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hwajin · 10 months ago

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☆.° — breathe me | hhj

genre: smut

pairing: nerd!hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 3k

warnings/ content: ice play, lots of fingering

this is my fic for @whatudowhennooneseesyou's kinktober 2024; ice play with hyunjin! also an unofficial part 2 for my nerd hyune fic 'study me' hehe <3 hope you enjoy, check out the other works too!! (pst @hyunverse)

It's been a while — three months, give or take — since you and Hyunjin had started going out; officially, and openly. You remember the looks on peoples' faces, slightly irritated, perplexed, when you and him would enter the classroom, hand in hand, sitting down next to each other and giggling shyly about something only you two understood. The group project three months back — which you were grateful for every passing day for bringing you closer to him — had been long over; so why were you hanging out with the loner, the unnamed loser, the nerd sitting in the first row by himself every day anew? You had found a certain satisfaction in those looks; something about them had made you proud, made you feel lucky. As though you’d understood something no one else had.

By now, people were used to the pair of you; seeing you together in the campus cafeteria, accompanied by some of your friends and a heavy blush on Hyunjin's cheeks wasn't as bizarre anymore; hearing your quiet chatter echoing from the first row was normal, almost — except it didn't occur all too often, and far too seldom for your liking. Yes, Hyunjin became your boyfriend over the course of a couple weeks, and while your studies and academic affections suffered beneath that, his didn't a bit; surprisingly.

"How are you acing every class!?", you attack him one evening. He had scored 99 out of a hundred possible points on a Statistics test — your one and only mutual class —; you had barely gotten a 49.

"Don't tell me you're actually getting anything done when we study together?"

You had sat in the library, and your too loud voice had flustered him, so he had responded even quiter than usual; and not without a hint of judgement:

"Of course I am." Brows furrowed, genuine question in the way he'd looked at you. Then, after a moment, he had cocked his head, in near fearful realization; mouth agape, eyes big behind his nerdy glasses. "Wait... you wanna tell me you're... not actually studying on- on our study dates?" The last words had sounded from his mouth shyly, almost bashful. You had chuckled internally at that, though had given him a sultry look; playful, a wink accompanying your gesture.

"No, I'm way too distracted by how good you look studying that I can't get anything done myself."

Another thing that hasn't changed over the last three months — Hyunjin has seemingly not gotten used to your flirtations. To any flirtations, any intimacy at all. Every time you touched him, as innocent a touch as it was, every time you gave his lips as little as a peck he froze, utterly clueless in his own body, scarlet in the face and down the neck. It was adorable. A part of you hoped he never would get used to it; that he would always stay the bashful, quirky man you got to know him as. That he would always drown in red when you shot him a playful look, fire behind your eyes and igniting Hyunjin, fixing his glasses with a quick motion, clearing his throat and diverting his eyes, only to notice you're still staring when he looks for you again. You liked initiating things, liked the way he still shied from as much as kissing you, reaching out to hold your hand. That when he did — reach out, touch the back of your hand with his own, slowly entangling your fingers and acting unknowing all the while — it wasn't without fluster, wasn't without you giggling about him because his crimson neck and his blown pupils were so ironic, considering you'd been entangled in bed together two hours ago, naked and pressed against each other.

Another thing, undeniably, you had loved about the past months; the sex. Sounding perverted upon admission, though you had to; because it'd been better than you had anticipated. Hyunjin was shy, and he'd only been learning to voice his own wishes and desires fairly recently; but he was eager. Eager to please you, eager to do anything you asked him to, to learn. And he was more open than you thought, too, more experimental; there was barely a thing he denied, even if never without shyness, but always saying yes with a face red as crimson.

And he'd said yes this time as well.

You were sprawled out on the bed, in the nude, limbs shivering and skin pearly, covered in a million tiny bumps. It was strange, the contrast to the heat Hyunjin emitted; fires ignited beneath your skin but you were cold, so cold to the touch against the warm air of the room. Yet, you were glowing. You were burning and freezing to death at the very same time.

Hyunjin was holding the little, melted down ice cube he's prepared the day prior against your skin. You had brewed an ice coffee for the pair of you, as innocent a date as ever, Hyunjin talking your ears off with a new computer he's acquired, and how setting it up was — apparently — the most fun he's had in a while. You liked listening to him, could never grow tired of his hobbies you learned to love so dearly, viewed as so adorably quirky; but you also couldn't have suppressed the suggestive remark you'd made:

"Oh... really?", puppy eyes while you’d turned to face him slowly, and he had sat by the kitchen counter perplexed, nodding and going on with his demonstration of his new set up. You had stepped closer to him, ice cube mold in hands. "Even more fun than... we had yesterday?" You had eye-fucked him by now, eyes big and dear-like, blinking and playing with a lose strand of his hair; it had gotten so long over the past months, and you could never keep your hands from it.

Hyunjin had gulped, visibly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did, and a feeling of heat had lain as a blanket in your lower tummy. You had seen the memories of last night flash before his eye in a second, and a familiar blush had lain over his pearly skin. He hadn't, and the faint outline of his developing erection had been proof.

"I can remind you, in case you did."

A futile promise; not only because he hadn't forgotten, but because you would remind him nevertheless.

Hyunjin's eyes had hushed to the ice cubes beside your hands on the counter, and upon the deepening of his blush your eyes had started glistening. That was the thing about your boyfriend; he knew what he wanted. He knew exactly, only too shy to admit to it, too ashamed to speak the words out loud. He had never said no to a proposal you've made, because he'd wanted it as bad as you did — more so, maybe. You'd smirked, following his eyed and then locking them again.

"You wanna try these...", you had barely whispered, "...on me?" Head cocked and eyes questioning. Hyunjin had gulped again; then he had nodded.

Fast forward half an hour, you were shivering against the cold of the ice cube. Hyunjin was clumsy with it, utterly helpless; he didn't quite know what to do with the little bit of frozen water, where to touch you with it, what to do. After the third one has melted without much an outcome, Hyunjin looking both distressed and apologetic, you finally took matters into your own hands with a giggle.

"Fuck, I'm sorry; I have no idea what I'm doing." Hyunjin sounded frustrated, and you entangled your fingers in his locks, messy and raven around his face. His glasses were sliding down continuously, and he had grown tired of fixing them; they were forgotten, sitting almost at the tip of his nose. You slid them up, looking down at him where he was positioned between your bare legs, and he grew bashful; he always did when you fixed his glasses for him. He held you, big hands on your waist, so casual but your skin burned beneath every touch.

"Calm down, babe.", you smiled at him, and his brows furrowed closer together.

"Should I... help you? Tell you what to do?"

He had laughed then, thankful relief, had nodded and had kissed your lower tummy; you loved when he wasn't shy to show banal affection, when his lips and hands felt a home on your body.

"Take an ice cube in your mouth.", you commanded, voice silk and honey. Hyunjin blinked up at you twice; then he obliged, momentarily. Almost with no hesitation; he was slave to every of your word, your wish his very own. He trusted you to take the lead, and his plump, scarlet lips wrapped around the frozen bit of water, securing it further with his teeth; and he shivered at the coldness of it. You hissed in a breath at that; you needed to remember using the ice on him, at some point; he would look heavenly flustered and red and shivering.

Hyunjin looked at you, expectedly, waiting for your next word. He wouldn't do anything but.

Your fingers played with his hair, and you watched his glasses slide down his nose. He scrunched it, likely unaware of the little movement; but your breath hitched, and you bit your lip.

"Kiss my body with it."

He did. He lowered his head to be level with your bare stomach, eyes never leaving your own. He watched you intently, if waiting for the next command or simply not wanting to miss every breathy sigh you let out, every shaky moan you weren't sure.

The ice touched your hot, burning skin. You were surprised it didn't melt right away; Hyunjin's breath was even hotter than you, and the contrast of it — his warm huffs of air and the freezing cube — sent a electrifying shiver down your spine and right to your core, tickling there until you squirmed to ease the feeling off. Hyunjin's eyes held surprise; then he started making out with your body as if it was your lips he was kissing, and as if the ice had disappeared. He played with it, clumsy and more passion than plan, and you could tell he liked the filth, the lack of sense. He gave the flesh of your hips open mouthed kisses, hot and wet and cold, he let the cube of ice disappear in his mouth to bite down on your skin before his tongue fiddled with the shrinking block again to let it drop on you, unexpectedly, cold and whine-inducing. He groaned too when you let the sound rip through your throat, enjoying the way you enjoyed it.

The ice cube melted eventually. Hyunjin kissed your body some more without it, losing himself, lips and hands unable to let go of you. He did so until you whined out when he wrapped his lips around one of your breasts, hot spit coating your nipple, his cold, delicate fingers playing with the other one. He looked up at you then, knowing and questioning all the same, and you whispered a single word, enough to make him hurry putting the second ice cube between his teeth.

"More."

You shook your head, though, when Hyunjin was about to come back to his previous ministrations. You held his arm; you had gotten so sensitive so suddenly, feeling like slipping away if you didn't grab onto something.

"Let it drop here.", you said, pointing to the core of your chest. He did as you commanded, and searching for your next wish in the depths of your eyes.

"Move it down my body."

He did, straight down, aiming for your belly button, and you shook your head again.

"No, no, slowly. Here first.", you whispered, wetting your fingers in the cold trail of water the cube left, and circling one of your nipples with it. Hyunjin blushed upon that, suddenly. Torn out of the haze from before he as though found his way back to reality, always bashful when you played with yourself in front of him. He watched you close your eyes at the pleasure you brought yourself, the way you hummed out quietly before looking at him again. And he obliged; he let the small cube travel over both your breasts, long and slow, until the ice had almost fully dissipated when he reached your belly button.

"Another one.", you hushed, and he understood. He let an ice cube drop just over your belly button, where he had stopped prior, and continued his journey further down; he kissed your body to elicit sounds of pleasure from you, breathy and hushed and needy whenever his hot tongue danced across trails of cold water, when it circled a nipple; when the melting cube of ice touched your core, finally. Your back arched into him; and after an approval look and a nod of yours Hyunjin fiddled — clumsily — to lay the cold against your clit. It wasn't sudden and yet you jumped, yelped in your place, grabbed onto Hyunjin, digging your nails into the bare skin of his arms. He hissed at that; he hadn't yet admitted to it, but he enjoyed the faint sting of pain, you were sure.

He kept fingering you slowly with the remnants of the ice cube. It wasn't much by any means, almost melted entirely, your wet heat enough to make it, but the sensation remained. You were sensitive, worked up, and Hyunjin above your body so obedient, watching your every move to accord his ministrations to them, that you felt your high sneak up on you, quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost there, almost palpable; but it needed more.

And he felt it. He had eased into it, into the night and into you, and he became more courageous — he grabbed for another ice cube without you telling him to, placed it on your pelvic bone to warm it up, just a little. He kissed you then; impulsively, passionately, moving the cube against your body, cold thumb of his circling your clit. Slowly, not necessarily with a goal, just because; slow circles, barely doing anything, but you still jerked in your place, against him and then into the mattress. And you kissed him back, grabbed the back of his nape, the very ends of his hair, tousled and messy and warm against the cold; and he inserted the freezed water with two of his fingers, into your hot wetness, making it cold and wetter, so suddenly sensitive that you groaned out deeply into his mouth. He ate up the sound, returned it with the same fervour, curled the ice cube up and removed it again, leaving you empty and shivering, aching for more. For again. You whispered the word against Hyunjin's bruised lips, deep red and bitten, and he obeyed; he inserted two fingers and the ice cube into you, curling his digits and pushing the cold deeper. Everything around you turned white, and silent. You saw nothing but him, heard nothing but Hyunjin's staggered, deep breaths, felt nothing but bliss, purified in the way he granted it to you; unapologetic, readily, as if was everything he was born for.

You squirmed against his body, steady and warm above your own. You could feel his erection against your leg, could feel he was moving and squirming too, to remove friction, though it wasn't his primary goal. He moved thoughtlessly, out of an instinct; his focus, though, lay on you. He didn't dare remove his eyes from you, repeatedly fixing his glasses to not miss a second of the changing expressions on your face, or your shivering body, your pearl-covered skin, the way your flesh broke waves with every move you made, with every hard breath you inhaled, exhaled. And he went deeper, bit your neck harder, held your hips closer, kissed you faster; and you groaned louder, squirmed heavier, until finally you shook, body convulsing and waves of electricity running through your body, wetness gushing down Hyunjin's fingers and staining the mattress. Your chest heaved, your warmth having melted down the ice cube to mere cold water, and Hyunjin watched in awe; he hadn't yet grown used to the sight of you coming, especially for him. The way he could see your soul leaving your body and returning again, the way your eyes crossed before rolling into the back of your head, how you held onto him, how your toes curled and the hairs on your body stiffened; he would never get enough of it. He could watch it - watch you - over and over again, shaking and coming against him, your hot breath igniting fires on his skin.

"Fuck.", you breathed out, tearing Hyunjin out of his thoughts. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and only then Hyunjin noticed he hadn't yet stopped fingering you, slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm though overstimulating now, surely. He leaned down, kissed your neck, slowly removed his fingers, eliciting a sweet sigh from you. He did then something which could only be accounted to his incredible neediness; nothing unfamiliar whenever he waited his turn, whenever he prioritised your satisfaction over his own. He sat back on his heels, looked down on your shivering, sweaty body; and he licked his slick fingers clean of you, eyes locked with yours intently. His tongue swirled around his digits, slurping noises filling the room. His ears turned red and the blush crept down his neck, upon the filthy action, and upon your sweetness against his tongue, but he didn't stop; Hyunjin put on a show for you, and he loved to see the effort pay off - your eyes deepened with a sense of desire, dark and seductive and alluring, and a smirk played around your lips; Hyunjin knew you loved when he wasn't shy to show his lust. Only when you grabbed him by his collar, only when you tugged at the hem of his shirt and your legs wrapped around his torso, toes playing with the waistband of his pants he knew the night wasn't over; and wouldn't be for long.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @ppiri-bahng @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @junebug032 @noellllslut @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @astraystayyh

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

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so i know i always say that rafe is strictly a girl dad. well, he is. but sometimes i like to humour myself with the universe where he’s the father to the sweetest little boy ever.

the universe would be ironic like that. rafe foolishly knocked you up when he was 22 — the boy still having alot to learn. he was still walking around with that pistol tucked into his waistband, fighting pogues, mouthing off and going on coke rants. you had been terrified, wondering what kind of a father rafe was going to be — even when he promised time and time again, “i’m — i’m getting my shit together alright? i can, hey — we can do this? okay?” with sweat gathered at his hairline and tears in his eyes. thus, when the universe decided to play the hilarious prank which was having the doctor tell you ‘its a boy!’, your first thought was ‘shit.’

because he was bound to be just like rafe, right?

you had seemingly prophetic visions, a spoiled little brat — just like his father was, thundering around in a brightly coloured ralph lauren polo from the baby range, demanding the teet when he saw fit. a girl would have been fine — you’d seen wheezie grow up around rafe and turn out totally fine (aside from the likely trauma.) but a boy? what did rafe cameron know about raising a boy? was your son next up to become a drug slinging, pogue hating, maniac? (with no offence to rafe of course, you were unfortunately very much in love with him but contrary to popular belief that did not disrupt your common sense.)

rafe was over the moon about you being pregnant with a boy too, which did little to comfort you.

the anxiety subsided the second that baby was out of you, his sticky, slimy little body placed onto your chest with rafe crowding your space — his bravado dropped for a second to reveal a childlike awe. his own baby. you could tell it was only now that things became very real for rafe. his eyes well up, covering his shaky grin with an even shakier hand, saying stuff like “shit, oh uh nah i probably shouldn’t cuss infront of the baby anymore right? yeah… my god, you did it baby. brought me my boy. should be so god damn proud.” he croons as his hands dig affectionately into your sore shoulders, smearing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “ahh, aha — what the hell kinda man am i cryin’ at this huh? shit.” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes but you’re not listening. you’re staring at your perfect boy.

he grows into something perfectly reminiscent of both you and rafe’s features, all whilst smushed into the cutest baby you’ve ever seen. you were aware every parent said that about their child, but no — you were certain. he was pampers commercial level cute. ‘top ten cutest babies’ buzzfeed article level cute. sarah would often hold him to her chest and something would be healed as she’d whisper “i can’t believe you came from my brother.” into his wispy hair. he was a true blessing.

with big doe eyes that took up half his face and an appearance that somehow replicated a baby lamb that had been turned into a human on the basis of a magical spell — you had long forgotten about your worries regarding having a boy.

a few years down the line and not much has changed. your baby boy is three years old, chubby fists clutching his empty plastic lightening mcqueen plate as he toddles out onto the porch where rafe sits spread out opposite barry, sipping on a can of beer in the early evening. your son is distracted by a decorative plant, and the two men pay him no mind as they continue talk.

“but — but that’s the thing, right, barry? i dont do that shit anymore and… and i sure as hell am not looking to start again.”

“man i get that rafe you a father now, all serious and shit but think about the money. you thinkin’ with your husband head and not with your cameron head. your daddy was a piece of shit but he had that business mindset that you gotta adopt, bro.”

rafe’s expression flattens, finishing his can before leaning forward onto his elbows. “well uh, newsflash — i don’t wanna be anything like my dad. now if we’re done here…” rafes attention is caught by the mini him waddling into view, holding his plate infront of him.

“more please?” comes the sweetest voice in the world, blinking up at the man he viewed as his entire universe, much like you at times.

“finished your icecream already huh? where’s your mom?” he cranes round, but doesn’t bother searching much further when he hears the padding of your footsteps.

“aye buddy, you know we was just talkin’ about you.” barry leans forward with a smarmy grin and your son gets shy, lifting his shoulders practically to his ears and looking down, glueing himself to rafes leg.

“conversations done, actually.” rafe reminds him, lifting the boy to sit on his hip as he hoists himself to stand. as he does so, you appear in the doorway to the patio— sundress clad belly swollen with another baby.

“rafe could you bring him in? it’s too hot out there for him without his hat.” you furrow your eyebrows, deciding to ignore barry’s presence all together, which of course doesn’t stop him from conversing.

“shit, i ain’t seen you in a while mama. he got you again? you two stay busy, huh?” rafes oldest ‘friend’ chuckles, gold tooth glinting in the sun light, and like your only child — you shy away, sending rafe a parting glance that said ‘just hurry up and rid of him.’

rafe adjusts the baby boy on his hip, now staring down at barry.

“talk to my girl again n’i’ll bring out the old me alright, you don’t want that. go do somethin’ barry, i don’t care what it is just get off my goddamn property yeah?” rafe drawls tiredly, crushing the can in his hand and dropping it carelessly into the wastebin beside barry before heading inside, your son turning to stare sweetly at the dark haired man over his dads shoulder, offering a sticky, wide fingered salute in parting.

atleast rafe was still his usual charming self, son or not.

#dad!rafe #rafe cameron prompt #boydad!rafe

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vasito-de-leche · 1 month ago

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;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS ABBY - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Abby (Abs Saja) in a romantic relationship.

YOUUUU KNOW ITTTTT OF COURSE THIS IS MY BIAAAAAS. I love getting into new things because I have so many ideas so many things to overthink and analyze about new blorbo, ougghhhh

since all the other Saja Boys that aren't Jinu get minimal screentime, it's pretty much free real estate for headcanons. dont look at me, i love making demon guys a little feral, as a treat for us monster freaks

When it comes to the Saja Boys and the concept of dating, I do think that if their idol careers lasted more than two songs released back to back, they would pull off some publicity stunts involving fake dating and so on--think of the Miromabby or Zoeystery shenanigans from the movie. Because of their nature as demons, I can't see them choosing to date someone so casually.

In my previous post with general headcanons for the entire group, I mentioned how the other four aside from Jinu might also have ulterior motives to help him and join the band, which adds to the pile of reasons they wouldn't lead any conventional lives on the surface, let alone find a partner.

But that's not to say that they're entirely closed off to the possibility of dating. There's just a lot to navigate first. Each has their own baggage to deal with.

