I’ve been patient with you,” he said, tearing the foil wrapper with his teeth as he knelt between your legs. “Not anymore.”

You swallowed hard as he rolled the condom over his cock, his length hard and heavy in his hand.

“I can handle you,” you retorted, heat flooding through you.

Harry let out a low chuckle, his nose brushing against yours as he lined himself up, his tip just barely pressing against your entrance. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

He pushed into you slowly, his hips rolling forward inch by inch. The stretch had you gasping, your hands flying to his shoulders. Harry groaned, the sound raw and guttural, his forehead falling to yours as he stilled, letting you adjust to him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice strained. “Feel so good, princess.”

Your fingernails dug into his skin as your body arched into his, trying to adjust to the overwhelming fullness of him. “Move,” you whimpered, desperate for him to do something to help ease the ache building inside you.

Harry obeyed, his hips rolling back before snapping forward again, and again, the force of his thrusts sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He moved deliberately, his pace slow and calculated, his free hand grabbing needily at the flesh of your hip.

“Look at you,” he groaned, full of awe as he watched the way your body responded to him. “Taking me so well. You were made for this.”

Your head rolled back on the pillow, your nails raking down Harry’s back as he drove into you, his pace unrelenting. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and Harry’s gravelly groans as he buried himself in you over and over again.

Every thrust brought you closer to the brink, the coil in your stomach tightening with every snap of his hips. Harry seemed to sense it, his hand sliding underneath his body, finding your clit and circling the nerves with practiced precision.

“You gonna come for me?” he asked, his teeth grazing the skin at your jaw. “Gonna let me feel you fall apart?”

Your entire body trembled as Harry’s words broke through the fog in your mind, his deep, commanding tone sending shockwaves through you. His fingers on your clit matched the rhythm of his thrusts, each movement calculated to push you further into a haze of pleasure.

“Please,” you whimpered, your hands clutching desperately at his curls.

“Wanna feel how good I make you feel,” he pressed, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your back arched off the bed as his hips slammed into yours, the angle perfect, his cock burying itself deep inside you. You howled out his name, your walls clenching and pulsing around him.

Harry groaned deeply, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he fought to maintain control.

“That’s it,” he growled. “That’s my good girl.”

He didn’t stop, his hips continuing to drive into you, his fingers on your clit prolonging your orgasm until your body shuddered from the overstimulation. You writhed and whimpered, trying to ground yourself, but Harry wasn’t done with you yet.

“You’ve got another one in you,” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough and full of intent.

“I can’t,” you whined, completely sure that you couldn’t handle more, that another orgasm might break you, but the fire in his gaze told you it wasn’t a question.

He shifted, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, your body already sensitive, but the way his cock dragged against your sweet spot had you spiraling all over again.

His fingers left your clit only to grab your other thigh, pulling you flush against him, his pace growing rougher, more desperate. “You feel that?” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “Feel how good you’re taking me? Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You could barely think, your mind foggy with pleasure as the pressure built inside you again, faster and harder this time. Harry’s lips found yours, swallowing your moans, his movements growing erratic as he chased his own release.

“Come with me,” he urged, his forehead pressing against yours, his voice barely more than a breath. “Come with me, kitten. Let me feel you.”

And then you were falling again, your body clenching around him as another orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and all-consuming. Harry followed just a second later, his groan low and guttural as he buried himself deep, his body trembling as he spilled into you.

The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, your bodies tangled together as you both came down from the high. Harry’s weight pressed against you, grounding you, his lips ghosting over your temple in a surprisingly tender gesture.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer now, full of concern as he brushed your damp hair away from your face.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your lips curling into a small, satisfied smile. “More than okay.”

Harry chuckled, the sound warm and comforting as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your cheek. “Still think I’m full of myself?”

You shook your head, “no. Just thinking about me being full of you,” you grinned, biting down on your lip.

He cupped the back of your head, rolling onto his back and bringing you with him, holding you flush to his body. “I think your brother might kill me,” he whispered, a nervous edge to his usually steady voice.

[cinnaleaf]

「 In Your DMs | One Shot 」

summary: you read jude’s DM on insta but never responded, thinking that was the end of it—until he spots you at the club & decides he’s not letting it slide

warnings: club setting, alcohol use, sexual tension, light themes of public attention/fame, language wc: ~4.9k 💌: i forgot who requested this but it’s here song inspo: BADGIRLERA x iBXRHM ft JAHKOY

The music in the club hit you first, followed by the strobe lights slicing through the dark, smell of spilled liquor, and bodies pressed together, pulsing against the beat. Your friend, Bri, pulled you through the mixed haze of vape clouds and smoke from a fog machine with a manic grin, way too eager for the night ahead.

“Our table is this way. Hurry up!”

You followed her lead, clacking your heels against the floor while your other friend, Tasha, trailed behind complaining about how she wasn’t standing all night in heels. The bouncers barely glanced at your crew when all of you strutted into the VIP section.

“Ooo okay, this is nice” Tasha slid into the booth, looking around to scope out the scene. Little did you know, Jude was also there, eyeing you from the minute you stepped in.

Bottles of tequila and vodka were already lined up on the table, untouched. You barely had time to sit down before a guy dripping in loud designer saw your table from across the section and started his approach. You clocked him too: probably mid 30s, big shiny watch, sleazy, and probably more interested in showing off his Amex Black Card than any real conversation.

“Your new sponsor is on his way” you whispered to Bri, smirking when she immediately started flipping her hair out of muscle memory. “Let’s hope he’s worth the pitch.”

“Ladies” he eyed the bottles on your table, smelling too strongly of oud cologne. “Looks like you could use a little more” You leaned back, tuning out while scrolling through your phone as he started the same routine you heard from so many other men: ‘I know the owner’, ‘Let me take care of that for you,’ yada yada. You let Bri and Tasha handle him – it wasn’t your vibe, and frankly, it wasn’t your problem. This wasn’t your first rodeo and guys like him always thought a heavy tab would buy them permanent attention. Not that you minded it; if burning through his card meant you didn’t have to touch your own, then so be it.

You tapped on the Instagram icon, scrolling through your profile, which was a mixture of travel pics, reels, highlights, and photo dumps until your thumb paused over a post from three weeks ago at a yacht party in Miami. Your skin glistened under the sun in a figure hugging bikini while you posed on the deck. Jude’s like stood out like a sore thumb. He liked plenty of your pictures before, but this one seemed to spur him on enough to like it within the first 5 minutes of you posting – with a DM following shortly after:

Been waiting for you to post again so I could slide in 👀 You’re beautiful. Let me know if you’re ever free?

Boo. Lame. Corny. Predictable. You rolled your eyes so hard when you saw the message, not even bothering to respond. You knew how this story went. A follow here with a few likes, a DM there, and before you knew it, you’d be getting ‘owwkayed’ on a gossip page that had way too much time on their hands. The thought of it made you want to gag, so you left the message unread but not unseen.

Tasha nudged your arm, pulling you out of your Insta scroll. “Oh my god, is that Jude Bellingham?” Her voice pitched higher in a tone that meant she was about to embarrass you.

“Huh?” you muttered, not bothering to look up just yet.

“That’s Jude Bellingham” she hissed, jabbing her acrylic nails into your ribs. “Near the DJ booth!” You were surprised you didn’t notice him before. He was tall and hard to miss, one hand holding a drink while the other tapped to the beat against his thigh. “He just winked at someone,” Bri added, craning her neck. “Or at least, I think that was that a wink??”

Tasha shook her head in disbelief. “How is it possible for him to look even better in person?” You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes while staring at the untouched alcohol and assorted mixers in front of you. Jude wasn’t a stranger to you outside of your likes. You clocked his comments on your mutuals’ posts, and even been to a party or two where you were pretty sure he was lurking around. Then there was the DM you left in your inbox like the corny attempt it was.

“You’re embarrassing yourselves” you muttered, ignoring the way Bri kept looking at him from across the room.

“Embarrassed?? Girl, that’s a man worth embarrassing myself over.” Bri leaned forward, slowly sipping her drink while gawking at Jude, who was now eyeing your table. “I wouldn’t even be mad if I ended up on a gossip site for that one. What are they going to do?? Cry about it???” You froze for a minute to give her the side eye. That’s the exact reason you were trying to avoid types like him, no matter how good he looked in person. It was too much attention, too many assumptions, and definitely too much drama. You sipped your drink instead, the alcohol burning your throat enough to distract you from Bri’s yapping. 

Across the way, Jude was leaned back against the DJ booth with his eyes locked on your table. You were perched on the edge of your seat, phone in hand, while your friends kept stealing glances at him, giggling behind their drinks. Jude smirked, taking another sip. You hadn’t looked up a single time or even flinched in his direction. It didn’t surprise him – you hadn’t looked twice at his DM either. Even though he was one of the biggest names in football, you paid him no mind – unlike the girls always trying to latch onto him.

“Jude, babe, do you want another drink?” A voice rang out from a girl hovering way too close. He didn’t even know her name, nor did he care to learn it. She latched onto him earlier, trying to touch his arm every chance she got so she could throw herself into his space. He stepped aside, nodding politely while trying to keep his focus on you. 

“No. I’m good, thanks.” he spoke in a tone that discouraged any follow ups, which led to the girl pouting and standing next to him dumbfounded before finally taking the hint and walking off. When Jude’s attention went back to the VIP section, he caught sight of the guy hovering over your table. Jude thought he looked like a try hard who didn’t know how to cover a tab properly. His jaw tightened when he watched you tilt your phone a little while the guy gestured at your friends. He flagged down a passing bottle girl, making her stop in her tracks when she realized who he was.

“Hi!” she said, smiling flirtatiously. “What can I get for you?”

He leaned down slightly to meet her height, nodding toward your table. “See that table over there?”

“The table with the guy doing the most?”

“Yeah that one,” Jude smirked. “Can you send over some bottles to them? Dom, 1942, and whatever else is good. Add their tab to mine.”

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what do you want the bottle service sign to say?”

Jude shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “One of the girls over there never responded to my DM so make it clear I’m still interested. She knows who she is.”

The bottle girl laughed, eyeing the table again. “Got it. I can do that!”

You weren’t paying much attention to the guy loitering at the table now that Bri and Tasha had him preoccupied. The drinks were finally kicking in, so you stood up to stretch, swaying to the bass of the music playing over the sound system, but then the bottle girls rolled up with sparklers crackling in the dim lighting – illuminating a path while carrying over a bucket filled with bottles.

“Oh shiiiit” Tasha shouted while standing up. Bri took out her phone to record the whole thing, doing an over the top “Wait..who sent this?!” act in the camera like she hadn’t seen this done a dozen times before on your nights out. You weren’t questioning it either. Someone paid, so who were you to interrupt the flow of endless drinks? You grabbed a sparkler from one of the bottle girls, waving it in the air while your other hand cradled a bottle of 1942.

“Real fine bitch, she ain’t gotta edit out the Getty!” Bri screamed the lyrics of the song currently playing, turning her phone around to record you dancing with the bottle in your hand. You tipped your head back, drinking straight from the bottle while the music bumped around you. Just as you were handing the bottle to Tasha, her jaw dropped and she grabbed your arm. “Wait, look!” she yelled, pointing over at the bottle girls holding up the sign. You turned with the sparkler still fizzing in your hand, squinting at the light up board they were waving in the air. At first it didn’t make sense, but then the words clicked clear as day:

HE’S HIM! RESPOND TO HIS DM!

You froze while your friends jumped around excitedly, trying to piece together what was going on.

“So who is it?” Bri smacked your shoulder. “That’s for you, Y/N. I know that’s for you!”

Tasha grabbed your wrist. “Wait. Is it him? Is it– oh my god it’s him, isn’t it??”

You couldn’t even process what was happening, let alone have time to come up with a lie. The bottle girl pointed toward the DJ booth and your stomach dropped. Jude’s legs were stretched out lazily in the VIP dance section with his head tilted enough to let you know he was watching the whole thing. He gave you a confident, cocky smirk and raised his glass toward you like he already won you over, but you weren’t about to play along that easily.

“Y/N!” Bri shrieked, grabbing your other arm. “What the fuck, why didn’t you tell us he’s in your DMs?!”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your body felt hot and the tequila wasn’t helping. Instead, you grabbed the bottle of 1942 and took another long swig to drown out whatever was about to unfold tonight. “He’s nobody special. He’s just some footballer. I’m not impressed.”

“Liar.” Bri crossed her arms, grinning. “You’re lying, and it’s all over your face.”

You ignored her, but they were both going into full meltdown mode, squealing and swatting each other while pointing at Jude, who hadn’t stopped watching you. Eventually he got up, taking his time as he walked toward the VIP tables. “Stop looking” you hissed, grabbing Tasha’s phone before she could take a video. Neither one of them were listening as Jude walked closer.

“Not to freak you out” Tasha whispered, “but he��s coming over.”

You kept your head down, pretending to scroll through your phone to try and play it cool.  Jude stopped near your table, just long enough to make sure you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, even if you were pretending to pay him no mind. 

“Y/N” Bri whispered urgently. “He’s looking at you.”

You refused to look up and instead sipped your drink while he hung around in your peripheral vision. He laughed in a mocking way and eventually sat at a table nearby, perfectly angled so he could keep you in his line of sight the entire night no matter where you were in the club. You tapped your nails against your glass, irritated he was slowly getting under your skin. You weren’t about to sit there being ogled like a trophy when you could be on the dancefloor, having a good time while ignoring him.

“Can we dance?” you stood up abruptly, pulling your dress down with one quick motion.

Tasha groaned instantly and threw her head back against the booth ready to complain. “Ugh..Y/N my feet are already killing me. Can’t we just sit here and do a cute little club bounce to the beat instead?”

“No. I came here to dance, so let’s go!” you urged, swaying to the beat to tempt her onto the dancefloor. Meanwhile, Bri was still stuck on the DM you failed to mention. “Y/N! He’s been after you and you just ignored him??” She shot up from her seat, scandalized, pointing her finger between Jude’s table and you. “I saw his likes but he slid in your DMs and you said NOTHING?”

You gave her an annoyed look, rolling your eyes. “Can we stop talking about Jude? Would you want to deal with being associated with him? I don’t want to be a part of that circus.”

Bri checked Jude out over her shoulder, watching him laugh and talk with friends at his table. “Girl, yes! I would happily look like a clown for that. He could take me to his circus and I’d be front and center juggling his balls if it meant I could–”

“Okay, we’re done!” you cut her off, waving your hands around. “Are we dancing or not?”

