#Ask//.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ➤ Query Received

[ellecdc]

pleaseee can i request a potter!reader x barty where someone tries to hit on the reader and is pretty persistent when she’s with her friends (maybe remus, lily and reg because i feel like they’d all hang out) and then barty (and maybe james??) appears and acts as her scary dog privilege thank youu your writing is so amazing 💗💗

you sure can! thanks for the request (and your patience), I'm dusting off all my requests from the Spring hahaha <3

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who has a persistent admirer [731 words]

CW: slight harassment/not accepting no for an answer, quick defence by friends and brother and boyfriend, threats of violence

“This is getting embarrassing.” Lily muttered as she watched Gideon Prewett approach you the second you stepped into the library. 

You smiled politely enough at the sod, but clearly felt awkward as you spotted your friends waiting for you in the library, shooting them a look that clearly read “help”.

“- think we could go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” The group heard the tail end of Gideon’s sentence as the two of you got closer; or, rather, you got closer and he trailed obsessively behind you.

“Erm, that’s really nice of you, Prewett, but I’m gonna have to say no thank you.”

“Come now, Potter,” he continued easily, “I know what you’re thinking; it doesn’t have to be-”

“I would quit whilst you’re ahead, Prewett.” Remus sing-songed with a smirk as Gideon pulled your chair out for you and attempted to sit on your other side.

“And just what is that supposed to mean, Lupin?” Gideon all but sneered in reply, though he did hesitate in taking the seat.

“Hasn’t she made it clear enough she’s not interested?” Lily hissed, causing Regulus to huff a laugh.

“I say leave him to it.” He drawled in a bored manner. “It’s his funeral.”

“Is that a threat, Black?” Gideon accused at the exact moment said threat walked in.

“Hey bug!” James called loudly; appearing friendly for all intents and purposes, but the well trained eye (like that of his partner’s, one of his best friend’s and roommates, and his twin sister) could easily see the tension simmering beneath his cool facade. “S’this tosser bothering you?” 

“No…” You offered carefully, clearly not convinced in your own answer as you offered Gideon an apologetic grimace. “No, I’m alright, I just-”

“What’s going on here?” Barty demanded, appearing behind you out of nowhere like some sort of deranged poltergeist as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and glared threateningly at your persistent admirer. 

“It’s a sodding library, Junior, what do you think is going on here?” Gideon spat.

“What I think is going on here,” Barty started severely, “is that you’re making my girl uncomfortable.” 

“Is that true, Prewett?” James queried; tone about an octave higher than normal as he threw a ‘friendly’ arm over his shoulder. “Are you making my sister uncomfortable?”

“I-”

“Because I’d hate to see what kind of trouble Junior and I could get into together should we need to team up, yeah?” He asked sweetly, and Remus nearly snorted at the way the poor sods freckles stood out in stark contrast when the blood drained from his face as he looked over at Barty who was smiling at him maniacally. 

“Jeez, alright.” Gideon tried to joke, though his laugh came out rather pitchy as he shook James’ threatening hold from his shoulder. “Message received.”

But before he could take more than two steps away, Barty had him by the collar of his shirt as he brought his face inches from his own. “Next time a lady says no thank you, that’s when your message should be received. Got it?”

Gideon simply nodded quickly, and Barty offered him a smile that didn’t meet his eyes and a patronising pat on the cheek. “Good lad.”  

The group of you watched Gideon flee the library before turning back to your table. 

“Well, that was rather anticlimactic.” Regulus complained.

“What? Was baby Black hoping for more drama?” Remus taunted, earning himself a kick in the shin from his boyfriend’s younger brother. 

“If that bloke so much as sneezes anywhere near you there will be more than enough drama for baby Black.” Barty promised as he sat in the seat Gideon had tried to occupy on your other side.

“Can we maybe not call me that?” Regulus scowled; face contorted in displeasure until James pressed a kiss to his hair.

“Just name the time and place, Junior, I’ll be there.” James agreed, and you rolled your eyes at your brother and boyfriend. 

“You boys are ridiculous.” You chided, though the fact that you were leaning your head against Barty’s shoulder as he weaselled an arm around your middle severely undermined your point. 

“Mmm, maybe.” Barty allowed as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “But you love it.”

And Remus knew from the shy smile gracing your lips that you did, indeed, sort of love your more than slightly ridiculous boys.

[bookwyrminspiration]

hello so i sent you something very similar to this a few months ago but it looks like tumblr ate my og ask because i haven't seen it so i'm resending it except i don't remember my exact words so i have to rewrite it from scratch lmfao

about elves and culture: at one point i remember you mentioning offhandedly in some post that elves are all white culturally (i tried for about fifteen minutes to find it, but you know. tumblr.) which is another way the series lacks diversity (besides the obvious barely-any-non-white-people and no non-allocishet people) and i was thinking about how shannon could have even have fixed this problem because the elves are a monolith when it comes to culture. yeah, they have different races, but all the races have the same culture. so i was like. ok. how would shannon even incorporate multiple cultures into the story? how would it even be possible to show cultural diversity in a story where the elves all live in the same society? and i came up with a few ideas:

could do a mashpot, where everyone in the lost cities has bits of every single culture ever mixed into one (somehow). i have two ideas for this

mashpot option one: have the different aspects of a culture each come from different cultures (for example, clothes of one culture and the food of a different culture and traditions of the another culture and so on). putting it all together, this would create a collage-culture of sorts, which would be quite jarring, but it could be effective if done well, i think.

mashpot option two: they could have the different aspects of a culture pull from every culture ever. for example, the elves could eat foods that taste like foods from all around the world, instead of foods that just taste like american foods (as someone who hates the taste of stereotypically american food, i can say i would hate eating anything from the lost cities). or have them celebrate a variety of holidays or something across the whole year, each of which is representative of a different culture.

could have different groups of elves each have different cultures. i also have two ideas for this

different groups option one: each family line has a different culture or something like that. so you have cultural diversity through each family having a different culture and everyone being accepting of that. this could include different clothes, food, traditions, architecture, celebrations, and all that stuff (maybe not language though lmfao). this would at least be able to somewhat showcase different cultures, although it would have to have been done really half-assedly. this would also have a huge skew toward white cultures because most of the characters are white.

different groups option two: create different clans of elves, all of whom have mutual respect for each other. each clan of elves can have a different culture. this would literally be separate societies of elves. however, they could all respond to the same council, which is made of people from all the clans in the name of equality. this way, the monolithicity of the elves would be intact and while still showing some diversity of culture.

shannon makes up her own culture that is completely unlike any culture we've ever heard of, ever. equal neglect of all cultures is equality. sophie eats an umber leaf and is like "this tastes like nothing i've ever eaten before and tastes like it shouldn't even be a real food but i like it". sophie is shown their clothes and it's just a dress made out of solid, opaque crystal. their traditions involve scratching random shapes in the ground and dancing around them in a specific way. this is the chaos option.

this wouldn't really showcase cultural diversity, but instead of an all-white culture, it could be a non-white culture monolith. but then there's the same problem of "why do all the elves have the same exact culture, where's the diversity?" except a different flavor. it would also be really weird because most of the characters in the series are canonically white.

elves don't have any culture. not gonna lie, i have no idea how this would work. this is the other chaos option. up to interpretation, i guess.

thoughts? what would you do if you were shannon. i don't really see any other options for fixing this problem, but there might be something i missed.

(also, yes, i am sending this three times. sorry for annoying you. i want to make sure at least one makes it to your inbox this time lol.)

Hey! So sorry about that--I don't know exactly how long you were waiting, but if it ever seems a while you can send an ask sooner to double check!

Before I get into this, I will say: there is no one right way to approach this topic and I am one person. These are just my thoughts--and I am always open to hearing from others

That said, just to clarify my first point (from this ask, thanks for the link), what I meant by "the elves are all white culturally" is that the kotlc elven culture is fabricated, but seems largely white american inspired. Which makes sense, as that's what Shannon is. There's always going to be a level of bias from one's own experiences and life, it's legitimately impossible to avoid and not always a bad thing. In some cases though, we want to temper it a little, which I don't think it really was in kotlc.

Like you said, there's multiple ways to approach this.

I think the crux is how race, in the elven world, means nothing--but this story exists in a world where it means a lot. While race is a social construction (the meanings/distinctions we assign to skin color are arbitrary) and therefore can be given a null significance, doing so is difficult because socially constructed doesn't mean meaningless/insignificant

We also run into complications given how scattered elves are--I've brought this up regarding clothing, but the physical geography of one's community shapes not only what you wear, but what you grow, how you build, etc. And we don't have that landmark for the elves

I think either an elven monoculture or multiple would work, it's just a matter of what you'd want to do.

If we go for a monoculture as Shannon has, I'd personally go for its own unique culture rather than a mash-up. A mash-up seems too likely to remove significant context/meaning from the source, and the elves are supposed to be isolated from humans. I think Shannon choosing this was fine, it was the execution I dislike.

The food comparisons you mention, for example. Or the family structures. Beauty standards. The education system. They don't actually feel like a distinct monoculture, it feels American with a fantasy filter. If, for example, we expanded on how being immortal affects your family (everyone's still alive, what kinds of relationships does that create, etc.), or how they're taught (instead of lectures and homework, maybe more hands on involvement, travel for hands-on since they can do so instantly, different kinds of tests, etc.), then I'd be more satisfied. I know there's some level of familiarity so readers aren't lost, but it's a little too much, in my opinion

If we were going instead for multiple elven cultures, I think I'd personally base it on ability. It's the most defining thing in their world and could easily be taken further. There'd be kinks to work out given kids don't automatically inherent their parents' abilities, have to manifest, and that people with the same ability don't generally group together, but! that's not insurmountable

kids could be raised within their parents' ability cultures/customs and then, if they manifest a different ability, its culture could be passed via their instructors--which wouldn't necessarily be at Foxfire. Those who differ from their parents, perhaps, would be expected to seek out additional mentor figures and become more multi-culture kids in the process. just because they don't group in canon now doesn't mean they can't here (and could be seen as more necessary given how much ability cross-marriages there are). There could also be more celebratory days around abilities--e.g. a kind of ceremony conducted when a kid manifests. Lots of different ways to take it, the point is just that abilities, I think, make a great base for different elven cultures given how massively important it is in their world.

We're critiquing/discussing diveristy, so something to consider, I think, is what is diversity in the context of kotlc? We want a variety of people to be reflected in the story--but we're dealing with isolated non-humans, so including a variety of human cultures won't necessarily achieve that goal.

The main thing that comes up (or at least that I've seen discussed) is the lack of non-white characters and the fairly american constructed culture--so the course of action to take could be a better balance of physical descriptor (more non-white characters) that creates the varied reflections/connections we want, and a more distinctly elven culture that leans into it harder, making it less American.

I'll stop here for now until this gets too long, but at the moment that's the general direction of my thoughts. I think it's a fine thought experiment to ask "what if culture wasn't tied to race?" you just don't want to then forget that even though your fantasy book doesn't consider race, it exists in a society that does. which could lead us into further discussion on sterotypes as well, which also factors into all this

and again: these are just my personal initial thoughts. it's a broad, complex topic, so there will of course be things I miss or don't get to. but regardless, i hope that at least partially answers your question of what I would do :)

[spilledartery]

more angst king i’m begging you

my first anonymous ask... is begging? how delightful.

[haunted-machines]

💚💖 Shade :3c

Send 💚 for a reason NOT to date my muse

And send 💖 for a reason TO date my muse

💖

((Being a servicebot, particularly one intended for customer service, he is naturally very attentive. It’s in the name! He’s sensitive to shifts in tone and atmosphere and will be very quick to not only pick up on how you feel, but do something about it.))