When it comes to pretending to date someone as a publicity stunt, it's safe to say they're all good at it; it's part of the game, after all. They're very good at pretending to be a Kpop boyband already. But Abby specifically strikes me as one of the very few who might end up reconsidering his feelings on the matter, or at the very least, come to genuinely enjoy the illusion of a relationship. Jinu is too good at playing the game, only to pull the rug from under his partner's feet (RIP Rumi), Romance has (ironically) too many layers and too much baggage involving relationships to truly commit, and then Mystery and Baby are much too distant or guarded to even consider people out of the group.

While Romance and Abby have been shown to have some interest in Mira, I do like to think there is an important difference between the two of them when it comes to love--Romance plays the romantic and heartfelt lovestruck role as his namesake implies, but it is all part of an aesthetic and a fleeting hobby he indulges in. It's all fun and games, simply because he never had the intention of committing in the first place, a fun irony in which the embodiment of romance cannot really find love.

On the other hand, Abby lives by much more simpler rules: if it feels good, why stop or avoid it?

It's easy to portray him as a himbo, or someone who struggles to be taken seriously specifically because of how reductive his role in the boyband may be (only offering good looks and muscles, all brawn and no brain, etc) but I like to overthink things, and instead portray him as someone who is just direct when it comes about the things he wants or likes. While others take extra steps to get what they want, or pull the most insane mental gymnastics to justify their actions, Abby's approach is always the fastest and most straightforward.

Jinu will create a boyband to rival Huntrix and then almost fall in love with their leader only to betray her in the end and get his wish instead of going to therapy, but Abby? If he wanted to get his memories erased, he'd just give himself a concussion every so often or seek a spell that could do that. Easy.

I like to think this also plays into how he became a demon, heeding Gwi-ma's call in those extreme and rare occasions he couldn't just do as he pleased or get his way through sheer determination or perseverance, until it became the norm rather than the exception, and thus his shame is related to that powerlessness and dependence on the power Gwi-ma offers.

But to tie it back to relationships, this is all a lot of text to say that Abby would be the perfect Saja to get into a classic fake dating relationship 130k words slowburn fanfic scenario with, the type in which the lines between fake and real get blurry really fast. His demonic traits or emotional baggage don't keep him from forming meaningful relationships like others, but I do think that decades (maybe even centuries like Jinu) of living as a demon have definitely altered all of the Saja Boys' perception on how to properly interact with others.

When Abby catches feelings, he remains just as flirty, fun, silly and high energy, but there is a wild edge to his words that spells out trouble--not necessarily in any negative way, more so like the feeling of knowing you're being roped into shenanigans that none of your friends would agree with, the promise of fun danger, all while knowing you're in safe hands because the man leading you into the lion's den won't let anything happen to you.

I don't think he puts you in danger on purpose or with malicious intent, that's something Mystery or Baby would do. In Abby's case it's more like he gets caught up on these positive feelings you bring him that he ... forgets he's meant to put up a perfect boyband front. That's it. He gets swept up in the moment so easily, he just forgets he's in the human world.

His smiles are sharper, with pointy fangs you swear you have never seen him have. His hugs are a bit more suffocating, his grip on you when he leads you around town is somewhat erratic and manic, and you swear you can hear a slight distortion in his laugh, as if his voice wasn't human at all. He may forget that you need to sleep and show up at ungodly hours, looking frenzied and excited to take you out for a spin. Contrary to popular belief, no, he does not growl or get into fights with anyone who is remotely interested in you--but he DOES ask you directly if you'd like him to fight whoever tries to hit on you, literally asks if you'd be into that sort of thing of seeing him beat up others for your attention. He can do it. Humans are much more weaker. Just give him the sign. Do you want to see him beat up demons instead? Sure. He can do that too. He will look very good and flex his arms while doing it, just for you.

This is basically Abby in his honeymoon era--a demon trying to remember how to balance demonic instincts and habits built up over centuries against what he vaguely remembers as the conventional way to court someone. If you mix this with the fact that demons like the Saja Boys are basically doomed to relive their worst memories and feelings for all eternity as Gwi-ma's thralls, then you might understand why Abby gets a little too drunk on the butterflies and good feelings you awaken in him.

I think he's also the least troubled by the idea of his crush or partner finding out he's a demon. Surely, if you like hanging out with him, something so small shouldn't be a problem, right? It's not a problem for him, after all. You're absolutely cooked if he finds out you're into the demon aspect, though--Abby will be absolutely shameless, using this to his advantage whenever he wants to convince you indulge him or do whatever he wants. Abby may not have Baby's puppy eyes, but he keeps track of all the things you like about him, just in case.

When it comes to telling you about his past before becoming a demon, there might be some reluctance out of shame. The rest of the Saja Boys are allowed to know since they're all pretty much on the same boat as him, but what about you? What if you decide he's not the one for you based on something that happened so long ago? I can see Abby blurting out the events that led him to become a demon in the heat of the moment, during an argument or something, if only as a way to get you to stop arguing with him.

On a less intense note, I do agree that he's the clingiest Saja Boy, at least physically; Abby has to have a hand on you at all times, no matter how. Either with an arm around you, leaning on your shoulder or just fully leaning his entire weight on you, sliding his hand in the back pocket of your pants while you walk, resting his chin on the top of your head, etc.

This guy does not care about personal space. Or rather, he cares about getting rid of it altogether. Most likely to kabedon you, at first for fun to see your reaction, and once he settles into the relationship as a way to get a moment of your undivided attention whenever he feels like. He makes zero attempts at hiding your relationship once he's caught genuine feelings, and even gloats to his band members about it.

Most likely to make you sit on his lap even if there's other seats available because he thinks it's extremely endearing. Most likely to give you his clothes to wear, except he wears extra small shirts to emphasize his muscles, so he doesn't get to enjoy the view of his partner in an oversized shirt or sweater because he might as well be wearing crop tops at this point. This is easily remedied by just buying an extra large pair, so you can at least have matching outfits.

One thing that will never change regardless of the stage of your relationship with Abby is the insane amount of shirtless selfies he sends you throughout the day. You guys could spend 20 years married and he'd still manage to sneak in a shirtless bathroom selfie.

There's so fucking many. You can't even pull the "When he's copying your snaps so you pull this move" meme because he already sends you dozens of pictures of him flexing his biceps. These range from tasteful shirtless pictures as a "pick me up" for you, to genuine fun selfies of him going about his day but he somehow manages to always have his shirt open, to extreme levels of fuckboy vibes manufactured to deal extra damage to any fans in the vicinity.

I also like the dumb idea that, at some point, you just start playing tic tac toe with his abs whenever you receive a picture of them, and he thinks it's so fucking funny he always plays along. So your camera roll is 50 selfies and 20 versions of the same selfie of his abs because you keep drawing and playing tic tac toe on them with him. While others think his focus on his looks might be an indicator of low self-esteem or compensation for any other insecurities, Abby is actually rather confident. He thinks it's hilarious if you draw funny smiley faces on any pictures of his abs, or joke about how conceited he seem to be.

Another fun headcanon I have is that he's the lead dancer, and thus tries to get you to dance some of the Saja Boys choreographies from time to time, since he came up with them himself. The fans love to see these videos of you two practicing Soda Pop and trying to mess each other's rhythm up for fun.

#kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters saja boys #saja boys #abby #posts that i write at the speed of light so i can get these boys out of my brain #i need to put these thoughts down on a post and BE FREE #SO I CAN MOVE ONTO PROPER FICS #THE GRIP THIS MOVIE HAS ON ME THEYRE LIKE 1010 NSR ALL OVER AGAIN GUYS

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aurumalatus · 10 days ago

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𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟗]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, no terrible violent warnings for this chapter if you can believe it lol

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. the post timeskip beginning of part 2 of turnfire :) from now on, things will take place more or less around the time of the archon quest, so likely some spoilers for that if you care. reblogs/interactions highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗗

The next time you meet Kinich, you feel him before you see him.

Standing in the Stadium of Sacred Flame and looking up at the Pilgrimage’s participant list has a wave of nostalgia settling in your chest, rocking against your ribcage. It’s been so long since you’ve seen his name that the letters no longer look familiar—you used to know them like your own heartbeat, like the lines of his smile that you’d sketched out in your journal.

That was years ago, though.

Hearing it is a different story. Ironically, his name seems to be the one you hear the most these days. Countless strangers have mentioned him to you, mostly after you disclose your own affiliation with the Scions of the Canopy. It seems he’s made quite a name for himself, Ajaw included.

“Ah, that’s where Kinich is from, right? Dependable guy, that one. Ajaw, on the other hand…”

The great thing about strangers is that they are decidedly unfamiliar. That way, they don’t recognize the shallowness of your smile at the mention of his name.

Deep down, you’ve always sought out news about him despite your best intentions. Sometimes, it was nearly impossible to avoid anyway, like in the times he won the Pilgrimage and was sent to the Nightwarden Wars.

During those times, sleep became an impossible ideal. You did whatever you could to distract yourself—taking on more work, traveling to places you’ve never been. You’d even gone back to visit the Scions of the Canopy.

It had been nice, at first. Familiar. Then, it became too familiar, and all you could think about was Kinich in the Night Kingdom.

Chief Wayna had a pitying look in his eyes as he embraced you.

Don’t worry, his hug seemed to say. He’ll come back.

And he did. Kinich always did, and you always waited for the news with bated breath, hands clasped together and held to your lips.

It never got easier, though.

Even now, staring up at his name written in black ink makes your stomach turn. Because tomorrow is never guaranteed, not for those sent to the Wars. You’ve seen it too many times. And sure, it’s an honor, but you think about Kinich—Kinich and Ajaw—and ice spreads through your veins.

It’s your first time coming to see the tournament in-person. And you already expected it, but it’s so much more sobering than hearing about it through the grapevine. Everything feels so much more real with the deafening crowds forming in the Stadium.

Absorbed in your thoughts, you realize that others are also gathering to look at the participant list, eyes shining and whooping yells of encouragement being exchanged between friends. It brings a smile to your lips, the happiness that emanates from each of the warriors.

The crowd grows thicker, but you’ve already seen what you came here to see. You’re just about to turn on your heel when—

You feel it.

A flutter skims down your skin, running down your arms and up your neck—you shiver at the sensation.

And somehow, your heart just knows.

“Wow, it looks like there’s more than usual!”

“I don’t think so. Seems to be the usual number.”

That voice.

Your body reacts before your mind does. A thickening lump settles in your throat, pulling your tongue taut. It doesn’t matter; you don’t think you could find the words anyway.

You’d imagined this moment happening thousands of different ways across the years. Sometimes, you would lock eyes across a crowded room. Sometimes, you would bump shoulders in a crowd. And despite having clearly visualized this experience, it takes a slow buildup of courage to force you to face him.

Everything seems to slow as you turn, and the first glance has you sucking in a breath.

The grappling hook hanging from his waist. A Dendro Vision hanging from his pants.

Dark hair braided back, just the way you taught him.

A familiar checkered headband. You would recognize your own work anywhere.

Shards of you are drawn across every inch of him, somehow.

“Kin,” you breathe, in utter shock. He looks equally as affected, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost.

(In a way, maybe he has.)

He’s taller than you remember, broader around the shoulders, his cheeks smoothed down with the loss of baby fat. His hair is longer, curling at the nape of his neck. He looks more like a man, and less like the boy you once knew.

But it’s still Kinich, an intimate weight sitting in his stare. Mistaking him for anyone else would be impossible, at least for you.

For you, the pressure of his presence is unmistakeable, insurmountable.

You follow his gaze as it flits over you—looking you up and down, still surprised, and then softening as it reaches your face.

His lips part just barely, and he’s searching for the words when—

“Kin?”

There’s a girl with him, you realize after a delay, regarding you with a similar wide-eyed stare. Based on her clothing, you’d say she’s likely a member of the People of the Springs. She’s cute, too.

You don’t know why that fact bothers you so much.

She tilts her head at you inquisitively, still turning the nickname over in her mind, then glances at Kinich.

“Do you two know each other?”

He’s still shell-shocked, so still that you aren’t sure if he’s even breathing. But the girl’s question seems to jolt him out of his stupor, a faint pink flooding his cheeks as he coughs.

“We’re from the same tribe, yeah.”

Your smile falters.

If you’d eaten that morning, you might’ve vomited at your feet right then and there. Ice-cold disappointment unfurls in your chest, freezing over any lingering nostalgia, any lingering warmth. His answer is so vague, so detached considering everything that you were.

Desperate, you search for recognition in his stare.

He can’t meet your eyes.

It hurts more than you thought it would.

Was I the only one thinking of you all this time?

The girl next to him doesn’t seem to notice your unrest for the moment, instead grabbing your hand warmly.

“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Mualani!” she greets. You can tell she’s a genuinely nice person, and it only makes you feel more guilty about your annoyance.

You make a real attempt to return her enthusiasm, but all you feel is something rotten settling underneath your skin. It’s all wrong. You must be dreaming.

Kinich still won’t look at you.

At the end of the day, it’s not Mualani you’re upset with. It’s not her, and maybe it’s not Kinich either.

It’s yourself.

How pathetic, you think hotly, weight shifting from one foot to the other. Mualani is a talker, so you let her rattle on about the Pilgrimage and the participants while you stew in your thoughts.

You’d said all those things and left Kinich behind because you wanted him to grow, and yet you’re the one stuck on lingering feelings. Expecting things to be the same as they were back then was a daydream you should’ve grown out of years ago.

Kinich is an Ancient Name Bearer now. He’s seen things beyond your comprehension, horrors hidden in the Wayob and Abyssal beasts that threatened to suck him into the darkness. It’d be ridiculous to think he’d spent all this time missing you.

And you’re different now, too. You’ve seen every inch of Natlan, gone near and far to hone your skills and become strong in your own right. You’re confident that you’ve completely changed from the child that you were.

And yet, it hurts.

Mualani pauses her speech, concern growing in her irises.

“Are you okay?” she asks, patting your shoulder.

Before you get the chance to say anything else, a familiarly grating voice approaches, floating through the crowd with an enraged expression. People scamper out of the way as he passes, trying to avoid his anger.

It’s Ajaw, followed by two more people you don’t recognize—a younger girl with a high ponytail, and a blonde in dark clothing. More strangers. Kinich’s friends, presumably.

“How dare you leave me behind to babysit your stupid friends, servant?! You can’t just go doing whatever you want all the time!”

In a strange way, you’re almost relieved to see Ajaw there. Despite how obnoxious he is, he seems to be the one thing that hasn’t changed. Upon seeing you, however, he seems less than ecstatic.

“The girlfriend again?” he whines loudly, floating to Kinich’s side. “Thought I’d seen the last of you years ago. I practically forgot you existed—“

A spark alights in your chest, and Kinich reacts just as fast—the small dragon is practically swatted out of existence by his quick hand, his jaw clenching in irritation. For as long as you’ve known him, he isn’t one to react much to Ajaw’s teasing.

He must’ve been truly annoyed by Ajaw referring to you as his girlfriend.

Mualani’s warm hand falls away from your shoulder, almost in slow-motion. All attention falls to you, shock written across each person’s face. You can’t seem to breathe as hot humiliation licks up your neck, throat squeezing with tension.

Kinich still isn’t looking at you.

The younger girl toys with her fingers, clearly feeling pressured by the situation.

“Ah, so you’re…”

Her mouth is already forming the first syllable of your name by the time she cuts herself off, reading the discomfort on Kinich’s face. She looks between the two of you, chewing at her lip.

So she knows who you are. They all do.

It doesn’t mean anything, you think bitterly, at least not in the way you want it to. It’s not unnatural that Kinich would mention you—it would be difficult not to, considering how long you had spent together. But evidently, he hadn’t mentioned everything between the two of you.

Including what you meant to each other.

Gathering yourself, you say your name for her, offering a placid smile. It’s strained, but it seems passable based on the way the tension seems to deflate, if only slightly.

“Yeah, we used to know each other,” you admit, rubbing awkwardly at your arm. Suddenly, the passing crowds feel so much more suffocating.

Everyone else introduces themselves, but all you can focus on is the unreadable stiffness in Kinich’s expression.

You’d imagined this moment for years, perhaps from the second you’d gone your separate ways. Maybe you were over-optimistic in expecting something more; after all, you were just kids back then. Being an adult means having different responsibilities. It only makes sense that you wouldn’t be at the forefront of his mind now.

But you would never have expected this level of indifference.

“Well, we were just about to go get something to eat!” Mualani suggests, slinging an arm over your shoulders. She really is a nice person, you think. “So if you have the time, we’d love for you to join us!”

And realistically, you do have time. You’re just not sure if you have the emotional capacity to watch Kinich ignore you for another hour or two.

Everyone else voices their agreement at your attendance, except for the one person that you want to hear it from the most.

Bile builds in your throat, hot and acidic.

“Sorry,” you mumble, ducking out of Mualani’s hold. “I have other things to do. But maybe I can meet up with you all later.”

Mualani says something that you can’t hear, because you’re already slipping away into the rest of the crowd, eyes stinging with threatening tears. You never should’ve come to watch the Pilgrimage in the first place.

You’d known he was going to be here, of course. Deep down, maybe you’d been craving to see him again in your own way.

But not like this.

Heavy footfalls follow behind you.

Kachina’s worried tone breaks through the cacophony in your head.

“Kinich?! Where are you go—”

You hear the quiet “excuse me’s”, the sound of someone making their way through the writhing crowd to catch up with your quick pace. It still sounds somewhat far behind you, too caught up in the throng of people, boisterous.

Faster, you think, pressing your palm over your mouth. You fear you might throw up. I have to get out of here.

You almost make it, too. You’re just overlooking the rolling plains and steep cliffs outside the grand entrance of the Stadium, the first gulp of fresh air finally filling your lungs.

But Kinich has always been faster than you.

The footsteps grow louder with each second, thick boots meeting the solid ground, and then he’s there.

“Wait.”

Despite your best efforts, his grip catches the edge of your sleeve, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“Let go,” you mumble dully, weakly tugging at his grip.

You don’t dare turn around. You’re afraid of what you’ll see in his expression—whether or not you’ll recognize it at all.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. You simply wait, frozen in time, the chaser and the chased.

“It’s not what you think,” he finally says, a quiet rumble from his chest.

Even his voice sounds different, you think painfully, but the tone is always the same—smooth and calm.

So he knows. He knows how he made you feel, and he recognized the despair in your disposition.

It only makes you angrier.

“You don’t know what I think,” you fire back, tilting your head to look at him.

Finally getting a good glance at him up close, you’re surprised by how frail he looks. Dark, purpling circles sit beneath his sunken eyes, like he hasn’t slept in days. Even back when you were just two young kids struggling to survive, you’ve never seen him look so sickly.

“I do,” he sighs. His grip on your wrist loosens, but doesn’t disappear. “You know I do.”

The worst part is that, even now, he probably does.

The corners of your eyes are stinging, but you refuse to cry in front of him. Even now, after days upon weeks upon months of not seeing him, after years of growing into your own life, you want to let him comfort you. Desperation nibbles at you slowly.

But things are different now.

Gently, you fist at the fabric over your chest, trying to feel for your heartbeat. When you find it, it’s racing, sprinting, pulling you far away.

But you’re different this time, too. Braver, maybe.

You turn to face him fully, pulling your wrist away. His lips part in shock at the action, but he doesn’t reach for you again.

That stings, too.

“You should go eat with everyone else,” you manage, teeth gritted. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

“It’s not—”

Kinich’s brows knit together, sorrow written in his expression, and it seems like there’s an apology on the tip of his tongue when he glances over you and his breath hitches.

“You have a Vision,” he murmurs, eyes glazing over like he’s remembered something chilling. You frown.

Does he think I shouldn’t have one?

Kinich doesn’t elaborate, too transfixed on the ruby amulet hanging from your waist. Slowly, his hands form white-knuckled fists, so tight that you can practically see his nails digging into his skin.

“Where did you…”

He can’t seem to finish his sentence, expression reflecting genuine horror. You’ve never seen him so affected, except maybe the day his father fell. It shakes you to your core for a moment, temporarily forgetting about the raw feelings building in your chest.

“Are you okay?”

Out of reflex, you grasp for his hand—he flinches, and you drop your grip immediately.

“No—”

“Sorry, I—”

You both speak at once, only to cut yourselves off. Silence falls, heavy and thick. Kinich’s throat bobs like he’s trying to swallow it all down.

Above, a Qucusaur squawks distantly, soaring through the rolling clouds.