“I already said no,” Tasha whined, sliding further in the booth. “I’m too cute to move and my ankles hurt. Go dance for both of us.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed Bri’s arm to walk over to the VIP section of the dancefloor behind the DJ booth. Bri was already swaying to the beat before you made it to the dancefloor, then she glanced back and turned toward you. “Y/N.. you know he’s still watching you, right?”

“Bri, please shut the fuck up.”

“I’m just saying! He’s been looking since we sat down. If you don’t want him..I’ll–”

“No, you absolutely will not” you cut her off, not allowing her to finish the sentence. When you reached the edge of the VIP dance area, you felt the heavy bass moving through your bones while lights strobed enough to make it hard to see beyond a few feet. You thought it would drown out Jude’s stares, but Bri made it her mission to give you play by play updates. Just as you were getting into the music and melting your hips into the beat, Bri spoke up for another update. She really couldn’t help it. “He’s still watching,” she sang in your ear.

“I don’t care” you continued dancing, not bothering to turn around to see what she was talking about. You didn’t need to confirm that Jude was extremely attracted to you. It was blatantly obvious the moment he positioned himself in a spot that gave him a front row seat to whatever you were doing. You could feel his eyes tracking the moves you made, but the longer you danced, the easier it was to forget about him – until the crowd shifted and suddenly he was there right next to you. Jude didn’t touch you, nor did he speak. He just stood there, drinking his drink like he wasn’t wreaking havoc on your girl’s night out.

“Are you lost?” you finally spoke up, tilting your head toward him without stopping your movements.

Jude grinned, nodding his head to the beat as he started inching closer to you. “Nah. Just enjoying the view.”

You glanced at him from above, brushing your hips lightly against him. “There are plenty of views here. Pick another one.”

“Why would I do that when I have the perfect one in front of me?”

“Corny” you quipped, still doing your best to not give him much at all. Jude stepped closer and dropped his voice enough that you had to lean in to hear him over the music. “You didn’t reply to my DM. Why?” You turned your face to him fully, laughing about him being so bothered by an unanswered instagram message of all things in the world. “You’re still on that, huh?”

“Hard not to be when you ignore me on purpose.”

You smiled and took a step back, but he answered your step back with a step forward of his own. “You’re really persistent Jude. I’ll give you that.”

“When I see something I want, yeah.” His gaze dropped and raked over your body. “And I want you.” You hated how much you reacted to that. You felt dizzy from the warmth of the alcohol swirling around in your stomach, combining with your butterflies. But you held your ground.

“Hmm..well..good luck with that” you turned around, pressing back into the crowd but Jude moved around to block your path.

“You’re not going to make this easy are you?”

“Jude, I’m not a jersey chaser. I’m sure you’re used to ‘easy’, but easy isn’t really my thing” you bantered back, which made him laugh in an irritatingly attractive way.

“I never said you were a jersey chaser. I do like a challenge though.”

The two of you were drawing more attention now. Clubgoers were looking and nudging each other while chatting, probably trying to figure out why Jude Bellingham was chasing some random girl around the VIP section. You should’ve cared but the drinks were doing their job. All you could focus on was the way his eyes stayed on yours and how he moved closer every time you stepped back, locked in a game that neither of you wanted to end.

“I hope you know you’re not as smooth as you think you are” you tilted your head, crossing your arms.

Jude smirked while stepping into your space, not caring who was watching. “And you’re not as carefree as you’re pretending to be.” 

He really did look even better up close and in motion. The way his lips curved into a smile made you want to run away to collect your resolve immediately, but you persevered and turned your back to him instead, swaying your body in tune with the music. The shift gave him an unintentional view of your dress creeping up as you moved, so he took the opportunity to step closer, brushing his hand against your waist as he leaned into your ear. To anyone else catching glimpses under the strobe lights, it looked more like he was kissing your neck – Tasha clearly thought so. She was slack jawed back at the table, frozen in drunken shock. Meanwhile, Bri was too busy sweet talking the DJ into switching the music into an amapiano mix to notice what was happening in front of her.

“You smell good” Jude voiced low against your ear with his lips so close, the words tickled your skin. “What is that? Coconut?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know” you answered, still not missing a beat but you were a lot less steady on your feet the more he spoke in your ear.

“Yeah” he replied simply, weighing his words with enough insinuation to let you know he was going to be a problem for you all night. You turned to face him with your back against the railing and Jude’s hands fell from your waist and onto the rails to cage you in without touching you. All you could see was his sly, smug grin in front of you while bodies moved to the beat in the outskirts of your vision.

“Why are you wasting your time?” you asked him, dropping your gaze to his lips. They weren’t something you would’ve been focused on any other time, but the liquor was coursing through you by this point and clouding your decision making skills. Jude’s eyes dropped to drag over the neckline of your dress, giving him a full top view of your cleavage before he snapped his eyes back up to look you in the eye. He leaned in closer, crowding your space just enough to make you part your lips in a silent gasp.

“Wasting my time?” he repeated the question rhetorically. “I have your attention, so is it really any time wasted?”

You tilted your head up to meet his cocky tone with some cockiness of your own. “I’m only here because you’re standing in my way.”

“If I moved, you’ll just keep ignoring me, yeah?”

“Yeah” you drawled, mocking his insinuated answer from earlier. Jude’s gaze was almost too much but you refused to back down. “You’re not irresistible in the way you think you are. I’m not going to hook up with you just because you’re Jude Bellingham. I really don’t give a fuck.” 

He gave you a wolfish grin, moving in even closer. You could feel his breath against your cheek when he spoke again. “Then why are you still here talking to me? Ask me to move around.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms while looking past his tall stature to look at literally anything else other than him. “Maybe I’m just bored.”

“Yeah? Is that right?” Jude’s voice dipped into a teasing, amused tone. He tightened his hands on the railing, brushing his knuckles against your sides while tilting his head closer toward your neck so he could hear you better. “If I left you alone right now..what would you do? Go back to scrolling on your phone so you can pretend you don’t notice me?”

He was getting under your skin now, mostly because he was right, but he didn’t need to know that. “I’m just trying to have a good time with the girls. Don’t make it weird Jude.”

“I’m weird for wanting to talk to you in person? You never responded, remember?”

“I did you a favor” you retorted. “I saved you the embarrassment of me rejecting you. I know that can hurt an ego like yours.”

Jude laughed against your neck, making you shift your body posture in the small space. “I don’t think you would’ve rejected me.”

“No, I definitely would’ve. I have standards.” you countered. That was true for the most part, but Jude going back and forth with you for this long had you intrigued. He really wanted you and he was pulling out all the stops to make it happen, which was kind of hot.

Jude tilted his head back toward your ear. “Why are you dancing with me then?” That was a good question. Why were you still there, dancing to the beat with him, letting him stand close, talk this much, get so far? You didn’t know – so you stayed quiet and rolled your hips to the bassline that had just dropped, moving closer to him with every beat. He could tell you were starting to crack, so he wrapped his arms around you, just enough to pull you close, but loose enough to let you decide how much closer you wanted to be. “Nothing to say now, huh? That’s what I thought. What’s your move after the club?”

“Good question..” You pretended to look around for your friends to give yourself time to come up with an excuse about how you had plenty of after club plans, but when you looked down to see the way his big hands flexed against your hips, you answered honestly instead. “I don’t have any.”

Jude’s grin grew wide, making him flash his teeth under the strobe lights. He had you right where he wanted you and he knew it. “You could…” he started, leaving the rest hanging in the air just to see how far you’d let things go. You rolled your tongue against your teeth, taking in the way his smile climbed higher into his cheeks when his eyes locked on yours. The smile threw you for a loop and you caught yourself staring at his lips longer than you needed to once it turned into more of a smirk, which he noticed immediately. 

“...I could what?” you asked, feeling your resolve slowly start to slip.

“You could come with me” Jude tightened his hands across your hips and you stumbled a little, instinctively reaching your arm over his shoulder to catch yourself.

“And why would I do that?” you asked.

“...Why wouldn’t you?” Jude already knew your answer. You wouldn’t be still standing there if you weren’t interested in the slightest. He was so close to you that you could see his lips quirk upward into another smirk, growing even wider when he caught you stealing another glance at his lips. Instead of calling you out, he let his eyes drop to your lips in return.

“I don’t trust you” you finally answered, yelling over the music. It didn’t hit him nearly as hard as you wanted it to. You could feel Jude’s curls brush up against your temple when he leaned in to make sure he heard you correctly. “Trust me with what?”

You giggled drunkenly, trying to shake off the effect he had on you. “Trust you to not be like every other guy in my DMs.”

Jude pulled back enough to look you in the eye, shaking his head at your refusal to just give in. “I’m not like every guy in your DMs,” he answered confidently like he was so sure there wasn’t anybody better than him trying to entertain you. “You’d know that by now if you answered..” Jude trailed his hand down to caress your lower back. He was right. There wasn’t anyone keeping you as interested as you were right now. But who would you be if you gave in that easily?

You tilted your head to the side, letting the silence stretch into knowing glances. His eyes darted to your lips again and you leaned into it, contemplating letting him kiss you, but just as his lips hovered dangerously close to yours, you cocked your head back with a sly smirk on your lips. Jude had a surprised look on his face and loosened his grip, laughing to conceal the fact that you beat him at his own game. You pulled out your phone, entering your code and tapping at your screen until you opened the Instagram app. Jude’s jaw flexed in the dimly illuminated light while he watched. Once he realized what you were doing, a smirk of his own appeared on his face. You opened your DMs and scrolled until you reached the one he sent weeks ago, typed your reply and hit send. You gripped his bicep to make him lean down within ear shot, letting your lips brush against the edge of his jaw purposely while you spoke. “Check your messages” you teased before stepping back and removing yourself from the loose hold he had on you. He stood there frozen, but then turned his head to watch you saunter off back to your section, swaying your hips more than necessary to give him a show. When you met up with Bri and Tasha back in your section, they dragged you down to the table to badger you with questions.

“So what happened? What did you do?” Bri asked.

You smiled and reached for your drink. “Nothing serious,” you answered flatly, which made them want to question you even more. Tasha squinted at Jude from across the club then turned her head back to you. Just as you were about to take another sip of your drink, she grabbed it from you. “No sipping, more spilling please. Why is he smiling at his phone like that?”

You snatched your drink back, shrugging. “I just told him to check his DMs.” They had no idea you had Jude wrapped around your finger at the moment, so you tried to play it cool. Bri’s mouth dropped open and Tasha gasped dramatically, smacking the table for extra dramatics.

“Check his DMs?” Bri repeated loudly. “You responded?!”

“Maybe.” You swirled your drink and slowly sipped while meeting his eyes across the club. You could see Jude smirk when he put his phone in his pocket and slowly made his way back to his own table. He sat there, talking to his friends while laughing it up until he caught you looking at him from your seat. He could see you twirling the straw around your drink with your tongue, caught in the act. He angled his head, smirking at you and mouthed something to you while pointing his thumb toward the exit. You couldn’t make out what he was saying through the darkness, so he stood up and started dapping his boys up before slowly making his way over to your table. You tried to ignore him at first, pretending you were doing something on your phone even though there was no reason for you to still be playing hard to get, seeing as you just virtually agreed to spend the rest of your night with him.

“Sorry to interrupt...” Jude flashed a cheeky grin at Tasha and Bri that had them crumbling on the spot. “I’m taking Y/N off your hands for the night. I hope that’s alright?”

Tasha and Bri squealed in unison. “Please! Take her. She’s all yours.” They both shoved you out of your seat in a hurry. “Go. GO!” You cut your eyes at them but Jude gave you no time to argue and stretched his hand out.

“You ready?” he asked, eyeing your frame from head to toe. 

You nodded, slipping your hand into his without any other words. Jude led you through the club towards the exit, and you took one last glance over your shoulder to wave at Bri and Tasha who were losing their minds. You giggled, turning back just as Jude leaned into your ear when you reached the exit.

“Let’s see if I can live up to your standards.”

[woozinhos]

you just have to be the best writer out there omg i love you

can i request wonwoo who is obsessed with his partners breasts? like he loves grabbing and marking them?

thank you so much ⭐️⭐️

Notes: I’m in the zone guys writing small and big fics

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ��� ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*

Wonwoo is lying next to you, his body pressed against yours. He looks at you with a hungry gaze, his eyes trailing down to your chest. He reaches out and gently cups your breasts in his hands, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. He leans in closer, his hot breath fanning against your chest as he starts to kiss and suck on your tits. His lips are soft and gentle at first, but soon he begins to grow more passionate, leaving marks on your skin as he sucks and bites.

As you look down at Wonwoo, you can see his eyes darken with desire. He glances up at you, his gaze intense and filled with lust. He doesn't stop what he's doing, continuing to worship your chest with his mouth. He moves from one breast to the other, alternating between sucking and nibbling on your sensitive buds. He pulls back for a moment, his lips glistening with your wetness. He looks at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of you beneath him. "You taste so good," he says, his voice deep and raspy. "I could do this all day."

You reach down and run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, gently scratching his scalp. He lets out a soft sigh of pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans into your touch. He continues to suck on your tits, but he becomes more relaxed, enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He lets out a low hum of contentment, his body completely melting into your hand.

As you continue to stroke his hair, Wonwoo's movements become slower and more deliberate. He's taking his time, savoring the taste and feel of your skin against his tongue. He starts to use his tongue more, swirling it around your nipples in circles. He then looks up at you again, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desire. He murmurs against your skin. "You're driving me crazy."

Wonwoo finally stops sucking on your tits and pulls you closer to him, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist. He rests his head on your chest, nuzzling into you as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat. He lets out a satisfied sigh and holds you tighter, his body molding perfectly against yours. He's completely content, finding comfort in the warmth and safety of your embrace. "I'm never letting you go," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your chest. "You're mine." Wonwoo lifts his head up and looks at you again, a sly smile on his face.

"I almost forgot the most important thing," he says with a hint of mischief in his voice. He starts to suck harder on your boobs, making sure to leave dark and noticeable hickeys all over them. He moves his head from one side to the other, marking you with his mouth over and over again.

He seems to be enjoying himself immensely, his hands roaming all over your body possessively. He wants everyone to know that you belong to him and only him. Wonwoo is clearly obsessed with your body, and he can't get enough of marking you. He pulls back to admire his work, a smug look on his face as he sees the various hickeys and bite marks.

"Perfect," he says with a satisfied grin. "You look absolutely stunning with my marks on you."