💚

((With that in mind, Shade is also naturally a bit of a workaholic. He keeps himself extremely busy and is constantly working on or checking up on something, actively or even just passively in one corner of his processor. You will have a very hard time pulling him away from a desk, let alone the city.))

[rosiedansen]

Hey,

I'm turning off my Inbox on this app due to all the personal political messages. I will not be posting any of these as I'm unsure who is legit or not and I am too lazy to vet them all myself.

If anyone wants to reach me feel free to do so in chat/messaging.

Thank you!! 💙

[adragonprinceswhore]

One Whore Is As Good As Another

Aemond x Brothel worker x (drunk) Aegon

Summary: Desperate to prove he's no mere boy, Prince Aemond leaves his taunting brother and seeks out another conquest. Momentarily, he feels back in control, until his brother reappears.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, reader is a brothel worker and has Valyrian features, targcest, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), face fuccin', P in V, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, titty slapping, humiliation, degradation, dysfunctional brothers

Word Count: 2000

A/N: I had this idea when I read the leaks for episode 3, and let's just say Aegon's awfulness worked great as inspiration. Filthy drabble ahead!

You've seen Prince Aemond's long, silver hair flash by in the corner of your eye countless times in the past weeks.

You never get the chance to observe the prince up close. He only appears fleetingly, confidently striding through the Blue Pearl towards the room where Madame Sylvie awaits him.

She seems to be his favourite; the only one allowed to touch the imposing young man. Sometimes he spends hours with her, though you are not privy to the details. All you know is that most men entering your place of employment conduct much shorter visits.

You do not envy your madame. Entertaining a Targaryen prince is no easy feat, from what you've heard.

Still, you do wonder what it would be like to catch his eye. For him to choose you, like he had chosen the madame.

Had he ever caught sight of you, like you did him? Had he ever seen the shimmer of your silver hair reflect in the corner of his eye?

Does you Valyrian heritage look as alluring as that of the statuesque prince, despite being born a bastard?

These thoughts had merely been fugitive, indulgent fantasies.

Until tonight.

Prince Aemond stands naked in the middle of the vast space in the heart of the Blue Pearl, seeing eye gazing out over the intertwined bodies moving in differing rhythms.

No one had asked for your services as of yet, and you'd therefore been tasked with refilling chalices and plates for the patrons.

The prince's gaze settles on you as you pour wine into a few cups scattered around, ensuring no one chases pleasure parched.

He walks towards you in slow, confident steps, seemingly uncaring that he is fully nude.

'Tis a brothel after all.

Placing the decanter back on the table, you curtsey as he draws near; trembling fingers fumbling with the thin material of your gown,

"Wine, your grace?"

"Do you work here?"

'Tis not the wine that caught his attention.

"Yes. How may I be of service?"

His eye scans the place, searching for a more secluded spot. He gestures towards a plush settee tucked away in a corner with a nod, prompting you to follow him there.

Walking next to the prince, you can truly admire the sharp features of his face. His hair is as fetching up close, and his skin resembles milk; so clear and smooth.

Clean.

Not fit for the filthy surroundings you'd been brought up in.

"Are you my uncle's bastard?"

His query catches you off guard,

"I-, I do not know, your grace. Mayhaps"

You could be his cousin.

Or his sister.

It matters little here; the gods had decided both of your fates when they ruled it fair he be born a prince and you a bastard to a whore in Flea Bottom.

Despite the evident uncertainty, your answer seems to please him.

Prince Aemond's hums, seeing eye narrowing and the right corner of his mouth twitching briefly, perhaps nearly breaking into a smile.

The possibility of you being his uncle's daughter excites him.

"Lay down"

You do as told, reclining on the settee. The corner the two of you occupy is fairly out of sight, yet there is no curtain hindering wandering eyes from seeing your act. It surprises you that the otherwise secretive prince would chose such an exposed place for your coupling, yet you say nothing.

The choice is his.

He inspects your form as you lie down; gaze traveling from the round softness of your breasts to the smooth skin of your inner thighs. The gown you wear leaves little hidden, and the prince's searing stare causes your heart to drum quicker in your chest.

The unpredictability of what he'll do next; of what he wants from you, causes as much unease within you as the determined look in his eye elicits.

He hums, head nodding faintly to himself, before he moves towards you, lifting one long, lean leg so he may straddle your chest.

His cock is right by your mouth, already growing larger as he gazes down at your face underneath him.

Perhaps 'tis the gaining of control that arouses the prince so; seeing you laid out for him with nothing but obedience to offer.

He feeds you his half-hard cock; not too brutish to force it all in your mouth at once. A prince still keeps his manners, you suppose.

Taking him in, you feel the skin of his member; hot and with a taste like salt. It's heavy in your mouth, and the awkward position the prince has you in does not allow you much movement.

He looks down at you; one eye stoney and unmoving, with shadows and light dancing in it. The other expressive and fierce.

Hungry.

Both his hands grab the back of the seat as he leans forward, forcing more of his cock down your throat. It prevents you from breathing, yet you do your best to appease him, sucking and swallowing him to the best of your ability.

You feel his balls slap your chin as he rocks into your mouth, pleased grunts escaping his lips.

A few more thrusts and you start to feel dizzy, not receiving enough air with the prince's manhood in your mouth and his lower belly pressed up against your nose.

You gently tap his leg and he abruptly pulls away from you, hurriedly moving off of you to stand next to the settee.

You cough as you inhale air once again, looking up at him with glassy eyes and wet lips, shining with spit.

His face is still harsh and demanding, and your gaze flickers down to his cock.

Decorated in your spit, it has grown double in size and is now red; like vexed skin after a beating.

You lay still, breathing rapidly to regain your senses. After giving you a moment to calm, Prince Aemond gestures for you to stand, and sits down on the settee.

He grabs your hips, dragging you towards his lap, and so 'tis your time to straddle him, take his cock in hand and sink down on it.

You know how to play these games. You know how to appease the men seeking your touch. Still, the moan you emit as you take in the prince is not solely performative; the stretch of his member fills you to the point of pain.

You bite your lip in a vain effort to concentrate, set on pleasing and serving your prince. Moving up and down in a slow pace, you grow wetter and more accustomed to his intrusion, and soon, your own pleasure follows.

"A-, ah, Prince Aemond", you call out, hoping the flattery will make him favour you even more. Mayhaps as much as he favours your madame.

He grunts and places his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so he may rest his face against your scarcely clad bosom. He's enjoying you; reveling in your cunt, and it feels like the highest of praise.

You continue to call his title, his name, moving faster and harsher up and down his length, until,

"Brother!"

You catch the flash of a figure stumbling towards you in the corner of your eye, certain you know who it is before looking up;

King Aegon.

His lips are curved into a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded and hair tousled,

"I knew you had it in ya!"

The king ends his exclamation with a slur, clearly far too drunk to be staggering around Flea Bottom unattended.

You'd never been eye to eye with the king before; word around the street was that he found the Blue Pearl far too dull. He requires more to quench his thirst for depravity.

And yet, seeing you ride his brother's cock seems to be to his liking,

"Come on, girl, ride the dragon!", King Aegon shouts before falling into a fit of laughter. His hand smacks your arse as if you were a mare, urging you to go faster.

You search the prince's face for approval, but he's not looking at you anymore. His dark gaze is trained on his brother; still harsh and determined. You take his silence for compliance and move faster; quick breaths of exhaustion and moans of pleasure slipping out from your still wet lips.

"Making her do all the work-",

Aegon's still laughing between the words he slurs out. Standing behind you, one of his hands move to cup your left breast, and he squeezes it roughly; too drunk to appreciate tenderness,

"-I can see why"

Prince Aemond is still silent; still staring at his amused brother.

"No, no, no, this won't do", the king mumbles as he releases the harsh grip he'd had on your breast,

"Remove your gown, bastard"

Again, you seek Prince Aemond's eye for instruction, but he does not grant it. So, you grab the hem of your thin attire and pull it off over your head, exposing yourself to the Targaryen brothers.

'Tis not like you've never been naked before; you entertain most guests nude. Still, there's something about the royals' presence, their ongoing, silent battle, that leaves you feeling more exposed than ever before.

King Aegon hums in appreciation at the sight of your bare teats, the same rough hand coming up to slap the side of one of them, chuckling as they knock together.

You pick up the pace to ride your prince again, yet the king does not leave you be. His voice is still amused, though tinted with something darker, as he commands his brother,

"I want to see you fuck her like a hound, Aemond"

The prince does not reply, and your pace does not falter. You were tasked with pleasuring the prince, and if he did not reply to his brother's orders, neither would you.

Though he is your king.

"Fuck her like a hound! Come on!"

King Aegon sounds more agitated now; impatient. He does not like that his brother does not obey him instantaneously; that he would refuse an order.

The prince is as stubborn as his elder, and in between the brothers, is you;

Caught between two dragons waging a war of wills.

"Get up", Prince Aemond grits through clenched teeth.

You comply, standing swiftly only to be turned and roughly placed back on the settee on your knees.

The prince places a hand on your lower back, pushing you to arch, and enters you in one stroke, reaching far deeper than your previous position had allowed.

He quickly sets a brutal pace; fucking your squelching cunt harsh and quick.

You desperately hold on to the back of the seat, vainly searching for some control as the prince takes his pleasure from you.

Behind you, you hear his laboured breaths and grunts, and the entertained cackle of the king,

"That's more like it!"

He walks around the settee to face you; watching your body as it sways back and forward with the prince's rough thrusts.

Leaning in closely, so closely that his wine-soaked breath is right by your cheek, King Aegon inquires, "How does royal cock feel?"

You know how to play these games.

"Heavenly, your grace"

He hums and touches a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger, "Is that what your mother thought as well?"

He does not bother with waiting for an answer from you; truly, he's not interested in knowing. Instead, he circles the settee yet again to stand next to his brother, mesmerised by the sight of his cock driving in and out of you,

"Where on her will you spill?"

Prince Aemond stays silent, pace never faltering.

“Face, teats or arse?”, his brother asks, but before his stoic sibling answers, he decides for him,

"Spill on her face. You got to appreciate those, uh, familiar features"

A few more rough strokes and the prince pulls out, grabs your waist, and turns you around so that you face them both. He pushes on your shoulder in a silent order for you to get on the floor, once again with his member in your face.

With a quick hand he strokes his slick cock, seed shooting out like arrows, landing on your cheeks, in your hair, on your lips.

He's breathing heavily, yet does not say anything, nor does he moan or grunt. He simply decorates your face in pearly luminescence, matching your silver hair and lilac eyes.

When he's done, he turns, and you see his older brother lay a comradery hand on his shoulder, commending him for "a good fuck".

As the brothers walk away together, you see the tension in Prince Aemond's shoulders ease ever so slightly.

The burdens of being a royal.

A/N: If the HotD writers want Aemond to be obsessed with his uncle, I'll comply! I like to write these little drabbles as a fun way to practice writing without much pressure, so please be kind, it's all just for fun!

[rar3wubb0x]

Hi there! :)

How come you glitch/malfunction so often? And is it something that could be fixed?

GR3ETINGS!!!

1 THINK Y0U AR3 CONFUSED- ARE YOU REFERR1NG TO MY STUTT3RS DURING S0NGS? TH0SE ARE INTENT10NAL! I D0 TH4T SO IT FITS BETTER WITH THE MUSIC.

I DO GL1TCH SOMETIMES OUTS1DE OF TH4T, THOUGH. ONE T1M3 MY VOIC3 BOX MALFUNCTION3D AND ALL 1 C0ULD SP34K WAS STATIC. TH4T W4S AN EXPERIENCE I D0NT WISH TO REP34T.