A slow, painful breath slips between your lips. Your nails dig crescents into your palm. Everything, every moment since you saw each other again, has felt so wrong.

He’s Kinich, but he’s not—not your Kinich. At least, not that you can see.

There was a time, years ago, that you would’ve been confident that you were the only one who knew what he was thinking. Now, you think you might be the only one who doesn’t.

Your mouth dries out, throat tightening around the growing lump in your windpipe. You can’t cry in front of him. You won’t.

“Well, contrary to whatever you think about me, I do have a Vision,” you spit. “I earned it.”

Kinich’s eyes widen. “That’s not…”

“So do you. And Kachina. And Mualani. I’m just like anyone else,” you mumble, turning away. “I have to go.”

Even after all this time, he still thinks you’re too weak to stand by his side.

As you turn to leave, you realize you’re probably being a bit immature. Actually, you definitely are. You haven’t given him much of a chance to explain at all, but you don’t know if hearing it would change anything for you; it’s the result of all your broken promises and dreams, all the moments you’ve idealized that are crumbling to dust right in front of you.

The weight of this new reality hasn’t settled in yet—a reality in which you are no longer the most important thing to each other. Each footstep feels melancholic as you steel yourself against the swirling feelings.

You take one more step before he calls out to you again.

“You’re not just anyone.”

Twisting vines tighten around your heart, the thorns digging and boring until you feel like your chest might burst. Kinich has always had a way of burning all of that away—you still can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

A whisper barely drags itself out of your throat.

“What?”

You shouldn’t have asked. You almost don’t want to hear the answer.

But you turn, and Kinich is still standing there a few steps away, right where you left him.

(Is that where he’s always been?)

His eyes are half-lidded, molten stare so intense that it seems to bore straight through you. For a moment, you can imagine you’re back in that small house at the foot of the mountain.

“To me, you’re not just anyone,” he admits, low and gravelly. “You never could be.”

And suddenly, your heart is burning up all over again.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader #genshin impact #kinich #genshin impact imagines #kinich x you #genshin impact x you #adeptus ink

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eraenaa · 7 days ago

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Yielded Devotion

Aemond Targaryen x Clingy Lannister Reader

Synopsis: King Aemond Targaryen would rather forsake the crown, court, and his dragon rather than face the anger and contempt of his beloved queen. But when her craving for his love and attention turns unpredictable, he finds himself tested in more ways than one.

Warnings: Clingy/SPOILED Reader, Aemond being a simp for his wife, Cock-Warming, Using Sex as a Weapon, Handjob, Possessiveness, Mature, 18+, Semi-Public Relations, Pregnancies, Slight Violence, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 10,791 (mb, i got carried away)

Prequels: Impatient and Desperate ; Neglected Promises

You were a needy little creature, and your husband had long known this. What he had not anticipated, however, was that your clingy, dependent self could reach new, almost astonishing heights. Since your reconciliation—born from your husband’s brief spell of neglect, which few would dare call true negligence—Aemond had made it his mission to ensure you never felt such lack again. Every spare moment he had, he gave to you, and truthfully, he would not have it any other way.

Each morning, he forwent his usual habit of rising with the sun and instead lingered in bed, holding you as you slumbered peacefully. He would cut council meetings short—sometimes barely making an appearance at all—just to steal quiet moments with you among the garden blooms, breaking fast by your side. Even court matters were occasionally left unattended, for if his wife wished him near, that alone became his highest priority. And by the grace of the gods, the realm had yet to suffer for it.

But now... now Aemond was beginning to worry. You had once accepted that there were hours in the day when duty would pry him away from you. You had even bid him farewell with soft smiles and sleepy kisses. But lately, it seemed, you had regressed. Where once he thought you satisfied after clinging to him through the early dawn, you now demanded more—you wanted him there when you woke, to be the first sight your eyes found upon rousing from sleep. Aemond had begun slipping from meetings to sprint through the halls, breathless, simply to whisper good morning against your lips. He told himself that would be the end of it. A further indulgence, then no more.

But then came the baths. At first, he’d only planned to return to the council to spend the midday with you, but you began calling for him earlier, beckoning him to join you in the steaming waters. And how could he say no? He could, of course. But between pressing matters of state and the opportunity to lather your warm, silken skin, the choice was hardly a choice at all.

Then came the meals. Where once you asked only for breakfast and supper together, now you insisted upon luncheon as well—an hour sacred to his training. Still, Aemond sighed and yielded. What was one less hour with the sword compared to the look of delight in your eyes when he sat across from you, watching you eat, even as he himself had no appetite?

Soon, even the briefest separations became unbearable for you. If he left to spar, you appeared at the edge of the training yard. If he retreated to the library for an hour's quiet, your soft footsteps would soon follow. At first, he had indulged these things because he could not bear for you to grow doubtful of him once more.

However, he knew he must speak to you after the stunt you had pulled at court. It was during the weekly hearing of petitions by the smallfolk. He was seated on the iron throne whilst an unending line of smallfolk stood before him. Aemond had only dismissed and solved three measly matters before his queen came sauntering into the hall, ignoring those who bowed before her wake and made a beeline for her husband.

You did not hesitate as you ascended the throne where Aemond sat upon, his questioning look left unanswered as you only unfolded his crossed arms and perched yourself upon his lap, settling yourself atop your husband and wrapping his arms around you. The court was stunned, to say the least. Though they had witnessed and heard you and your husband grow intimate time and time again, their queen at least had the decency not to blatantly disrupt court matters. The room had grown silent, and your husband’s confusion only grew further as you had not said a word to him.

“Continue,” You declared, looking upon the men and women before you who only gawked as they witnessed their queen perching herself upon her husband, who sat in shock behind her. When no one did as you had said and instead only continued to look at you, you rolled your eyes and sighed. “I said, continue!” You snapped, and the court was quick to dissolve their trance and proceed with uttering their petitions to their king.

“Is anything the matter, my heart?” Aemond finally questioned, as the guards were settling who would speak to the king next. “Nothing,” You said simply, and burrowed your body further upon his, Aemond having to restrain himself as his cock was growing restless by how you would shift ever so slightly from time to time. “Are you certain?” Aemond questioned once more, now growing concerned.

“Husband, when have I ever bit my tongue if something has bothered me?” You questioned, and Aemond bit the inside of his cheeks. You may be needy, but at least you were always honest. “Very well then,” He hummed and motioned for the next citizen to come forward.

The day continued on as such, with the smallfolk airing out their grievances before their king, whose queen sat upon his lap. Aemond would note how you would take his hand and play with his fingers, mind adrift, even if the most salacious topics arose, you did not listen. From time to time, he would hear whispers from the court regarding you and your odd demeanour that day, and your husband would not hesitate to throw his most scathing look upon them and effectively cut their wagging tongues. “How much longer?” You finally spoke, feeling the light of the fleeting sun set you aglow. “Just a few more, my heart,” Aemond reassured and placed a chaste kiss upon the crown of your head, and you could only hum and intertwine your fingers, your gaze set afar.

When the court finally ended, Aemond delivered you back to your shared chambers, and you could not even wait until the door closed shut before circling your arms around your husband’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. “I had missed you, my love,” You breathed out and felt Aemond’s hands hold your waist steady. “We have just spent the whole day together, my heart— you were quite literally on my lap.” Aemond mussed, his heart growing further soft at your words and the wanting look in your eyes that was only meant for him. “That is simply not enough,” You sighed and moved to kiss him once more.

Aemond hummed in satisfaction as he felt your hand cup his length that had been rigid the moment you entered the great hall that morning. “My needy little wife… what is it that you need? Say it now and I shall give it,” Aemond groaned, his lips finding your neck and placing his little marks. Aemond anticipated your reply, but he grew confused as you suddenly pulled away, a calculating look in your eyes.

“Do you love me?” You suddenly questioned. “Of course. I love you more than anything, my heart.” Aemond said without hesitation, and usually, that would calm the uncertainty in you, but you only walked away from him. “You always say that! It is as if you had rehearsed it!” You complained and sat on your settee with an irritated huff, leaving your husband standing with his cock painfully erect in his trousers.

“Then… Then what is it that you wish for me to say, little wife?” Aemond questioned, quickly coming to your side, readying himself to soothe the lion’s irritation once more. You rolled your eyes at his response, growing silent for a moment before another question left your lips.

“Do you love me more than being king?” “Yes,” Aemond said with great certainty.

“Do you love me more than your sword?” You asked and turned a pointed look at Blackfyre, the sword that has never left your husband’s side, even in sleep, it was settled near him. “Yes,” Aemond answered, trying to reach for your hand, but you moved further away from him.

“Do you love me more than your small council?” You asked, and Aemond pursed his lips. “Yes— and I do not hold love for them, little wife— they are just tools,” He clarified, uncertain where you were getting on.

You hummed, looking intently upon your king, who would only kneel for his queen. “Do you love me more than your dragon?” You then questioned, and Aemond felt his heart cease a beat. “Y-yes,” He answered, voice wavering, and you were quick to spot it. You scoffed and suddenly stood. “Very well then, let us see if your precious Vhagar could warm your cock during the night!” You said bitterly and moved to leave. Aemond was quick to take hold of your arm, mind still muddled about what was happening. One moment, you were on him like a leech; now you were tugging at your arm so you could leave him.

“I love you more than Vhagar, ñuha prūmia,” Aemond clarified. And none in the castle missed the sudden roar of their king’s dragon, as if it actually heard its rider’s words. You returned your gaze upon your husband again, your eyebrow raised to assess him. You narrowed your eyes and returned to your seat, and Aemond returned to kneeling before you, pouring out his earnest efforts to calm the doubts in your mind.

The little game you were playing continued on through the night. You had him pick between you and any other thing you believed he would prefer more than you; there was nothing, of course.

“If we have children, who would you love more? Me or your heirs?” You then asked as you and your husband were trying to have supper. You must admit, you were impressed that he had answered all your previous questions and not once had he beseeched you to cease your little torment.

Aemond almost choked on his wine at your question. He looked upon you intently, fearing for his state if he picked the wrong answer. You raised your brow at him once more as you were met with his silence. “If I am to give birth and the maester asked you to pick between me and the babe, who would you pick?” You then asked, and Aemond felt his heart pit. It was theoretical, of course, but he feared that it could actually come true. It was an often enough occurrence; it even happened to his father and his first wife. “I…” Aemond began, hearing as you tapped your finger upon the table in impatience. “…Who would you wish for me to pick?” Aemond then questioned, but you only pursed your lips. “I had asked you. Do not turn my question against me.”

“I… you. I would choose you, my heart.” Aemond finally answered, but you only scoffed in disbelief. “Then the babe! I would choose the babe!” He retracted, but that only earned a louder scoff from you. “Well, what do you want me to do?” Aemond asked, crazed as the throbbing in his cock still had not subsided, and his mind was spinning from all the questions you had asked him.

“Save us both!” You exclaimed and shook your head disapprovingly at your husband. “But— that— I—“ Aemond stuttered as he watched you grumble and stab the carrot on your plate. “I cannot believe you would actually choose between me and our babe,” You muttered and crossed your arms, glaring at your husband.

“You… This is ridiculous!” Aemond suddenly exploded, his mind now aching. “You dare call me ridiculous?!” You seeethed, and Aemond’s eye widened, and he quickly shook his head. “No! What I meant was— this— the questions you ask are impossible to answer!” He exclaimed, sighing heavily. Not even the great matters of the crown had made his head ache this much.

“Are you calling me impossible?” You then challenged, and you could see the turmoil in your husband’s mind. “Yes!” Aemond suddenly burst out, and a gasp left your lips as you could not believe he would say such a thing to you. When Aemond had realized what he had said, he felt his heart pit. He watched as your angered gaze turned to rage, and he quickly stood to go by your side and take back what he had said.

He thought you would scream at him— that you would roar out your anger, but it was something worse. You began to cry. “I knew it! You don’t love me anymore!” You wailed and pushed away your husband, who tried to gather you in his arms. You abruptly stood and dashed out of your chambers, tears streaming down your face as you made your way through the dark halls. Aemond was left in your chambers, dumbfounded. He could not even muster up the energy to follow you as you had driven him crazy that day. He could only pray to the gods for strength and hope you would be more reasonable when the sun rises the next day, so he could offer his apologies.

Aemond had not slept at all the past night. He tossed and turned in your bed, but the thought of you crying and the image of your pearl tears dripping down your face haunted him. He had threaded the path to the East wing countless times in the night, knowing you would settle in the chambers that you had once plotted to stay in during your last accord with him. However, Aemond hindered himself because he feared he might only anger and offend you further.

Before the first light could even shine through the land, Aemond was already seated before the table of his small council. He had planned to get through all of the matters during the morning, so the rest of the day could be spent with him begging for your forgiveness.

However, Aemond was left speechless as the doors of the small council suddenly opened, revealing you. Aemond composed himself, debating if he was dreaming. “My h—“ He tried to speak, but you threw him a glare. “Do not say a word.” You gritted out, and Aemond could only watch as you bent down and undid his trousers. “Wh—“

“Your queen had commanded you not to speak!” You said irritably as you pulled out his cock, which was already hard just from your slightest touch. Aemond’s confusion from the past night never lessened; if anything, it only multiplied as you lifted your skirts and once again settled yourself between your husband’s legs and began to sink down his cock, your lip between your teeth as you tried to stifle a moan.

Aemond’s lone eye rolled back in immense pleasure as his cock finally felt the tight, warm walls of your cunt. His hands instinctively went to your waist, but you were quick to swat them. “I did not come here to be fucked.” You informed stoically, twisting your head partly to see the confusion in your husband. You liked him in such a state. There are a few things that left the mind of the great King Aemond confused, and you're proud to say it was primarily because of you. “Then why is my cock inside of you?” He breathed out heavily, his hands gripping tightly the wooden arms of his chair. You only shrugged. “I shall be part of the meetings today— you will not move. You shall go on as you do normally… and once you do, then perhaps I shall consider speaking to you about what had transpired last night.”

“Bu—“ Aemond tried to speak, but he only felt your walls clench around him further, effectively muddling his mind and stealing the words from his tongue. “You had called me impossible— then I shall only show you something truly impossible, my king.” You whispered as you heard the distinct sounds of murmurings and footsteps approaching the room of the small council.

You leaned forward and propped yourself on the table. You glanced downwards and witnessed the tight hold your husband had on his chair, his knuckles turning white, and his ragged breathing reaching your ears. “Good morning, my lords.” You greeted and watched as the men who entered the room grew confused by your presence and how you were seated on your husband’s lap once more.

When you were met with their silence, you clenched your cunt again. “M—My wife bided you good mo… morning.” Aemond gritted out, his voice holding the same tone of authority but now laced with pleasure and restraint. “Good morning, my queen,” They finally greeted and took their seats, looking at each other in question.

“What are today’s m-matters?” Aemond questioned, trying his best not to let his voice waver or let anyone witness the pleasure he was denied. “Are you well, my king?” His master of ships questioned, and Aemond clenched his jaw as he felt your cunt pulse once more, a small hum leaving your lips. “Yes. Now, let us get to the matters at hand.” Aemond gritted out, his hands impossibly gripping tighter the arms of his chair, the wooden carvings now traced upon his flesh.

“It is a topic of great sensitivity, my king… are you certain the queen sho—“ You cast an unimpressed look upon one of the lords and ever so slightly shifted your bottom, and you could hear a small groan leave your husband’s lips, which he quickly masked with a fictitious cough. “My wife is the queen— she… she has the right to know the happenings in our kingdom,” Aemond answered, feeling a slight sense of relief as you unclenched your tight cunt and offered him some sort of relief for a brief moment.

You sat in silence as the men began their discussion, pretending to listen when in truth you had little care for politics. Of course, you cared about your kingdom and its people, but not so much for the talk that the men in power did.

“What else?” You hear your husband question, and you barely spot a tone of struggle in his voice, and you take that as a cue to return to your little torment once more. You bit back your smirk as you once again heard his ragged breathing and how he gritted his teeth. As they continued, you grew increasingly bored, so you decided to push further at your husband’s restraint and patience. You shifted in your seat, pretending to reach for the pitcher of wine before you, but in truth, you were grinding upon your husband’s cock, and it would seem the lords were none the wiser.

When your husband let out a heavy breath, the lords ceased in their conversation. “Are you certain you are well, your majesty?” He was once again asked, while you looked upon the group of men innocently. Your husband’s head was tilted to the heavens, his eye closed tightly. When he made no response, a rather impertinent lord decided to speak.

“My king… the matters of the day are rather serious— perhaps the queen should… should leave and so you could focus.” Your jaw slackened as you heard such words uttered, an oppressive tension now surrounding the room.

“Dare to repeat those words again, lord Tawley?” You challenged, your husband too consumed by the feel of your cunt around him that he did not readily jump to your defense. “My queen… this is no place for you. We understand that you wish to be with your husband, but you do not see us lords dragging our wives to important dealings.” The lord had the audacity to say, but he quickly regretted it as their queen’s gaze turned murderous. None had actually witnessed her grow enraged as their king was always quick to smooth away the troubles and conflicts she would cross.

“Well, of course not. You cannot even drag your wife to your own bed, for I hear tell she is too preoccupied with your squire.” You hear one of the lords take in a sharp breath at your words. Lord Tawley’s eyes widened, and everyone present watched as he abruptly stood, rage in his eyes, and offence against their queen ready to spew from his lips.

“Careful now, my lord… You forget I am still present.” Aemond finally spoke, and you rested your back upon his chest, a smug smirk on your lips. “My king, this is preposterous! She is no—“

“One more word and I shall have you removed from this council.” You dared say, paying no mind to the actual consequences of your words because you were certain your husband would sort it out in no time. “You have no power to do such a thing! You only believe you do because you had bewitched the king with your cunt!”

It was as if all present had frozen as the words left the lord’s lips. You feel your husband’s hold come to your waist, him wishing to stand and face the lord who dared to disparage his beloved wife. You, however, hindered him. “Guards!” You roared, and three knights were quick to enter the room and restrain the lord. “Cut out his tongue.” You ordered, feeling as if all eyes were pointed at you. Even at the severity of the situation, you could not help but feel how your husband’s cock twitched inside you, twisted as he found further pleasure at the circumstance.

You watched as one of the knights battled through their hesitation and took out their dagger, making you scowl. “Not in front of me! Do it in the cells.” You ordered, and they quickly abided and dragged away Lord Tawley, who began to cry and beseech your forgiveness.

You breathed in deeply and returned your gaze upon the table filled with stunned lords who shrank in fear in their seats. “Well? Does any one of you wish to say anything? Best say it now whilst you have the opportunity,” You say and hear another quiet groan leave your husband’s lips. The lords fervently shook their heads and avoided your gaze. Before, they had feared crossing you because they knew they would suffer the wrath of your husband; now, they feared for your wrath as well.

The council began to proceed with their discussion, trying to hide their fear as they had no wish to befall the same fate as Lord Tawley. You watched for a moment, but you felt your husband’s head dip down, and his lips grazed your ear. “Plea…Please, my heart,” You hear him whisper, his hands now returning to your waist as you feel him grow restless beneath you.

You shifted your head slightly, looking upon the begging gaze of your husband. “Do not come. If you do, I swear to the gods that the next matter you and your council will be discussing is who shall be your second wife.” You threatened, and a sadistic smirk appeared on your lips as you heard him whimper and swallowed thickly. Your husband had offended you greatly the other night. You believed that you could look past it; however, your mind and heart were stubborn at the moment, and all it wanted to do was to prove to Aemond what impossible truly meant.

The council had ended by midday, unending hours of Aemond’s cock being inside your cunt, but he still had not found release. As the lords gathered their belongings, Aemond snapped and practically forced them out of the room. Aemond breathed out a breath of relief and quickly returned his hands to your waist, but you only stood, and another pitiful groan left his lips. “But my heart—“ He called, and you looked down upon him and the state you had left him in, needy and desperate, his cock painfully erect and glistening with your slick.

“I had just been insulted in a room filled with lords, yet you still have the decency to be aroused?” You questioned with a scowl and bit your cheeks at the look of your husband, who appeared as if he wanted to weep.