[starkeyssweetheart]

test drive (one shot) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

summary: you and rafe ‘test drive’ your brother’s new bike

pairing: daredevil!reader x detective!drew

warnings: flirting, dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, overstimulation

maybe you should’ve listened to rafe; words you had never thought before. he made it extremely clear for you to stay home tonight. and to definitely not touch your brother’s newly stolen bike. but, as always, you couldn’t resist.

your eyes sparkle with pure bliss as you clutch the handles, your glossy lips stretched into a wide grin as you speed down the roads of california to rafe’s house.

you find him immediately, sitting on the porch with a lit cigarette between his lips. he glares at you, almost instinctual at this point, scrutinising your position on the bike. legs spread apart, even in a denim mini skirt, revealing the black lace of your panties. you blink at him innocently.

“like what you see, big guy?” you wag your eyebrows playfully, referring to the new bike. you could tell rafe was restraining himself by the way his jaw clenches and knuckles white with tension. he drops his cigarette, stamping it out with his boot before crossing the distance to you.

“the fuck you think you’re doing, trouble?” he asks, his accent prominent as his eyes burning holes into your skin. after disobeying him and your brother once again, he’s beyond pissed off.

you mock gasp at his grumpy tone, not even attempting to pull down your skirt after it rides up to your hips. “can’t i come and visit my good old pal?”

the corner of his lips tug up at that. “is that what we are?” he asks, eyebrow raised. he stands closer to you than usual, your knee pressed against the side of his hip.

“friends… lovers…. whatever you want, rafey,” you wag your eyebrows again, this time eliciting an eye roll from the older, who is used to your flirtatious antics by now. he curses under his breath, regretting throwing away his cigarette. you watch with bright eyes and a sweet smile as he pulls another one out, lighting it quickly.

before he can even take a puff, you pluck it from his lips, placing it between your own with a smirk and inhaling deeply. his eyes narrow at you, snatching it back easily. “watch it,” he grunts, inhaling himself and blowing out the air away from your face.

you watch him momentarily, simply happy to be in his presence. the danger of it all, you think as you toy with the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one too many. he grabs your hand quickly, casting you a warning glare.

the next thing you know, rafe tugs you off the bike, gently setting you on the floor before hopping on himself. your smile drops as your regard his position on the ducati. “uhh, what do you think you’re doing?”

taking a final puff of his second cigarette, he throws it to the floor. “get on, trouble. ‘m taking you home,” he glares down at you, but there’s no hostility in it. he gives you an expectant look, waiting for you to sit behind him. instead, you hoist yourself onto the front end of the bike, practically on his lap, faces inches apart.

“don’t push me right now,” his voice is dangerously low as his eyes flickering down to the skirt which much more resembled a belt at how short it was.

he examines your precarious position, dangerously close to the man. your legs on either side of his, you scoot closer so your chest pressed against his. he knows you like to play with him, and it takes every ounce of his self control not to give into you. after all, it would ruin his entire undercover mission. you were convinced he wouldn’t cross the line, even after practically flashing him at every opportunity.

your body heats at your proximity, the california sunset casting golden light over his features as he regards you. “have you ever ridden like this before?” you ask with a playful smile, hands grazing the growing bulge in his jeans as you settle them in your lap.

“backwards?” he clarifies, ignoring the innuendo and catching your wandering hands before you could tease him. you nod and he scoffs. “no, i’m not suicidal.” you laugh at his expression, his lips tugging down with clear disapproval.

“so… we’re test driving this thing?” you ask, smiling at the thought. both of you share a love of racing, and although he hated to admit, driving together. he nods, rolling his eyes as he gives in.

rafe reaches around your waist, ignoring your straying hands as he touches the throttle and brake. your chest, only accentuated by your revealing top, rises and falls in a shallow rhythm, causing a low grunt to sound from him.

“you’re fucking trouble,” he tells you, grabbing your chin and fighting every instinct in his body to not take you there and then. he reaches behind him with one arm, grabbing the spare helmet from the back of the bike and placing it over your head.

adjusting it uncomfortably, you glare at him through the screen, disliking the safety measure. “how are we supposed to make out now?” you huff, half joking as you hold onto his shirt.

“we’ll find a way, gorgeous,” he smirks sarcastically and you’re taken aback momentarily by the switch in his demeanour. was he finally flirting back?

rafe speeds off without warning, causing you to lurch into his body with a hard slam. you grin, enjoying not being coddled for once. it’s easy for the two of you to lose track of time, and it’s dark before you make it to your house, parking inside the garage outside of the silent house.

instead of hopping off of the bike (and him) you remain in his lap, adjusting your position in his lap. you don’t even bother to hide your obvious attempt to create some friction between you, clearly turned on since the moment you saw him.

he lets out a low grunt, his hands gripping your hips tightly to cease your movements. a whine erupts from your throat and he silences you with a look. “you’re fucking trouble,” he tells you for the millionth time, pulling off your helmet in one swift motion.

you barely have time to blink when he’s wrapping your hair in his fist, kissing you with an abrupt, forceful passion that gives you more of a thrill than anything had before. a breathless moan leaves you before you can refrain it from spilling out, leaving you blushing as he tugs your waist closer to him.

your bodies connect like they’ve been dying for this feeling forever. rafe hikes both of your legs around his waist so you’re fully on his lap, his tongue effortlessly sliding into your mouth.

you cross your ankles around his waist, not stopping to think about what this all means, completely lost in the pleasure. threading your fingers into his brown locks, you tug at him impatiently, desiring his touch.

his muscular arms constrict around your waist, pulling you up before laying you down across the bike on your back. he breaks away from you, very much unwillingly for you, as you gasp for breath.

rafe’s apprehension is clear in his eyes as he stares down at you with a conflicted expression. was he willing to jeopardise his work for you? the answer became more clear everyday.

you shake your head slightly, assuming that his conflict was to do with his fear of betraying your older brother, his best friend. “he can’t dictate my entire life, rafe,” you tell him softly, chest still heaving as you try to catch your breath.

he shakes his head, tangling his hand through your hair. “is this what you really want, huh?” he asks gruffly, his other hand drawing circles on your waist. “‘want me to fuck you?” he nudges your nose with his, demanding an answer.

“please, rafe,” you groan, all acts of defiance from before going out the window with pure need for his touch. the anticipation was all-consuming. infuriating.

“please what, sweetheart? if you want something then fucking ask nicely,” he says, voice gruff with lust as he massages your waist, practically dry humping you like a teenager. his hardened length bulges through his jeans, pressing into your heat with a sense of urgency. all of your prior confidence had disappeared at this point, and rafe can see it in your pleading eyes.

“not running your pretty little mouth now, huh?” he taunts, tugging the remainder of your skirt up to reveal your lacy black panties. without warning, he cups your heat, the corner of his lip tugging up as he feels how soaking wet you are. his fingers slip underneath the thin material, running his fingers between your glistening folds. “this wet for me, gorgeous?”

“fuck,” you moan, throwing your head back against the handlebars as he massages your folds ruthlessly. suddenly, he removes his fingers, the lack of contact making you groan, before putting them to his own lips and taking them in his mouth.

“sweeter than i fucking thought,” he licks his lips, leaning down to kiss you again. you barely even notice his hands undoing your top, pulling it off easily and revealing your black lacy bra underneath.

“fuck me,” rafe groans as he closes his eyes, clenching his hands into fists against the hard metal of the bike as he holds himself back from fucking you mindless right then and there.

rafe can no longer restrain himself, already addicted to the taste of your lips. his kisses were nothing you’d had before; the thrill of the rush was incomparable. the built up tension and desire from the last few months had finally erupted as you tear off each other’s clothes with little care for the consequences.

the loud moans he was drawing out of you was enough to make you blush, pulling away for a breather. rafe laughs, amused at your sudden shyness. he holds your chin in place, ensuring you keep eye contact with him even as you lay half naked below him on your brother’s bike. “don’t get shy on me, trouble. been waiting for this for a long time.”

his fingers work to unclasp the back of your bra, watching with decadent satisfaction as your breasts spill out in front of him. he nearly finishes at the sight, adjusting the bulge in his jeans as he stares at you. “so fucking pretty,” he praises you, pressing light kisses to each breast.

you inhale a sharp breath as his hands envelope both of your tits, massaging roughly. rafe already knew you weren’t into the slow and mundane, and he wasn’t about to leave you unsatisfied.

you thought you knew what pleasure was, but as soon as rafe plunged his fingers into your throbbing pussy, you were in another world. with your back arching off the bike, your hands flew to his arm, moaning at his touch as he pumped his finger in and out of you. “so fucking tight, trouble,” he grunts, slipping in another finger without warning as you’re left squirming on the cold metal of the bike.

rafe loved seeing you like this, his endless fantasies somehow coming into fruition. you felt so much better than he expected, wrapped tightly around his fingers, causing his cock to strain against the tightened fabric of his jeans. his thumb rubs hard circles on your clit, unforgiving as you cry out his name repeatedly.

“please, rafe,” you whine, a pleading look in your eyes as you beg for him. “please fuck me.” rafe groans at your words, shaking his head curtly. your begs ceased as your mouth fell open, unable to form coherent words as he relentlessly pumped his fingers into you.

“not yet, trouble,” he whispers lowly into your ear, sucking at your collarbone as your legs begin to shake with an impending orgasm. your chest heaves, unable to catch your breath as he continues, ignoring your cries.

your orgasm was so close you could taste it, eyes rolling back under the sheer force of pleasure. with his thumb rubbing your clit impossibly faster, and his fingers curling inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that made you scream his name, you come with a small cry.

“good girl, baby,” he praises you, your vision blurring as you shake in pleasure. your head rests between his shoulder and the handlebars of the bike as you attempt to regain your breath.

“can’t anymore,” you stutter out, feeling overstimulated as he refuses to stop. he was clearly determined to get another orgasm out of you, pushing you towards the edge one last time. it didn’t take long for the second, already pleasured to the point your vision was blurred and you could barely say his name.

“rafe!” you whimper, eyes screwing closed as he bites at your neck, feeling your orgasm play out. pulling his fingers out, you sigh at the loss of contact, slumping across the bike as he finally lets you go. rafe pecks your forehead, praising you as you regain composure after the aftershocks of your second orgasm.

it’s only after ten minutes when you finally have the strength to speak again, an exhausted but playful smile tugging at your lips. “can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me like this,” you stick your tongue out at him and he smirks, pulling you back up onto his lap and cradling you like a baby.

“yeah, well, don’t fucking tell your brother,” rafe scoffs, feeling a little guilty for hiding the truth from her about why he was so apprehensive to not take her from the beginning. pulling your shirt back over your head, he smiles at your disheveled appearance and the bright look in your eye.

it isn’t until you notice his clothes still in place that you realise he didn’t even get to orgasm himself. “you didn’t get to-” you start but he cuts you off with a hard kiss, tugging at your hair.

after dressing you back in your clothes, he sighs, taking in the sight. “you’re trouble,” he repeats for the umpteenth time, ruffling your locks. “you’re mine now,” he stresses, his intense glare burning into your eyes. your smile stretches.

“wouldn’t have it any other way, big guy.”

a/n: #needthat

[folkwhoreberry]

Hello hope you are having a warm day! I have a percy jackson x reader request if you don't mind!

Percy mistakenly hurting reader like in a game of capture the flag reader is on the opposite side and when reader is about to get Percy team flag Percy in a fit of adrenaline hurts reader?

If not your writing style you don't have to do it at all! Thank you for your time to!

Snakes And Stones Never Broke My Bones

percy jackson x reader

or... the one where playing capture the flag on opposite teams wasn’t quite the best idea

word count : 605

warning : mentions of a cut and blood, english is not my first language!!!

🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙🍓 🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙

🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊

sweat dripped down your forehead.

you were so, so close to winning capture the flag. sneaking in behind Percy with the long stick you found in the woods, ready to push him away from here he’s standing in front of his team’s blue flag, guarding it. you held the long piece of wood up, and slowly, as quietly as possible, crept behind him and managed to position the stick behind his back, ready to attack.

but, he could sense you. he could smell you, feel your presence. yet in a moment or an adrenaline rush, he didn’t recognize you right away, too caught up in the game. he turned around in a split second, willing out his pen-sword and pointing it at you before his face quickly switching from being alarmed by the predator to calming down once he saw that it was you.

what he didn’t notice though, was how close the blade of his sword was to your arm.

he cut you right on your upper arm. he reached up to touch it but you push him away.

��shit, shit... you alright, sunshine? I’m so sorry, baby..” he quickly apologized, dropping his gold sword to the ground as you dropped your wooden stick as well. tears welled up in your eyes, your hand coming up to cover the bruise on your bicep, a whimper leaving your lips as the pain of the scrape finally hit you.

“i-it hurt, perce…” you whined, feeling your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. “so sorry, angel. I'm so, so sorry…” Percy mumbled into your hair, leaning his head down to press a few comforting kisses to the top of your head. “is there anything I can do?” he asked, clearly wanting to help you with your pain.

“let me look, yeah?” he said, pulling away from you, taking your hand in his, and moving it away from your injured arm. fixating his eyes on the scratch, he saw exactly where his sword cut through your skin and left an open wound trickling with blood. “this might leave a scar, princess…” percy whispered, letting go of your arm and leaning in closer to your face to kiss away your tears. he reached up to his left shoulder, ripping the hem of his shirt’s sleeve. bringing it to your hand, he slid the fabric over your arm and up to the cut, wrapping it tightly over the wound to help stop the building and keep it as clean as possible. “oh, my angel…” he said with a sigh, wrapping his arms around you once again, resting his chin on top of your head and holding you close to himself. “want me to give you the flag for free as of saying sorry?” he asked, making you sniffle and sob-laugh at his words. “mmh, maybe…”

“go ahead, honey.” percy said while laughing, releasing you from his hold and pushing you slightly toward the flag. reaching out your hand, you take the blue flag in your healthy hand and take it out of the ground, holding it up above your hand just as your game teammates reached the secluded spot with the rival team chasing behind them, the red team chanting in delight as they saw that they won while the blue team audibly sighed in defeat.

“you know I could have done it without your help, right?” you whispered, just loud enough for percy to hear but quiet enough so that the other won’t hear you. he snickered, “sure you would, angel. keep telling that you yourself.”

“now, can I take you to the infirmary?”

————————————————————————————

a/n : was listening to hamilton while writing this lol took some inspiration, try to find the reference!!

[holylulusworld]

Jealousy (2)

Summary: You got a room.