[eraenaa]

Bound by Blood

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen Princess Reader Tag List

Synopsis: They can no longer hinder Aemond from taking whatever he wants, and you are the only one he desperately wants. 

Warnings: Non-Con, Targcest, ¿Harsher Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (f receiving), Fingering, P in V Sex, Jealousy, Possessive, Mentions of Death, Not Proofread

Word Count: 5,475

You bit your lip as you prevented a giggle from escaping your lips. You were merely walking down the halls of your home when you heard a peculiar sound that stirred your curiosity. The sound led you to the chambers of your brother, Aemond. You peeked through the ajar door, and your eyes widened at the scene; your brother stood in his chambers, without his tunic, whilst a lady stood before him, naked. She was peppering kisses on his bare chest whilst Aemond’s head was turned to the ceiling, his lone eye shut in what you presumed was pleasure. 

You could not help but let out a gasp left your lips as Aemond pushed the lady to kneel before him. Your hand covered your mouth as Aemond turned his gaze towards you. His lilac eye widened in surprise that mirrored yours. You gathered the skirts of your dress and bolted through the halls of the keep. You let out a bubbling laugh as you ran, hearing your brother’s footsteps following you as well as his voice calling your name. You found yourself seeking refuge behind the white, ashy trunk of the Weirwood tree, peeking from the trunk to see if your brother had followed you. You let out a yelp as you felt a firm hold on your waist and your body being pushed against the trunk of the ancient, sacred tree. 

“You dare spy on me?” Aemond questioned, now dressed in his tunic. You laughed at your brother, whose hold on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the bodice of your dress, tickling you. “You were with a woman,” You stated and let out another laugh as he did not cease his torment. “You surprise me, brother. I was led to believe you were indifferent to such acts… of pleasure,” You mused as your laughs died down, but your beloved brother did not relinquish his hold nor the close proximity of your faces. Aemond hummed, breathing in your scent and savoring the mirth in your eyes that was caused at his expense. “You were not meant to see such a scene,” He said sternly and watched as you shrugged. Aemond swallowed thickly as his eye glimpsed downward and saw the light heaving of your chest, your skin aglow with the light of the afternoon sun. 

“Tell me, was the lady in your chambers a gift from Aegon?” You asked in curiosity. You often see ladies of pleasure secretly threading the halls of the keep, but they were usually meant for your eldest brother. “Our brother is bedridden,” Aemond stated, and you nodded. “Ah… so you have taken it upon yourself to continue on his traditions,” You teased and watched as your brother’s jaw tensed. You licked your lips and rested your hands on his shoulders. “She was no whore, she was a lady of house Redwine,” Your brother defended. Your brows shot up in surprise. “A noblewoman,” You say, and he curtly nods, brushing away your hair that was jostled by the wind. 

“Will you marry her then?” You asked innocently with a tilt of your head. Aemond scoffed and shook his head, his face contorting in disgust. “No,” He immediately responded. His heart growing soft at the confused pout on your lips. “I have no wish for a marriage… especially with someone so… plain,” Your brother explained, and you nodded. Aemond pulled you away from the trunk of the tree and linked your arms together, escorting you back to the castle. 

“Speaking of marriages… when is mine?” You inquired, and Aemond halted in his steps, his body tensing at your query. “Aegon was the one to see through the proposals, and seeing that he is now bedridden and the duties of the king have passed towards the prince regent, I ask you, brother, when will I be married?” You asked, your innocent eyes gazing up at your older brother, who tried hard to mask his rage at the thought of your marriage. “Never, if I can help it,” He stated seriously, but you took it as a jest. “Aemond,” You whined as your brother continued to walk. “The war is finished, and I am of age now.” You reasoned, but Aemond only shook his head. “We will discuss such matters in due time.” He said simply, but you protested. “It is due time! I am six and ten; mother was married when she was five and ten— Helaena even sooner!” You reasoned, already feeling as if you were ready for such responsibility. 

Aemond let out a grievous breath at your words. “Is it not my duty as princess to marry? To bind our house with another to strengthen our name?” You asked your brother the teachings of your septa as to what your duty was embedded in your mind. “Your duty, my dearest sister, is to be here with your family, with me,” Aemond said, and you frowned. “Brother, even grandfather believes it is time for me to marry!” You insisted, “Whatever reservations he had years before had changed. Remember? He was the one who insisted for me to stay when the small council wanted to ship me off to Dorne so we could have them as allies?” Aemond clenched his fists, restarting himself to point any anger towards you. 

“Why this insistence on marriage? Tell me, sister, has any of the lords caught your attention for you to act as such?” Aemond questioned, words laced and dripping with jealousy. He watched as your cheeks bloomed with color and your eyes widened, fear and dread swirling in his heart as your bodily reactions were answer enough. “N-no.” You said; Aemond rolled his eye and shook his head at your lie. His mind already imagining the way he shall kill and hurt the one who had caught your attention. “There is no one, Aemond… Not yet, at least.” You said as you realized your brother did not believe your words. “I only wish to perform my duty,” You added quietly, your eyes widening in plea. 

“And you are performing it now. Your duty is to be here, to support and be with your family.” He reasoned, swaying your mind to let go of such matter. You huffed as you saw in Aemond’s eye that he would not discuss the matter as of now, stomping away from your brother with pouted lips and irritation at his stubbornness.

“He does not wish for me to be married! He would turn me into a spinster!” You grumbled as you did your needlework in your mother’s chambers, your grandsire and older sister present as well. Your mother sighed at your words, her gaze turning to her father, their suspicions made years before now manifested and now presenting themselves quite obviously. Your grandfather sighed and patted the back of your head, your hair that mirrored your mother’s cascading behind your back. “I shall see to it that your brother sees reason,” He said; you turned your gaze upwards in hope. “In the meantime… why not acquaint yourself with some of the sons of the lords here in court… just so when your brother finally agrees to your marriage, we are prepared, and you will know the true manner of your future intended.” Your grandsire advised, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“Are the matters for the day settled then?” Aemond asked grievously. Overly tired from having to sit in the room of the small council and tend to the matters of the realm. He was counting down the hours until he could escape the room and see you, who had always had a way to make him forget about his problems and exhaustion. “Not quite,” Otto spoke. “There is still the matter of marriage for the princess,” He added, and Aemond began to seethe in his seat. 

He watched as the men around the table leaned in closer to his grandfather, hanging on every word he uttered about your marriage. The lords zealous at the idea, Aemond would wager that they would be presenting their sons to you, the renowned beauty of the realm. “This matter can be discussed another time; my sister is not yet of age,” Aemond gritted out. “The princess is six and ten. She is of age. And she as well has made known her wish to be married, my prince,” Otto replied, averting his gaze from the fiery glare of his grandson. 

Aemond sat in his seat with great irritation as the matter of your marriage was discussed. Names of undeserving lords were thrown into the air and were being jotted down as future prospects for your hand that was already meant for another. Aemond sat stoically as the small council was dismissed, his body still wrapped in rage, and he feared if he moved, he would let it show and might just take a life with his bare hands. “The time has come, my prince. It is best to make your peace with it.” Otto spoke before exiting the room, looking towards his grandson, who had made his contempt on the matter quite obvious. 

After a long moment of calming himself down, Aemond finally stood and exited the room of the small council and found himself staying towards the tiltyard to train. However, the rage he tried to be rid of quickly returned as he saw you with a son of a lord. You leaning close towards the punny boy, a wide smile on your lips as you conversed with him. Ser Criston made hastened steps and stood before the prince, blocking his view of you who were acquainting herself with a son of a lord. “Ready to train, my prince?” The knight asked, hoping to distract Aemond as he, too, saw plainly the affection and fondness he had for you ever since childhood. A fondness that your mother and grandfather had tried hard to deny and keep tame. 

“I need a sparing partner,” Aemond gritted and unsheathed his sword, his eye clasped on the boy you kept chatting with. “Here I am,” The Knight said, his eye warily going towards you, who let out a laugh and moved to touch the arm of the lord before you, batting your lashes at him and presenting him with a smile from your pink lips. “My prince,” Ser Criston called, pushing upon Aemond, who stepped forward to charge toward the boy from house Lannister. “You cannot maim him,” Ser Criston reminded as he pushed the prince towards the other side of the tiltyard, Aemond’s lilac eye following you as you linked your arms with the young lord and sauntered off the tiltyard. 

“Aemond,” Ser Criston sighed, “She is your sister,” He reminded him of a fact that he knew all too well. “Exactly, she is my sister. And it is my duty to protect her from the dangers that come with undeserving men,” Aemond replied. “What danger? There is no danger at present, and I was here supervising her.” Aemond scoffed and walked off in search of you, but the knight followed him. “Supervision? Where was this supervision of yours when my sister was practically flushed against that lord? Flirting with him like a blushing whore,” Aemond spat and Ser Criston halted in his tracks as the bitter words left the prince’s lips. The knight’s brown eyes shifted between the prince and you, who stood by the hall and had heard the words spoken against you. 

You stared at your brother wide-eyed and brimming with tears as you heard the foul word he uttered against you. Aemond felt his heart pit as he realized that you had heard the untrue, bitter statement brought by jealousy that he had uttered. “Princess!” Ser Criston called as you ran through the halls once more, the knight looking back at the prince in disbelief for he had uttered such foul words. 

You ran to your mother for comfort, her readily taking you in her arm as you buried your tear-stained face in her neck. “Why, my child? What has happened?” The queen asked and ran her hands soothing through your hair that you had inherited from her. You did not speak and only continued to sniffle and let the tears pour out of your eyes. You hear the patter of hastened steps and the clink of armor, Ser Criston preventing your brother from entering your mother’s chambers where you sought comfort. “My love, what has happened?” Your mother asked once more, her gaze shifting between you and Ser Criston, who bared the room to prevent your brother from entering. 

You stayed quite still and let your mother assist you to a seat. You cast your gaze downward and continued to cry in silence, and your mother went to your family’s most trusted knight. “The prince saw as the princess was acquainting herself with one of the lords and… he had spoken offense.” Ser Criston whispered, his heart twisting as he watched you silently cry. “What offense?” The queen lowly questioned. “The prince, in his rage, had accidentally compared the princess’ likeness to a… whore,” Ser Criston’s hold on the hilt of his sword tightened as he heard you stifle a sob. 

“Oh my love, that is simply untrue. You know that it is untrue,” Your mother kneeled before you. You were always her most sensitive child; how could you not be when you were always showered with praises and sheltered from any cruelty of the world? Great lengths were taken to keep you innocent from the hardships of life, and though this matter of offense seemed small for others, it was not for you. Especially when you consider the fact at how much your brother frowned upon women who earned such titles, and for him to compare you to such— it was too much for your fragile self to bear. 

“Your brother was simply tired. He did not mean to say such words; he did not mean it.” Your mother said as she tried to comfort you. You were unconvinced; you recalled his words earlier and the animosity and irritation he had shown the past few days when you brought up your wish to be married. His reactions were not at all brought by tiredness. The day had come when your favored brother had started to resent you. Your tears only multiplied at the thought. 

“How could you say such a thing?” The queen hissed at her son, who stood idly outside her chambers. It was night, and your tears only ceased when sleep had overcome you. “I was overcome by rage,” Aemond reasoned, and his mother rolled her eyes. “But that does not mean you shall disparage your sister! What even is the reason for your rage? Why are you so against for her to know the lords that she shall marry?” The queen asked, and Aemond gritted his teeth. “You know why,” He whispered harshly, watching as the eyes of his mother widened with dread. “Aemond… we have discussed this,” The queen whispered. Pulling him into another room in her apartments and away from any prying ears. 