“But you handled them so well— you have put them in their place. Now no one would question your authority ever again,” Aemond said, taking hold of your hand and urging you to return to him. You only rolled your eyes. You sighed and leaned closer to your husband, his hands instinctively cupping your cheeks as he thought you would mount him once more. But his pleading face contorted in confused pleasure as your hands gripped his painfully hard cock. “Do not think I have forgiven you, husband… I’m only doing this because there is much kindness in me for those who suffer.” You whispered against his lips, but you would pull away because you did not think he deserved your kisses after what he had said the past night.

“Yes… the gods… they have blessed me with such a benevolent wife,” Aemond groaned, his eye tightly shut as he had to settle with the feel of your soft hand stroking his cock instead of your plush cunt. “I do not… I do not deserve such a gift as you, my heart, but they have blessed me more than any man is deserving to have.” Aemond breathed out, and you smirked upon his words and finally obliged him with his release. Aemond came undone with a loud groan that echoed through the room of the small council, his eye quickly opening as he felt you leave a chaste kiss on his cheek and quickly stole your hand away from his cock.

Aemond could watch through his daze as you took a napkin to wipe your hands that were coated with his spent and left the room without another word.

Another night was spent without you in Aemond’s arms, and it was driving him crazy. They had always said that his house was cursed with madness, and he believed it was because of the blood that coursed through their veins, but it would seem his madness would come from his wife.

It was the hour of the ghost when Aemond decided he could no longer continue as such. He threaded the dark halls of the keep and reached his destination, pounding insistently upon the chamber doors of the castle’s head maester. “My king— is anything the matter?” The maester questioned, startled by his presence.

“It is the queen,” Aemond confessed, and the maester was quick to gather his items to assess the queen. “No— she is not ill— at least not in that way,” Aemond sighed as he entered the maester’s chambers, having no other place to turn to. “Then, what is it, your majesty?” He was questioned.

“I have always known that my wife is a needy creature… and I am more than happy to oblige her and place my attention upon her each moment she asks. However, now… it is different. It is as if she had changed overnight. She would need me, of course— but then she would be quick to push me away. She is driving me mad! One moment she would be clawing at me, then the next she would turn me away as if I had the plague!” Aemond exclaimed and accepted a goblet of wine from the maester. “I should not even mention the scenes she caused yesterday at court and the ordeal in the small council,” Aemond added with a heavy sigh as his guards delivered to him the tongue of Lord Tawley earlier that afternoon.

As a silence fell upon them, Aemond turned to the old man, his milky eyes pointed at the fire as he assessed his king’s predicament. “Well?” Aemond asked impatiently. “I… It would seem to me that the queen is with child,” The maester suddenly announced, and Aemond was left speechless. “When a woman is carrying a babe… There are differences made in their constitution and emotions— in some women, it is less pronounced. However, in others, it is rather volatile, my king.”

“It is either that the queen is pregnant or she is possessed. If it is the former, you must bring her to see me in the morning… if the latter, then I shall call upon the septons, for this would be beyond my knowledge.” The maester jested, alight with the possibility of the new heir. It had been three years since the queen and king’s marriage, but they had yet to produce a child. None questioned if husband and wife did their duties for all in the castle had been privy to them fulfilling it almost every day, it was just odd that it was only now that they had made a babe, for they had been fornicating like wild rabbits throughout the keep.

“I-I must go to my wife,” Aemond muttered and quickly left the maester’s towers and ran towards the East wing.

When Aemond reached the chambers you resided in, he took careful steps as he entered, seeing your sleeping figure rest peacefully on the feathered bed. He debated on how to proceed as he remembered the last time you and he discussed your pregnancy. He had thought you were with child, but you were not. And you only took his words as an insult upon your appearance, accusing him that he believed you had grown stout. Aemond could not have that again, especially as you had refused food because you believed that your husband had thought you had become pudgy.

Aemond sighed heavily as he carefully occupied the right side of your bed, a pillow placed upon it in which you clutched tightly. Aemond suddenly felt jealous of it— that pillow you held was supposed to be him! He frowned at himself as he realized he, too, was growing unreasonable for placing his jealousy on a pillow. Aemond sighed and ran his fingers through your hair, watching as you stirred. “My heart,” He called softly and watched as your eyes blinked in confusion before finally turning to him. A look of recognition shone through your gaze before it turned annoyed. “What are you doing here? Leave.” You muttered and tried to return to sleep, but Aemond denied your request.

“I said leave!” You grumbled once more, but you only felt as your husband lay down next to you and took you in his arms. “No.” He boldly replied, and you tried to wriggle out of his hold. “I know about the… the babe,” he whispered, and you froze. You breathed out heavily as you looked upon the lilac eye of your husband, feeling as his fingers tucked away a stray lock of your hair. “It took you long enough,” You muttered, finally conceding. You didn’t truly know how to say it to him— how to announce that you were with child because it too had taken you by surprise. But they do say that actions speak louder than words, and so… you only placed hints that you were finally carrying his heir.

Aemond breathed out a laugh and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Why did you not just tell me?” He questioned and pulled you closer to him. You were quite unpredictable, but Aemond could not comprehend that your unpredictability would also affect this joyous news. “Because… I’m frightened.” You admitted, and through your fright, you had acted irrationally. Now you feel the guilt for what you had subjected your husband to over the past days. He was not deserving of it, for he had always been devoted to you, and you only repaid him with your temperamental behavior.

“My mother died whilst giving birth to my brother— even if my father had worshiped the ground she walked upon… he still chose the babe whose first breath was also his last. He chose him over his wife, and I fear that I shall befall the same fate.” You confessed, and Aemond could only cup your cheeks as you took in a shaky breath. “I won’t ask again who you will choose because I know you must choose the babe… but I a—“

“I would choose you, my heart,” Aemond whispered, the decision clear in his heart. Though he knew he needed heirs— that you both were ready for children of your own— but if gods forbid that he is given such a choice, he knew he’d choose you; he would always choose you. You shook your head, “No. You need an heir— It is my duty to provide you with a—“

Aemond kissed your lips shut. “Your duty, my little wife, is to be by my side. Your duty is to simply be here — to drive me mad with your games, with your impossible questions, and your love. Your duty is to be my other half. Not some broodmare who would dispense my heirs.” Aemond clarified, thinking that would settle the fear in your heart, but he was mortified to see tears in your enchanting eyes. Now he realized that he’d prefer for you to look at him through your anger than your tears.

“How could you be so kind and devoted when I have been nothing but horrible the past days?!” You cried as you sat up, your husband quickly pulling you into his hold once more. Aemond breathed out in slight amusement and combed his fingers through your hair. “If you are asking me to be anything less, then I am afraid I must deny you, my heart,” Aemond murmured against your head. You took in a deep breath and moved to kiss his lips, showing your love and gratitude that had been muddled in translation over the past days.

“You are aware that my mood shall only worsen in the upcoming moons,” You informed as you two parted for breath. Aemond could only smile, “I know, my heart.” He answered, and you frowned. “Are you not at least concerned for yourself?” You asked. “No. I have said it before— you could burn and bury me alive, and I shall bear it with a smile just as long as it was by your hands, ñuha prūmia.” You breathed out heavily and intertwined your lips, your arms circling his neck as you pulled him down the bed.

“We’re still allowed to fuck even though I’m pregnant, yes?” You questioned, and Aemond let out a laugh as all of your chasteness truly did disappear the moment you two became husband and wife. “Yes, ñuha prūmia. And I do believe it is encouraged… it helps you find relief.” Aemond smirked and bent down to kiss your lips once more, but you only pushed on his shoulders and urged him to place his kisses downwards.

You sighed in content as you felt his cool lips upon the inside of your thighs, his long hair brushing against your skin like a silken veil. The way Aemond worshipped you—especially now, with new life growing inside you—made you feel divine, unearthly, adored. And gods, how you needed that right now. As his lips traveled lower, his hands caressed the sides of your thighs, patient and reverent. You buried your fingers in his hair, letting your head fall back against the pillows, a soft moan escaping your lips as his tongue finally found you—slow, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to relearn every part of you.

“You taste different,” he murmured against you with a quiet hum. “Fuller. Sweeter.” He added, and you feel his tongue lick a clean line between your slit once more.“Is that your way of saying I’m getting fat?” you teased breathlessly, though your hips lifted in silent encouragement.

Aemond glanced up, lips glistening, his eye dark with heat and amusement. “I’d say you’ve never looked more radiant, but if you insist on testing me again, my queen, I might have to answer with my tongue instead of words.” You gasped, cheeks aflamed as his lips clasped upon your throbbing pearl. “You’re insufferable.” You moaned out. “And you’re insatiable,” he countered, pressing another slow kiss to your inner thigh before returning to his worship.

As the minutes dragged deliciously on, you writhed beneath him, hands tangled in the sheets, cries muffled against your wrist as you bit down to keep from screaming— though it was pointless for the castle had heard you screaming your husband’s name time and time again. Aemond’s grip on your thighs tightened just as your peak crested, and he drank in your release as if it were the most delectable wine from Dorne.

You trembled as he climbed back up your body, licking his lips clean of you, eyes blazing. “Still worried I don’t love you more than my sword?” he asked, his silky voice husky and edged with laughter. You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes hooded, lips swollen. “I’m beginning to think you love me more than you love breathing.” You sighed in bliss.

“That I do,” he said simply. And with that, he slid inside you—slow, deep, and teasing. He knew well that you did not enjoy tender strokes, not as much as you enjoyed a brazen fuck. Aemond hissed as your nails dug into his shoulders, watching as you bit your lip as he hit the exact spot he knew would turn you putty in his hands. “Stop teasing me, my love, I think you forget I’m still quite cross with you,” You breathed out, and Aemond dipped down to place a kiss on your ample breast. “Apologies, my heart,” He whispered against your skin as his thrust began to grow rapid. “Is… Is that better, little wife?” He gritted out, his voice barely heard as the room echoed with the sound of your slapping skins and your moans.

You could not even reply, consumed by the feel of your husband’s cock. You pulled him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and letting your lips seek his. “Do you think the court would be alarmed if I… I woke them up with my screams?” You questioned, breathless. Your husband only smirked. “I believe they’re quite used to it already, my heart.” He muttered, letting his hand go downward to rub circles on your aching pearl. Aemond hissed as he felt the familiar clench of your cunt once more, and the moans you spewed were music to his ears.

“Oh… oh gods— I—“ You said, distraught, your chest heaving as the mere feel of your husband was all too much and all too overwhelming. As you came undone, Aemond was quick to follow suit, your name slipping from his lips as his cock was fully sheathed within you. You reached upwards and pulled him down once again, feeling your slick skin tangle. “I love you,” You could not help but say, and you hear a satisfied hum and a grin emerge from Aemond’s lips. “Then I am the luckiest man who will ever live,”

“No.” You said, stubborn as your husband and the castle’s head maester tried to reason with you. “But—“ Aemond tried to speak, but your glaring eyes made him cease. “This discussion is over! The kingdom will not know that I am with child so soon!” You protested, and the maester turned to the king, wagering that he would yield to your wants, just as always.

“Do you not understand what shall happen to me if the kingdom shall come to know? Your insipid council will insist on locking me in our chambers in fear that something shall happen to the babe! Not to mention that my father would race here with a militia of maesters and maids!” You said in great annoyance whilst your husband pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then what do you wish for us to do? Hide your bump under your skirts until we just surprise the kingdom once the babe pops out of your womb?” Aemond questioned incredulously, but you only nodded. “Yes!”

“That is ridi—“ Aemond almost said once more, but he quickly hindered himself at the threatening look in your eyes. “It is not feasible, my heart.” Aemond sighed, but you shook your head. “Might I say something, your majesties?” The maester hesitantly asked, eyeing you warily.

“I agree with the queen’s intent to an extent… You need not announce to the kingdom about the babe so soon… perhaps when she reaches the middle of her second stage, then can you make the announcements.” He suggested, and Aemond looked hopeful at the maester’s proposition, looking at your reaction. When he heard a sigh leave your lips and saw the annoyed roll of your eyes, he then knew you agreed.

“Fine.” You gritted out, and the two men before you smiled in relief. “Great! Well, the babe is quickening… I estimate that he or she was conceived a month and a half ago, it would seem. I do implore you to eat more, your majesty— you both would need great nourishment,”

“I shall see to it,” Aemond answered, and a scoff left your lips as you could already foresee your husband force-feeding you throughout the day. “Very well, if that is all, my king, my queen— I must take my leave. Congratulations once again.” The maester said, a ghost of a smile on his lips, for after three long years, the heir of the throne was finally to come.

“Why are you still here?” You suddenly questioned as your husband took a leisurely seat on his chair that was next to yours. Aemond let out a breath of a laugh. “You were begging with me to stay with you just days before, and now you are shooing me away?” He questioned as he took a book into his hands. “Do you not have to hold council?” You asked further, and your husband just hummed. “No.”

When Aemond saw the further confusion on your frowning gaze, he sighed and reached to hold your hand. “I did promise you that we would have a week to ourselves each month, didn’t I? Well, that week should start now. You have me all to yourself for the next seven days,” Aemond explained, but that did not lessen the confusion you harbored.

“Then who shall hold court?” You questioned. “My lord hand,” He responded.

“Who shall oversee the small councils and their decisions?” Aemond sighed and caressed with his thumb the back of your hand. “They are grown men, my heart— they need not their king to breathe down their neck for each decision they make.”

“Then what of your training with the sword?” You asked, knowing your husband could never abandon such customs. “I shall have it during midday, in the courtyard, whilst you have your luncheon.” You narrowed your eyes, calculating your husband’s responses. “What of your reading?” Aemond raised the book in his hands. “I am reading right now, my heart.” He said, another round of your questions and interrogation.

You hummed in thought, turning upon your husband who read whilst he held your hand. “Very well, since you are here now… might we discuss the name of our babe?” You asked and watched him still for a moment before closing his book once more, and nodded.

“As much as I am fond of your family’s names and their redundance… with it even causing a confusion over the throne— I’d rather give our babe a name that would not cause a war,” You say, and Aemond breathed in a deep breath. “As much as I miss my brother, I truly would rather not name him Aegon.” He said, and you nodded. “Good, we are in agreement.”

“What of Aemon?” Aemond questioned, and he frowned as well as you frowned further, “Do not be so full of yourself, husband— it is not attractive.” You said, and Aemond let out a scoff as such words left your lips. “Says the woman whose cat’s middle name is hers,” He muttered and turned to your aging cat that rested on a velvet pillow on the floor. You only rolled your eyes. “I rather like the name Jacaerys,” You said in a tease, and a look of suppressed anger flashed in his eye. “I’d burn the entire kingdom before I name my child after a bastard,” He said and watched as a teasing grin came to your lips.

“But what if our babe is a girl?” You suddenly questioned and watched your husband’s reaction. Aemond felt his hands slightly grow cold. If you two were to have a girl, it would mean there would now be two of you he’d have to appease and dote upon. Aemond could not help but smile widely at the thought. “I propose a compromise. If our babe is a girl, then you, my heart, shall name her. And if it is a boy, then I shall name him… with your approval, of course.” Aemond said, and his heart fluttered as the frown finally dissolved from your brows. “I am not opposed to that,” you say, and Aemond took the back of your intertwined hands to his lips and placed upon them a lingering kiss.

The day of your labor was quicker to come than Aemond had expected. Three moons before you were expected to give birth, the king and queen had finally announced to the entire kingdom the joyous news that the heir to the throne was to come. You were reluctant to do it that early, of course, if you had it your way, you would have let them know once the babe had already arrived. However, as your gowns could no longer hide your swollen bump and your temper could no longer be excused with the same frayed excuses, you had no choice but to finally announce your pregnancy.

Just as you had thought, the moment your pregnancy was announced, your father rushed from Casterly Rock to Kingslanding and with him came maesters, maids, and a mountain of gifts for you and the babe growing in your womb.

Aemond paced nervously outside of your chambers, hearing your ragged breath and pained groans was torture for him. He took in deep breaths as he heard you let out a loud grunt, your sounds of pain and struggle prominent as the castle was rendered silent as they anticipated the birth of their new prince or princess. Traditionally, there was a week of feasting and tourneys scheduled during the birth of a royal child; you, however, insisted that it should be moved after you had given birth, for you did not wish to be abed whilst the kingdom was drowning in merriment.

“Get me my husband,” You panted as you fisted the sheets of your bed, not out of pleasure like you were used to, but rather in excruciating pain. “My queen, the king is not supposed to be pr—“

“I don’t fucking care! Get me my Aemond!” You roared at one of the maesters who dared to go against your orders. Before anyone could move, Aemond heard your call and readily entered the room without care for the customs they deem to be proper. “I’m here, my heart,” Aemond announced and hurriedly went by your side to take hold of your hands, wincing at the tight grip. “My king, you sho—“

“I’ve cut out seven tongues during this pregnancy, maester— try not to be the eighth,” You hissed as the maester was insistent that your husband should not be by your side. You turned to Aemond, who dabbed a cloth upon your sweated brow, concern filling his lone eye as you were consumed by pain. “I— I do not think I can do it,” You cried as you felt another twisting pain, gripping your husband’s hand tighter.

“Of course you can, ñuha prūmia.” Aemond murmured. “I am here,” He said, and you let out a stifled scream as you could no longer bear the pain. Aemond held his breath as you panted heavily, the maesters and wet nurse now gathered by your feet as the babe was crowning.

“P—Promise me you’ll choose our babe. Disregard all that I had said—“ You said, distraught, as your eyes were tightly shut. When you forced them open, you looked upon your husband, who turned pale. Aemond glanced towards the bloodied sheets of the bed, the anxious looks exchanged by the maesters, and the weakened, pained expression in your eyes. “No.” He said stubbornly. “I had promised I would choose you, and I do not intend to break that promise.”

You groaned as the maesters urged you to push, “Do not be stubborn, Aemond.” You managed to say as you fell back on the pillows, the whole of your body feeling as if it was being torn apart. Aemond glanced towards the maesters once more, consumed by hushed whispers on how to deliver the babe. They need not say anything, but he knew there was trouble brewing. “You will not leave me, ñuha prūmia.” Aemond gritted out harshly as your eyes were on the ceiling, preparing yourself to push once more. “You cannot leave me. If you do, that child will be an orphan for I shall soon follow,” Aemond said as he urged you to turn to him.

You managed to let out a breath of a laugh at your husband’s words. Seeing the clear fear in his eye. “Do not be ridiculous, my love. Our babe shall need you,” you whispered, your heart feeling the same dread your mother must have felt during her labours with your late brother. “My king… the babe is breached,” The head maester said in dread, looking upon the king who was consumed by fear and the queen who seemed to already know her fate.

You made your husband turn to you, a tired smile on your lips, and you took the back of his hand closer to your heart. “I shall be fine, my love.” You say reassuringly, but Aemond only shook his head, his eye welling with tears that wished to cascade down his cheeks, but he was stubborn. “You need to push again, my queen,” One of the maids informed, and you gave one last look towards your husband, praying the gods that by the end of this torment, your babe would be delivered safely.

Aemond could only kneel beside you in fear as your face reddened and contorted in pain as you gave an intensive effort to bring forth the babe. When Aemond watched as you fell down the pillows once more, and the sound of your babe’s cries, his heart ceased for a moment. “It’s a boy, your grace— It’s a boy!” The maester rejoiced, urging their king to hold his newborn son. However, Aemond could not be pried from your side.

“I’m… I’m fine, my love. Go, see our son,” You say breathlessly, turning to your husband with your tired smile. Aemond only shook his head. “Check upon your queen!” He barked at the maesters and maids, still fearing that there would be a complication that would arise the moment he let go of your hands. “You’re being paranoid, Aemond. Go, bring me our child.” You say as the maesters once again gathered by your feet to assess if all seemed normal.

Aemond reluctantly did as you told, ushering the wetnurse to come closer to him and making her place the babe in one of his arms whilst his other hand still held yours. You smiled through your tiredness, the image of your husband with your son in your arms, placing an ache in your heart. You looked upon the babe who stirred in Aemond’s arm, a blob of pink with the familiar silver hair of your husband, but his eyes were yours. “Why… why is he so large? I knew you were feeding me too much,” You sighed tiredly as your husband distractedly looked upon the maesters who breathed out in relief as no complications seemed to befall you.