Pairing: Alpha!Wolverine x Omega!Reader

Warnings: jealousy, banter, a/b/o, cocky Logan, idiots in love, smut, unprotected sex, mating, claiming, knotting, doggy style

Catch up here: Jealousy

You got a room in the closest motel you could find.

Your clothing lay scattered all over the floor, partially ripped, as Wolverine used his claws and strength to destroy them.

Logan was impatient to get you bare. He was like a man possessed, or rather an animal.

His wolfish personality and the alpha he stopped controlling took over control. All that was left in his mind was to claim, and fuck, and make you his omega.

Your bare skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat as you moved together. “Fuck,” Logan cursed with every deep thrust. “This cunt.”

Cursing his name, you tried not to give in to your omega and the need to submit to the alpha. You didn’t want to give in so easily.

“Omega,” he growled as you still refused to submit to him. Even with his cock buried deep inside your cunt and his hands on your body, you refused to call him alpha. “Say it.”

“No,” you growled back at the alpha. “You’re not my alpha, only a good lay.”

He had you on your hands and knees, taking you from behind like the wolf he turned into the moment he got you alone. His strong hands gripped your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly, his powerful thrusts driving deep into your slicked sex.

Logan’s muscular frame looms over you, dominating your coupling with his sheer strength. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips.

You threw your head back as you cried out in ecstasy. Your breasts swayed with the force of his powerful thrusts, nipples hard and aching to be touched.

Logan’s hips snapped forward, his cock disappearing into your quivering cunt over and over again. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the air, disrupted by your needy moans and Logan’s grunts.

“Who’s your alpha?” he grunted while rocking into you. “Answer me, Omega!”

“Fuck you!”

“I’m on it, ‘mega.” Logan laughed at your stubbornness and slapped your rear with both hands. “Now, tell me who’s your alpha, or I won’t let you cum.”

“I dare you,” you growled and looked over your shoulder at Logan. He smirked and laughed as your cunt quivered around his thick cock. “Oops, too late, asshole.”

“You’re a naughty omega.” Logan pushed against your shoulders, forcing you flat on the bed. He covered your body with his body and pinned you to the mattress while moving his hips at a pace taking your breath away. “Stubborn, and you like to stare at that asshole.”

You cried out, feeling his knot slowly expanding inside your cunt. Breathing heavily, you tried to lie still as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re mine, and that asshole cannot have you. He can never have you.”

Logan came with a shout of your name and a grunt. His face buried in your neck, he smirked because you whimpered his name. “No objection?” He nipped at your neck. “I think your neck will look pretty with my mark.”

“In your dreams…”

Three days later, you came back, wearing Logan’s mark. While you tried not to give away that you and Logan mated for the last three days, he was less subtle.

“You let him claim you?” Jean gasped, seeing the mark on your neck.

“I took your advice to move past Scott to heart,” you bit back, knowing about Jean’s past with Logan. She never chose the grumpy alpha but tried to get his attention all the time while being engaged to Scott. “Maybe you should do the same with Logan.” You smirked. “Because he’s mine now…”

[trikruismybitch]

Never meant...

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Implied Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill

Warnings: kinda cheating, communication? Sad just very sad lots of angst no happy endings

Summary: Natasha's been distant and you just want to know if she's okay

"Whats been going on with you?" Y/n questions softly "You've been acting distant and weird lately, is everything okay my love?" you say as you walk up to Nat touching her arm lovingly

"Yeah baby i'm fine" she gives you a smile but it strained and her tone is dismissive

You internally sigh not wanting to cause any problems but the growing distance between you guys lately has been bothering you

"I know you're not fine Nat" you look into her eyes "I can feel that you aren't 'fine' and honestly lately i've been feeling like we aren't 'fine'." You stop rubbing her arm with your thumb but you stay close still "I don't want this to be a fight but i can tell somethings genuinely wrong and i need you to talk to me about it. I'm here for you, okay baby? Whatever's going on we'll get through this together." You speak in a gentle and understanding tone. You love her so fucking much and it kills you that she's not communicating with you.

Natasha looks at you and you stare back. You start to get a nervous pit in your stomach at the way she's staring at you. Usually theres a softness to the look in her eyes but right now it feels like she's looking right past you and it's unsettling.

"Maria kissed me a month ago," Natasha says. Theres a pause before she admits, "and i liked it. I wanted her."

You take a step back as if you were physically pushed "What?" Your mind starts racing and your hearts starts beating rapidly "What are you trying to say?"

Natasha shakes her head "I pushed her away after a second, i swear! I've felt so guilty about it since it happened...and It took me awhile to admit to myself that I'm attracted to her."

Natasha's eyes pour deeply into your soul. Her unwavering gaze is met by yours, eyes slowly blinking, praying, hoping that this is a cruel dream. Your skin itches, your body feels hot.

"I-i don't know what to say..." You whisper out taking a few steps back leaning on the kitchen counter hands resting behind you "I don't know how to feel right now. I'm confused, do you have feelings for her?"

"No! I don't! I love you." Natasha waves her hands in front of herself "I just think...feel sexually attracted to her? She's funny and she makes me laugh, she's like a breath of fresh air, you know?"

You just stare at her not believing she had the balls to say that to your face, "I need to go." you mumble and start looking around for your keys. Fuck you really wish you were more organized and now its biting you in the ass.

"Y/n, baby" Natasha keeps calling out as you rummage through all the places you might've put your keys. You look at the key hook and zero in on Natasha's car keys. Natasha follows your gaze and rushes to grab the keys before you get there, "Y/n wait! What are you doing? Where are you trying to go?"

You snap "I don't know Natasha!" You yell throwing your hands up and looking around. Your eyes start to burn wanting to cry "I just know that I don't want to be around you right now. I need time to process what you've said and then we can talk okay? So please just hand me the damn keys!" you cry out frustratingly. You hold your hand out for the keys, waiting.

"I want to talk now." Natasha furrows her brows "I came to you wanting to talk this through-"

"You didn't come to me!" You point to your chest "I had to push it out of you Nat! I always do!" You wave your hands around wildly, "Whenever you're upset or somethings bothering you, you become distant and unresponsive to my attempts to engage with you. Then when i ask if you're okay- and big surprise-you lie! I had to push this out of you Natasha!" You shake your head angrily, "So do not say that 'you want to talk this through'" you use air quotes when you say that, "because you NEVER DO! I do! I'm patient and understanding with you...and all you do is lie to me in return!" You sigh out tiredly "So, please respect my wishes and let me leave." You outstretch your arm for the keys

"No, I'm sorry okay" Nat tries to take a step toward you but you shake your head as you drop your hand "I-i've been feeling so guilty about this, thats why i've been distant. I didn't want to admit...I wasn't fully upset about the kiss. And I was so angry at myself for liking it and even if i didn't kiss her back I felt like I betrayed you. I just want to fix this." She's on the verge of tears clutching the keys tightly in her hand. She doesn't want to lose you.

You shake your head, again, and rub your eyes with your hands, "I don't understand how you expect me to fix something, I didn't even know was broken in the first place Natasha" You swallow as you take a deep breathe "You're basically saying you want to fuck someone else because your tired of our relationship, how am I supposed to feel about that? Huh? All this shit is thrown at me, I know we weren't 100% but I thought we were happy, that you were happy with us."

"I love you so fucking much. I love our life together and I would never" she enunciates 'never', "throw it away to sleep with someone else" she speaks vehemently before softening her tone "I'm telling you because I know I need to be honest with you about this. You think I want to feel this way about someone else? You mean the world to me Y/n and I don't want anything to jeopardize that."

You close your eyes. Despite everything she said and how much it hurt you, a part of you understands where she's coming from, and even with everything your heart still burns for her.

You open your eyes and you try to smile but it comes out strained "I know. I love you too...but I can't promise you that what you said isn't going to affect our relationship. I appreciate the transparency but I need time Nat...please give me the keys." You ask politely

Natasha's lip quivers as she slowly gives you the keys "Where will you go?" She questions

"I don't know right now, I'll let you know later." You go to walk past her but she softly grabs your arm when you've become parallel with her.

She gives your cheek a soft kiss, "I love you." she presses her forehead against your right cheek, breathing you in before you leave. You feel her tears fall and your heart pangs sadly in your chest at the women you love, so you briefly lean against her "I love you too" you gently pry your hand from her grasp and then you leave.

Natasha watches you go. She watched as the door is slowly shut. She hears as the roar of her cars engine takes whats left of her heart. She never meant for this to happen. She never meant to hurt you. And she never meant for you to leave.

an: not proofread & this has been in the drafts for awhile. a little something to read while you wait for "Did i cross the line" part 3 👀

[kirain]

Your headcanon that Emmrich's right arm is always gloved because he has scars from when he tried to pull his parents out of a collapsed burning building is now OFFICIAL canon as far as I'm concerned. Can we please get a fic of Emmrich being self conscious about the scars? 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Oh wow, thank you! 🥺 Here you go, anon!

The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with an ominous orange glow that seemed to taunt Emmrich. Vae sat opposite of him, her hands resting in her lap as she waited. Though usually cheery and confident, Emmrich trembled ever so slightly, his head bowed as though the weight of the moment pressed heavily on his shoulders.

"All right," he whispered.

Vae reached out, her touch light as she took his gloved hand in hers. "I'll go slow," she said softly.

Despite her promise, Emmrich's breath hitched, his back tensing. As she began to slip off the ornate rings and bracelets that adorned his fingers and wrists with a gentle tug, his eyes squinted shut, his brow furrowed and twitching. When the last piece of jewelry fell into her palm, he flinched, and Vae paused, worry overtaking her curiosity.

Quickly, her hand moved to cup his cheek. "It's all right," she soothed, her thumb brushing against his skin. "You're all right."

His breathing steadied just enough for her to continue. Carefully, she removed the heavy bracer next, the worn leather scraping against the golden rim as it slid free.

"You're doing great," Vae praised as she set it down on the night stand. "We're almost there."

But when she reached for his glove, Emmrich suddenly pulled his arm away. "I'm sorry," he wheezed. "I can't."

Vae froze, her heart twisting at the anguish in his voice. His expression was one of shame, his face turning away from her. After a moment, she reached out again and guided him back.

"Emmrich," she said, her tone laden with compassion. "Look at me. Please." He hesitated, but opened his eyes to meet hers, the vulnerability in his gaze almost too much for her to bear. "I won't push you," she vowed. "But you need to know—nothing about you could ever disgust me."

He sighed deeply, shivering under the weight of his self-doubt. "The scars... they're unseemly," he warned, gripping his wrist so hard it caused Vae to wince. "It's already a miracle you want to be with an old codger like me. My body is—"

"Stop," Vae pressed, forcing a playful smirk. "You're in better shape than I am."

A weak chuckle escaped him, though it carried a deluge of sadness. For her, he was trying to push through, masking the pain beneath, but she realised the truth.

He wasn't ready.

"All right," she said, rising to her feet. "Let's get some dinner, then."

"Vae?"

"Sweetheart, I said I'm not going to push you. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, but you clearly are." She gestured to the door without a hint of malice or disappointment. "I can wait, however long it takes. For tonight, let's forget this and have a nice—"

Before she took a step, Emmrich's hand shot out, grasping her wrist with surprising persistence. "Wait," he begged, his voice cracking.

She turned back, startled to find him glaring up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, releasing his grip. "I do want to do this. It's just... I'm frightened it will change the way you see me."

Vae's expression softened, and she knelt before him, placing a tender hand on his knee. "Emmrich, do you really think so little of me?"

He froze, guilt flickering across his face. "What? No, of course not! I only meant—!"

His jaw clenched, the contradiction hitting him like a bolt of divine judgement. Vae was young, but she was a woman, and she had chosen to be with him—for better or worse. To assume she would leave him over his past, over some marred skin, was indeed an insult to her character.

But it wasn't true. He trusted her. However difficult, however loudly the voice in his head screamed that she'd recoil at the sight, he trusted her, and he wanted to prove it—even though he knew she'd never demand it. Slowly, he took a breath and offered his arm, the motion hesitant but resolute.

Vae gasped, staring up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm sure."

"All right, then. Stop me, if it's too much for you."

With the utmost care, Vae began to unbutton the long glove, her fingers working indulgently until the fabric slipped free. What lay beneath made her heart ache: a web of burn scars stretched across the top of Emmrich's hand, climbing up and around his forearm. The angry, uneven texture spoke of unimaginable pain and resilience.

"Darling..."

There were so many things she wanted to say, but as the image of an innocent boy crying out for help flashed in her mind, all she could do was stare; not with disgust, but with sorrow for the suffering he had endured.

But Emmrich misunderstood her silence, and his incessant need to fill the quiet overwhelmed him. "It got pinned under debris," he explained, his voice shaking. "Burning rubble, when I tried to clear the wreckage for my parents. I know it's hideous. I have full mobility, but the epidermis never healed quite—"

Before he could finish, Vae leaned in and pressed her lips to the top of his discoloured knuckles. The simple act silenced him, his words catching in his throat.

When she pulled back, she hugged his arm to her chest, holding it like a precious artefact. "I love you, Emmrich," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Scars and all. They're a part of you, and they make you even more beautiful in my eyes."

He whimpered, then pulled her into a tight embrace, his scarred hand cradling her head. Though his reaction was unexpected, Vae smiled and leaned into his chest, her arms wrapping around him like a vice.

"Thank you," he sobbed, his scorched fingers quivering in her hair. "Thank you, my darling."

"You silly man," she moaned, her own eyes welling with tears. "You have nothing to thank me for."

In that moment, the pain Emmrich always seemed to feel disappeared, the weight lifted. His whole life, he'd seen those gruesome marks as a reminder of his failure, but Vae saw something else entirely.

A symbol of his devotion and bravery.

[imujings]

hoshi + work song by hozier? :)

when i was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet in the low lamp light i was free

wc <1k. warnings FLUFF!!!, suggestive (they make out at the end. sorry. i’m normal), lots of kissing, hella praise (someone needs to tell soonyoung he’s doing good RIGHT NOW!!). jay’s musings i am so weak for soft sy + this song makes me go ABSOLUTELY FERAL .°(ಗдಗ。)°. you are so right anon. speak ur truth

The lighting in the room is dim, cozy. It’s well into the morning, sunlight streaming faintly through the curtained windows and finding home atop your bedsheets.

You press a long, soft kiss to Soonyoung’s bare shoulder. He’s been murmuring in his sleep for quite awhile now, shifting around like he’s trying to escape some paranormal entity unbeknownst to you. Your fingers inch under the covers and find his.

“Love,” you hum into his skin.