“No, you discussed this,” Aemond spoke more loudly, fiery rage returning in his veins. “She is your sister. I… I cannot have another pair of my children married and offend the gods further!” The queen said frantic. Aemond shook his head. “You have known how I feel for her for years now… you knew perfectly well. You let Aegon and Helaena marry, but when it is me, you dare deprive me of the only one I want?” Aemond asked, voice almost heavy with emotion, anger, and sadness, but his anger loomed greater. “We cannot go against the laws of gods and men once more,” Alicent sighed, but Aemond shook his head. “That is where we differ, Mother. She and I are born Targaryens. We are dragons who do not succumb to rules such as yours.” Aemond spoke lowly, Alicent feeling fear for her son’s decisions. 

“My brother is clinging to life as we speak; the stranger shall arrive and take him any moment now. And seeing his heirs were taken by war, his seat and crown shall pass to me. And when I am king, not even you or Otto or even the kingdom can hinder me anymore, Mother.” Aemond swore. “She is mine. She has always been meant to be mine.” Aemond proclaimed and marched out of the apartments of his mother. 

You stood teary-eyed before a burning pyre, your eldest brother succumbing to his sickness and injuries. You turned your head towards your mother, who had her head cast down as tears were shed for her firstborn. You then turned to Helaena, who stood straight in her spot, whatever sadness she had greatly covered or overpowered by her numbness. Aemond breathed out as you had not even looked at him since the day he mistakenly uttered such a foul word against you. 

“Sister,” Aemond tried to call you and take hold of your arm, but you stepped towards your mother, and she wrapped her arms around you in comfort. “I’ll escort them back to the castle,” Daeron spoke as he returned from Old Town after the events of the war and only returned to Kingslanding to aid his older brother, who now held the title of king. Aemond gave a nod and turned his longing gaze to you. The death of Aegon was nothing unexpected, but still, it was still a death that had undone the stitches of the wound the war had left. Aemond felt a pang in his heart as you did not run to him for comfort as the news came. All Aemond wanted to do was wrap his arms around your frame, to seek comfort with you, who had always been his greatest solace. 

But you kept your distance from your brother. The closeness that you two had since childhood started to drift apart as you heard his conversation with your mother the night he offended you. 

It was not you were that unaware of his fondness towards you, but you took his affection in the manner of a brother showing love to his sister and nothing more. But ever since hearing that confession that was not meant to be heard by you, you recalled yours and Aemond’s relationship. Now noting that perhaps the glances shared were not so innocent, the touches may have lingered and had hidden agendas. That the words spoken had innuendos in them, but you were just too oblivious and naive to notice. 

You sat solemnly in your chambers, staring at the fire as your fingers twirled your hair. The matters of your marriage paused as the kingdom was in mourning for your brother. You were brought out of your thoughts as you hear Aemond call your name, him standing by the door of your chambers. You stood in shock, moving to take your robe to cover yourself, who was only dressed in your shift. Your eyes widened as Aemond hindered you, pulling you flush against his body, wrapping his arms around your frame, and burying his head in your neck. 

“I’m sorry,” He uttered against your skin. “Please, sister, forgive me. I cannot bear for us to be like this, please, my fire.” He confessed and pleaded, holding tighter onto you as you stood idly, your arms not wrapping themselves around Aemond just like times before. “Aemond,” You sighed and tried to push him away, but your small action made the pang in his heart twist further. “What must I do for us to return to the way it was? My fire, please. Do you wish for new dresses? Jewels? What do you want, tell me, and it shall be yours,” Aemond pleaded, moving his face from the crook of your neck and standing straight, his cold, callous hands cupping your soft cheeks. You shook your head at your brother’s attempt at bribery. “Nothing. I— we cannot return to the way it was before,” You said quietly. Aemond frowned at your words; he knew what he had uttered against you was foul, but such a measly insult cannot result in him losing you.

You breathed out a grievous breath, trying to push him away once more, but he kept rooted at his spot. “I have heard what you had told Mother,” You said, watching as Aemond’s confusion morphed into realization. “And?” He asked, voice serious, the softness it harbored as he pleaded for your forgiveness gone. “And what? Aemond, you cannot be serious. You and I are brother and sister. We cannot—“ Your words were interrupted. “Aegon and Helaena were brothers and sisters as well. So were the conqueror and his wives. This is the tradition of our house. I love you— I burn for you in the way of the dragon.” He proclaimed, his face threading nearer to yours. You tried to push him away as your noses brushed, as his scent was starting to intoxicate your senses. “Aemond, please, we cannot— they will never approve of this. The gods w—“

“Fuck the gods!” Aemond screamed blasphemy, your eyes widening at his words and how his other hand placed itself on your waist. “I am king, and no one shall question and get in between me and what I want.” Aemond seethed. “That is not a king; that is a tyrant.” You said, growing in fear of your brother. An emotion you never thought you would feel when it came to him. “Call it what you want, my fire, but I shall still have you,” Aemond swore, and you resisted him as he captured your lips. “Aemond… no… please, do not do this, we cannot do this.” You breathed out as you managed enough strength to push him away. Your cheeks flushed and lips swollen by his kiss.

“Deny me as you will, sister, but I know you better than you know yourself. You are mine. You had always and will forever be mine.” Aemond uttered and pulled you against him once more, no matter your protests. “I regret that it must come to this, but you must learn who you belong to— I must pluck those thoughts of reservation out of your pretty little head, my fire,” Aemond murmured against your skin, nipping the flesh of your neck and leaving his mark, undeterred by your pushes, which he felt were half-hearted. He smirked as he pried out a sweet moan from your lips. 

“Your body betrays you, my fire. You can lie, refuse, and deny what you feel for me, but your body tells me the truth of it.” Aemond hummed, his fingers finding the hem of your shift, and started to hike it upwards. His calloused fingers brushed against your milky skin that he had never had the pleasure to touch before. 

You gasped as Aemond shifted his head toward your bosom. His eye gazed upwards as you watched his every move. You bit your lip as he took the string of your shift in his teeth and pulled at it, loosening the sheer cover you had on. Aemond hummed in contentment as you finally wrapped your arms around him once more, pulling him closer as his mouth enclosed your bosom, his tongue flicking the taut bud and resulting in a whimper escaping your lips. “Aemond… we… don’t,” You resisted further, your mind conjuring the reaction that will be caused by your damnable actions with your brother. 

“Do you truly mean that, sister? Do you truly wish for me to stop?” Aemond hummed, feeling you tremble as his hand caressed the soft skin of the inside of your thigh, his touch inching higher to your heat. Instead of an answer, you could only whimper as Aemond cupped your dripping heat, his answer given by your body. “Of course you don’t. Not when you’re dripping in want for me,” Aemond moved his slender fingers to rub your cunt, earning a moan from you, your sweet voice echoing through the room and he could only hope that it would reach down the halls in order for all to hear how you belonged to Aemond.

You whimpered as Aemond stole away his hand from pleasuring you. He pecked your lips, and you looked up at him through hooded eyes. “Do you wish for more?” Aemond asked, bringing his fingers that were slick with your essence to his lips, a groan slipping from his throat as he tasted you. You did not answer his question, “If you wish for more, my fire, just say it. Tell me you want more. Tell me that you are mine. Submit to me, sweet sister,” Aemond urged, “Be my wife… my queen, just as it ought to be,” Aemond insisted, leaning closer to you. He lifted your gaze that was planted on the floor, looking deeply into your eyes, and saw pure, unbridled want in them. 

Aemond sighed in contentment and smirked as you went to the tips of your toes and met your lips with his. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to you. Aemond lifted you off your feet and made you wrap your legs around him as he led you both to your feathered bed, never parting your lips, kissing you like a man starved because he was. All he had ever wanted was you. It was plain to him that even in childhood, when he thought of love, all he thought about was you. When his eye was taken, he did not fear seeing the world impaired; he was frightened at the possibility of no longer seeing you. When the war had begun, he had not wanted the throne; all he wanted was for you to be safe and sound. When Daemon had lunged at him atop his dragon, when Aemond thought his life would be taken, his last thought was of you. It had always been and will always be you. 

When Aemond laid you down, he gazed at you with this overwhelming thought that all he ever wanted would be his. That you will finally be hit, that you shall be bound to him, a dragon tethered to another by fire and blood. “You’re mine,” Aemond stated as his fingers moved to fully remove your cover. “I—I am yours,” You stated, and Aemond felt an urge to weep in happiness. He took your lips into his once more, trailing his kisses downward, placing wet, open-mouth kisses upon your skin.

You whimpered as Aemond paused by your heat, uncertain what he shall do. An odd, almost animalistic sound left your lips as you feel his mouth upon your sex. “Aemond… wha—“ Your words faded as a moan took over your thoughts as Aemond flicked his tongue upon the pearl of your cunt. Greedily sucking and licking at you, devouring you to the point that the world began to be incoherent. You knew you were moaning, verbalizing the pleasure he gave, but you could not even hear the noises you let out, but Aemond did. He smirked against your cunt as his arms hooked at your thighs and his hands held yours, his ears ringing with your moans and the way you called out his name. 

A groan left your lips as Aemond inserted his finger in you; his heaving breathing reached your ears as he could not believe how you clenched upon the digit. 

Aemond marveled as he watched his finger disappear in and out of you, already impatient that it would soon be replaced by his cock, but he had to ready you first, he could not be so cruel to subject you to such pain just because of his wants. “Oh gods,” You moaned as your eyes rolled back, and a twisting in your core that was unfamiliar started to take you. “Aemond,” You called, apprehension in your tone as you did not know where this feeling let. You propped yourself by your elbows and gazed upon him through dazed eyes as he inserted another finger and his lips were latched upon your cunt. “Are you to come, my fire? Are you to come by my fingers and lips?” Aemond hummed and used his thumb to rub the swollen pearl. 

A whimper left your lips, and soon it was followed by your loud moans that were caused by your orgasm. Aemond held down your frame as you spasmed before him, your body shaking by the pleasure he had caused.  Aemond moved his frame atop yours, capturing your lips, and you sighed as you tasted your essence on his tongue. 

“You’re mine, sweet sis,” Aemond hummed as he aligned himself at your entrance. “I’m yours, brother… always yours,” You moaned as he glided the tip of his cock against your fold. Aemond groaned at your words, feeling he could come by just your words. Aemond’s breathing shortened as his cock penetrated you, he wiped and kissed the salty tears that spilled from your eyes as your maidenhead was taken. “Aemond… I— I can’t,” You cried as you could not bare the pain, “Just a bit more, my fire, and you’ll feel the pleasure that only I could give you,” Aemond hissed as you clenched around his length painfully but pleasurably so. 

It felt like an eternity before the pain subsided, and you started to let out small moans of pleasure. Aemond hurried his head in your neck and nipped at your skin, his thrusts slow and cautious as he was still measuring how much of him you could take. “More, Aemond… please, more,” You moaned quietly, and Aemond’s hand ventured to your folds and grew circled upon your pearl as his pace quickened and you clung to him, your nails scratching his shoulders, presenting him with stinging pleasure. 

“Oh… it’s good, it’s so good, Aemond,” You called and your king took one of your tit into his mouth, nipping at the bud of your ample bosom, feeling as you clenched tighter around him. “Are you to come again, my fire? Will you come for me again?” Aemond hummed as he watched your eyes roll back once more, and the words slipping from your lips grew incoherent. Aemond gave a long, deep thrust, and your legs wrapped around his waist as you came undone. Aemond soon followed and filled you with his seed as your name slipped his lips in a cry of pleasure. “You’re forever mine, my fire. My sister, my wife, my queen,” Aemond affirmed and kissed your lips once more as you started to slip into slumber brought by exhaustion. 