When what you said finally registered in Aemond’s mind, he let out a laugh. “Do not blame me, my heart— you were the one who weighed two stones when you were born.” He murmured and placed a kiss upon your forehead, your eyes still glued upon your son. “Here,” Aemond whispered and placed him in your arms, but Aemond frowned as you tried to undo his swaddle. “I want to count his fingers and toes,” You say, knowing that some of the members of your husband’s family had little mutations. It is not that your love for your son would lessen— you just wanted to make certain that he was completely healthy.

Aemond bit back his smile and hindered you, “He’s perfect, my heart.” You breathed out and decided that you would count his little digits later. “What name have you chosen, my love?” You then asked, as Aemond was insistent on keeping his desired name hidden for the past nine moons.

“Aelorion… a perfect name for a dragon and lion prince, is it not?” Aemond questioned, and you smiled with a nod. Aemond smiled, mirroring you, and he placed a chaste kiss on your lips before taking hold of your babe, finally letting you rest.

Years had passed, and through the years came more heirs for the throne. The anxiety your first pregnancy had caused still haunted Aemond. He could not bear to be in a state of not knowing— he could not bear to subject you to more hours of labour and pain. However, you were insistent on bearing a girl.

The moment you were informed by the maesters that you could once again be intimate with your husband, nothing could restrain you from mounting Aemond each night. And even though your husband could never truly have enough of you, there were moments when he would sometimes feel overwhelmed and spent from your constant coupling. However, with just one suggestive look from your enchanting eyes and a kiss from your lips, he knew he’d rather be beaten by tiredness than deny you.

Within four years, you and your husband conceived three more babies. Your second pregnancy came with your secondborn, Prince Aemon, obliging your husband with a name similar to his as the babe was born near his name day. You thought it fitting, as the babe was truly the second coming of your husband, the second-born prince even had the same lone lilac eye of his father, while his other eye was the color of sapphire.

Then your third pregnancy came with two babies, Prince Aelion and Prince Aerion, twin princes who were the spitting image of their mother, as their hair did not turn silver but rather gold. Then, finally, your fourth and what you had hoped would be your final pregnancy came. You had been begging the gods to gift you a girl, one you could spend your days with and spoil just as you were raised.

Though you did love your sons, they were becoming too much like their father, always consumed with their lessons and training with the sword, even if they were just mere tots, to the point that you would even have to be the one to convince them to go and play with the other court children. However, your sons were just like their father, stoic and serious. They did, however, inherit your stubbornness, which unfortunately was a tool against you.

Aemond hummed in content as his hand rested on your bump, and the other held a book. Your four sons were present in your chambers and were seated by your feet whilst you were again embroidering a little dress. Aemond bit the inside of his cheeks as he turned towards a pile of embroidered dresses for a little princess that you had been making and collecting since your second pregnancy.

“You’ve already made hundreds, my heart— surely those should suffice,” Aemond suddenly said, concerned, fearing that when your labors came, you may once again be slightly disappointed if you were not given a girl. He did not know how many more pregnancies you and the court could take. It would seem that even through multiple conceptions, your temper never died down. The courtiers had to walk on eggshells each time it was announced that their queen was with child, knowing you had a penchant for severely punishing those who would cross you without another word.

With your current pregnancy, however, all had noticed a shift in your demeanour. Gone was the ill temper from the queen; she was now more serene. Though none dared to make such comparisons as they feared to provoke the lioness.

“Believe me, my love, I had more. I simply wish for our babe to be as loved as I was,” You say, turning to your sons, who all wore proudly the expensive silks, satins, and delicate embroidery you acquired for them. “You spoil our children too much,” Aemond sighed. “And what good did it do me? Do you know what your eldest asked for on his upcoming name day? A belt! A mere belt, Aemond. He is but four years old! What would he even do with a belt?” You asked incredulously as your sons inherited the practical mind of your husband, even if you had tried to influence them with the extravagance you grew up with.

Aemond grinned as he looked upon Aelorion, showing his twin siblings a new move he learned with his wooden sword whilst Aemon occupied himself with a book, even though the princeling was yet to learn how to read. “And I thought perhaps he wanted a gold belt— maybe with gems upon it like my father wears… but no, he wishes for a plain leather belt,” You muttered in great concern and confusion as you still could not believe your son only wanted a leather belt.

“But you have acquired it already, I assume?” Aemond questioned. “Yes. I bought seven kinds… and…” You trailed, your husband raising a brow. “I got him a little suit and armor— one that looks like yours. Oh, you should see it! It’s absolutely adorable! I didn’t even know that they could make armor that tiny.” You gushed, and Aemond bit his lip as you truly could not help but spoil your children. It did not matter to him that you were somewhat careless in spending the crown’s gold, for in truth, the only reason it overflowed was because of your dowry. And besides, whatever price you decided to spend could never amount to the enchanting look in your eyes as you tried to spoil your children.

You sighed in contempt as you looked down upon your bump, placing your hand atop Aemond’s, who had grown to the habit of letting his rest there. “My heart, I know you believe our babe is a gi—“

“She is a girl,” you sang, already knowing your husband’s skepticism. “You have been saying that since Aemon’s conception— I just fear you might grow disappointed again… I know you love our sons, but I also know you long for a daughter, but ñuha prūmia, I do not think I can risk you to yet another pregnancy,” Aemond murmured and leaned closer to you, who pursed your lips. “I want a daughter, Aemond.” The king could only sigh. “You have promised me you shall give me all that I have wished for,”

“I know, and I will— but thi—“ You shook your head, “This is what I want the most, my love. You cannot be so cruel as to deny me a girl. You already have four boys to follow in your footsteps— but what do I have? Sure, they call upon me when they wail and when they are frightened or running away from you, but any other time, they follow you along like little ducklings and then leave me behind.” You pouted and glanced towards your four boys. “Just one girl, Aemond. I just want one.” You whispered, imploring your husband to understand. When a grievous breath left his lips, you knew he conceded.

“Very well— but if that babe in your womb is still a boy, we must wait at least two more years before we try for a girl again,” Aemond said, and you mindlessly nodded as you knew you would not oblige his order. It was not as if he could deny you during the nights— what is he to do? Force you to drink moon tea? “Very well,” You muttered, both of you knowing you shall not abide.

When the day of your labours came once more, Aemond kneeled beside you, consumed by his nerves, but after three past pregnancies and four births, you had grown accustomed to such ordeals— a statement your husband could not say as well.

“You must be prepared to push, my queen,” A maester said as they had once again gathered by your feet. “I know, maester,” You said, fully knowledgeable of what to do. You turned to your husband, who was wrapped in anxiousness. Your grip on his hand had turned lax as you had grown somewhat accustomed to the pain of pushing out babies to the point that Aemond held your hand tighter than you held his.

“Seriously, my love, you act as if you are the one to give birth,” You sighed as Aemond’s lips were moving soundlessly, consumed with his prayers to the gods. Aemond had become the most devout man in the seven kingdoms each time his wife began her labours.

This time around, you barely had to push before both of you heard the cries of your babe. “It’s a girl— a girl, my queen!” A wetnurse rejoiced as all had known that you were one to insist on having a princess. You smiled widely, looking at your husband’s widened eyes. “How was it so quick?” He could not help but mutter as he glanced towards the nurses who bundled your new babe in a swaddle.

You only smiled further as the little princess you had been waiting for came without fuss. It would seem your system was more inclined to carry and birthing girls. None had said a word to you, but you knew you were easier to appease during your fifth pregnancy, and your temper and disposition no longer raged as they did when you carried your sons.

“Hello, my little princess,” You cooed as your daughter was handed to you, her eyes that shone like amethysts wide open, staring at the woman who had waited impatiently for her arrival. Aemond could not believe that his heart could grow fuller, but at the sight of you and your daughter, the two most important women in his life from now on, he felt his stone-cold heart could explode. “I believe it is your turn to name our child, ñuha prūmia,” He whispered as he looked upon the babe who already resembled her mother.

“My little Aeleora,” You declared, looking longingly upon your babe. “I already have so many tiaras for you,” You could not help but murmur, and Aemond bit his lip as he placed a kiss upon your temple. Husband and wife enjoyed a few more moments of serene quiet before they heard the pounding and call of their four sons, who were as impatient as ever to meet their little sister.

Aemond sat by the foot of your bed and watched as your sons hurriedly waddled their way to your side, enthusiastically trying to catch a glimpse of the babe in your arms. Aemond reached downwards and lifted up your twins, who crawled to your side, you smiling upon your eldest, who looked mesmerized by his new sister.

“Father,” Aemon suddenly called, his little hand holding onto the swaddle of Aeleora so they could see the little princess’ face more clearly. “When could we have another sister?” He then asked, and you let out a laugh at your second son’s request. “But your mother had just given birth,” He said incredulously.

“Father, I want five sisters! We need thr— no, four more!” Aelorion suddenly declared, and your smile only widened as you looked upon Aemond, who was rendered speechless. You watched as your husband shook his head, but you only leaned closer to your sons. “You shall have everything you ask for, my little princes.” You promised and smiled at their cheers, looking upon your husband, who could only smile as well as he could never deny any of your requests. And why should he? It is only because of you that he has gotten all that he could ever want and wish for— he could not be so cruel to deny you of anything. All had known it long ago, the king would forever give and do all you asked of him.

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libraryofgage · 2 years ago

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Good Vibrations Part One

Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.

Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together

If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

----

Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.

Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.

The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.

Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.

Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.

But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.

So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.

About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.

Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.

But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.

After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.

But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.

"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.

They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.

He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.

The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.

"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.

He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.

Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.

He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.

Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.

Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.

----

When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.

He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.

"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"

"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.

Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"

Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."

"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"

After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"

Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.

"No, Steve."

"Oh, the famous Steve."

Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.

And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.

"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"

"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.

Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.

As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"

Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."

Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."

Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.

Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.

Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.

Great.

Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.

Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."

Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"

Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."

Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.

Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.

Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."

"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.

Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."

And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.

Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.

Holy. Shit.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #deaf steve harrington #Good Vibrations Steddie #that's the tag for this one lmao #it's all fluff i swear #I hope you guys have as much fun reading it that I have writing it!

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wordsofwhimsy · 4 months ago

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˚｡⋆ ೀ ༘˚ Out of My Mind ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: Death, mild gore, very mild 18+ topics

Tags: Obsession, reader matches his freak

Word Count: 1,723

Synopsis: Based on this anon request! Shout out to you anon really brightened my day with that message

a/n: i was going to wait until I finished the “Shattered Affections” series but that shit’s got my ass in a stranglehold right now, so i hope y’all enjoy this in the meantime :’-)

Mark Grayson sat on the rooftop of his childhood home, legs dangling over the edge as he stared up at the stars. His usual swagger was gone, replaced with an awkward, almost pouty expression. He didn't even notice the alien ships circling above the city yet. He wasn't thinking about that. No, he was thinking about you.

He had been obsessed with you for months. Ever since the first time he saw you — no, it wasn’t a "love at first sight" thing, but you were different. Cool. Not impressed by his superhero antics, which, let’s face it, was the kind of thing that made him weak in the knees. You didn’t swoon. You didn’t chase him around for autographs. And that, that was something he couldn’t get enough of.

But of course, like any tragic, brooding superhero, life had to throw a curveball. It came in the form of a full-on alien invasion. Mark was still getting the hang of his powers, and though his aim was getting better, he was still far from perfect. And just when he thought he was on top of things, the alien ships attacked your neighborhood. They weren’t here for small talk or to stroke his ego. No, they came to destroy, and in the chaos, you didn’t make it.

Dead. Gone. Kaput. No longer breathing. In a rather brutal way, really. And what’s worse, he didn’t even get a chance to actually do anything cool like saving you in a dramatic moment. He imagined himself swooping in and you looking at him like you had just realized you were both meant to be. Instead? Aliens ripped through the city, and by the time Mark had taken care of them, your lifeless body was all that remained.

He stared at your bloodstained hoodie and the smudged dirt on your face. His gut twisted in frustration. I never even got to talk to you. I never even asked for your number, he thought as he crushed the last alien's skull with a single punch, snapping the neck of the last invader like it was a cheap action figure. It was all over. But you were already gone.

“Yeah... I’m sure you’re really impressed now, huh?” he mumbled to himself, flying away in a huff, heart heavy with disappointment.

He stayed on the move, fighting crime, but there was a new hole in his chest that he couldn’t fill. Every time he saw someone who reminded him of you, it hurt. Even when it was just the way someone chewed gum or how they wore a jacket with that same red on it.

If Mark had to pinpoint when he started making the change of following in his father’s footsteps, it would’ve been that day.

If I want to keep people safe, I should control them. Make them listen. That’s what Dad did. He got it.

The lines between right and wrong blurred as Mark, once the hopeful and idealistic hero, slowly embraced the brutal, domineering approach of his father, Omni-Man. The streets, the cities — all of it felt like chaos, and the only way to fix it was with an iron fist. They need a leader, not a protector.

He went on a rampage, taking control of his world. Villains, heroes, civilians — all bent to his will. Any resistance was met with force. He became the tyrant he once hated, convinced that this was the only way to keep people safe.

But then, just as quickly as he'd risen through the ranks, Mark was pulled into an alternate universe by Angstrom Levy, given some directions he didn’t pay too close attention to wreak havoc in the name of destroying Invincible’s reputation.

Mark didn’t put up much of a protest outside of a few snide remarks. The promise of other universes to conquer wasn’t such a bad idea.

And even though he understood in theory that the universe he was being sent to would be nearly identical to his, it still struck him dumbly when arriving through the portal. The same skyline, the same vague something in the air that made him go, “Wait... no way.”

This is Earth, but it’s... not the same.

And then, like a gift from the universe, he saw you.

Except, well... you were different. Better. Way better.

You were standing there in a leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders, holding a bag of snacks and looking like you were about to turn up at some cosmic nightclub. Your hair? Perfectly messy in a way that made Mark wonder if you were secretly a rebellious antihero in this timeline. Maybe a vampire? Maybe some sort of badass alien yourself?

“Whoa,” Mark said, landing with a thud in front of you.

You blinked. “Can I help you?”

Mark grinned like a goofy schoolboy. “Yeah, actually... are you... are you... you?” he stammered, gesturing vaguely to the universe around him. “I mean, you’re alive, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth curling into a smile. “Pretty sure I’m breathing?” you responded sarcastically. “What’s your deal, man?”

"Deal? Oh, you know, I'm just Invincible,” he said, giving a quick flex of his arm as if that was supposed to clear everything up. "And I’m pretty sure you’re my type.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smirk. “Uh, okay? And what’s your type? Young women in spandex?”

Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, technically, yeah. But more like... you. I mean, you are definitely passing the vibe check.”

You chuckled. “Okay weirdo.”

Mark smirked, a glint of something darker flashing in his eyes. He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a low, almost menacing tone. “Trust me, babe, if I really wanted to, I could make your wildest nightmares come true. But you might actually enjoy it.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. “Don't threaten me with a good time.”

Mark grinned, eyes twinkling with a mix of challenge and excitement. “Oh, I’m not threatening you. I’m offering you a chance to have a little fun.”

You crossed your arms and smirked back. “And what did you have in mind, Invincible?”

Mark took a final step forward, completely closing the distance between you with his gaze never leaving yours. He reached up and gently ran his fingers along the side of your face, the touch light, almost teasing. But then, in a flash, he gripped your hair tightly, giving it a sharp yank, pulling your head back slightly.

You froze, stunned for a moment, the suddenness catching you off guard. But then, he saw it — a flicker of excitement in your eyes, a thrill he had only dreamed of seeing on your face.

Mark leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The weight of his grip on your hair made your pulse quicken, but the excitement building in your chest was undeniable.

"Trust me," he whispered, his voice hushed but intense, "I’ve got a long list of things I want to do with you."

You smirked, tilting your head slightly, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Well, what are you waiting for, then?" you taunted, your heart beating a little faster now. You were no stranger to danger — and something about Mark’s dark, chaotic energy was drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I can’t wait to make you regret asking that," he murmured, before his lips suddenly crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, intense, and it caught you off guard at first, but the heat of it made your heart race. You hesitated for only a moment before responding, your body instinctively leaning into his.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his suit – too tight to actually get any sort of grip on it – as you kissed him back with the same urgency. His lips moved against yours, hungry and insistent, and you matched him, your own passion igniting. Every brush of his lips, every soft tug at your hair, sent a thrill racing through you, and soon, you were lost in it, no longer thinking, just feeling.

The kiss deepened, becoming more desperate, as if neither of you wanted to pull away. His hands roamed to your back, pulling you even closer, while yours slid around his neck, fingers tangling in his streak of hair.

You hadn’t even realized at first that you were no longer standing on solid ground. The only thing that existed was the kiss, the feeling of his hands on you, the way your bodies fit together. But then, Mark broke away just slightly, his lips lingering above yours, and suddenly you noticed the change. The weightlessness of the air hit you all at once, your heart skipping a beat as you pulled away, blinking in confusion. You were floating high above the city, the skyline below now a mere speck of lights, the ground far out of reach.

Before you could even gather your thoughts, Mark’s hands shifted, guiding you as he gently laid himself horizontally in the air, positioning you to sit on his hips as he floated effortlessly. You gasped, a flicker of panic rising in your chest at the height, but the fear only seemed to heighten the thrill running through your veins.

Mark’s smirk widened as he glanced up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “What’s wrong?” he teased, his voice low and seductive. “I thought you were ready for this.”

You swallowed, the mix of fear and exhilaration twisting inside you. But you weren’t about to back down. “I am,” you said, your voice confident, a sly grin tugging at your lips. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

#invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fanfic #mark grayson smut #invincible smut

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nottswitch · 8 months ago

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— if you’ve been naughty, you get…

───────────── 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐫. ─

summary: it only takes one right wrong person and one right door to realize why you should stop the habit of changing in your brother’s dorm.

pairing: brother’s bsf!lorenzo berkshire x nott!reader

cw: 18+ smut, brother’s bsf, voyerism, rough p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, choking with a belt, restraining, degrading, cursing

wc: 2.4k

a/n: enzo lovers unite for the filth including the cheekiest shit in the entirety of hogwarts <3

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; enzo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

────────────────────────

Over the years of studying at Hogwarts, your older brother’s dorm virtually became your own. At first, Theo was more than simply irritated about you shamelessly occupying his space, because scrunchies and feminine perfume happened to be a major turn-off for the countless girls he usually brought to his bed. But over time, he made peace with the fact that your clothes always ended up mixed with his in the wardrobe, your makeup cluttered his bedside table and your textbooks were shamelessly laid out on his desk. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, anyway.

There was another person, however, who wasn’t against your presence in the dorm at all – Lorenzo Berkshire, one of Theo’s best friends, his roommate, and the biggest asshole Hogwarts had ever seen.

It was pretty damn hard, knowing what was on his mind most of the time. One day, he would smirk at you and let his eyes shamelessly roam all over your body in a way that made his gaze feel like flaming hot iron. And the next day, he would completely ignore you, not even turning his head to look when you walked into the room, making you question your own sanity – did you offend him? Did you do something that made him deem you unworthy of his attention all of a sudden? The cycle continued, hot, cold, then hot again, very rarely pulling you out, but mostly – in. You knew full well that Theo would obliterate both of you if something ever happened, but this knowledge only made Lorenzo more desirable in your eyes. The more of a dickhead he became, the more you felt drawn to him, as fucked up as you realized it was.

The guys were all out to get some drinks at Three Broomsticks when you decided to use Theo’s dorm as your personal walk-in closet, knowing that it would be free for at least a couple of hours. You were planning to take a look at your Christmas party outfit that you had just bought last weekend – you wanted it to remain a surprise for your roommates, which was why you decided to go to Theo’s in the first place. Standing in front of the mirror, you took off your top first, then you skirt, letting yourself have a little show for your own amusement before putting on anything else.

Lorenzo was confused as to why the door to the dorm was open. He left his wallet on his bedside table and was just about to mutter an ‘Alohomora’ when he noticed the handle slightly turned – it was loose already, so it was pretty easy to see when it wasn’t in the right position. He peeked inside and nearly choked on his own spit – the last thing he expected to see was you in front of the mirror, only your panties barely covering anything on your body, leaving every single inch of exposed skin for his eyes to feast on. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t lie – it was something he imagined plenty of nights, behind the closed curtains of his bed, with his aching dick in his hand.