The man shivers at your touch, jolting awake with a gasp. His hair sticks up in all kinds of directions, unkempt from sleep, and you smooth a hand through it. Soonyoung leans into your fingers with an achingly gentle sigh.

“Nightmare again?” you tilt your head in a question.

He nods, eyes fluttering shut when you run a thumb across his cheek. You trace the knot in his eyebrows with your gaze, all the way down to the slope of his collarbone, exposed and vulnerable.

“I can’t remember much of it now,” Soonyoung confesses. “But it felt like I had this big weight on my shoulders—metaphorically, that is. There was so much guilt it was overwhelming. Like I couldn’t breathe, almost. I was in front of you, and you were looking at me, waiting for me to speak, and… I remember feeling terrified. Of what you would think of me if I told you about what I did.”

While you’re listening, your thumb on his cheek never pauses in its soft, methodical swipes along his skin. The barren sunlight leaves him dappled in a honeying glow.

Your heartbeat pounds loud in your ears, your mind taking action to bring his attention to just how much you yearn for him through a steady rhythm of love—if for nothing else but to soothe his worries.

To reiterate your thoughts, you pull him in, letting your arms lay loose around his neck. Your foreheads rest against the other’s.

“Soonyoung,” you whisper, lips brushing his.

His eyes flicker between your soft, melting gaze and the way your mouth curls to enunciate his name. His own lips are parted, waiting, and you’re eager to give, dipping in to steal a kiss.

“You could never,” you kiss him again and he chases your lips. “Never, ever ever, even try to get me to hate you.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Soonyoung says brokenly. “How could you say that?”

Another kiss—one that’s unhurried, searing with want. Your lips travel to the corner of his mouth and down to his jawline. He whimpers at your nibbling.

“You act as if we are made to be perfect,” is your hushed reply, pressing an open-mouth kiss to underside of his jaw. “You’re talking as if being loved and being perfect are synonyms. As if they mean the same thing.”

“In reality, they simply coexist together. Their relationship is more of a simultaneous thing; you are loved, and at the same time, you are perfect just the way you are. Did you know, I love you? I love you, in your entirety—all your sins, all your fears. I love you because they make you, you. Your hatred, your pain, your burdens—are they not just feelings that coexist with the love inside of you? I love you because you are whole and filled with emotions. I love you because you are love.”

There’s a pause, and you draw your face back up to his level again. Soonyoung is staring at you, eyes glassy and lips wobbling.

You’re wondering if you’ve gone too far with your nonsensical ramblings when he kisses you, and all air is knocked out of your lungs.

“Thank you,” he sobs, and you taste the saltiness of his tears as his lips press against yours, frantic, needy.

His hands are in a frenzy, gripping your bare skin like you’ll disappear at any moment. You whine at his touch, passion overtaking you as your fingers wrap themselves in his locks of hair. The man moans when you tug, and the noise sounds so melodic it has you tearing up yourself.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Soonyoung murmurs; you can’t tell what tears belong to who anymore, but you don’t think it matters when you’re this tangled up in each other.

“You are love, too. My love. You are my freedom—my life, my eternity. Thank you.”

wanna queue a song?

[narcissisticsmoker]

You’re sitting there, surrounded by your friends, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filling the dimly lit restaurant. But the moment your phone vibrates against the table, everything else fades. My name lights up your screen.

“I want a kiss.”

A slow exhale leaves your lips, your fingers tightening around your glass. Your friends are too caught up in their conversation to notice the way your breath hitches, the way heat pools low in your stomach at those four simple words. You glance around the room, as if expecting to see me watching you, waiting.

“I’m with friends.” you reply.

A pause. Then another buzz.

“And? That wasn’t a no.”

You shift in your seat, tucking your legs beneath you, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your pulse pounds. You know me. I never ask for something lightly. And I always take what I want.

“Where?” you type back, almost hesitant.

The response is slow, calculated, like I already know you’re hanging on every second of silence.

“Right now. Soft. Just for me. No one else has to know.”

Your lips part, a subconscious reaction, your tongue darting out to wet them. The air suddenly feels too thick, too warm, your body reacting before your mind even catches up. You press your lips together, a breathless, barely-there kiss against the empty air.

But that’s not enough, is it?

“Again.”

The demand makes your thighs clench. It’s ridiculous, really how easily I can reach you, touch you, even from miles away. You obey without thinking, this time slower, letting the thought of my hands tilting your chin up flood your mind. The way I’d pull you in, deepening the kiss until you forgot everything else.

“Good girl.”

Your breath stutters. Your fingers tremble slightly against your phone screen. And suddenly, the restaurant feels too crowded, your skin too hot.

“Come outside.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. You swallow hard, glancing at your friends, still oblivious, still laughing. But you know how this goes.

You always come when I call.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

I See You As You Are - Pt5

aemond x f!reader 

Series Masterlist

Summary: You and Aemond settle into married life and it’s as if nothing changed besides the fact that you both get to share chambers. Between gifts, conversations, and full moon wishes you both fall more in love. 

Warnings: 18+ t e a s i n g, fingering, bondage, p in v, breeding kink confirmed, on a serious note he finally discusses driftmark w reader so mention of mutilation

Authors Note: what the fuck - anon whoever u are let me kiss u just once for planting this into my brain ily ily ily ily ily and thank u for letting me hijack it i love you and aemond so much 

Word Count: 8.1k lets pretend this is chill and relaxed 🙂

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

The past week has consisted of all of your belongings slowly being moved into Aemonds chambers. You were nervous his softness would disappear now that you are wed but it’s only increased and you realized it was foolish to have that thought in the first place. Your early garden walks are no comparison to walking up to Aemond holding you tightly against him and whispering soft words of adoration.

“Good morning, my beautiful wife.” he hums when he sees your eyes start to open. You yawn and curl into him not ready to begin the day just yet. “What would you like to do today?” he brushes your hair out of your face. 

“I believe your dagger is ready.” you mumble pressing your lips to his chest. 

“My dagger?” he furrows his brows. 

“The one I had commissioned for you.” you look up at him. 

“I told you that you needn’t do that.” he sighs, running his fingers down your back. 

“I didn’t need to but I wanted to.” you hum. “Will you escort me to the blacksmith?” you start to stretch out. 

“I suppose I could do that for something in return.” you squeeze your hand into his side at his words. 

“First you don’t want the dagger and now you want it and something more?” you look at him with a raised brow. 

“I never said I didn’t want the dagger. I said you shouldn’t trouble yourself with getting me gifts.” he purses his lips before pulling you up to them to kiss you. 

“And what is it that you would like?” you throw your legs over his hip to straddle him. 

“Mm, I don’t know yet.” his hands rest on your hips. “Might I have the day to come up with something?” you press your lips to his once more before getting off the bed. 

“I suppose.” you toss over your shoulder. “Help me dress?” you go to turn to him but his hands are once again placed on your waist. 

“I wish to keep you in our chambers naked and filled.” he whispers, pressing his lips to your neck. 

“Then who will go to the smithy’s to get your dagger?” you bite your lip, swallowing back your moan. 

“I will.” he sucks softly on your neck, relishing in your soft noises.

“What if I want to remain by your side today?” a gasp falls from your lips when his teeth graze your heated skin.

“You won’t even know I’m gone if I fuck you into the mattress hard enough.” he smiles when he hears your soft moan. “You’d be fast asleep with my seed slowly leaking out of you.” you grab onto his arm as he engulfs one of your breasts. 

“The way you speak is- Aemond,” you claw into his arm as he brings his other hand between your thighs. 

“The way I speak is what?” he chuckles, sliding his fingers down the sides of your slit. 

“Filthy,” you pant as he continues to tease you, avoiding where you want him the most. “Just touch me, please,” you whine. 

“I am touching you.” he whispers in your ear. 

“I want more.” he smiles against your skin at the small whimper.

“Tell me what you want.” he slides his finger through your center. “Why are you so wet?” he continues to slowly slide his finger up your slit. 

“Because I want you to touch me more.” you whine. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” he rolls your nipple, feeling your legs start to shake around his hand. 

“Like this but more.” your nails dig into his arms. 

“I could do this all day.” he nods into your neck as he continues with his teasing touches. “Play with your slick cunny while you shake in my arms. Do you think you’d come if I just kept up like this?” he listens to your soft gasps.

“Yes,” you nod. “Please, just a little faster.” your hips jerk into his hand.

“No, no. Just like this.” he chuckles at your whine. 

“But Aem-“ he pinches your nipple pulling a cry from you. 

“Shh, just like this.” you lean back against him as your legs continue to shake. “Would you like me to bring you back to bed and fuck you into your pillow?” you let out a soft plea at his words. “Stuff you with my seed again to make sure it takes? Your cunny is begging for it so badly it’s weeping all over my fingers.” 

“Please,” you gasp, rocking your hips. 

“Please, what?” he sucks softly on your neck. 

“Fill me.” his teeth graze against you. “Please. I wish to carry our child. Please, Aemond,” you almost sob when he removes his hands. He’s pulling you over to the bed and soon you’re falling on your pillows. He presses himself against your back and presses his lips to your shoulder. 

“Remember you can always tell me if it’s too much.” he whispers, bringing your hands to your pillow and you turn your head to the side. 

“Please, I need you,” your voice pleading. Your head rests against the pillow when his fingers dig into your hips and raise them. “Thank you,” he groans at your soft words as he coats his cock with your wetness. 

“You are so very welcome.” he presses into you in one motion, watching you dig into the pillow. 

“Yes,” you whine and he watches your body tremble before he feels you fall apart around him. 

“Mm, you’re sensitive this morning.” he smiles, running a hand up your back. He starts a quick pace and is graced with your small gasps as you hold onto the pillow. You turn your head and bite into the pillow and he chuckles. “No, I want to hear you.” he leans over you and turns your head back. He starts to push into you once more, regaining his fast rhythm. 

“Mm, I’m-I, Aemond,” you try to look at him but your eyes keep shutting. “Please,” you feel your pleasure build quickly as you’re surrounded by him. “Yes,” you arch your back more and gasp when his palm lands on your ass. “Again.” you dig your nails into the pillow when he lands his hand on your ass once more.

“Always begging for more.” he chuckles lowly, digging his fingers into your flesh as your continued pleas greet his ears. “Your cunny is begging just as desperately for my seed.” he whispers, starting to snap his hips into you faster.

The only sounds around your shared chambers are your noises and the sound of skin on skin.Your pleas become louder and louder until your pleasure crashes into you. His hips falter feeling you pulse around him before he continues at his pace listening to your soft noises. You mumble slurred pleas beneath him while you continue to flutter around him. With one last thrust he pours his seed into you pressing his forehead to your shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he pants. 

“Yes,” the word barely a breath. 

“Is there anything you would like?” he presses his lips to your back. 

“Tea.” he watches you nod with shut eyes.

“I’ll be back.” you nod once and he sits back to watch as he pulls out. “Perfect.” he watches his seed slowly leak from you. 

He makes the tea for you as quickly as he’s able and by the time he’s back to you, you’re asleep. He sets the cup on the side table and pulls the sheets over you. He watches you for a moment soundly asleep in his bed before he begins to dress. He stops at the table to write you a letter and leave it by the tea should you wake before he returns. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

When you open your eyes once more you feel the stickiness between your thighs and bury your head deeper into the bed with a small smile. You’ve never felt so improper but so satisfied. You press into the pillow more before shifting your hips, sighing. You look at the side table and find a cup of tea and a rolled parchment. You sit up wondering if he’s truly written you a letter. 

~

Wife,

I had hoped to return before you could find this but I suppose now you can have a letter of your own. 

I’m going to the Blacksmith as you requested and I have to stop and pick up one more thing - then I will return. 

I wish I could articulate better through letters as you - it’s why I’ve always kept them. 

 My wish for the moon: I wish to return before you wake so you don’t read this. 

~

You sit in bed with a smile on your face imagining him sitting at the table and writing this. You pull the drawer on the side table to place the letter and a grin spreads across your face. The one place you didn’t think to look. You’ve been searching all over his chambers for your letters and you never expected them to be next to his bed. You pull them out and sift through them feeling a blush creep up your neck. You hear the door open and quickly start putting the letters back as you keep glancing at the steps. Aemond reaches the landing and watches as you try to shove the parchments in the drawer. He sets things on the table before walking over to you.

“Handle those with care.” he chuckles. “They were in there neatly and in sequential order.” he opens the drawer more and starts to organize them. 

“I wanted to place the one you gave me in there.” you watch his neck flush. 

“I had hoped I would return before you could read it.” he places the neat pile into the drawer and plucks his from your fingers and starts a new pile with it. 

“Let me see the dagger. I wish to make sure they did a fine job.” he watches you purse your lips and look across his belt. “Was it not ready? My Gods I’ll go down there myself.” he watches you throw the sheets off and start to rise with a furrowed brow. 

“Relax.” he pulls you back to him. “It’s on the table. I haven’t taken it out yet so you might open your gifts at the same time as I.” he chews his lip watching your eyes look up to him. 

“My gifts?” you narrow your eyes. 

“Let me get you a robe so we can go to the table.” he watches you smile. 

“Why do I need a robe? We’re alone.” he lifts you from the bed and starts toward the wardrobe. 

“Because if you don’t cover up the only gift you’re getting today is my cock filling your cunny.” he’s satisfied with the flush blossoming across your chest. 

“Can I just have that as an extra gift then?” his eye darkens as he sets you down. You blink up at him as he wraps a robe around you. “Please?” you whisper and his lips are on you the next second. 

“Let us both open our gifts.” he pulls back. “And I must get you food and a bath at least. Maybe even go to the library or gardens. You’ve been in our chambers for the past week.” he softly chuckles at your pout. 

As he leads you to the table he thinks back to when he thought that you would feel like a prisoner, yet here you are willingly hiding in the sheets begging to repeatedly be filled. He watches the robe flow behind you and he can’t help but admire you as you perch on a chair around the table. 

“I’m terrified of how much I love you.” he watches a small smile spread across your face. 

“Might you teach me the language?” you tilt your head. 

“It’ll take time, it’s difficult.” he hums and takes a seat across from you. 

“I don’t foresee myself being busy with anything besides loving you and bearing our children.” you nod and his heart skips and he nods at you once.

“Open yours first.” he pushes the wrapped box to you. 

You undo the wrapping and steal glances at him when you start to open the lid. A small sound comes from you as you pull the first book out. It’s beautifully bound in a white leather with gold lettering. The second book is as equally as stunning and you begin to flip through the pages looking at the fresh black ink unread by others eyes besides the person who wrote them. He watches you place the books side by side and slowly look up to him with glossy eyes. 