Aemond gazed down at you as he rested his bareback by the headboard of your feathered bed, and you slept soundly by his side, your body covered by a thin sheet, your breath fanning his skin. Aemond heard the faint knock of the door, and before he could deny entry to whoever dared to disturb your peace, your mother entered. He watched with satisfaction as her brown eyes widened in scandal as she realized what had transpired between you and Aemond. 

“Best not to cause a scene, Mother, my sweet sister needs her rest,” Aemond whispered as he ran his hand through your silky hair. A smirk rose to his lips as realization shone in his mother’s eyes that there was nothing that could be done anymore, by the eyes of the gods and man, you were Aemond’s, fully. The blood on your sheet and his seed in your cunt was enough evidence that you were his. Your mother could only leave the chambers, pale in shock as whatever actions she had made to take you from Aemond had failed. 

You stirred and hummed as you heard the door shut loudly, and Aemond was quick to hush and lull you back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, my fire,” Aemond whispered and soothingly ran his hand through your hair and he felt his lips twitch into a smile as you did as he said and went closer to him, draping your arm atop his body and pulling him closer to you. 

The day after next, when your soreness had faded, you rode atop Aemond’s dragon as he flew the both of you to Dragonstone, your own dragon following Vhagar as they both were present to you and Aemond’s union. A Valyrian wedding commenced on the shores with your dragons as witnesses. Aemond peered down at you with a beaming smile, leaning in to kiss your lips and taste the copper of your blood. “My wife, my queen,” Aemond murmured in sheer joy. “My husband, my king,” You whispered with a smile on your lips and kissed the man you will forever be bound to. A wedding that no man nor god could contest for the two of you were dragons who did not answer or bend to any other’s will.

[zebuie]

TEACHERS PET.

❁ཻུ۪۪ ⋅ READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ➹

# ☆ PAIRINGS ☆ ;: teacher!ellie x teacherspet!reader

# ☆ SYNOPSIS ☆ ;: college student develops a small crush on her philosophy teacher—but is it really small? soon, one thing leads to another. as feelings grow, they grow a secret romance.

# ☆ WC/CW ☆ ;: 9.2k, smutsmutsmut! , age gap between reader and ellie ( r is 20 and ellie 24 ) , cursing / swearing , situationship? , kissing , fingering ( r receiving ) , eating from the behind ( r receiving ) , tit sucking ( e receiving ) , strap on usage ( r receiving ) , pet names ( princess , baby , baby girl , babe ) , aftercare , lmk if there’s more.

You trudge into the school building, dreading the upcoming lecture. The hallway is packed with students milling about, creating a chaotic scene. "God I'm already fucking dreading this." you mutter to yourself as you try to make your way to the classroom.

Finally arriving at the door, you take a deep breath and enter the room. 

It's even more crowded than you expected, with people jostling for seats. As you scan the room for an empty spot, your eyes land on a woman writing on the chalkboard.

She turns to face the class, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. It's Ellie Williams, the notorious philosophy teacher. 

Her sharp jawline and piercing green eyes make her look more like a biker chick than an academic. 

She's got a fit, muscular build evident even under her tight shirt. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to today's discussion on existentialism," she says in a commanding voice that leaves no doubt who's in charge.

As you slip into an empty seat, you can't help but stare at Ellie as she begins the lecture. Her confidence and authority are undeniable, and you find yourself drawn in despite your initial reluctance.

You sit entranced as Ellie begins to expound upon the meaning of life, her husky voice and commanding presence washing over you like a warm bath.

 The way she struts across the front of the classroom, hips swaying, makes you imagine her strutting across your bed; demanding your total surrender. 

Her words echo in your mind long after the lecture ends - "existence precedes essence"...a fitting philosophy for a woman who seems to exist solely on her own terms. As the class files out, you find yourself lingering, drawn to Ellie like a moth to a flame. 

You clear your throat to get her attention, and she turns to face you, eyebrow raised in query. "Yes?" she asks, all domineering authority and sensuality. "I was wondering if you could...um...provide some extra guidance on the reading," you stammer, trying to play it cool. Ellie smiles - a slow, sultry curl of her lips. "Of course, I'd be happy to help. Meet me in my office after your next class." The way she says it, it sounds less like a suggestion and more like a command from your new mistress.

The rest of the day drags on in a sensual haze. You can barely concentrate in your other classes, your mind constantly wandering back to Ellie and the promise of her "guidance". 

Finally, it's time for your next class to end. You pack up your things with feigned nonchalance, all the while sneaking glances at the clock. 

As soon as the final bell rings, you're on your feet, eager to keep your appointment with destiny. 

Making your way to Ellie's office, you take a deep breath and knock on the door. "Enter," comes her response. 

Pushing the door open, you step inside the dimly lit room, the door closing behind you with a soft click - as if you're being locked into place. Ellie looks up from her desk, a gleam in her eye as she takes in your nervous figure. "Shut the door and come here," she commands. 

You obey, your heart racing as you approach her. She rises from her chair, looming over you with an air of quiet power. "So, you wanted some extra guidance, huh?"

"Yes, if you could just explain the chapter on existentialism in more depth, I'd really appreciate it," you reply, trying to sound casual despite your racing heart. 

Ellie nods, her eyes roaming over your face. "Of course. Have a seat." She gestures to the chair in front of her desk. 

You sit, suddenly very aware of how small and confined the space feels with the two of you alone. 

Ellie leans back against her desk, arms crossed over her chest. "Existentialism is all about taking responsibility for your own existence," she begins, her voice low and hypnotic. "It's about recognizing that, fundamentally, you are alone in the universe. No one else can live your life for you." Her gaze intensifies, boring into yours. "Does that resonate with you?" The way she asks, it feels more like a test than a question. You nod, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, it's like, we have to choose our own meaning in life, right?" Ellie nods, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Exactly. And that's a scary thought, because it means you have the power to create your own meaning. But it also means no one else can control your life for you." She pauses, studying you intently. "Does that set you free, or terrify you?"

"It's freeing, in a way," you venture, trying to sound braver than you feel. 

Ellie leans forward, her elbows on the desk. "It's the most freeing thing in the world," she agrees, her voice dropping to a purr. "But it's also terrifying. Because if you're responsible for creating your own meaning, then you have to confront the possibility that you might get it wrong. That you might waste your life chasing things that don't truly fulfill you." Her eyes hold yours captive, searching. "So, what do you think you're doing with your life right now?" The question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. 

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly aware of how small and confined the space feels. "I...I don't know," you admit. "I mean, I go to class, I study, but is that really living? Is that what I want out of life?" Ellie watches you wrestle with the question, a knowing glint in her eye. "You seem like a smart girl," she says finally. "I think you have the potential to create something truly remarkable with your life. But first, you're going to have to take a leap of faith."

Just as Ellie is about to continue her line of questioning, her phone suddenly rings, shrill in the otherwise quiet room. 

She glances down at the screen, her expression unreadable. "Excuse me a moment," she says brusquely, grabbing the phone and stepping away from the desk. 

You sit in awkward silence as she takes the call, trying to ignore the sense of rejection that washes over you. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ellie ends the call and returns to the desk, her eyes avoiding yours. "I apologize, but I'm going to have to cut our meeting short," she says stiffly. 

"I have another appointment." She stands, indicating that your audience is at an end. You gather your things in a daze, feeling the sting of dismissal. As you reach the door, you can't help but steal one last glance at Ellie - who is already focused intently on her computer screen, pretending you were never there.

As you trudge back to your dorm, your mind is a whirlwind of confused emotions. 

Part of you is thrilled at the prospect of getting to know Ellie better - but another part is terrified of the consequences. What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if you get hurt? Lost in thought, you don't even notice your phone buzzing in your pocket until several hours later. 

Pulling it out, you see a call from Lana - your best friend and confidante. "Hey, girl!" she greets you, her usual bubbly self. "How's the first day back going?" You settle in, ready to offload everything that happened with Ellie. 

As you recount the story, Lana listens with increasing amusement.

Lana's laughter echoes through the phone as the mysterious student recounts her tale of woe. "Aww, you've got it bad," Lana coos, her voice dripping with amusement.

 "Seriously, you need to loosen up! It's just a crush." You sigh, the sound carrying clearly over the line. "I know, I know. It's just...there's something about her, you know? The way she carries herself..." Lana snorts, cutting in. "Says the girl who's never had a real relationship. Trust me, I know the type. Ellie seems like a total fuckboy, anyway. You'd just end up getting hurt." There's a pause, and then Lana's tone turns thoughtful. 

"Although...we should maybe make you feel better. Go out, have some fun, get your mind off things. I say we hit up that new club downtown. You game?" You hesitate, uncertainty clear in your voice. But Lana's enthusiasm is infectious, and soon you've both made plans to meet up later that night. "Just relax and let loose, okay? Don't think about Ellie at all. We'll get you forgetting all about her in no time!"

You agree to meet Lana at the club later that night, hoping a night out will take your mind off your crush on Ellie. 

The rest of the day passes in a blur of classes and studying, but eventually it's time to get ready to go out. 

You meet up with Lana, who's already dressed to the nines in a tiny dress and heels. "Gorgeous, let's go!" she says, dragging you into the night.

The club is pulsating with music and lights. You and Lana make your way to the bar, ordering drinks as you scan the crowd. 

It's a sea of unfamiliar faces - until you spot a group of girls from your sorority waving you over. 

You make your way over, laughing and chatting as you down your first drink. 

Gradually, the worries about Ellie start to fade away, replaced by the thrill of the night and the company of your friends.

Hours pass in a whirlwind of dancing, gossiping, and letting loose. 

By the time the club starts to close, you feel rejuvenated - your earlier heartache all but forgotten. As you and Lana are getting ready to leave, a boisterous guy approaches, asking for Lana's number. 

She plays hard to get for a bit, but eventually relents with a wink in your direction. You smile, feeling happy for your friend even as you can't help but wonder what Ellie is up to tonight.

You take a seat at the bar, ordering a strong cocktail to help take your mind off things. 

The night wears on, and you find yourself getting lost in the music and the company of a friendly stranger who joins you at the bar. 

Her name is Jenna, and she's charming and easy to talk to. As the hours pass, you find yourself growing more and more tipsy, laughing and joking around with Jenna as the night wears on. 

At some point, you both decide to hit the dance floor, moving and grooving to the pulsing beat. You're having a great time, but as the night wears on, your inhibitions lower. 

You find yourself getting more and more suggestively flirtatious with Jenna, pressed up against her and grinding together as you lost in the music. Just as things are really starting to heat up, you feel a sudden jolt of recognition. Turning, you lock eyes with a pair of piercing green ones across the bar. 

For a moment, you wonder if you're hallucinating - but then you see the familiar fit physique and messy auburn hair. It's Ellie. Your heart skips a beat as you realize your philosophy teacher is staring you down...

Your heart races as you realize Ellie is watching you closely from across the bar. 

you consider waving her over, but then you remember how the night started - with you confessing your crush to your best friend. 

You also remember Lana's words of wisdom about not wanting to get hurt. 

But then you see the way Ellie is looking at you - like she's undressing you with her eyes. Your resolve weakens. 

Grabbing Jenna's hand, you pull her behind you, pressing her against the bar as you rub up against her boldly. 

You catch Ellie's eye, holding her gaze as you grind against the other girl. 