His eyes followed the bounce of your tits as you twirled around, checking yourself out in the reflection. Immediately, Lorenzo felt his cock twitch in his trousers; it was ridiculous how quickly you could get him harder than a rock even dressed – of course, now that you were almost fully naked, he felt his barely existing self-control fly out of the window. You squeezed your breasts, pushing them together, and it took Lorenzo everything he had in him not to audibly groan and announce his presence earlier than planned.

Unaware of someone’s gaze intently fixed on your body, you finally grabbed the dress you had in mind for the upcoming Christmas party. It was a tiny little Santa’s elf dress, green and so short it was bordering on inappropriate. As you pulled it over your head, you knew Theo would not be pleased when he’d see it – but you didn’t care, you weren’t a child, after all. The sight of the hem of the dress hugging your ass sent Lorenzo’s mind into places he didn’t even know were there yet, and his cock started painfully throbbing, begging to be released from the suddenly tight confines of his clothes. When you bent over, your panties peeking from underneath the dress, he snapped – the sight was too arousing, clouding his mind and better judgment (that he never possessed in the first place).

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I wonder what Nott’s gonna say about that.”

The squeal you let out at the unexpected familiar voice behind your back could rival horror movies. You quickly turned around, covering your cleavage with your hand – a pretty pointless move, because he’d have seen you at the party anyway.

“Enzo!” you exclaimed, looking him up and down with a frown. Your eyes lingered on his crotch, the dark fabric of his pants visibly strained, and swallowed – just how big– “Wait.”

Realization dawned upon you like a wave of boiling water. He had a very obvious boner, which meant… It couldn’t have, right? You hesitantly looked up at his face, and his widening smirk told you everything you dreaded – or were excited – to know.

“Wait what?” Lorenzo teased, taking a few slow, lazy steps towards you. It was completely intentional – no matter how much he craved your closeness at the moment, he couldn’t have let you have the upper hand in this situation.

“You know what I mean,” you grumbled, trying to ignore the heat in your belly that his shameless arousal was starting to elicit. “Have you…?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, not a hint of embarrassment in his voice. His eyes traveled up and down, as if he was trying to mentally undress you with the power of his mind. “A slutty little thing you are. Who would’ve thought, huh?”

“Oh, piss off.” You scowled at him, one of your hands desperately trying to pull down the hem of your dress; there was no way you could do it due to its length being so damn short. “You have ten seconds to leave,” you added, raising an eyebrow in an attempt at defiance. You didn’t want him to, but there was no way you could let him know that – he was getting too cocky already, if that was even possible – his arrogance knew no bounds at the best of times, and now was definitely not one of those.

Lorenzo just chuckled, taking another step closer until he was almost flush against your front.

“Come on, sweetie. You don’t really want me to leave, do you?” he cooed, his tone as mocking as it always was when he thought he could see right through you. To be fair, he could, at least right at this moment – your own state of desire was written all over your face, despite you trying to hide it to the best of your ability.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you felt his hand on yours, gripping your wrist and moving it away from your cleavage.

“Now, show me those pretty tits of yours,” he murmured, his tongue darting out to lick along his bottom lip as his eyes fell on your tits, hugged by the dress in a way that nearly made his cock burst out of his trousers.

“Shut up,” you retorted, but made no move to cover yourself again, silently enjoying the hunger etched into his expression, mixing with the teasing confidence he consistently sported.

“Yeah? Wanna make me?” Lorenzo taunted, glancing up at you with the look that told you he didn’t really believe you could. Taking it up as a challenge, you gathered your courage – it wasn’t something you’d ever have expected yourself to do, yet had been craving for as long as you remembered knowing him – and pulled him in by the lapels of his shirt, crashing your lips together.

The kiss was as messy as it was desperate, Lorenzo’s hands immediately going up to grab your face, squishing your cheeks without a hint of tenderness in his touch – it was all fervor and passion. He urgently walked you back until your lower back hit the edge of the desk, making you hiss into his mouth. He pulled away for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the sudden sound, a smirk tugging at his now-swollen, kiss-bruised lip.

“You’re so damn sensitive,” he drawled, his tongue briefly rolling against the inside of his cheek. “Wonder what kinda different sounds you can make, sweet thing.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesy, mocking nickname, tugging at his shirt to press your lips together again – he was much more bearable when he shut up for a second. You felt him chuckle into your mouth, the sound as annoying as it was a huge turn-on.

“Theo’s gonna find out,” you whispered, your words cut off by a moan stretching out your throat when you felt his lips moving down to your neck, a wet trail dripping down your skin from his tongue.

“Yeah? And who’s gonna tell him? You?” Lorenzo asked with a scoff, not leaving the crook of your shoulder.

“What if I do?”

Lorenzo shook his head, finally lifting his head up to look into your eyes, noticing that gleam of defiance he hated and loved at the same time.

“You’re gonna tell him, really?”

His words were accompanied by him turning you around in one swift movement, fully pressing you against the desk. You let out a high-pitched moan when you felt his throbbing cock against your ass, his hips bucking forward to provide himself with the friction he needed to relieve the buzzing ache.

“Gonna tell your brother how I fucked you in this slutty dress?” Another taunt, and you knew he was right – you’d have to be completely out of your mind to say a single word to Theo about what was happening and what was inevitably about to happen in a minute or two.

Your silence was telling, making Lorenzo chuckle again. “Thought so,” he murmured, his hands deftly unbuckling his belt – he didn’t have much time until the others would notice his prolonged absence, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity to make a mess of you go to waste.

“Berkshire, you’re a fucking–”

Once again, you were cut off, but this time almost literally – the leather of Lorenzo’s belt pressed against your throat, making you stutter and let out a strangled gasp as you felt the air being stuffed inside and pushed out at the same time, stuck in your chest.

“’Boutta say something, love?” he whispered into your ear, his tongue tracing the shell of it and making the skin – and your pussy – tingle. You shook your head – what could you even possibly say when his belt was firmly wrapped around your neck, making your mind dizzy both from desire and the lack of oxygen.

“Right, keep it that way.”

The urge to punch him in the face was strong, but stronger was the thrust which he entered you with. Your moan was strangled, quieter than it could’ve been, but it only seemed to please Lorenzo, evident by the way his belt tightened around your throat. His hand held onto its edges, keeping your upper body from falling onto the desk, while his other hand collected your wrists into his grasp, pressing them against your lower back. You couldn’t move in this position, but it wasn’t like you wanted to – his pace was steady and pretty rough, hitting all the right spots to drive you completely insane. A thought went through your mind: you’d imagined him being big so many times, yet the real thing was so much better than anything your brain could conjure up.

As if sensing your inner turmoil – or the lack of it, since you had a rather one track mind at the moment – Enzo briefly let go of your wrists to land a smack against your ass, the skirt of your dress rippling at the impact. You gasped again, the sting sending a lightning strike straight into your gut, making the dickhead smirk in utter self-satisfaction.

“Such a greedy little elf,” he cooed, clearly making a jab at your outfit. Your now free hand pushed back, trying to smack his forearm in response, but only the tips of your nails could reach it. Lorenzo barked out a laugh, amused by your helplessness even while being balls deep inside of you.

“Santa’s little helper,” he continued, smacking your asscheek again before gathering your naughty wrists in his hold once more, pressing them even further against your back. “You sure seem to be doing a good job at helping, sweetie.”

“I wanna… kill you…” you muttered through gritted teeth, somehow managing to croak out sounds despite the pressure of the belt still on your throat. Your eyes rolled back immediately after as Enzo snapped his hips to yours in an especially brutal thrust, the sound echoing through the entire dorm.

“If that’s ‘wanting to kill me’,” he mockingly copied your tone, “I wonder what ‘loving’ feels like.”

“Never gonna know,” you quipped, your hands clenching around the wrist holding them down. Your answer only made him scoff, his pace increasing, as if to punish you for what you had just dared to say.

“Never gonna need to,” he responded a bit breathlessly, making a part of your brain spark up at the fact that he was losing his cocky demeanor, even if just for a second, even if the only indication was a hitch of his breath.

You didn’t catch the exact moment your peak approached – you were unable to follow the pacing of time even if you really tried. The only thing you felt was Lorenzo’s cock twitching between your walls, bringing you right over the edge. Your lips parted in a needy, hoarse moan as your orgasm brought you higher than the sky itself, and Enzo pulled out, his hand sliding off your wrists to hastily stroke his cock and spill all over the hem and back of your dress. As his grip on the belt loosened, you could turn your spinning head to notice the green fabric covered in dark stains, already seeping through and onto your skin.

“What the fuck, Berkshire?!” you exclaimed, your voice raspy from the oxygen rapidly flowing into your previously restrained airways, making you cough a bit. “That’s a new dress, you asshole!”

“What can I say, sweetie…” His hand landed on your ass with one last smack, lighter than the previous ones. “Gotta do some laundry now. Nothing a slutty little Santa’s helper can’t handle.”

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hurtspideyparker · 24 days ago

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HarleyPeter Tiktok Famous Era

Harley and Peter doing the "my name is Pink and I'm really glad to meet you" tiktok trend and the "recommended to me by some people" part is being Tony Stark's intern and the kid who fought crime with Tony when everyone thought he was dead

They absolutely blow up on tiktok and everyone is asking about Tony and telling them to "prove it", and of course they can't be normal about it

Harley uploads a video of him terrorizing Tony with a modified potato gun, in which he nearly takes Tony's head off and instead blows a hole straight through his computer monitor. You can hear Harley laughing to death behind the camera while Dum-E fire extinguishes Tony, who's swearing like a sailor

All the comments are like "wow I can't believe you made IRON MAN seem uncool, I respect your meddlesome game"

Peter just uploads his dorky Stark Internship photos of him and Tony holding the diploma they made for May. The comments all joke about "I wonder which one is getting paid" "I wonder which one has to report to HR" "one of these things is not like the other"

They continually get millions of views and questions though, so they keep the content going

Mostly them misusing lab equipment, pranking Tony, telling stories. They seem like a couple of dumb teenage boys messing with their mentor, and some of the more judgemental people send hate comments about how unworthy they are to be at Stark Industries, to work with Tony Stark, to have access to these opportunities if they're not doing anything useful with their lives and are just a couple of brats. Harley laughs them off, but Peter seems really upset about being called stupid and ungrateful. Maybe Mr. Stark is just putting up with him since he likes Spider-Man, or maybe he should be doing better things with his time

Harley notices and decides to secretly film a real what they do in a day video. Peter is respectful and eager around Tony, and matches his wit and intelligence perfectly. They move perfectly in sync, speaking in technical jargon that even Harley struggles to keep up with. He films Peter running advanced chemical reactions and jotting down formulas in what seems like a foreign language. He discusses anti-air pollution technology, and medical equipment with more cost effective materials, and even nanotechnology (Harley has to mute things before he leaks industry secrets)

Peter is so focused he doesn't eat the food Harley sets in front of him until Tony comes over and shoves it in his face (affectionately)

It shows how hardworking, determined, and intelligent Peter really is. The comments are all a bit surprised, while others defend Peter "you really thought just any numb nut would be able to work directly with THE Tony Stark????"

Peter tears up a bit reading all the positive comments and validation, and gives Harley a big hug (their first hug since they recently became friends).

Maybe a Part 2 with friends to lovers parkner? Their followers shipping it and making them nervous around each other 👀 Tony either disapproving or plotting to get them together 🤔

#peter parker #harley keener #irondad #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #marvel #mcu #parkner

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apple4me · 30 days ago

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Peter meets Tony Stark at one of the charity events for cancer, he came with Aunt May bc she can't leave him alone at the apartment. Peter sticks to the corners with his book and lets his aunt work,

When someone sits next to him the guy has a sick heartbeat, "Are you here with someone?" The dude asked, it wasn't weird he wasn't the first one to sit next to Peter and start a conversation, "Yeah, I'm here with my aunt"

"Huh" Peter could tell that the guy was looking at his badge and mumbled 'Peter Parker' " That hottie is your aunt? " he couldn't exactly see the guy's face but his senses drew a good picture in his mind, "I'd appreciate if you don't call her that" Peter cringed mentally.

"Do I get to know your name or do you prefer to stay mysterious? " The man was taken aback at Peter's statement "You don't know who I am? You've never seen my face? "

Peter giggled he likes it when someone mentions seeing "Well I don't know if I have because I can't see it right now" It was seconds of silence between them he could feel the realization sink in "I'm sorry kid"

He said first and cleared his throat "My name is Tony" He smiled "Nice meeting you Tony" Tony offered a smile but let it fall when he realized Peter can't see it "What are you reading kid?" "Electric Engineering by Allan R. Hambley" he answered simply, it is one of the only books he found in the library with braille "and you understand it? " "Of course I do why would I be reading it then?"

Everyone asked him the same question yet it still upsets him, Somehow they started a conversation about electrical engineering, it was fun and Peter doesn't always get to talk freely about science stuff without seeming like he is showing off.

He didn't feel the time and he didn't even notice his aunt approaching, " Peter-" she cut herself off her heart raised nervously "my god Mr.Stark we've been looking for you!" Peter's head became empty for a second piecing together information, His first name is Tony and his last is Stark which makes him Tony Stark but he can't be Tony Stark because Tony Stark is Tony Stark.

Peter can't see but his head snapped in Tony's direction anyway, Tony got up and smirked at the boy's reaction "Good talk kiddo" he said and ruffled Peter's hair."You can lead the way, Mrs Parker" She nodded at him but hesitated for a second "If you don't mind" she pointed at Peter "take your time"

May got closer to him and put a bag in his hands "This is some snacks, this will be the last event for us I got permission to go home early okay? " He fixed his hair while talking, he nodded and smiled "Okay" She walked away he could hear Tony talking to her 'You've got a brilliant kid' his aunt smiled and started complimenting him.

The second time Peter meets Tony Stark it was an accident, he was walking in the streets when he heard his heartbeat he was close, but the thing is Tony wasn't alone, he was with Captain America, you might ask how did he know, and Peter would simply say that he heard Tony call him super hearing and all.

Peter was so focused on Tony that he didn't notice where he was going, he bumped into someone and that someone was in a very good mood " Watch where you're going idiot" he said after pushing Peter making him fall on his butt.

He groaned in pain he could feel his hand had been scratched, he had worse for sure but pain is pain anyway.

"Hay! What is wrong with you?" Peter didn't even know when Tony had made it next to him helping him stand, the guy didn't wait to apologize to Peter, and he was grateful for it he didn't want to cause a scene.

"You okay kid?" He heard Tony say, he couldn't help but smile It's Iron Man after all his childhood superhero "Hello Tony" he could tell he surprised him by the fact he recognized him "Hello Pete" he could hear the smile in Tony's voice.

"Here you go, son" he heard another voice from his left he could guess it was Captain America he extended his hand but he didn't know what was it until he heard the juggling of his bag and stick Keychain when Tony grabbed it for him (he is still getting used to whole counting on his hearing thing).

"Thank you," he said politely as Tony helped him get the bag on his shoulders and put the stick in his hand It was a bit embarrassing, especially with the feeling Captain America staring at his face, he lowered his head feeling uncomfortable.

"Are you guys here to catch bad guys? " Peter can't lie he was curious and excited to know "Wouldn't you like to know?" Tony said as he slipped glasses on his face, Peter pouted at the answer making Tony chuckle in response.

"We could help you get home, son, it's a bit crowded today," Captain America said, Peter can't believe he is talking to him "Ever heard of stranger danger?" Okay, he might be a fan to them but he is still himself he has to sass them a little.

"Don't worry kid we don't kidnap kids with science puns on their t-shirts" Tony said "but those are the best kind of kids" he protested.

He could hear Tony rolling his eyes (it is gross) "Come on let's get you home to Aunt Hottie"

"Don't call her that!" He sighed when he realized that his frustration was only making Tony pleased "It's a ten-minute walk that way" Peter said as he pointed in the direction, Tony took his hand and made him grab his arm, he folded the cane and leaned on Tony.

He didn't need it really he can walk just fine with his enhanced senses but to keep his secret a secret he got to use it.

They chatted with him while walking him, and he could tell they reached the apartment building before they asked about it, "Well kid here we are" Tony said to him as he let Peter's hand go, and Peter remembered when he didn't hear the sound of the elevator, it is down and Peter had a problem, he still can't figure out how to go up the stairs blind and with enhanced sense and he doesn't know why.

"Uhmm, could you help me one more time?" He was embarrassed "Of course Peter what's up?" Captain America said

"Can you help me up the stairs? The elevator is broken" his voice came out small and shy and he hated it

_____

Okay guys seriously if this is good I would post the fic on AO3

#peter parker #iron dad and spider son #irondad #tony stark #incorrect irondad and spiderson #iron dad #aunt may #may parker #fanfic

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 9 months ago

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DISEASE- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Peter x Fem! Reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: You and your friend group head up to Peters infamious ski lodge weekend getaway, the same as every year. Except this year, theres tension in the air, and a masked man on the loose. Your actions have consequences....

(UNTIL DAWN INSPIRED) (but u dont need to play the game to read:) )

Warnings: SMUT, lowkey darkish peter, dumbification kink, mocking, size kink, fingering, teasing, creampie, swearing, foreplay? (peter gets off on y/n getting scared), mentions of booze and implications of torture

Notes: since the revamped verison of until dawn came out my obsession has came back full force, so i wrote a fic with marvel characters as if they were in until dawn! i wrote this in one sitting lol. its not lore accurate but..love josh washington.. so of course peter must be him....

"could play the doctor, i can cure your disease/ if you were a sinner, i could make you believe/ lay you down like one, two, three/ eyes roll back in ecstasy/ i can smell your sickness, i can cure ya/ cure your disease"- disease, lady gaga

You stared in dismay at the thin piece of paper that fluttered in the wind, barely clinging to the large iron gate by a thin piece of tape.

“Gate Broken. Climb over. -Steve”

Taking a breath, you gathered your wits about you, grumbling the whole way over to the side of the wall where the stone sides had started to crumble, giving you access to climb up and over. This was not the way you wanted to start your weekend getaway at Peters lodge, but it seemed you had no choice.

First your bus was late due to black ice, then your bag had dropped in the deep snow, the fabric dripping cold drips of water down your thin jacket. And now this.

Would anything go right this weekend?

You were nervous. You hadn’t seen the group in over a year, but once Peter had sent a text to the group, everyone had been quick to respond. You were excited to be back but also… anxious.

It had been a while since you had been here and what happened last time…

Your fingers stung as the stone dug into your palms, and you huffed chilled air as you tossed yourself over, feet tingling as you landed with an oomph. It wasn't far now to the ski lift. You’d be out of this cold, haunting forest soon enough, surrounded by your friends' warmth.

Especially Peter's warmth, a little voice in the back of your head chimed.

The longer you thought of him, the warmer your cheeks became, making your breaths turn to startled pants in the deep snow. You and Peter had been friends since the first year of college, which he then introduced you to the rest of the group.

Bucky, who had been Peter's best friend since childhood, Steve- the big flirt (not nearly as bad as Peter though), Natasha- who was Bucky's girlfriend, Wanda, her friend Matt, and Loki.

All of them had been welcoming to you, making you feel right at home as if you had been friends with them for years. But when things got out of hand last year at the lodge, when Peter's sister went missing… it was distant.

You had pushed that memory as far back as you could, so whenever you tried to conjure it to the surface it was murky. A prank had gone wrong, despite you begging to the group to end it- Peter passed out on the couch.

His sister had been so in love with Bucky and well…

You watched the lift inch towards you, the doors swinging open with a loud clang. You closed your eyes in prayer that this car wouldn't snap with you inside, the old thing barely inching faster than a snail's pace.

Surely if the Parkers were rich, they did maintenance checks regularly? You doubted it.

The glass inside was foggy, and you traced a heart on the window pane as you started to trudge up Blackwood Mountain. The scenery was beautiful, the sun starting to become covered by rolling clouds, the snow coating the trees below- but all you could think of was Peter.

You had always had a crush on him but recently it had turned dangerous. All you could think of was him. Ever since he had sent that text to the group, it was like a switch in your body had snapped. Like you were reminded- “oh shit, yes, yes I do like this man”.

And no amount of time or distance would change that.

Wanda and Natasha had always teased you, insisting Peter liked you back- but he flirts with everyone. You refused to believe it, not wanting to give your hopes up… in case they were playing a prank on you.