“How did you know?” your lip wobbles. 

“You’re not the only one who can ask the maesters what someone’s favorite book is. He told me these were the ones you requested when you first got here. I had quite the company working on these just for you.” his words get softer. “I hope they’re to your liking.” he watches your face crumble as tears start to pour over the edge. “I’m sorry. Do you not like them? What can I do?” he’s on his feet and walking over to you in seconds. 

“They are so very perfect.” you look up at him. “Just like you.” you rise and pull him into a hug. “You didn’t have to do this.” you squeeze your arms around him tighter. 

“You are worth it and you certainly deserve it.” he presses his lips to the top of your head. “And if you’re going to shower me in gifts, know that I will answer that with a storm of gifts for you.” 

“You haven't even opened your first gift yet.” you pull back and pout. He chuckles and pulls you back to his chair with him. You stand next to him and push the bag closer to him. 

“I still don't think you should have gotten me anything.” he hums, looking at the bag. 

“Aemond.” you whine. “Please,” you whisper. You slowly smile as he opens the bag and when he starts to pull it out by the hilt you gasp at how it came out. 

Aemond holds the dagger in both of his hands as his eye studies every inch of it. It has the right weight and balance to it and the details you had them put into the leather hilt is.. exquisite.. something he doesn’t deserve. He runs his finger down the length of the blade before flipping it and offering that side the same careful eye. He looks up at you and sees you chewing your lip. 

“Is it to your liking? I had told them what I wanted and that it was for you. I don’t know much about blades or how to have them made but I could go to a different blacksmith or..” he watches and listens as you ramble on and he’s at a loss for words. He sets the dagger back on the table and rises to pull you into his embrace. 

“I like it very much. It’s beautiful and well made.” he smooths your hair. “I will wear it in place of my other.” you look up at him with furrowed brows. 

“You don’t have to replace it. I know you like that one dearly.” he sighs at your soft expression. 

“I do like that one dearly, but I love this one. I’ll have you with me everywhere I go now. Thank you.” he pulls you back against him. 

“Thank you for my books.” you mumble into his chest. 

“Those were only the beginning.” he chuckles, squeezing you tighter. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

The past week and some odd days have been pure bliss. Aemond wakes you in the early morning to ‘help you get more rest’ before he goes to train and leaves you in bed fast asleep. Surprisingly you wake before he returns and you rise and begin to ready for the day. You sit at the table in your shared chambers to quickly write out a letter for Aemond before you make your way to the library. 

~

Husband, 

I went to the library to show everyone you don’t keep me tied to the bed - which I don’t think I’d quite mind. 

I’ll be in my section on the second floor if you would like to come visit me after your meeting - I’m never opposed to your company. 

Also tonight is the full moon - our second together. 

My first wish for the moon: I wish for me and Aemond to look upon the moon while the Keep and city sleeps. 

My second wish for the moon: I wish for me and Aemond to look upon the moon with Vhagar in hopes that she’ll make a wish of her own - and so that we might have more privacy from curious eyes in the garden. 

I love you - I’m counting down the moments until I’m graced with your presence. 

~

You smile at your words and delicately roll up the parchment and display it on the table where he’ll see it. You smooth your skirts and make your way down the steps. You click the doors shut and begin to make your way to the library to hopefully get lost in a book until Aemond comes to you. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Aemond reads over your parchment twice before shaking his head with a smile. Of course only you could ask him to tie you to his bed and then ask to wish upon the full moon with him and think nothing of it. He knows you didn’t mean it but Gods it has his mind racing and pulling open your wardrobe to find miscellaneous ribbon. He walks back to the bed with a piece of green silk and threads it through the center of the headboard. 

He shakes his head to clear the thoughts of you tied and squirming in bed. He walks back to the table and reads over your letter once more before walking to the side table to place it on top of the pile. He walks to the other side of your shared chambers and softly pushes open the door to the tunnels and pulls out a box. He’s been waiting to give you this gift and tonight is the perfect opportunity. He sets the box on the table before making his way down the stairs to go find you in the library. 

When he walks into the library he lets his eye close, taking in the calming space. He nods at the maester before walking up the stairs and quietly making it to your section. He finds you curled up near the window being bathed in sunlight as you hold your book closely. He takes a seat across from you and he watches you glance up once and look back to your book before your eyes snap back up to his. 

“Finish your chapter.” he nods at you and begins to make himself a cup of tea. He glances at you while you chew your lip as you read. He takes his seat once more and watches you shake your head before closing the book. “How is your book?” he watches you purse your lips. 

“Frustrating.” you huff. He listens to you talk about your book as he sips his tea and nods. You’re so lively and passionate and he leans back to admire you. “Don’t look at me like that, we’re in the library.” you whisper. 

“Like what?” he tilts his head with a smirk. 

“You know.” he watches your cheeks flush. 

“I have a gift for you in our chambers. Maybe two but I think the other one counts for me but it was in your letter.” he watches you chew your cheek in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” you tilt your head. 

“You’ll see later.” he hums. “I thought we could read our book while we’re here.” you nod at him and he starts to stand. “Shall I go get it or do you want to come to my section?” he walks over to you and brushes his knuckles on your cheek. 

“I’ll come to yours.” you lean into his hand. “I could use a change of scenery.” he helps you stand before escorting you down to his small section. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

The entire walk back up to your shared chambers after supper you have been peppering Aemond with questions about what he could have possibly gotten you. He shakes his head and softly hums while keeping you both moving through the halls. 

“I’ve actually had these made for you for some time.” he opens the doors as ushers you inside. 

“Since before we were wed?” you turn back to him as you start up the stairs. 

“Yes.” he whispers and you smile watching his cheeks flush. “Up the stairs.” he turns you around. 

You walk straight to the table and take a seat in front of the box. You turn and watch as he walks over to you slowly and you start to pout. You groan holding your hand out for him and he slows his pace even more with a smile on his face.

“Aemond,” you whine, stretching your hand out further. “Thank you,” you smile up at him when he finally reaches you and offers you his hand. 

“Go on.” he nods at the box. 

When your hand leaves his he brings his hand to the back of your neck to softly rub against the smooth skin. You lean into his touch for a moment before starting to open the box. You pull out a dark pair of trousers and a matching jerkin. You admire the detail and craftsmanship before turning and looking up at Aemond slightly confused. 

“Do you not like me in dresses and gowns?” you tilt your head. 

“My Gods I love you in dresses and gowns.” his hand trails to your jaw before softly caressing your cheek. “These are for flying. If you wanted to fly with me and Vhagar.” you gasp. 

“Can I? She’ll let me? You’ll let me? Oh Gods, Aemond,” you jump up and turn to him with a grin. “Can I really?” he chuckles as you grab onto the front of his jerkin. 

“Yes.” he nods with a smile as you wrap your arms around him. “I thought we could fly under the full moon. Vhagar can take us to find true privacy while the three of us wish upon the moon.” he presses his lips to the top of your head. 

“Can we go now? Please, please,” you lean back and look up at him. “Please Aemond,” you gasp as his hands start to unlace your dress. 

“I’m just helping you dress.” he chuckles when you look up at him with lidded eyes. 

“Not even quick? You’ve only filled me once today.” he coughs at your words. “And that was this morning.” you pout as your laces are loosened. 

“I don’t like to be quick with you.” he starts to pull your dress down. “I like you trembling and begging before I even think about filling you.” he inhales deeply as you step out of your dress. 

“I’m begging for you now.” you push your bottom lip out. 

“We have a full moon to wish upon.” he shakes his head softly and grabs your trousers from the table. 

He helps you dress despite your pleas. It’s taking all of his restraint as you repeatedly ask to ‘be filled’ followed by your soft little whimpers. He grabs your jerkin and starts to fasten the buttons as you hold onto his arms whispering his name. 

“My sweet little wife.” he grabs your chin and tilts it up to him. 

“Yes?” you lick your lips. 

“Once we return I will do anything you desire.” he nods slowly looking at your eyes. 

“Might I just have one kiss to tide me over?” you reach up on your tiptoes. He presses his lips to yours quickly and then he’s pulling you towards the stairs. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Aemond leads you through the gate and you curl into him as you see Vhagar start to stir. You look up at her bathed in the moonlight and shake your head. She’s utterly amazing and massive and honestly, terrifying. You cling onto Aemond as he leads you closer and you look up at him. 

“I’m nervous.” you whisper and he looks down at you. 

“Why?” he turns to you and brushes your hair back. 

“How do you know she wants me to come with?” you chew your lip looking past him at Vhagar slowly blinking and stretching. “What if she doesn’t like me?” you scrunch your brows. 

“Vhagar,” Aemond turns and you hide behind his back as her head raises. “Would you allow my wife the opportunity to look upon your face closer? Show her that you’re not as scary as you look.” you hear his tone become playful. 

Vhagar chuffs and starts to lower her neck. “Come.” he reaches for your hand and you grip onto his tightly as he leads you closer to her head. “Put your hand out with mine.” you follow his motions and Vhagar drops her head even more. 

“Slow and easy.” he feels you press into his side as Vhagar moves her head closer. She stops so the end of her snout is about five feet away from your outstretched hand. You can feel her breath fanning your hair back as Aemond starts to step you both closer. 

“Does she like me?” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of Vhagar. “What if she hates me? Oh Gods what if she eats me Aemond?” he turns you to him with a small smile he’s trying so badly to hide. “No you’re laughing.” 

“No, no, no,” he cups your face. “It’s just.. I think you should think of Vhagar like me. You know how you were scared of me at first but-

“I wasn’t scared, I was intimidated.” you purse your lips. 

“Yes, of course.” he smiles, brushing his thumbs on your cheeks. “Vhagar is just intimidating but I promise she likes you. You know by our readings the riders and dragons bond is very close, similar to them sharing the same feelings and sentiments. I love you very much so in turn..” he watches you nod. 

“She loves me very much?” you whisper and he nods. “That does seem fitting. An intimidating dragon with her intimidating rider.” you nod and offer him a smile. “Well if she loves me can you tell her that I love her?” he nods and turns towards Vhagar. 

“My wife loves you very much. She wishes for us all to fly under the moon. I think after the first ride she may fall more in love with you than she is with me.” Vhagar blows her warm breath across his face. “Mm, she’s in the business of giving gifts so you may find yourself showered with cattle and goats, maybe even some new things to adorn your saddle.” Vhagar moves her head to look at you. 

“That sounds more than just a simple ‘I love you.’ Aemond.” you come up behind him. 

“I was telling her that you want her to come with us to wish upon the full moon.” he steps closer and feels you step with him. “And how I think you’ll love her so freely after your first ride.” he keeps stepping closer to Vhagar until his hand brushes against her neck. “And how you’ll shower her with gifts once you warm up to her.” he coaxes you out from behind his back and he watches your eyes widen taking in the close proximity. 

“My Gods she’s truly amazing.” he watches with a smile as you reach out and place your hand next to his. “We might not be able to understand each other but I think you’re very beautiful and simply exquisite.” you nod, patting her neck. 

“Would you like to go for a ride?” Aemond watches you turn to him and nod quickly. He leads you over to the rope ladder and helps you start your ascent. He helps you settle and takes a seat behind you as you grip onto his hand. 

“We’re very high up.” you whisper looking over the side. 

“Vhagar and I will die before we ever let you fall. You are safe. I promise.” he presses his lips to the side of your head. “I need you to be very brave and hold onto the saddle because I have to grab the reins.” his voice is soft and reassuring.

“Can I hold onto your arms or wrists or-

“You can grab back onto my hands.” he nods. “You're going to be safe. I promise.” he kisses the side of your head. “Are you ready?” he whispers into your ear. 

“Yes.” your grip tightens. 

“Fly, Vhagar.” he hears your small gasp and feels your nails dig into him as Vhagar starts to stand. 

As Vhagar climbs you both into the skies you cling onto his hands tighter. The wind is blowing into your face so fiercely and you lean down closer to the saddle and Aemond moves with you. Once she begins to even out you slowly pull back from the saddle and your breath catches. 

“Are you okay?” he leans more into you. 

“I-“ you shake your head. “I’m speechless. This is just..” you’re at a loss. 

“I’m going to have us land in the woods. It might feel scary when we’re landing but you’re safe.” he takes one of his hands and wraps it around your front. “You can squeeze my hands as hard as you need to.” you nod your head. 

He brings his hand back to the rein and you wrap your fingers around his hand tightly. He watches your knuckles turn white as Vhagar starts towards the ground. When she lands in a clearing he helps you off and you turn to him once you’re on solid ground again. You pull him against you and hug him as tight as you're able. 

“Are you okay?” his arms wrap around you. 

“You both amaze me.” you mumble into his jerkin. 

“Shall we wish upon the moon?” he pulls back to take in your red cheeks. 

“I would love nothing more.” you nod. “Oh,” you tug on his jerkin. “Will you tell Vhagar to wish with us?” he smiles at your request. 

“Of course.” he kisses your forehead and shares soft words with Vhagar and she looks at the moon before flattening out on the ground and closing her eyes. 

“What do you think she wished for?” you whisper. 

“Probably a nap or maybe cattle.” he watches you look at his dragon and then back to him. 

“Then can we bring her cattle tomorrow?” he chuckles softly and nods to you. 

“I suppose we could do that.” you smile up at him. 

“Let’s make our wish.” you nod and turn and look up into the sky. For a couple moments there is silence and peace and the only sound is Vhagars breathing. You slowly open your eyes and turn to Aemond who still has his eye shut. You patiently wait and admire him and he slowly blinks his eye open. 

“What did you wish for tonight?” he pulls you against him once more. 

“There is no pressure, it’s simply just a wish but I would like to see you. But don’t feel inclined.” you shake your head. “I should’ve said something else I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable and-

“My wish for the moon was for you to still love me after I show you.” you search his face. 

“Of course I will love you. I will always love you.” you blink up at him. 

“Then I shall finish the story I couldn’t before.” he nods and pulls you over to a larger clearing. “Would you like to sit?” you nod and take a seat across from him and hold your hands out for his. 

“Whenever you are ready. You can change your mind if you want. It’s never been my desire to make you do something you don’t want.” you nod at him and his thumbs brush against your hands. 

“Vhagar’s last rider had recently fallen as I said. She was my cousin. We were at Driftmark for her funeral.” you watch him softly shake his head before he looks back to you. “Aegon was drunk and my mother had gone to bed. I went out and found her. I had truly thought she would swallow me whole.. I would’ve been content with that.” he shrugs, looking at your intertwined hands. 