Jenna laughs, assuming you're just playing around, but you can't help the thrill that shoots through you at the prospect of making your teacher jealous. You lost in the moment, feeling bold and reckless. Who knows what will happen tomorrow - but tonight, you're going to enjoy the thrill of the chase.

As you and Jenna put on a provocative show for Ellie, the philosophy teacher's expression grows more and more dark. 

Her eyes narrow to slits, and her jaw clenches visibly. 

You can practically hear the steam coming out of her ears as she watches you. 

Finally, she appears to reach her limit. Tossing some money on the bar, she storms off into the night, disappearing into the crowd. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, assuming the coast is clear. 

Turning back to Jenna, you grab her face and pull her in for a deep, messy kiss. She kisses you back eagerly, and you lose yourself in the moment. 

As you make out with Jenna, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at having made your teacher jealous. 

But as the night wears on, things start to get a little fuzzy... You remember snippets of making out with Jenna, dancing, and doing shots with new friends. 

But by the time you stumble out of the club in the early hours of the morning, you can barely remember your own name.

The sunlight streaming through your window feels like razor blades in your brain. 

You groggily sit up, your head pounding. 

The events of the previous night come back to you in hazy flashes - dancing, drinking, making out with a stranger. 

You feel a wave of shame wash over you as you realize how far you went. Did you go too far? You try to piece together the details, but your memories are fragmented and hazy. 

Just then, there's a knock at the door. It's Lana, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed despite the early hour. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" she says, bouncing into the room. "How are you feeling?" She looks at you with concern as you wince at the light. "I take it things didn't go exactly as planned last night?" You shake your head, feeling mortified. Lana sits down next to you, taking your hand. 

"Hey, it's okay. We've all been there. But maybe next time, drink more water and less vodka, yeah?" You manage a weak laugh. 

Lana helps you stumble to the bathroom to take some painkillers and splash some water on your face. 

As you're brushing your teeth, you can't help but wonder what Ellie is thinking this morning.

Lana helps you tidy up your room, putting away your clothes and picking up the remnants of the night before. 

As she works, she keeps you company, chatting amiably about everything except the previous evening. 

By the time she leaves you to get ready for classes, your head still throbs, but you feel a bit more human. 

You head to Philosophy 101 with trepidation, wondering how the day will go after your drunken antics last night. As you take your seat, you keep an eye on the door, waiting to see if Ellie will mention anything about your behavior. 

But she says nothing out of the ordinary, launching straight into the day's lecture. You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the situation hasn't become awkward. At least, not yet. 

As the lecture goes on, you can't help but sneak glances at Ellie, wondering if she knows about your encounter with her last night. 

Does she think you're just another cheap drunk? Or did seeing you with another woman make her question her own attraction to you? You try to focus on the lecture, but your mind keeps wandering. One thing's for sure - this is going to be an interesting semester.

As the days go by, you try to put the drunken escapades of the first day behind you. 

You focus on your studies, determined to prove to yourself and everyone else that you're more than just a party animal. 

But no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to get Ellie off your mind. In class, you keep stealing glances at her, wondering if she's noticed any changes in you. 

Sometimes you catch her looking at you, but whenever you meet her gaze, she quickly looks away. Is she avoiding you? Ignoring you? It's impossible to tell. 

You try to talk to Lana about it, but she just laughs and tells you to stop overthinking things. "She's your teacher. It's never gonna happen," she says, rolling her eyes. 

But you can't quite shake the feeling that there's still a spark there, no matter how much Lana denies it. 

One day, as you're packing up your things after class, you notice Ellie's door slightly ajar. 

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you peek inside. She's sitting at her desk, grading papers. Your presence must surprise her, because she looks up with a startled expression. "Can I help you?" she asks, her tone stern but her eyes revealing a flicker of—something.

You hesitate in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. Ellie's gaze bores into you, expecting an explanation. 

"I just...I wanted to apologize for last week," you stammer, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. "I was way out of line, and I'm really sorry." Ellie considers this for a moment, then nods. "Apology accepted," she says simply. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the tension between you seems to be dissipating. As you turn to leave, Ellie clears her throat. "Actually— Can you stay after class today? I have something I want to discuss with you." Her tone is still professional, but there's a hint of something else in her eyes. Something that makes your heart skip a beat—lust. Pure lust in her eyes.

After class, you head to Ellie's office, your heart pounding in your chest. 

What could she possibly want to discuss with you? You knock on the door, and when Ellie invites you in, you take a deep breath and enter. 

The office is bigger than you expected, with bookshelves lining the walls and a desk in the middle. Ellie sits behind the desk, leaning back in her chair.

 "Close the door and have a seat," she says, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. 

You do as you're told, trying to calm your nerves. Ellie studies you for a moment, her eyes roaming over your face. "I've been noticing you in class lately," she begins, her voice low and measured. "You seem...different. More engaged. More curious." She pauses, searching for the right words. 

"I have to admit, I was worried about how you'd handle last week's activities. But you seem to have handled it with maturity." You feel a flush rise to your cheeks at the memory of your drunken escapades. "Thank you," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Ellie leans forward, her eyes locking onto yours. "I think you have the potential to be an excellent philosopher, But it requires dedication, hard work...and a willingness to challenge yourself." She pauses, studying you intently. "Are you up for the challenge?"

You nod eagerly, determined to prove yourself. "Absolutely," you say, meeting Ellie's gaze with a fierce look of your own. "I won't let you down." A small smile plays at the corner of Ellie's lips, and she reaches for a pen and paper. 

"Good," she says, scribbling down her phone number. "In case you need to reach me...or want to discuss some of the ideas we cover in class." She slides the paper across the desk to you. 

You take it, feeling a rush of excitement. Before you can react, Ellie stands, indicating that the meeting is over. "Think about the ideas we discussed today," she says. "And feel free to call me if you have any questions." You leave the office in a daze, the slip of paper clutched tightly in your hand. 

As you walk across campus, you can't help but stare at Ellie's phone number. 

Should you really call her? What would you even say? But then you remember her words - she wants you to challenge yourself. To grow. 

And what could be more challenging than asking out your philosophy teacher? Taking a deep breath, you pull out your phone and dial the number. It rings once...twice...and then Ellie answers. "Hello?" her voice is smooth as silk. "Hi, it's me." There's a pause, and then Ellie laughs. "Of course."

"It's nice to hear from you." Ellie says, her voice warm and friendly. You can almost hear her smiling over the phone.

 "What's up?" You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. "Well...I was hoping maybe we could grab a cup of coffee sometime and discuss some of the ideas from class. You know, challenge myself like you suggested." There's a pause, and for a moment you fear you've overstepped. 

But then Ellie responds. "I'd like that." You feel a surge of excitement, trying to keep your cool. "Great so um, when were you thinking?" How did you go from asking your philosophy teacher for coffee to making plans with her? You're not sure, but you can't help the thrill that shoots through you at the prospect of spending time with Ellie.

 "How about tomorrow afternoon?" she suggests. "There's a cafe just off campus. I know the owner, so we can get a quiet table if you'd like." You agree on a time, and hang up the phone with a huge grin on your face. 

You can't believe it - you're actually going to have coffee with Ellie. And who knows what might happen after that.

The next day, you arrive at the cafe early, nursing a nervous energy. You spot Ellie outside, looking even more finer than usual in a casual grey sweater and jeans. 

She smiles as she sees you, and you can't help but return it. 

Inside, the cafe is cozy and quiet, just as Ellie said. 

You take a seat at a small table by the window, and Ellie joins you a moment later, sliding in across from you. "So," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Tell me more about what you liked about last week's reading. What stood out to you." You launch into a discussion of the finer points of existentialism, surprised at how easily the conversation flows. 

Ellie listens intently, interjecting with insightful questions and comments. Before you know it, an hour has passed, and you feel like you've barely scratched the surface of the topics you want to discuss. 

Glancing at the clock, you realize you've been talking for over two hours. 

Ellie laughs as she catches you checking the time. "I guess we got a bit carried away," she says, smiling. "But I have to say, I'm really enjoying this. It's not often I get to have such thoughtful discussions with my students." You feel a flutter in your chest at her words. Is this a date? Or just a fun intellectual exchange? Either way, you're not ready for it to end.

As you finish up your coffee, Ellie glances at her watch. "I suppose I should let you get to your next class," she says, a hint of reluctance in her voice. 

You stand up, gathering your things, and Ellie does the same. Outside the cafe, she falls into step beside you as you begin the walk back to campus. 

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. "I have to say, I'm impressed," Ellie remarks, glancing at you sidelong. "Most of my students wouldn't bother showing up to a coffee date dressed like that." You feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you realize you're wearing the same outfit you had on the first day of class. 

Ellie must have been checking you out. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. 

As you walk, the conversation continues, flowing easily between you. You discover shared interests and favorite authors, bonding over your love of philosophy. 

By the time you reach your dorm, the sky is dark, and stars are beginning to twinkle overhead. Ellie pauses at your doorstep, looking up at you. "I had a really great time today," she says softly. "Would you like to do it again sometime soon?" Her eyes search yours, and you can't help but wonder what she's looking for. With that, she leans in and presses her lips to yours in a sweet, brief kiss. It's chaste, but filled with promise.

The next few weeks pass in a blur of coffee dates, long walks, and deep discussions about life, philosophy, and everything in between. 

You find yourself falling for Ellie, hard. She's brilliant, passionate, and genuinely interested in you and your thoughts. 

You discover a sexy side to her, too - the way her eyes smolder when she's excited by an idea, or the way her hands move when she's gesturing enthusiastically. But even as you grow closer, you can't shake the feeling that there's something holding Ellie back. 

She's always quick to deflect when you try to get too personal, and there are moments when her expression shifts, just for a second, into something guarded. One evening, as you're walking back to your dorm after another amazing date, you decide to confront her. "Ellie—" you pause for a moment. "what are we?" you continue.

Ellie pauses, looking up at you with those intense green eyes. 

For a moment, you think you see a flicker of fear in their depths. Then her expression smooths into a mask of calm.

 "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice even. You take a deep breath and plunge ahead. "I mean...we've been seeing each other for weeks now. 

We have all these deep talks and go on dates. It feels like more than just a friendship to me. So...what are we?" Ellie looks away, staring up at the stars twinkling overhead.

 "I care about you, Really deeply. But..." She pauses, seeming to struggle with her words. "My job is to teach and mentor you. That's a pretty big power imbalance, and I don't want to compromise your academic experience." 

She looks back at you, her eyes searching yours. "I'm scared that if we keep going down this path, it will complicate things in ways I'm not sure I'm equipped to handle." Your heart aches at the vulnerability in her voice. 

But then Ellie does something unexpected - she reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But I enjoy your company more than anything else in my life right now. So...let's just see where this goes, okay? We'll take things slowly and figure it out as we go. Deal?"

You nod eagerly, not trusting yourself to speak. 

Ellie smiles, squeezing your hand once more before letting go. 

"Good," she says simply. As you continue walking, the weight of her confession hangs in the air between you. 

You're not sure what the future holds, but for now, you're content to enjoy each other's company. When you reach your dorm, Ellie walks you to the door, just like she has every night. 

But this time, instead of kissing you goodbye, she leans in close, her forehead pressing against yours. "I really like you," she whispers. "More than I should." You can feel her words vibrating against your skin.

 "I know it's not ideal, but I don't care. I want to be with you." With that, she pulls back and waits, looking up at you with those deep green orbs. 

You realize this is a turning point. You can walk away now, preserving the status quo. Or you can take a chance on Ellie, and see where this forbidden connection takes you.

You look into Ellie's eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. You feel the same way about her - more than just likes and crushes. 