You couldn't help but worry about him though, with everything that had happened. You hoped he didn't resent anyone for what had happened that night.

You wished you could've stopped it, could've been there to wake him…

The car jutted to a stop and rocked back and forth, the door remaining shut. Oh fuck. You peered your head through the window in the door and saw Wanda with Matt, waiting at the stop. You banged on the door, snapping their attention over to you with a start.

“Could you open this? I'm uh.. Kinda stuck.”

Wanda laughed as she walked over to you, banging on the door before pressing the old button that took several seconds to work. Finally the doors swung open, leaving a loud creaking sound in their wake that echoed off the mountains.

“What, you didn't want to see us so you stayed in the car?” Matt called, a smirk on his lips as Wanda wrapped her arms around you, grasping you in a comforting embrace.

“Oooh I missed you girl! It's been so long since we've been back.” she smiled softly as Matt hugged you, taking the soaking backpack from your back. “I missed you guys too. Is anyone else here?”

“Everyone now I think. It's almost night-time, so I’m sure they're all waiting at the lodge for us.”

You bit your lip, nodding solemnly.

“Were you guys waiting long? Sorry, you didn't have to or anything, my bus was super late and the gate was broken…”

“What no! It's all good girl, Matt didn't mean anything by it. We’re just all so excited to see you.”

“Especially Peter.” Matt laughed, and you put your head in your hands.

“Maybe he’ll warm you up Y/N, since it's so cold out here.” Wanda winked, making you giggle. “Well, let's hope he can warm my freezing buns up.” you snorted, earning a pat on the back from Matt.

“Atta girl. Maybe we’ll all get lucky tonight.” he said, and you flickered your eyes over to catch Wanda blushing deeply.

Wait.. were they? You didn't push it. You'd find out as the night went on.

Who knew what had happened in that year, maybe things had changed. You didn't have much time to think about it before you arrived at the lodge's entrance, warm light glowing from inside.

“You get the easy treatment. I heard Bucky and Peter had to break in and unmelt the lock.” Matt grimaced, and you couldn't help but laugh as you imagined Bucky falling flat on his ass through the window.

“Jesus. You guys just needed me here, I could have warmed the lock up with my hotness.”

“Damn straight bitch!” Wanda laughed as she unlatched the door, letting the warmth wash over your frozen bones. An eruption of cheers sounded from the blazing fireplace, drinks opened on the ground.

“She made it!” Steve called, rushing over to give you a bear hug, practically picking you up and swinging you around like a rag doll.

“Oh fuck youre freezing. Did you walk all the way up here?! Is that why you're late?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, my bus was late. I’m so sorry guys.”

“We thought you forgot about us.” Peter smirked, boyish charm radiating off of him, a lint in his eyes as he walked over to you, towering over you.

“Hi. I'm so sorry Peter, I swear-"

" I'm kidding you. Cmere.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso, breathing in his scent of musk and amber, his skin like fire compared to yours. “Fuck Steve was right. Shit, come sit by the fire.” he urged, and as if on cue, you shivered.

He helped you peel your cold layers off your body, hanging up your coat to dry. Bucky gave you a taste of his warm whisky, immediately making you splutter and grimace at the strong, overpowering taste.

Jokes were tossed around, and you found yourself in an easy rhythm with the group, as if nothing had ever happened. You looked to Peter in reassurance, already finding his eyes staring you down when you met his. He studied you as you talked to Natasha, drinking you in.

You tried to keep your composure, but the butterflies churned in your chest.

“Did you want to take a warm bath?” Peter asked, everyone turning to look at you as you shivered again.

“No, no it's okay Peter. Thank you though.”

“Are you sure? You're still freezing.” Loki nudged you with his leg from where he stretched out on the couch. Everyone looked at you with concern, Peter most of all.

“Okay maybe that would be nice. But that wont take away from what we're doing? I don't wanna just leave you guys.” you frowned.

“What?! No! Matt and I were gonna go for a walk around anyways, and I'm pretty sure Bucky, Loki and Steve wanted to dig out some spirit board anyways. Go take a bath and warm up, okay?” Wanda smiled softly at you, urging you to go with Peter.

“I just have to turn on the hot water.” He said, making his way over to the basement door. “I can come with you.” you offered.

“You sure? It's cold and dark.” You shrugged, honestly just wanting more time with Peter. “It's my bath, and I hear I’m pretty good at holding a flashlight.”

He laughed, tossing you his light. “Flashlight duty it is then.”

You followed him through the dark passageway, old stairs creaking under your weight as the little spotlight guided you onwards. The door slammed behind you with a slam, making you jump.

“Sorry, that always slams like that. This place is old as dirt.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shivered, not only from the cold but how eerie it was.

“Man, it's creepy down here.” you noted as you finally reached the crypt, barely being able to see anything but dark shadows in the far distance. “What, you can't handle a little cobwebs?” he teased, shooting you a wink as he made his way over to the pipes.

You followed him, giving him a playful smack across his solid bicep, aiming the light where he navigated. It was quiet all but the drip of water on the concrete concrete floor, and your heavy breaths.

“Peter?”

“Hm?” You started fidgeting nervously.

“Are- are you doing okay? I mean, with everything? Today was a hard day, so I just…”

“I’m okay. I just… can't think about it for too long, ya know? But I wanted us all together to celebrate. To take our minds off of it.” he shrugged, switching on the hot water at last.

“I understand. And, thank you for inviting me Peter. I really appreciate it, and if you need anything at all… we’re all here for you.” you softly smiled, sensing his pain and vulnerability.

“I know. And between you and me, I wish I could have only invited you.” he winked, hand reaching up as if he wanted to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he caught himself.

There were the flirty comments again.

“You’re really sweet Y/N. You’ve been what I’ve needed this year, ya know? Just the thought of you is enough to cheer me up. I’m really happy you could make it.”

You felt your cheeks start to heat under his gaze. You knew he had been in therapy for some time now, and you hoped the sessions helped him. You always thought maybe you could fix him, not that he needed to be fixed. He wasn't broken, he was just…

A loud bang sounded from the corner of the room and you jumped, instinctive leaning into Peter. “What was that?” you croaked quietly, flashlight starting to shake.

“I have no fuckin idea.” he murmmed, stepping in front of you, as if he was to shield you. “Should we.. Should we check it out? Maybe it's an old pipe or something?”

“Old pipes don't make that noise.”

You gulped. Suddenly, something lunged for you and you screamed, clinging to Peter's bicep as you two started to bolt towards the stairs, and you nearly tripped up them as the shadow rushed at you.

Stumbling up the stairs you almost made it to the door before you could hear laughing.

“Hah! You just got Bunked! Get it, like punked? But I did it, so it's Bunked.” Bucky howled with laughter as he tugged the dark sheet off his body. Peter chuckled along with him, but your eyes nearly popped from their sockets.

“You- well you fucking dick!” you screamed, stomping down the rickety steps to give him a peace of your mind. Smacking his chest you growled.

“What the fuck were you doing?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” you snarled, pawing at him with closed fists.

“Hey, hey I’m sorry okay! We always do pranks here. I had to, because of tradition.”

“Did you know about this?”

Peter rolled his eyes, moving closer to you. “Nope, but you're cute when you're scared. Don't act like you weren't clinging onto my bicep like a monkey just then.” Peter smirked coyly, winking.

“You're both dicks.” Peter mock gasped, turning to Bucky with eyes wide in bewilderment. “You hear that Buck? She thinks we’re dicks! Guess my chances of getting some are slim.” he snickered as you trotted up the stairs, giving them an eye roll before escaping back out into the main room.

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You weren't sure how long you stayed in the bath, but the water was cold. You woke with a start, eyes fluttering open as the chill sent little shocks down your body.

You must have fallen asleep in the tub, the night darker than ever.

A little candle flickered on the vanity, and you grabbed it as you wrapped yourself up in a towel, wet footsteps trotting across the hardwood floors. It was dead quiet in the lodge, not an echo of chatter from the main room. You knew people had probably gone exploring, or gone to sleep but this was eerily quiet.

Something felt off. Something was wrong.

“Guys? Hello?” you peered your head out and saw nothing but an empty hallway. With only the candle to lead you on your way, you slowly padded down the hall, poking your head into empty rooms.

“Was I really asleep that long?” you murmured to yourself as you finally found your room where Matt had dropped off your bag near the freshly made bed.

It was uncomfortably large the lodge, and you constantly felt a set of eyes following your frame. You set the candle down, shutting the door behind you as you went to rub your pjs.

If this was another prank they were playing… you would be pissed. Once was enough for the night. God knows you needed another heart attack.

Humming to yourself, you bent down to grab your lace panties from your bag, turning around only to scream.

A large man towered by the doorway, lingering in the darkness, body hidden in heavy overalls, gloves adorning his hands- a mask on his face.

You nearly dropped your towel, backing up and falling onto the bed. Scream dying in your throat as he got to you in two large strides, gloved hand covering your mouth as the other scooped you up, backside pressed against his large frame.

You whimpered into the leather, hot, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. “Please don't hurt me, please. Please..” you cried, muffled in his glove.

“You’re so pretty when you're scared, baby. You promise you won't scream if I remove my hand?”

You nodded frantically, willing to do anything this stranger told you to save yourself. You hiccuped on your sobs as he slowly removed his hand, instead allowing it to come up and stroke your hair gently as you cried in his arms.

“Shh, shh baby. Not a word okay?” the distorted voice asked and you nodded again, too scared to make a peep.

“You’re so, so pretty when you cry baby. You know that? You’re so hot when you’re scared. The way you held my bicep earlier? Just wanted to pick you up and pound your little body, fuck.”

Realisation dawned on you, eyes widening in shock.

“P-peter?” His arm let go and you stumbled onto the bed, scooting away from him as he took off the mask, revealing that glint of mischief in his eyes, that coy smirk on his lips as his tongue darted out to lick the lower one.

“What are you doing?” you asked softly. He tilted his head, studying you. “Pranking everyone else, like they did last year to us. Just thought I’d stop by to check in on you.” he smiled.

You gulped as the mask thudded to the ground. “Where is everyone else?”

“Oh they're all out. I was hoping some trauma bonding would make Wanda and Matt finally make that move, ya know? Maybe I’m doing them a favour.” he chuckled.

“But why.. Why were you dressed like that?” you asked, clutching your towel tighter to your breasts that poked out at the top as he slowly made his way closer to you.

“Just some harmless fun. Did it scare you?”

“Y-yeah.”

He pouted. “You're so pretty when you're scared. I'm sorry for making you cry sweetheart. You were just too good to resist.” he sighed, thumb brushing your tear stained cheek.

“I-its okay.” you stumbled over your words, flustered at his proximity, body growing hot at his touch and the hungry look in his eye as he stared down at you.

You squeezed your thighs together, trying to be subtle, but failing miserably. You felt your arousal leaking out of you down your thighs, and your breath was shaky.

You wanted him so bad. But what kind of sick fuck would you be for feeling this way? When he had scared you to death?

He looked you up and down, eyes lingering longer on your breasts, licking his lips hungrily.

He knew. He knew the effect he had on you.

“Now baby, tell me. Did you like that stunt I pulled just now?”

You were silent, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Did I make you flustered? Did that turn you on? Hm?” his low voice sent another pulse down your spine, and you clamped down on nothing. “Mhm.” you nodded.

His fingers gripped your chin, making you jolt with a start as he forced your eyes to meet his. “Do you like how helpless and weak you felt? Cause I did. I could do whatever I wanted to you baby, and no one would even know. It's just you and me.”

You whimpered, making him smirk. You felt yourself being backed up on the bed, Peter hovering over you as you lay flat under him.

You were his now. And fuck, if you didnt like it.

“P-peter-”

“You know how long I’ve wanted you baby? Fuck.”

“I-I wanted you too.” you confessed softly, looking up at him with doe eyes, already starting to feel your brain go fuzzy with his presence.

“Yeah? Even just then? You liked it, didn't you?”

“I.. I did like it.” you bashfully admitted, and he groaned.

“I knew you were a dirty girl. Aren't you? You want me to fuck you baby?” You nodded, hand slithering up to grasp his bicep, the way you knew he liked. He hissed, head dropping down to take a breath.

As if he was controlling himself, like an animal on a leash that threatened to snap. “So little under me. Such a cute lil thing, so breakable.” he sighed to himself as he pulled your hand away, hand lingering on your towel knot.

You met his eyes that pleaded, asking if he could go further. “M’ not breakable.” you murmured, taking his hand in yours to yank the towel loose, letting it come undone around your naked body.

He drank you in, having to reach down to adjust himself in his overalls. “We’ll see about that when I’m done with you.”

His fingers traced your smooth skin, a finger dragging down your abdomen, tapping your inner thighs, making you wiggle. “So responsive. You like when I touch you here?”

You nodded. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please touch me Peter. Please. Need you so bad it hurts, it hur-”

His fingers slid through your slick folds, rubbing your clit gently. “Shh shh that's it baby. You just sit still and I’ll take care of you, mkay? Gonna make you so dumb n helpless.” he cooed at you, your mouth parting in an o shape as his large finger slipped inside you, clenching around the digit.

“Gotta stretch you out. You’re so tight, fuck. Youre so hot, like a fuckin porn star.” Your back bowed off the bed as he worked your clit, the rough pad of his thumb taking over as he pumped two thick digits in you, curling just the way to make you moan.

“Peter, Peter f-fuck, feels so good-” you choked out, his palm splayed on your tummy to keep you from wiggling away.

“Yeah baby you gonna cum? Yeah?” he teased, his fingers slipping out at the last second, making you groan in protest, before he slammed home with his cock.

You gasped, screaming at the fullness, as he watched your face contort from pleasure to pain, back to pleasure again. Your mascara was smudged from your tears and he swore a hint of drool trickled from your lips, and fuck if it didnt turn him on even more.

“Is it too much for you honey? You gonna take it all?”

You couldn't even response, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you, snapping his hips hard and fast, letting the animal off the leash. He couldn't control himself any longer. He had wanted this for too long, and the idea of the two of you being alone, with no one around for miles made him snap his hips harder.

“Yeah you like when I fuck you? Youre so fucking slutty baby, letting some masked man fuck you. But you like it, don't you? I always knew you were a freak.” he growled, making you mewl, clinging onto him.

“Scream baby. No one can hear you.” he chuckled as he abused your cunt, the sound of skin merging with your juices making a squelching sound that mixed with your moans.

“I c-can’t, too much-” you slurred, making him cluck his tongue.

“Cum baby. Cum for me.”

That was all you needed to hear, orgasm rippling through you hard and rough as he continued to fuck you through it.

“Such a good girl. So wet, fuck. Fuck I’m gonna cum, fuck fuck Y/N, you’re so fuckin hot-” he growled, pace faltering as he reached his orgasim, shooting ropes of his sticky seed inside you.

The world was blurry, the room spinning as he stilled inside you, breathing heavily himself as he cooed down at you. “Baby? You with me?”

“Mhgm.” was all you could mutter out, body shaking and twitching from the overstimulation. “I’m gonna go clean you up okay? You gotta let go for two seconds.”

His soft, protective demeanour came back within seconds, as he slowly peeled your grip from his biceps, crescent moon shapes adorning them.

“When we’re all clean I gotta go clean some stuff up with them okay? And then we’ll have the whole place to ourselves and we can rest, pretty girl.”

567 notes · View notes

gangplanksorenji · 2 years ago

Text

Kinknuary Day 13: Uniform Kink

Pairing: NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,562

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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It’s just another goddamn stressful day that you’ll be tackling and you just can’t wait for it to end. Even teaching a class full of boisterous students sends you into a hellhole of utter stress and dismissing them is such a sigh of relief—you still show empathy and enthusiasm to teach and make them learn new things but there are just times where it’s really unbearable but you fight through it, following your moral code of conduct.

Yet one student stood out from the rest, not really because of her academic performance (in which she is already doing decently great) but, in the way she dressed that literally doesn’t follow the campus’ dress code.

As she’s about to leave and get her bangs packed and ready, you suddenly called out her name in a formal manner as you caught her attention off-guard. Of course, she rolls her eyes in subtle annoyance as her friends opted to just wait for her onto the campus’ canteen and Hanni agrees on that and averted her attention towards you.

“What is it, professor?” Hanni asks you with little-to-no-interest as wants this to end as quickly as possible as she has more endeavors to be in with.

“Ms. Pham, I would like to talk about something that I’m pretty sure you’re aware of.” Your stern demeanor intimidates Hanni as the presence of gravitas within you makes her feel a hint of nervousness, unsure on what you may talk about.

“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking about, professor?” She seems to not be cognizant about what you’re talking about as there’s multiple reasons on why you may call her out. It may seem sincere but she may act oblivious just to trick you but you could never be so sure, so you enlightened her with a fact. “Don’t you see what you’re wearing, Ms. Pham? Don’t you see that it definitely doesn’t follow the dress code of the school’s regulations.”

“Oh, I guess I’m sorry, professor. I don’t know anything about this regulation-thingy and what are you going to do about this, hm, strip it out of me, professor?”

God, this girl—Pham Hanni, yes, this girl is not the girl you don’t want to deal with. Everybody knows how bratty and stubborn she can get whenever she’s being disciplined and snapped back to her place, despite her bubbly and friendly attitude. With that iron wall that’s strong within her, you want to teach her a lesson and break it despite the possible risks and you might need to even take it a step further than the most primitive ways of disciplining students.

You let out a deep sight as silence ensues and then, you slammed hard on the desk and gave her a cold, stern gaze that startled and scared Hanni. “Don’t you dare talk to your professor this way, Ms. Pham Hanni—and I know you’re not this oblivious to not know about the school’s rules and regulations, don’t you?”

And as much as you’re having the higher authority right now, Hanni herself didn’t back down without a fight and rather provoked your inner fire that you didn’t absolutely like but your patience is staying stronger than steel, fighting through her stubborn behavior. It became continuous that the both of you are starting to argue like little kids but you still maintain your composition yet Hanni’s erupting like a volcano gone rogue right now and there’s one thing to deal with this, moreso, privately.

“Then why does it matter so much for you, professor? Just say the words and I—”

“Go to my office now, Pham Hanni.” You interrupted her with a single sentence as her heart dropped massively as fear now emanated on her eyes, as she never saw you this serious before. As much as she wants to complain or retaliate, she doesn’t want to get in any trouble or escalate this situation further so, without any choice, she packed her things and went to your office with you, of course—you need to guard her since she might immediately escape and catch you off-guard, unprepared and you don’t want that to happen.

Once you’ve reached your office, you offer her a seat as you turn on the lights and sit on your chair, ready to further talk about her annoying and frustrating behavior.

“Professor, if it’s just another dumb talk about my bitchy behav—”

“Can you just stay quiet, please?” You retort in response with her talkative antics that made you boil in anger and immediately, Hanni shuts her mouth silent and gulps nervously. “You are being a nuisance to a lot—let me repeat it again for you, a lot of professors, whether it’s your stubbornness or you just being incapable of following such simple instructions and being selfish, it’s getting out of hand.” You blow a deep breath as you’re about to tame a beast like Hanni as you’re preparing for another pointless hindrance that further makes everything go down into flames.

You’re just as puzzled as most of the people that knew her and you hate that one thing that really shows how much the professors despise her—her bratty attitude that will never fade as the boys around her fall in love with that and it’s just something wrong. As much as you don’t like her not following the dress code the school has implemented, you can’t lie and dive into your hypocrisy with the beauty that lies within her because of her aesthetically hot school uniform outfit. Of course, you won’t let your intrusive thoughts win and remain composed throughout the time being of disciplining her and making her snap back to her roots.

Yet you have a single trick up your sleeve whenever this gets out of hand, and you’re just holding onto this for a while, testing your patience.

“We don’t know what to do anymore with you so a little cooperation will be appreciated if you will just—”

“But here’s the thing, professor—” Hanni pushes the chair a little back, before standing and giving you a subtle smirk in aims to lower down your guard. “—at the end of the day, it’s not going to harm anyone and you can’t do anything with it, hah.”

“Hanni, it’s not just that—it’s all about the discipline and the control of your—”

“Oh, stop it, professor—” Hanni walks towards you as your senses heightened, absolutely flummoxed with her eager movements towards you as she’s obviously seducing you into making you fall down her spell. “—don’t tell me you don’t like how pretty I look in this outfit.”