“The first time I sat in that saddle I felt so..” his face scrunches as he looks for the word. “Euphoric, so happy. I felt as if I finally belonged. That maybe they would stop bullying me. I had waited so long to have a dragon of my own and then Vhagar accepted me. She saw me and accepted me..” he shakes his head. 

“She took us into the skies and I almost fell off.” his eye meets yours and he has a boyish smile on his face. “My Gods I thought I was truly going to die. I was holding onto her only by the reins.” he chuckles as you look at him with wide eyes. “That might’ve been the first time I felt truly happy.” he chews his cheek. 

“We landed back at Driftmark and I was so confident. I had walked into the hall and my cousins and nephews had rounded the corner.” he swallows and shakes his head. “The younger of my two cousins had said Vhagar was hers to claim but..” he flares his nostrils. “Dragons are not property. They’re not something you own. No one has a right to dragons. If Vhagar didn’t want me to be her rider she would’ve burned me. I just..” he clenches his jaw. 

“I said some things and called them names and then it turned into this verbal fight and then they had all just..” you scoot closer until your knees are touching. “They had all attacked me, all at once. I was alone, there was no one to help. Everyone was so angry and we were all yelling and then one of my nephews pulled out a knife. I had known there was animosity but.. Anyways I had picked up a rock.” he can’t bring himself to look at you. 

“Someone threw sand in my face.” he shakes his head. “I don’t.. I’m sorry.” you watch as he closes his eye. “Luke ran at me with the dagger while I was blinded by the sand, I couldn’t see. The rock was already forgotten and on its way back to the ground but,” he exhales deeply. “He had sliced my face. Straight across my eye. It had all happened so quickly, it hurt so badly. I was just so scared.” he wants to look at you but he can’t bring himself to do it. 

“The maesters stitched my face but there was nothing that could be done for my eye. That was the happiest day of my life and it was ruined. Overshadowed. Meaningless. For a fleeting moment, in hopes to console my mother who was in hysterics, I told her it was a fair exchange. An eye for a dragon but..” he shakes his head. 

“There was no exchange to be had. Vhagar didn’t belong to anyone.” his eye snaps up to you at your soft words. He reaches up and wipes away your tears from your red cheeks. “You were just a boy.” your lip wobbles. “I’m sorry I’m crying.” you shake your head. 

“I’ve shed enough tears over my eye. You needn’t shed more.” he pulls you into his lap and he relaxes as you curl against him and bury your head into his neck. 

“I’m sorry.” he feels your tears on his neck. 

“Shh,” he smooths your hair and pulls you closer. “I’m fine now, it’s okay.” you curse yourself for crying and having him comfort you. 

“Aemond,” you pull back and he takes in your puffy eyes and wet cheeks. “I’m not crying because I pity you. I’m crying because I’m angry and frustrated.” you lay a hand on his chest. “Just a boy. Only ten.” you flare your nostrils and you press your hand against him harder. “Just a little boy who wanted a dragon.” you sniffle.

“Do you,” he swallows and shakes his head. “Do you still wish to see?” he meets your eyes. 

“I do but only if you wish to show me.” you nod. 

“I do.” he whispers. “I’m nervous.” he looks away from you, scolding himself for saying that.

“Why are you nervous?” his hands squeeze into your sides as he turns back to you. 

“I won’t be able to handle it if you can no longer look at me. No longer love me.” he frowns. 

“I will always love you.” one of your hands softly cups his cheek. “And I will always find you handsome. I think I look at you and admire you more than you know.” you offer him a soft smile. 

“I would know because I’m always looking at you.” you see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

“Not when I wake in the middle of the night.” you watch his smile get wider. “You look so peaceful. Your hair is fanned all around your head. Though when I try to move to get a better look you pull me closer.” you nibble your lip. 

“It’s okay. I watch you when you sleep too.” he chuckles at your small flush before chewing on his cheek. “If you wish to see me then you can remove my eyepatch.” he hands are firmly settled on your waist. 

“You’re sure?” you brush his hair back off his shoulders. 

“I am.” he nods once. 

He can hear his heart in his ears as you slowly reach for his eyepatch. Your touch is light upon his skin and he watches your face as you start to lift it off his head. He watches your pupils dilate as you take him in and he’s waiting for you to say something but he’s nervous of to what you’ll say. He flexes his fingers on your waist when you bring your hand up to his cheek. 

“Please say something.” he hates the way his voice breaks. 

“You are very beautiful.” you hum, brushing your thumb along the bottom of his scar. “My well groomed warrior.” you smile and bring some strands of his hair back over his shoulders. “Your sapphire is exquisite.” you shake your head and pull back to cup his other cheek as well. “I think you are very handsome and I still plan on looking at you whenever I can.” you wipe away a stray tear that falls from his eye. “Even when you’re sleeping,” you shake your head. “Especially when you’re sleeping.” his fingers dig into your sides. “I still love you. I will forever.” you nod and press your lips against his. His arms wrap around your back to hold you closer. 

“Thank you.” he whispers against your lips. “Thank you.” he repeats, holding you tighter. 

“Thank you.” you mumble into his neck.

“Would you like to make another wish with me?” he pulls back and is greeted by your smile. 

“I would love that.” you nod. The two of you crane your necks back and look up at the moon. You both send your wishes up amongst the stars before curling back against each other. “What did you wish for this time?” you mumble against his chest. 

“For a maester to tell us you’re carrying our child.” he slides one of his hands from your back to your stomach. 

“Mm, you should’ve filled me before we left for good measure.” he blinks at you before laughing. 

“What was your wish?” he looks at you amused. 

“That you would take us back to our chambers and fi-

“Let us wait no longer.” he lifts you both up from the ground and starts back towards Vhagar. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

The both of you walk through the dim halls of the Keep enjoying the barrenness save for the handful of guards. His hand is clasped in yours tightly as he starts to lead you up the main stairs. You curl into his side as a draft blows down the stairs and he still can’t wrap his head around how unconditional your love for him is. 

“What was my second gift?” you look up at him.

“Hm?” he looks down at your voice. 

“You said two gifts earlier.” his eye darkens remembering the silk he tied to the headboard and he lets out a low chuckle. 

“It’s in our chambers.” he hears your soft whine. “We’re here.” he chuckles, pushing the door open for you. He’s a step behind you on the steps and you look around the chambers before turning to him with pursed lips. 

“Aemond.” you walk over to him and his fingers are unfastening your buttons the second you’re close enough. 

“In your letter you wrote me earlier,” he starts to pull your jerkin off. “You said you were going to the library to show them I didn’t keep you tied to the bed.” he pulls your slip out of your trousers before unlacing them and pushing them down. “Which you followed that by saying you wouldn’t mind being tied to the bed.” you step out of the trousers and he starts to lead you toward the bed. 

“I did.” you chew on your lip as he starts to lift your slip off. 

“So my beautiful wife,” he grabs onto your waist. “Would you like to be tied to the bed while I make you feel good and fill you?” he smiles as your flush deepens. 

“Yes.” you nod quickly. “What should we use?” he chuckles as you turn to go find something but he pulls you back. 

“I already put a silk ribbon on the headboard before I came to you in the library.” he helps you lay back on the bed. “Arms up.” you watch as he sits on the side of the bed and reaches for your wrists. “Too tight?” he glances down at you as he starts to tie the ribbon. 

“You could make it tighter.” his breathing deepens at your soft voice and he tugs them tighter.

“Better?” you nod your head. “I like this very much.” he presses his lips to yours. He presses his lips down your neck and starts to brush his thumb against one of your nipples. He smiles against your neck feeling you pull against the silk. “Mm, is my little wife all tied up?” he presses his lips below your ear and kisses further down to take your other nipple in his mouth. 

“Aemond,” you whine when he takes the bud between his teeth. “Please,” you feel him chuckle against your chest before swirling his tongue around your hardened peak. 

He lifts off of your nipple and stands up to start to remove his jerkin. He watches you squeeze your thighs together and pout at him.Your soft pleas only make him slow down his movements more making you toss your head back into the pillows. He pulls off his tunic next and you watch him with lidded eyes. 

“Please, please Aemond,” you pull on the silk, sighing.

“Hm?” he tilts his head, slowly unlacing his trousers. 

“Please touch me.” he abandons taking his trousers off and grabs your leg to open them for him. “Husband,” you softly whisper, spreading your other leg wider. 

He trails his fingers up the inside of your thigh as he watches your legs softly shake. His fingers slide beside your slit and continue up to your breasts and to your mouth. He tilts his head and lets his fingers linger on your lips. You part your lips and he presses his pointer and middle fingers in against your tongue. He raises his eyebrow at you and you wrap your lips around his fingers and your tongue softly brushes up against them. 

You’re too focused on looking at him that it surprises you when he brings his other hand between your thighs. His thumb barely touches your bud but with every swipe it leaves your hips jerking off the bed. You softly whimper around his fingers before he pulls them out. You look up at him with lidded eyes as his thumb starts to circle your bud with more pressure. He smiles watching your eyes roll back as he pushes the two fingers from your mouth into your cunny. 

“Aemond,” you pant, gripping onto the silk. He sits on the bed next to you and starts to move his fingers watching your thighs quake. “Yes, please,” you gasp. 

He watches as his fingers get coated in your wetness as he fastens his pace. You arch off the bed and he smiles watching you practically serve your breasts to him. He leans over and captures one of your nipples and he’s graced with cries of his name. He chuckles when your thighs slam around his hands as he continues as he was. 

“Aemond,” you gasp as the silk bites into your wrists. 

“What do you need?” he flicks his tongue against your nipple. He listens to you try to form a sentence but you go taut beneath him once more. “Was that it?” he lifts up from your chest and sees your face scrunched and flushed with pleasure. 

“You,” you pant. “I need you, please,” each word is breathier than the last. “I want to be-

“Filled. Yes, I know.” he chuckles, removing his hands from you and rising from the bed once more. “It’s all day.” he smirks, pushing his trousers down. “It’s always ‘Aemond, please.’ using your sweet voice.” he shakes his head and spreads your legs wider to settle between them. “I’m certain you’re carrying our child. It’s just a matter of when we can tell.” he presses into you and your eyes flutter shut. 

“Please,” the plea barely audible. 

“What do you want?” he watches your lips part as he snaps his hips into you. “Tell me.” he grunts as he keeps up with his relentless pace. 

“More.” you whimper. 

He grabs your legs and presses them against your chest as he pounds into you. High pitched cries come from you and he feels you pulse around him. He smiles hearing your wetness seep out of you while he continues at his pace. Your toes curl as your pleasure feels never ending. His pace never falters when you feel his warmth spread throughout you while his fingers dig into your legs. He continues to rock his hips before pulling out and watching your filled cunny leak. He hears you softly whine and he sets your legs down and unties the ribbon. 

“Thank you.” you murmur and he watches you stay settled where you are before he lays in the space next to you. “I think you’re right.” you hum, leaning into his hand as he brushes your hair off your neck. 

“About what?” he presses his lips to the side of your head and you turn to curl into his chest. 

“My moon blood is almost three weeks late now.” his heart skips at your words. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he whispers and you shrug. 

“I didn’t want to get too excited.” you mumble. “But I am.” you peel your eyes open to look up at him. “I wanted to be sure.” he nods, stroking your cheek. “I want to be carrying our child so very badly.” your voice cracks and he holds you closer. 

“I know that you are.” he presses his lips to your forehead once more before watching as your eyes shut once more. “Now sleep so you can wake in the middle of the night and stare at me.” he watches a smile form on your face. 

“I call it admiring.” you press your lips against his chest. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌

surprise shawty next chapter is a pregnancy chapter bc why would i deny us overprotective and obsessed aemond over preg!wife!reader 

i see u as u are taglist: @readerselegance @sinistersnakey

taglist ✍️

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers @eternalwinters @rere10 @sxlsvv @sarahrosw36q @tricksterreaper @somethingsaladsomething

[woozinhos]

Mollie Congrats on 1k!!! You deserve it! Can I please request a Joshua smut with arranged marriage trope? I Love your Josh works sm!

Notes: I’m back gang had a lil break but I’m continuing writing :D

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Smut below the cut

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

You had always known that your life was going to be a product of an arranged marriage, but you never expected to feel this way about your arranged husband. Joshua Hong, the man you were destined to marry, was nothing like you had imagined. He was kind, gentle, and surprisingly understanding of your situation.

As the two of you sat across from each other at the dinner table, discussing the terms of your marriage, you couldn't help but feel a strange flutter in your chest whenever his eyes met yours. He was different from any other man you had met before, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way that you couldn't explain. As the weeks passed, you and Joshua grew closer, finding solace in each other's company despite the circumstances of your marriage.

You found yourself seeking out his touch more and more, craving the feeling of his hand on yours or his arm around your waist. One night, after a particularly stressful day, Joshua came to your room and found you sitting on the edge of your bed, tears streaming down your face. He knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Hey," he said softly, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on the back of your hands. "What's wrong?" You looked at him, your heart heavy with the weight of your emotions.

"I don't know," you said, your voice trembling. "I just feel so trapped, like I'm stuck in this life I never wanted." Joshua's expression softened as he listened to you, his eyes filled with understanding.

"I know this isn't ideal," he said quietly. "But I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're happy. You don't have to go through this alone." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself leaning into him, seeking comfort in his presence.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You buried your face in his chest, feeling safe and protected in his arms. As you held each other, the air between you grew thick with tension, a mixture of unspoken desires and unresolved emotions. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a mix of vulnerability and need.

"Joshua," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I need you." His eyes darkened at your words, and he cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"I'm here," he said, his voice low and husky. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches away from yours.

"Tell me what you need," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll give you anything you want." Your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, feeling a mixture of desire and desperation.

"I need you to make me forget," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Forget about the arranged marriage, forget about the expectations and the pressure. I just need to feel something real, something true." Joshua's eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and possessiveness as he heard your words. He pulled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he looked up at you.

"You have no idea how much I want to make you forget," he said, his voice low and husky. "To make you feel good, to make you mine." He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming over your body as he pulled you closer to him. You melted into his embrace, surrendering to the heat and passion that was building between you. As the kiss deepened, Joshua's hands began to wander, exploring every inch of your body with a possessive touch. You moaned softly as his lips moved down your neck, his tongue tracing a path of fire along your skin. His hands found the hem of your shirt, and he tugged it off, revealing your bare skin to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his eyes raking over your body with a mixture of desire and appreciation. He trailed his fingers down your chest, his touch sending shivers through your body.