This is real. And as much as you know you should be careful, you can't bring yourself to let her go. "I really like you too," you whisper, mirroring her words. Ellie's face lights up at your response, and she leans in once more, her lips brushing yours in a sweet, tender kiss. 

It's not a chaste kiss this time - there's heat and promise in it. As you pull back, you realize that this is the start of something new. 

Something that terrifies you, but also fills you with exhilaration. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Ellie asks, her voice filled with hope. You nod, smiling. "Definitely." 

As you step inside your dorm, you can't help but glance over your shoulder at Ellie, who's still standing there, watching you. 

You know that you're taking a risk by being with her. But right now, you don't care. All you can think about is the fact that the woman you've fallen for wants you too. And that's worth fighting for.

It's the week before finals, and you're running on fumes. 

Between classes, work, and your blossoming relationship with Ellie, you're stretched thin. 

You've been putting off studying, hoping you could somehow magically absorb all the material through osmosis. 

But as the pressure mounts, you know you need to buckle down and focus. 

The problem is, you don't know where to start. You consider hitting up Lana, but you know she'll just tell you to chill out and study with her later. 

You need help - and fast. So who do you turn to? Your philosophy teacher, of course. 

You're nervous about asking Ellie for help, but you're more desperate than ever. 

You send her a nervous text. "Hey...I know this is last minute, but would you be willing to help me study for my exams? I feel totally overwhelmed and I know your class is key to understanding a lot of the material. I really appreciate you, and I know this is a big ask..." You wait with bated breath for her response.

You nervously wait for Ellie's response, your phone glued to your hand. 

After what feels like an eternity, you see her name pop up on your screen. "Heyyy, no worries at all, Of course I'd be happy to help you study. 

When were you thinking? How about tomorrow afternoon, we could meet at the library and go over some key concepts together?

also how are you holding up, honestly? Finals week can be really rough. lemme know if u need help with anything else:))" You feel a rush of relief and gratitude at her response. 

You quickly type back a thanks and a confirmation of the study session. 

As you set your phone down, you can't help but smile. Even when you're being a mess, Ellie is there for you. 

She's not just your teacher or your girlfriend - she's a true friend. 

The next day, you meet Ellie at the library and dive into your studying. 

Having her guidance and support makes all the difference. As you work together, you can't help but steal glances at each other, both aware that this is more than just a study session. 

It's a moment of intimacy, of teamwork, of shared goal-oriented effort. And it only serves to strengthen your bond. 

By the time you wrap up your studying, you feel confident and ready for your exams. Plus, you got to spend quality time with the girl you love. It's the perfect outcome. 

As you finish up your studying, Ellie glances at her watch. "We've been at it for a few hours," she remarks. "How about I walk you back to your dorm?" You agree, gathering your things, and Ellie leads you out of the library and onto the quiet campus streets. 

It's a chilly evening, and you can see your breath misting in the air. 

But as you walk alongside Ellie, you don't feel the cold at all. You're too busy stealing glances at her, admiring the way her hair falls in loose waves around her face. Eventually, you arrive at your dorm. You pause at the door, unsure what to do. 

Do you invite her up? Do you kiss her goodbye? Before you can decide, Ellie leans in, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss. 

One moment you're standing there, the next you're wrapped up in each other, hands exploring, tongues entwined. 

The kiss deepens and lengthens, until you're both panting, pressed up against each other. 

Ellie breaks away, her eyes dark with desire. "I want you," she whispers, her voice husky. "Right now." You don't need any further invitation. You lead her inside, your hands roaming, your hearts racing.

Ellie steps inside your dorm room, her eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. She looks around, taking in the scatter of books and clothes, the general chaos of a student's space. 

But her attention is quickly drawn back to you, as she takes a step closer. "Can I...touch you?" she asks softly, her fingers hovering against your cheek. 

You nod, your heart pounding. Ellie's fingers trace the line of your jaw, your neck, slipping beneath your shirt to feel the curve of your shoulder blade. 

Each touch sends shivers down your spine. As her hand explores your body, you can't help but touch her in return - running your fingers through her hair, tracing the shape of her breasts through her hoodie. 

The air between you crackles with electricity. Ellie steps closer still, until her body is pressed up against yours. 

You can feel every curve, every ridge - the swell of her hips, the jut of her collarbone. 

It's like fitting together two puzzle pieces, so perfectly do you mesh. Ellie's head dips down, her lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. She kisses you there, and then suckles gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

One of her hands slips under your shirt, fingers splaying across your stomach. You can feel her warm breath on your skin, her heartbeat pounding in time with yours.

As Ellie's lips trail down your neck, her hand slides further under your shirt, her fingers teasing the waistband of your pants. 

You can feel your heart racing, your breath coming in short gasps. The sensation of her touch, so soft and feather-light, is driving you crazy. You want more. 

Need more. With trembling hands, you reach down to grip Ellie's coat, pulling her closer still. 

Her body presses up against yours, and you can feel every inch of her, from the curve of her breasts to the line of her thighs. It's overwhelming, in the best possible way. 

Ellie's head dips lower, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss. Her tongue slips inside your mouth, tangling with your own. You can taste yourself on her, musky and intimate. As you kiss, Ellie's hand slides further down, fingers brushing against the front of your pants. 

She cups you there, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head. You arch into her touch, a needy little moan escaping your lips. Ellie breaks the kiss, her eyes dark with lust. "Clothes off," she whispers, her voice rough. "Now."

Ellie's words send a jolt of electricity through you. Without breaking eye contact, you reach back and pull your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly across the room. 

Ellie's gaze rakes over your bare torso, her eyes lingering on your nipples, hard and betraying your arousal. She takes a step closer, her hands coming up to palm your breasts, feeling their weight in her hands. 

You let out a shaky breath as she leans in, her lips finding yours once more. 

The kiss is deep and hungry, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. With a strength you didn't know she had, Ellie pushes you back towards the bed. 

You fall onto the mattress, Ellie looming over you, her hands still on your breasts. She leans down, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "I've wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you." With that, she claims your mouth once more, even as she reaches down to start undoing your pants.

As Ellie undoes your pants, you realize you haven't asked her to undress yet. You reach up, grasping at the hem of her hoodie. 

"Take this off," you manage to gasp out between kisses. Ellie nods, breaking the kiss to pull the hoodie over her head, revealing the sports bra beneath. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to her nipples, visible through the thin fabric, straining towards you. You can't help but lick your lips, the sight arousing you further. 

Next, you work on the drawstrings of her pants, pushing them down along with her underwear. 

Ellie steps out of the puddle of fabric, now wearing nothing but her sports bra and socks. You drink in the sight of her, from the toned curves of her arms and shoulders, to the flat plane of her stomach, to the juncture between her thighs. She's beautiful. Perfect. 

You sit up, grasping at the back of her head, pulling her in for a deep, devouring kiss. As you kiss, your hands roam - tracing the lines of her muscles, feeling the dips and curves of her body.

As you kiss Ellie, your hands explore her body, mapping out every dip and curve. 

You can't get enough of her, and you pull her down onto the bed with you. Ellie lands on top of you, her weight a comforting pressure. 

She shifts, straddling your waist, her sex aligning with yours. You can feel the heat of her, even through the thin fabric of her sports bra. 

Ellie breaks the kiss, her eyes dark with desire. She reaches back, deftly takes off her bra. It falls away, revealing her breasts - full and heavy, topped with pink nipples. 

You reach out, taking one in your mouth, suckling gently. Ellie throws her head back, a soft moan escaping her lips. 

As you kiss Ellie, her hands start to roam over your body as well - slipping her hand under your panties to cup your pussy.

She breaks the kiss, her eyes dark with desire as she pulls you back down onto the bed. "On your hands and knees," she orders, her voice husky. 

Obediently, you flip over, presenting yourself to her. Ellie settles between your legs, her hands spreading you apart. 

You can feel her hot breath on your most intimate areas, making you shiver. Her tongue dips out, licking through your folds, finding your clit. 

You let out a choked cry, your back arching off the bed. Ellie laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin as she continues her ministrations. 

She pays special attention to your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between her fingers and sucking them deep into her mouth. You're lost to the sensation, your hips rocking against her face as she brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

Just when you think you can't take anymore, Ellie stops. She flips you over onto your back, her body looming over yours. "what d’you want princess? hm?” she whispers, her eyes burning with need.

You look up at Ellie, your lips parted, your chest heaving. 

You can't form words, not even a whimper. All you can do is point to your pussy, pleadingly. 

Ellie gets the message. She settles between your legs once more, her hands holding you open. 

This time, she doesn't tease - her tongue dives in, licking up your wetness, circling your clit. 

You feel yourself getting close, your walls clenching around nothing. 

Just as you think you're about to tumble over the edge, Ellie stops again. This time, she's got a finger poised at your asshole. 

"Like this?" she asks, looking into your eyes. 

You nod, too far gone to form words. Ellie presses her finger against you, pushing past the initial resistance. 

You feel her digging deeper, curling her finger inside you. It's a weird sensation, but not unpleasant. 

As she fingers you, Ellie leans down, her lips finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss. 

She tastes like you - musky and intimate. You can feel yourself getting close again, your body tensing. 

This time, when you crest, Ellie is there with you. She licks into your mouth, swallowing your cries as she brings you both to climax. You collapse back onto the bed, Ellie half on top of you, both of you panting. Ellie pulls her finger out of you, licking it clean. "Fuck,"

As you catch your breath, Ellie starts cleaning you up with gentle, soothing touches. 

She wipes the sweat from your brow, the saliva from your lips. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, calming you. 

You feel like putty in her hands, pliant and relaxed. Eventually, you're both clean and comfortable, curled up together in a tangle of limbs. 

Ellie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "Goodnight princess." she whispers. You smile, feeling happy and sated. Ellie pulls away, slipping out of bed. 

She gathers up her clothes, stepping into them one piece at a time. As she leaves, she turns back to kiss you once more, her lips soft and warm against yours.

 "I love you," she murmurs. Then she's gone, closing the door quietly behind her. 

You're left alone in the dark, a satisfied smile on your face, her words echoing in your mind. You love her too. More than you ever thought possible.

The next morning, you wake up feeling refreshed and happy. 

You can't help but smile as you remember the previous night's events. 

You're still on cloud nine when you head to philosophy class. But as soon as you walk in and see Ellie at the front of the room, 

all your good feelings evaporate. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as you realize how inappropriate your relationship is. How could you do this with your teacher? You take your seat, keeping your eyes fixed on your notebook. 

But as the class progresses, you can't help but sneak glances at Ellie. She seems distracted too, her usual enthusiasm dampened. 

Eventually, class ends, and you file out with your classmates. Ellie hangs back, waiting for you. 

As everyone else leaves, she steps closer. "Hey—about yesterday... I know this is complicated. But I care about you so much. I don't want anything to ruin what we have. Can we just pretend class is cancelled today? Spend some more time together?" She looks at you with those earnest, hopeful eyes. 

You feel your resolve crumbling. What could a few more hours hurt? "Okay," you find yourself agreeing. "Let's go for a walk."

As you walk with Ellie, you can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Isn't this just repeating itself? You're just delaying the inevitable, aren't you? But the warmth of her hand in yours, the sparkle in her eyes when she looks at you, make you forget your misgivings. 

For the moment, anyway. You walk and talk, enjoying each other's company, trying to ignore the fact that you're alone on campus on a weekend day. 

Eventually, you find yourselves at the edge of the woods. A path stretches into the trees, dark and inviting. 

Without a word, Ellie takes your hand and leads you down it. The canopy of leaves blocks out the sun, casting the forest floor in cool shadows. 