In all means, she’s goddamn right and there’s no way on earth you would say a no but of course, you’re fighting the urge of your primal desires as you brush her approaching advancements to lure you in, retaliating and further wanting Hanni to back down even though you know that she’ll just advance without anyone to stop her.

“Stop this madness, Pham Hanni—you’re not going to—”

“I’m absolutely in this, professor—stop being a hypocrite and tell me how pretty I look with this uniform.”

It’s her accent and her saccharine voice that further doesn’t help with your defensive state against her unstoppable will. You can’t lie how perfectly beautiful she looks in this possibly-cursed uniform as every inch ultimately highlights her slender waist, her beautiful thighs and her perky mounds and you hate it. Maybe, she dressed like this for a purpose but you’re not so sure and you’re running out of time before you unshackle everything that has been caged for so long.

Knowing that hypocrisy is such utter bullshit, you finally give in a little as you start to stutter and mutter such complimentary words that Hanni catches her ears on it.

“You l-look good in this outfit, Hanni—not going to lie with you. Your curves, your thighs, it’s just perfect for you.”

Hanni finally smiles widely with her eyes drawing such crescent moons, emanating her cuteness towards you. She’s delighted to hear your sincere takes on her outfit and decided to take it a step further than ever before. Hanni then closes towards you as her hands palmed your chest, the warmth of it making you overwhelmed and excited as your heart races its beat like it’s catching something.

“I guess you want something to deal with this, right, professor? And don’t you dare say no because—” Hanni looks at your eyes endearingly with aims to further lure you onto her spell as her thick Australian accent followed by her sweet voice seduces you further, “—I can see in your eyes, professor—your pretty, black eyes says it all…” She further puts gasoline on the flames as she caresses her hands slowly on your chest, making you feel the affection and sincerity of Hanni’s eyes and because of your clever mind, you knew exactly where this is going as you fully gave in to your animalistic urges and broke apart your stern, teacher-like persona.

“I do want you, Hanni. I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re so goddamn pretty and hot.” You took some quick peeks on her impeccable features as she saw this, smiling at the fact that you’re admiring her scrumptious body and her pretty face.

“I know professor—you’re hot and pretty handsome too. You don’t know this but—” Hanni tiptoes as you slightly slouch in order for her to be in level with you as she whispers in your ear, “—I had a crush on you for a long time now, professor.”

This may sound unorthodox for you but you feel your heart beating triple its normal rate, finding Hanni’s advances wholesome and flustering. It may sound wrong as you want to unhear what Hanni just said but you can’t help yourself with your own desires and even wanting more. Knowing that Hanni’s touches are getting bolder enough for you to act up, you gently push her hands off on your chest as she pouts cutely, dejected with your retaliating advances yet she doesn’t give up, at her watch.

“Hanni—we can’t be doing this. This is just wrong, I’m sorry—”

“But professor—” Hanni lays down onto the couch as she displays herself in front of you and all you can see is an angel getting ready to be sullied. “—don’t you wanna think of something else? Like, kissing me, making me rile up or just ruining me with this goddamn uniform? Come on professor, make a girl worth her while…”

With your own desires taking over you, you can’t be bothered to really make yours unattended as her primal calls make up for your time as you were lured by her own devilish remarks. You pin her down at the couch as she yelped in response, feeling a little shocked with your aggressive actions but she never wanted you to break the heated atmosphere that has been building up as she grabbed your collar and kissed you intimately.

This is totally wrong—you said to yourself but you didn’t care anymore, not when Hanni’s plump, luscious lips are in contact with yours, sharing such an intimate kiss as the both of you find yourselves even indulging deeper and not wanting to end this so soon but speak of the devil, Hanni pulls out of the latch of your lips as she looks at you with need in her eyes. Can’t seem to really contain yourself anymore because of such a hot scene, you thought of something that will change the course of this session and will start things off incredibly well.

“Get on your knees, Hanni. I’ll probably assume you know where this will go, right?”

Getting up on the couch, Hanni eagerly obliged to your request as she knelt down in front of you with her eyebrows furrowed, a little nervous about what you may have in store. Hanni knows what you’re coming up with but she just wants everything to be confirmed by you so she didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Are you s-sure about this, professor?”

“Yes, Hanni—I am more than sure. Besides, no one will know any of this and have no secret cameras installed here anyways. Now, do your thing and impress me.”

Your tone makes her heart drop as the heat makes everything intense as your stern face intimidates her but it didn’t bother her to start her own service. Her hands trembled a bit but she didn’t care as she continued unbuckling your belt and then unbuttoning your pants as you mildly groan due to her hurried actions as her touch feels enchanting, the hotness rivaling the cold air that had permeated around the room. Even with the possible uneasiness laced in every move she does when she’s stripping you, you can’t help but be in awe of how she’s genuinely interested in what she’s doing as the lust and anticipation glistens on her dark orbs.

“Have you done this before, Hanni?”

Hanni, still busy with her current activity, takes a second before she could respond as she looks at your eyes endearingly and mutters, “Not really, professor—just on my toys though, so I had some little practice at my end.”

You scoff as you were shocked by Hanni’s dirty, little secret but you didn’t take it as a joke or way too seriously—it’s just great that she had experienced it with even a silicon toy but now, she’ll be trying the real thing and it’s just going to be better than this. Now, with your last defense left before her grand treasure, Hanni didn’t waste any time and let the feral beast inside you be unshackled from its frustrating restraints and god, Hanni’s eyes lit in awe and amazement as she gets her first treatment and a sight of such a beautiful, perfect cock.

“Professor—it looks good and thick. It feels so warm and nice on my hand too—woahh...”You can see how adventurous and how new Hanni is in these kinds of things as she’s just in full-admiration of your entire length now all for her to taste and use. You want to show some mercy with Hanni, even with her bitchy attitude that makes you want to teach her lesson, you’d still keep the feral beast inside you for now as you don’t want yourself to grow impatient, reminding Hanni on what to really do.

“Show me what those plump lips can do, Hanni—show me what they’re really made of.”

“Yes, professor…” With no time to waste, her soft flesh meets your engorged tip as she sends multiple pecks onto it, from your tip down to the base her actions immediately send waves of pleasure and it's a pandemonium of delight. Sudden surge of pleasure does course down your veins and you can’t help but let out moans that screams volumes of peak delight and gratification with the incredible work of Hanni’s lips marking every inch of your shaft with her touch and she’s barely even doing anything on your cock yet.

Well, you didn’t need to imagine anymore nor Hanni as she envelops her soft lips all over your tip, just pushing it almost the frenulum as she eagerly bobs her head and sucked onto your length like it’s favorite popsicle. With you sitting onto the couch, you may think that Hanni’s struggling a little due to the position but she shows no signs of it as she continues her masterclass of an incredible display of her talented mouth doing wonder all over your length. She definitely knows how to suck a damn cock like yours, even if she said she hasn't had a real one and just done it with her toys makes you think if she’s lying on her teeth but you didn’t mind it as you let do an incredible job between your legs. Inevitably, saliva seeps out at the side of her mouth and onto her chin due to her furious bobbing as it stains the couch and makes it a little wet—adds to the element of a messy, sloppy, and most of all, a great blowjob session.

With now taking more than half of your length everytime she thrusts her mouth on your cock, a gag can be heard resonating around the room as it’s bound to make your arousal soar higher than the heavens, and it absolutely did. She didn’t stop sucking you, moreso, even pull out quickly enough to catch her breath as she gives you the best she could deliver as she’s totally serving the dish hotter than what you expected, all of the elements coming all together in aims to reach a single goal: to make you stimulated enough to blow a healthy, thick load. With her furious bobbing onto your constantly throbbing penis, you grabbed her blonde-highlighted dark streaks as an outlet to fight the constant pleasure you’re experiencing and wanting yourself to give her a treat, you caught her off-guard by simple forcing your entire length down her throat as it hits the back of it, activating her gag reflex and immediately, she forced out of your saliva-sheathed member as she catches her breath in response.

“Wha—What w-was that professor?”

“I just wanted to feel your entire throat and if you can take it whole, Hanni—go on and continue…”

Hanni throwed a slight glare because of your sudden harsh actions towards her but she brushed it off immediately and got back onto sucking your raging length again. This time, it was better considering how she locks eye contact with you periodically, more often that earlier and with a new and a better addition, Hanni’s dainty fingers finding its way to fondle your balls for further stimulation as it became so frequent that you increase the quality and also the volume of your moans and that alone sends Hanni onto a better task at making your brain go haywire.

There’s is no absolute way that this can get any better—Hanni bobbing her up and down furiously as she gags every time she does it, saliva seeping out her mouth and staining the vicinity around her lips, her tears and makeup getting ruined because of her own harsh doings against your length, and the peak of the iceberg is herself in her uniforms which turns you on so fucking much—and there’s nothing you can ask for at this moment. Her pace is just getting ridiculous at this point that it’s all going to get out of hand soon because you’re feeling the familiar sensation growing up in your loins as you have more plans ahead for this girl as the both of you are just starting.

Well, you never knew that a girl in her uniform would make such a blowjob session thrice as hot as you’ve ever thought about and maybe, you just found yourself a new fetish.

“S-Stop, Hanni…” Your pleas fall deaf onto her ears as the sounds of her constant slurping and her sheer focus on sucking you off makes off a wall to refrain herself from any distraction. Gathering up more strength, you raise your voice in hope for her to hear you as you can feel yourself going near that high you’ve been waiting for but you don’t want it deep down her throat.

“I said stop, Pham Hanni!”

Fear took over her as she’s startled and afraid with your tone, immediately stopping and pulling out of your drool-lathered, throbbing length as connections of saliva were evident.

“Did I d-do something wrong, p-professor?” You could feel the fright laced between her words as felt bad and guilty with it, so you reassured her in the nicest way possible as you don’t want this to end so quickly and anti-climactic.

“No—I want my load to be deep in your pussy because girls like you don’t deserve a load deep down their slutty throats…”

“B-But I deserved it!”

“I won’t repeat myself, Hanni.”

You’re not wrong, by any means. If she misbehaved so badly and acted like an unbearable brat earlier, then it’s just fair making her be deprived of your seed. You commanded her to stand up as she did so, and you helped her with that and not so long after, you ordered her again to bend herself over, her hands palmed all over the wall as she gave out an excited look, Hanni anticipating what you may still have in store up your sleeve.

“Do you w-want me to strip off m-my clothing?” Like your growing fetish onto hot and petite girls in uniforms, you can’t be bothered to see her naked as two brilliant things are the reasons: one, she’s still within the school’s premises as you don’t want her to be utterly ruined and naked when the both of you are done and two, you really want to sully her with her uniforms on as it’s such an arousing sight to see her curvature and her impeccable features being complimented by her uniform. With this conclusion, you came up with a single reasoning and replied to her—

“No, I want your uniform stayed on—you’ll look better ruined with those on and look too great on that.”

Hearing this, Hanni’s lips curled up a smirk as she knew how to really turn you on right from the start. She knows her captivating and alluring aura will send down your defenses and will break your stern persona as a professor and given the fact that her in a uniform turns you on even more than what she expected, makes everything better and more arousing. Now, with her unparalleled pleas of needs towards you, you can’t help but feel yourself inching closer towards a heavenly route towards your own sin—and you’re about to take such a bold risk that will define your limits and Hanni’s and it’s all about to break down. With her petite and slender figure bent over and ready for taking, you take a moment to admire her plump cheeks and her beautifully sculpted thighs that it’s in the right amount of thickness. You caress your palm over it as your fingers slowly run over the hem of her white-laced panties, stretching it out a little in order to tease her and not for long, your deftly swiped it down to her ankles as you were met with her glistening, needy cunt that’s already dripping and you don’t know when it started.

With that desired treasure within your reach, you’re in no state to not dive into it yet your conscience fights with you but you manage to calm it down as you fully indulge on your own needs and immediately, you plunge your length in her with a harsh grip on her thighs as a leverage and god, her moans are basically the purest and the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard in your entire life—such sultriness and sweetness behind her lustful needs makes it such a great symphony to listen as rhapsodies of her delighted feelings escapes her mouth, further muttering such lovely moans that greatly fueled your lust over her.

You know this is wrong—so besmirching yet you’re at the point of no-return and just finding yourself being lured deeply into the abyss of your primal desires.

“God—p-professor—your cock—oh, it’s so big and n-nice up my tight, l-little cunt!”

“You’re t-tight as fuck too, Hanni—let me guess though—” You then inch closer towards her ear and fixed her hair as some of it falls back onto the other side as you muttered, “—you’ve tried shoving up your toys in this tight pussy, isn’t it?”

Hanni’s already at her vulnerable point as she can’t think of any articulate response rather than moaning in need yet she manages to fight through it, uttering a reply before she can let out her lustful profanities again. “Y-Yes—yes, professor! I l-love playing w-with my toys that’s why—fuck, so good!”

As you ensue such powerful yet slow thrusts, Hanni can’t help but voice out her satisfaction each time you do it as her thighs jiggling in response to your harsh movements is bringing you into a hypnotic trance. With her delectable buttcheeks being a victim of such vibrations due to your constant ramming of her cunt and with that such, you gave her a single spank that reverberated around the room and Hanni herself cried in intense pleasure because of it. With such an incredibly hot sight of Hanni in her uniform, getting railed from behind, you can’t help but make yourself unable to maintain the pace even if you wanted it slow with Hanni and you didn’t last long and gave in to your primal instincts and let your hips do the work.

Your new profound pace makes Hanni writhe as her fist forms tight curls from the constant course of pleasure running down her veins, making her stimulated enough to drip around your ravaging member and onto the floor, staining it with her own succulent juices. Your hands now averted its attention towards her shoulders and then her perky mounds in which you slowly groped, and fondled them carefully while still maintaining a breakneck pace that’s been forming such heavenly clouds of gratification that makes the best for both worlds. She lets out a series of satisfied moans, but this time, it’s more sultry and more of a whimper in your words as your intimate actions brings her closer onto her own promised land.

“Oh fuck—professor! P-Please k-keep doing—fuck, ahh—that!!”

It was the same words uttered earlier and until now, and you’ll never get tired of it and will even make her a ruined mess that can only moan such lifeless syllables full of lust. With your relentless pace and such stimulating actions onto her small mounds, you further make it worth her while as you kiss her nape and suckled onto the porcelain skin, making her feel cherished and treasured as it’s all just becoming too much for Hanni that she’s unable to control herself, vulnerable on writhing unstoppably as the quivering of thighs would be a reasonable evidence to start with.

If this is what Hanni wanted at the very start, then she’ll get what she wanted—not because she solely deserved this, yet.

“Is this what you wanted, hm, Hanni? You really decided to dress like this to lure me in—well, you fucking got it because—” You keep fucking her steady as she cries from the stimulating actions your hips has been oscillating as her tumultuous mouth letting out the most lustful profanities are coming into a halt. “—I’ll destroy this pussy and fill you up like a good fucking girl and to teach you a fucking lesson!”

With the venom laced being thrown at her, unlocking the pure devilish deeds in you and putting your merciful façade onto its unfortunate demise, you let yourself be unshackled from the restraints you’ve been cursing yourself onto and rammed her tight, wet cunt like there’s no tomorrow. You gave her nothing but a lightning pace as each thrust aims to break her in half, teaching her a lesson and as the cherry on top, to fuck that living bratty and bitchy attitude out of her. Now grabbing the tie that has been an absolute iconic element of her outfit, you used it as a collar for a leverage to further fuck her into oblivion and with this pace, it isn’t going to be long before Hanni meets the end of the line, setting herself up to the top step of absolute lust and peak quality of pleasure—the long-awaited orgasmic trance of Hanni.

You know how close she is with the constant pulsations of her pussy around your ravaging length as you muster up the fastest pace your hips can do just to chase her orgasm further and with an ear-screeching scream of ecstasy, she announces her anticipated high.

“Oh god—I’m g-gonna—fuck—gonna cum on y-your cock, professor! Holy sh—shit!”

“Do it, Pham Hanni—cum on my cock like a good, pretty girl.”

With the last string of her defense now cut down, streams and streams of her nectar flow around your cock as she catches her breath everytime she lets out rounds of such an intense orgasmic high. You didn’t stop your thrusts though, yet you slow down to give her a breather but she looks back at you, wanting you to fully ravage her tight cunt even with her current state. Marking that as a green, you further resume your frantic pace as the wet squelching of her pussy and the constant clashing of both your drenched bodies became an arousing sound to hear as it draws you further to your own peak, inching it closer yet you fight it in order to savor the tight feeling and an ecstatic clenching of her velvety walls around your throbbing shaft. You support Hanni with your muscular arms as you can see how her orgasm depleted a chunk of her energy as her hands became weak, unable to full grip onto the walls as she just became a lifeless form capable of just uttering the most erotic syllables known to man and god, it’s even drawing you closer to the edge as it stimulates you into oblivion, and can’t draw back.

Chasing your own high as you want it as soon as possible, you use her body like you have something to prove to her as you train her with the aims to derive the best pleasure out of it and Hanni’s, too. Even with the orgasm-drunken state of Hanni, she’s able to encourage you to further release in her as she wiggles her bubble butt leisurely, wanting to get off yourself too as her voice captivates you and lures you deep on your darkest, lustful desires.

“Come o-on, professor—use m-my cunt and cum i-in me—please, I w-want it! I’m s-safe so you don’t need t-to worry—ahh—a-about me!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, reluctant with that approach that you may do the unthinkable but yet find yourself thrusting harder and faster, “Are y-you sure, Hanni?”

“Yes! Yes, p-professor—so please, I w-want your load d-deep inside me…”

With Hanni’s reassurance and her further encouragement for your long-awaited release, you trust her as you give her wet, tight walls the final thrusts it deserves as she constantly clenches with your pace, unable to control herself from it as you gave in.

“God—I’m gonna cum so hard in you, Pham Hanni!”

And then, your final blow decimates the last standing defense within you as your euphorically groaned and shoot spurts and spurts of your treasured load deep inside her cunt as you bury your whole length in her, in aims to fill her up to the womb as she lets out such ecstatic moans with the warmth inside her painting every inch of her walls white with your seed. Your initial response after a mind-bending orgasm that lasted for like fifteen seconds is to pull out slowly and admire the creamy mess you made inside her emanating heat, as the both of you let out such exasperated breaths after a steamy session that no one can possibly top off. Hanni becomes weak as her legs got a little wobbly from your aggressive actions, sitting down slowly at the floor and recovering herself from the earlier euphoric trance and so did you, letting your cock soften as it twitches in need but you didn’t mind anything and take some time to recover.

“Oh my—you came so much in me, professor…” Hanni lightly laughs as it’s contagious, laughing with her and smiling right after, knowing how satisfied she is as much as you did.

“You too—I could literally feel a faucet leaking out of me when you came.” Hanni blushes from your reply as her hands come down to the hem of her panties, pulling it up as some of your semen leaked out and stained her thighs.

Awkward silence ensues right after as both parties slowly descend into recovery, catching breaths and reminiscing—maybe comprehending too—such remarkable moments throughout the intense session of such intimate sex.

“Oh gosh—well, y-you proved your point already, professor.” Your face paints a confused one as you vaguely remember what she could be talking about.

“Of what, Hanni.”

“Of teaching me a lesson, professor. Would definitely follow your orders from now on.”

You faintly smile from her possibly sarcastic ways of a response of your “discipline” but you can sense the sincerity deep within her despite her unfathomable attitude.

“You know, we should clean up and fix ourselves, Hanni.”

The both of you then hurriedly got up as you helped Hanni since her legs are weaker right now (but it’s in a state where she can still walk) thanks to your constant ramming at her cunt for like umpteenth times. The both of you fix yourselves and become more presentable and as she’s about to leave, you chat with her for a short while and then waved goodbye at each other but now, both of your faces emanate delight and comfort.

---

As Hanni is walking her way down towards her friends who've been waiting for forever, probably in the school’s canteen, she notices a small note stitched onto her backpack that says, “Thanks for that, Hanni. I’ll be calling you later for something… :)”

Knowing that it’s from you, she can’t help but smile as it went all troublesome but in the end, it all fell down onto curiosity and possibly, a stronger connection.

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