"So perfect," he murmured, his lips finding your collarbone and nipping at the sensitive skin there. He began to unbutton your pants, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment of this. As he slipped your pants off, leaving you in only your underwear, he looked up at you with a possessive glint in his eyes.

"You're mine," he said, his voice low and firm. "No one else can have you like this." You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt his claim over you. He pulled you closer, his body pressed against yours as he continued to kiss and touch you. "Say it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you breathed out, the words feeling both like a surrender and a release. Joshua's eyes darkened with satisfaction at your words, and he kissed you again, his tongue tangling with yours as he pushed you back onto the bed. As he stripped off his clothes, revealing his toned body to you, he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.

"I can't believe we're doing this," he said, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily. "But I don't care. I want you, and I want you now." Joshua's kiss was hungry and demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth as he pressed his body against yours. He pulled back slightly, his lips hovering just above yours as he spoke.

"I know we should wait," he said, his voice strained with desire. "But I can't help myself. You're too irresistible." You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as you whispered back.

"I don't want to wait," you said, your voice low and seductive. "I want you now, here, and there's nothing wrong with that." Joshua reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom from the drawer. He tore open the package with his teeth, his eyes never leaving yours as he rolled it on.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice rough with desire as he positioned himself between your legs. You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," you whispered, looking up at him with a mixture of desire and trust. He smiled at your response, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and passion.

"Good," he said, his voice low and seductive. "Because I'm going to make you feel so good." He leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss as he entered you, filling you completely. You gasped against his lips as he began to move, his body rocking against yours with a steady rhythm. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight, so perfect."

"I can't believe I get to fuck this pussy all the time," he growled, his voice rough with desire. He nipped at your earlobe, his hips moving faster and harder as he continued to thrust into you. You moaned at his words, the sound sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

He continued to whisper filthy things in your ear as he moved, his hands roaming over your body and his lips trailing hot kisses along your neck and collarbone. As he hit a particularly sensitive spot, you arched your back, your body trembling with pleasure. "You like that, don't you?" he said, his voice a low growl. "You like hearing how much I want you, how much I need you." He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent and demanding.

"You're mine, all mine," he repeated, his words punctuated by each powerful thrust. "No one else can have you like this, only me." You were losing yourself in the pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as he continued to drive you closer to the edge. He could feel you starting to tighten around him, and he knew you were close.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice firm and authoritative. "Let me feel you come apart around me." You obeyed, your body arching off the bed as you reached your climax, waves of pleasure crashing over you. Joshua continued to move, riding out your orgasm and pushing himself closer to his own release. He gritted his teeth, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt himself nearing his own peak.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove himself deeper inside you. "I'm not going to last much longer." With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you and came with a loud groan, his body shaking with the force of his release. He collapsed on top of you, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both lay there, still entwined and breathing heavily. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"You're incredible," he whispered, his voice soft and full of affection. He lifted his head to look at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I think marriage will be good," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Marriage definitely has its perks."

[saeslove]

🕸️ 013 . the silent touch

synopsis when the star football player Michael Kaiser shows up at your window injured, you tend to his wounds and uncover a deeper side to him. as secrets unfold and emotions rise, you find yourself questioning your growing feelings for him. wc 1.8k

as you skimmed through your textbook for the calculus exam you were struggling with, doubts swirled in your mind. you couldn’t shake the unease about inviting a stranger into your house. your study lamp was the only source of light in the dim room.

your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the window.

you glanced over and saw a silhouette of a man outside. hesitant at first, you received a text “i’m here.” it was from kaiser. as soon as you opened the window, a gust of wind rushed in, followed by the sight of a shivering Michael Kaiser.

"did you really climb up a 15-story apartment? you could’ve just come through the front door."

you stepped aside, letting him in as he walked around your room, inspecting your bedroom. “nice room.”

“yeah, it’s nothing special, though.”

his gaze fell on your study table, where papers were scattered everywhere. “oh, what’s this? calculus? you’re struggling with this?” he hid a smirk behind his smile.

“hey! this is the only chapter i need help with, and my exam is soon”

as he stepped closer to the light, his face was illuminated, and for the first time today, you saw his features clearly.

“what’s that on your face?”

his eyes met yours, but before he could respond, you stepped closer, brushing your fingers over his cheek. you felt the cut and bruise.

he quickly pulled away, looking down, hiding behind his hoodie. “it’s nothing. just a cut from football.”

“no, it’s not nothing,” you insisted. “let me help you. i’ll go get it the first aid outside.”

as you carefully tended to his wounds, you couldn’t ignore how close his face was to yours. just as you were finishing up, he winced, and a rush of sympathy just hit you. this bruise seemed to cut deeper than just the surface.

“you know, normal people use the door,” you said, attempting to ease the awkward tension hanging in the air.

“yeah, but then i wouldn’t get to see that look on your face. totally worth it,” he replied with a faint grin.

you opened your mouth to respond but decided against it, letting the words hang in the silence. his eyes, however, never left yours.

“i know what you want to ask,” he said, breaking the quiet.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“you want to know where i got all these bruises,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“i mean, yeah but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine”

“just a rough game, tackles hit harder sometimes. it’s not a big deal.” he shrugs

“you’ve got bruises everywhere, and a broken rib the other day and i’m supposed to believe this is just soccer? what soccer have you been playing?”

he leans back slightly, smirking, “why are you so worked up over this? maybe i should get injured more often then?”

you shot him a look. “don’t even joke about that. do you think i want to keep patching you up every time you get yourself hurt?”

“i didn’t ask you to but maybe you secretly like it”

"yeah sure, i just watching you wince in pain," you teased, smacking his bicep lightly. but the way he flinched made you pause.

your brow furrowed. "wait are you hurt somewhere else?"

"no" he said quickly, but the way his hand instinctively clutched his arm betrayed him.

you shot him a pointed look, and he sighed in defeat. "fine."

slowly, he pulled off his hoodie, revealing a nasty injury on his arm. you breath hitched as you took in the sight—though it wasn’t just the wound that caught your attention.

this was your first time seeing his tattoo up close. the intricate blue rose tattoo on his arm was impossible to ignore, the way it seemed to almost bloom under the light. as you gently cleaned the wound, your fingers brushed against his skin, and your eyes lingered a second too long.

"cool, right?" his voice was softer now, almost playful.

you glanced up at him. "yeah but why a blue rose?"

he hesitated, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "honestly? i don’t really know. i got it after i started playing football. it just felt right."

there was something unspoken in his words, something that made your heart beat a little faster. but before you could press further, a loud knock echoed through the house, snapping the moment like a twig underfoot.

“oh no that’s my dad! you have to hide! and don’t leave this room”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “your dad? is he one of those ‘clean my shotgun while i meet your friends type?”

you glared at him, shoving him toward your closet. “don’t test it. now go!”

“fine, fine relax schatz.” he scrambled to his feet, wincing slightly as he moved. “but if he asks, i came through the door like a normal person.” surrendering his hands in the air.

“just hide!” you hissed, practically shoving him inside. he ducked into the cramped space, grumbling under his breath about how tight it was.

the knock sounded again, louder this time. taking a deep breath, you smoothed your hair and rushed to open the door.

your dad stood there, holding a set of car keys. “hey, i left my keys at home and just wanted to let you know i’m heading out to work again. need anything when i come home?”

you forced a smile, trying to steady your heartbeat. “nope, i’m good! thanks.”

he frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he glanced past you into your room. “are you okay? you seem... jumpy.”

“nope, not at all. actually, i was just doing yoga” you leaned casually against the doorframe, praying he wouldn’t notice the slightly ajar closet door.

“in the dark?” he asked calmly but still suspicious.

“yeah it’s just a girls thing hehe”

after a long moment, he shrugged. “alright. i’ll be back tomorrow morning, love you.”

as soon as the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. turning back to the closet, you yanked the door open.

“coast is clear”

he was sitting on the floor of your closet, holding one of your old basketball trophies. “didn’t know you played. pretty impressive.”

you grabbed the trophy from him, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. “just a past time hobby.”

you sat beside him despite the small space, the silence between you heavy but not unwelcome. for a moment, it was just the two of you, the closeness offering a strange sort of comfort.

“you have a nice dad,” he said softly, breaking the quiet.

“thank you,” you replied, glancing at him. “he works really hard, and i try my best to make him proud.”

he hummed in acknowledgment, leaning his head back against the wall. his gaze seemed far away, as if the room had disappeared around him. “my dad used to beat me up for every little thing i did, especially when we didn’t have any food.”

he words hit like a brick, cutting through the air with quiet devastation. your breath caught, and you turned to him, studying the way his expression stayed oddly calm, like he’d come to terms with it long ago or maybe just buried it deep.

“that’s awful i’m so sorry,” you whispered, unsure if anything you said could even begin to be enough.

je shrugged, offering a faint, bitter smile. “it was what it was. i guess some people aren’t meant to be dads.”

you hesitated, the weight of his words sinking into you. “but you turned out different. you’re not like him.”

he finally looked at you, his eyes softer now, as if your words had reached a part of him he didn’t let people see. “i try” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible.

“your calculus, let me help you with it” he whispered.

you blinked at the sudden shift in conversation, confusion written all over your face. “my calculus? are you seriously using my math homework as a distraction right now?”

“yeah as a reward for patching me up, i’ll help you. you can’t say no because i’m not leaving here until you understand derivatives.”

he sat up, and walked over to your the notes you spread out on the table.

in the past hour he has taught you, you catch yourself watching him more than your notes. the way his brows furrow in concentration, the way his voice softens when he's explaining something challenging.

"see? it’s not that hard," he says, leaning back and grinning.

shaking your head. "yeah, easy for you to say. you ace everything without trying."

"that’s not true," he counters, his tone lighter now. "i’ve got a lot going on, just like you."

you hesitate, noticing the way his grin fades slightly as he speaks. for a brief moment, his vulnerability peeks through again, and it stirs something unfamiliar in your chest.

"you know you’re not what i expected” you say without thinking.

he looks at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "what did you expect?"

you shrug, trying to play it off, trying to not get on his nerves “i don’t know. some overconfident star athlete who only cares about himself. but! you’re different."

he smirks, “glad to know i’m not a total cliché."

you find your heart beating faster, your mind racing with the realisation that maybe this isn’t just some casual friendship.

"why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, breaking the moment.

you blink, heat rushing to your cheeks. "looking at you like what”

he smirks, leaning closer. there it was, undenying gaze— intense, unflinching, and impossible to look away from. It was as though he could see right through you. you swallow hard, unaware of how close he is.

"maybe i should go," he says, but there’s hesitation in his voice.

and for the first time, you find yourself not wanting him to leave.

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : my fever went down so i decided to just post this, hope u enjoy & thank you for waiting!

i know kaiser didn’t really go to school but i feel like if he did then he would’ve been smart at everything…

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @sof888a @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @bbladie @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy [tell me if i missed out anyone’s name]

comments & reblogs appreciated!

@ saeslove 2025 do not plagiarize, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

[mommyownsmee]

A LETTER TO MY SUBMISSIVE

You are mine. Completely, utterly mine. That truth is carved into the very essence of you, woven into every breath, every heartbeat, every tremor that courses through you when you hear my voice. You belong to me—not just in the ways that are visible to the world, but in the places no one else dares to touch. Your surrender is not something I take lightly; it is sacred, raw, unfiltered, a gift I will always treasure and fiercely protect. No one else could ever deserve this version of you. No one else could even begin to understand the beauty of your submission.

You don’t just crave me; you need me. It’s in the way your body aches when I am not near, the way your thoughts spiral without my guidance, the way your soul feels untethered until I ground you again. You thrive under my control, and without it, you would simply unravel, lost and adrift. You are whole only when you are mine, and I love that you know this as deeply as I do.

I have memorized every part of you—every sound you make, every quiver of your skin, every fragile gasp that escapes your lips when my hands claim you. You don’t realize how breathtaking you are when you give yourself over to me so completely. When you strip yourself bare, not just of your clothes but of your walls, your fears, your resistance, and offer everything you are at my feet, I see you in a way no one else ever could. You are perfection, and I hold that perfection in the palm of my hand like the most fragile and priceless treasure.

I can’t stop thinking of you, trembling and exposed under my gaze. I see you as you are meant to be: vulnerable, pliant, aching to please. Picture my hands gripping your hips, my nails trailing down your spine, leaving marks that are mine alone to see. Picture me pinning you down, your body so still, so obedient, waiting for my next command. You are stunning when you let go, when you surrender everything except your need to belong to me.

When I tell you to open yourself wider, I see the effort it takes, the way you push past the limits of your own hesitation to obey me. When I tell you to edge yourself, to stop when you’re so close to falling over the edge, the desperation in your voice as you beg for more ignites something primal in me. You are so greedy, so eager to hear me call you my good girl, to feel the weight of my approval. Do you know how much I adore that hunger in you? Watching the way your body betrays you, the way it pleads for me even before your words catch up?

Your submission is not just an action; it’s a symphony. Every movement is a note, every sound a melody that belongs to me alone. When you fall to your knees for me, the world tilts into place, and I feel whole. You are mine to mold, to shape, to break and rebuild in the ways I choose. Every time you obey, I see how beautifully I’ve ruined you for anyone else. You are so strong in the way you let me take you apart, and so achingly weak when you’re without my control. That paradox makes you irresistible, my sweetest possession.

I own you. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence—they are mine to command. Every time you touch yourself, it is my name that floods your mind. Every time you come, it is because I have allowed it, because I have deemed you worthy of the release you crave. You belong to me in ways no one else could even dream of. Your surrender is not just something you offer; it is the foundation of who you are. You were made for this, made for me.

When I tell you, "You’re mine," it is not a fantasy or a game. It is truth. Absolute, unshakable truth. Every inch of your skin is mine to claim, to mark, to worship. I have memorized the way your body reacts—the arch of your hips, the hitch of your breath, the way your lips part when my voice dips low. You are written into me, as much as I am into you. I know you. I own you. And I know you would never want it any other way.

You are my treasure, my masterpiece, my prize. Every sigh, every moan, every desperate plea—they are mine to orchestrate. You belong to me, body and soul, and I will never share you with anyone. Your submission is not just something you give me—it is something you are. The core of you, the essence of everything I adore and everything I demand.

Now, open yourself to me. Here. Now. Let me remind you, as I always will, of who you are—of who you’ll always belong to.

I love you. You‘re my everything. My soulmate. The part of me that I adore the most.

[Copyright by me.]