Ellie pulls you into a clearng, the center of which is taken up by a small pond. In the center of the pond is an old stone fountain, dry and cracked. 

Ellie lets go of your hand and walks over to it, running her fingers over the worn surface. "I used to come here a lot when I was a student," she says softly. "It was my escape." She looks at you then, her eyes dark with emotion. "I know this is wrong, I'm your teacher, and you're my student. But I can't help how I feel. And I don't want to lose you." She takes a step closer, her hands reaching out.

As Ellie steps closer, you can see the desperation in her eyes. She wants to touch you, to hold you, but she's holding herself back. "I think... I think we need to take a break," she says softly.

 "Not from each other, from all of this. From the secrecy, from the taboo. It's eating away at me, wondering when someone is going to find out. 

When this is going to blow up in our faces." She takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. "I don't want to lose you, but I also don't want to do something that could ruin your life. You're too important to me." You feel a pang in your chest at her words. 

She's right, of course. But the idea of giving up what you have with her is impossible. You reach out and take her hand, squeezing it. "No," you say firmly. "I don't want to give up what we have either. We'll find a way to make this work." Ellie looks at you, her eyes searching. "How, How are we going to make this work when everything is against us?"

Ellie's eyes darken with emotion at your words. She wants to believe you, wants to think that you can overcome all the obstacles in your way. 

But she knows, deep down, that it's unlikely. She pulls her hand away, rubbing her temples as if to ward off a headache. "I think... I think we need to stop seeing each other. Until we can figure out a way to make this work, we need to stay away from each other. For your own good, for both of our sakes." Her voice cracks on the last word, betraying the pain she feels. 

She looks at you then, her eyes pleading. "Can we do that? Can we stay away from each other for a little while, until we can come up with a plan?" You feel a lump rise in your throat at her words. 

The idea of not seeing her, not touching her, feels like a death sentence. But she's right, of course. You both need to take a step back and regroup. With a heavy heart, you nod. "Yeah," you say softly. "Yeah, I think you're right." Ellie exhales shakily, some of the tension leaving her body. 

"Okay, then. We'll do that. We'll stay away from each other until we can figure this out." She looks at you one last time before turning and walking back through the woods, leaving you alone by the pond.

It's been a few days since you and Ellie decided to take a break. The last few days have been a blur of sadness and loneliness. 

You've been lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, missing her more than you ever thought possible. 

Just as you're starting to drift off to sleep, you hear a soft knock at the door. You stare at it in surprise - who could it be at this hour? You shuffle over and open the door, finding Ellie standing there, looking pale and exhausted. "Can I come in?" she asks softly. You nod, moving aside to let her in. 

As she enters and closes the door behind her, you can't help but notice how different she looks from the vibrant, energetic Ellie you know. 

This version looks defeated, her eyes shadowed by lack of sleep and worry. "I've been thinking a lot about us, about this situation. And I think I know how we can make it work." She looks at you, her eyes pleading. "But we're going to have to trust each other completely. Can you do that for me?"

As Ellie finishes speaking, you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to make this work. "Yes," you find yourself agreeing. "I can do that." Ellie's face brightens at your words, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Good. Because I don't want to live in a world without you in it, princess." She reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you towards the door. "Come on, let's go for a walk. We need to get out of this room." You follow her quietly, enjoying the feeling of her hand in yours. As you walk, Ellie talks, explaining her plan for how you two can be together. 

It's ambitious, and it won't be easy. But with Ellie by your side, you're willing to try anything. 

The walk eventually leads you to a quiet neighborhood, one you've never been to before. Ellie pauses in front of a small, cozy house. "This is my house," she says softly. “come inside with me?” You feel a blush rise to your cheeks, knowing what will likely happen once you're inside. 

But you want to be with her, no matter what. "Okay," you agree.

As you follow Ellie into her home, you feel a sense of nervous anticipation. You know what's likely to happen next, and a part of you is thrilled, while another part is terrified. 

Once inside, Ellie locks the door behind you, turning to face you with a serious expression. "Listen, princess," she says softly. "What happens next is up to you. If you want to stop, if you want to leave, just say the word. But if you're willing to take a chance on us, then...then I want to show you just how much I care." She takes a step closer, her eyes burning into yours.

 "I want to make you feel so so good baby girl. I want to show you that we can make this work." As she speaks, she reaches up and cups your face, her thumbs brushing against your cheeks. 

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her touch.

Ellie's words send a jolt of electricity through you, her touch setting you ablaze. 

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing growing ragged. "Show me," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible. 

Ellie smiles softly at your response, her eyes darkening with possessiveness and desire.

She guides you further into the house, leading you upstairs to a small bedroom. 

It's simply furnished, with a large bed taking up most of the space. Ellie walks over to it and sits down, patting the space beside her. "C’mere baby," she invites, her voice low and husky. 

You hesitate for a moment, your hands shaking as you remove your clothing. 

But as you climb onto the bed and settle beside Ellie, you feel a sense of rightness, of coming home. 

Ellie pulls you close, wrapping her arms around you and holding you tight. Her lips find yours in a soft, sweet kiss. 

 she kisses you, her hands start to roam - tracing the lines of your back, the curve of your hips. She rolls you onto your back, looking down at you with those earnest, adoring eyes. "I love you, princess, so so much.” she whispers.

As Ellie's lips meet yours, you feel like you're melting into her embrace. Her touch is electric, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire. 

You kiss her back with all the passion and love in your heart, your arms wrapping around her waist, holding her close. 

As she rolls you onto your back, you feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you. 

But it's a good vulnerability, a trusting kind. 

You look up at her, seeing the love in her eyes, and you know that everything is going to be okay. 

Ellie's hands start to explore your body, tracing patterns on your skin, tugging gently at your clothes. 

She undresses you slowly, reverently, each article of clothing eliciting a soft gasp from you as it's pulled away. 

Once you're naked, Ellie settles between your legs, her eyes feasting on your bared flesh. 

You feel her warm breath on your most intimate area, making you shiver. 

And then her tongue touches you, sliding through your folds, seeking out your clit. You let out a soft cry of pleasure, your hips arching off the bed as she begins to lick and suck at you.

After a while, Ellie slows down her ministrations, her tongue dragging lazily through your wet folds. 

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. Without a word, she climbs off the bed and walks over to the closet. 

You hear her rummaging around in it for a moment before she returns, a long, thick strap-on dangling from her hand. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of it, a mixture of excitement and nervousness washing over you. Ellie looks at you, her expression serious. "ready princess?" she asks softly. 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You nod, your mouth too dry to form words. 

Ellie helps you move into position, her hands guiding your hips as she presses the thick head of the strap-on against your entrance. You feel a moment of hesitation, of doubt, but then the head begins to slip inside, stretching you in ways you've never been stretched before. 

You gasp, your body tensing as Ellie works the strap-on deeper inside you. Finally, it's all the way in. 

You feel full, so very full. But in a good way, like you're being filled with potential, with possibility. Ellie leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "We're gonna take it slow," she promises.

As Ellie begins to move the strap-on inside you, you feel a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. 

It's a lot to take, being stretched and filled in ways your body isn't used to. 

But Ellie is patient, letting you adjust to the sensation. 

She starts off slow, her hips rocking in a steady, rhythmic motion. You feel yourself relaxing into it, your body starting to crave the sensation. 

As Ellie picks up speed, you start to feel a building pressure inside you, a sense of anticipation. 

It's like your body is getting ready to explode, to release all the tension and pleasure that's been building. And then, suddenly, you're coming. 

Your whole body seizes up as your climax hits, your fingers clutching at the sheets, your toes curling. Ellie keeps thrusting through your orgasm, riding it out with you. 

Finally, she slows to a stop, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

You collapse back onto the bed, spent and satisfied. Ellie lies down beside you, pulling you close. "That was amazing," she murmurs. "But I know it was a lot. Are you okay, princess?"

You nod As you lie there, caught on the wave of afterglow, Ellie tends to you with gentle, loving care. 

She takes the strap-on out of you, cleaning you up with soft cloths and warm water. Her touch is soothing, calming any lingering discomfort. Once you're clean, she sets about filling you up with soft, sweet kisses. Her lips trail across your skin, dotting your body with tiny pecks. She pays special attention to your breasts, your hips, your inner thighs. Each kiss feels like a promise, a seal of love and affection. As she kisses you, she wraps her arms around you, holding you close. You can feel her heart beating against your own, a steady, reassuring rhythm. "I love you," she whispers, punctuating her words with more kisses. "So very much."

“I love u too Els.”

tag list— @youfoundheavenn @gaylittleellie @xaaaavleg @sleepy-sheep-things

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗯𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱

daughter of aphrodite! reader x luke castellan 💘

IN WHICH.. luke would carry the world on his shoulders for the approval of your mother

warning! this fic contains- like two cuss words // feminine reader // one slight reference to sex (lukes a virgin lolol) // not proofread (yet)

🎧- bewitched by laufey

3.3k

You had always been the favorite of your mother, Aphrodite. With the way she frequently delivered extravagant gifts, ranging from beauty supplies to carefully crafted swords, it was clear you were granted special treatment from the typically vain goddess. Others grew envious of your glorious relationship, watching from afar as you had yet another conversation with her. 

The unfortunate truth was that you worked your ass off to receive a fraction of affection from your mother. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready, biting your tongue as others gossiped about you, and training hours per day were just some of the cruel circumstances you had to endure in order to keep up your facade. Everything about you had to be seemingly perfect, which is hard to maintain when living in such harsh conditions.

Your ethereal beauty and charming personality gained the attention of many, making Aphrodite proud. However, no matter how many demigods asked you out, they were all politely declined. This wasn’t a personal choice, but instead one forcefully implemented by your mom. 

Every camper knew of the strange rule the goddess had set for you. Not one soul would be allowed to take you on a date without her approval. Unfortunately for you, she was extremely strict and harsh when choosing. It was odd that the ruler of love would prevent her dearest kin from experiencing the joys of having a partner, but the gods did little with rationality.

During your weekly prayer one evening, you found yourself pondering why Aphrodite seemed to reject all suitors. Seeking answers, you broached the subject with her. In response, Aphrodite professed a desire for nothing but the best for you, her words punctuated by the subtle shifts in her mood. Intrigued by her cryptic response, you couldn't help but remain curious, uncertain whether she spoke the truth or spun another detailed tale.

Among the crowd of diligent campers who showered you with attention, there remained one who truly stood out. Luke Castellan, the offspring of Hermes, had harbored a profound admiration for you from the moment of your arrival. While others were fixated solely on your captivating exterior, he found himself drawn to the depths of your enchanting personality. Your passionate expression for the things that ignited your soul—be it delving into the mysteries of ancient artworks or nurturing the vibrant flower fields—held him spellbound.

One day, the immense ache in his lovelorn heart became too agonizing to bear. As the sun awoke from its slumber and you elegantly devoured a ripe pear, he asked you to follow him into the lush forest. Despite the slightly sketchy request, you obliged, trusting Luke with your whole heart.

"I hate to sound blunt, but why are we here again?" You queried, batting away pesky flies and dodging branches that lunged out intrusively.

"I'm determined to take you out," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with confidence, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep in as you cringed with uncertainty.

“Luke, you know how my mom feels-“ 

“Yeah, I know how your mom feels. But how do you feel?” He blurted, his coffee brown eyes staring deep into yours, and for a moment, you saw the deepest part of him that was hidden from the rest of the world. 

“What’d mean?” You questioned him, trying to wrap your head around his statement, like it was a foreign concept for someone to ask how you perceived the situation.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” Luke whispered.

“I’d love to, but she-“ His response was accompanied by a light shake of his head, his voice gaining intensity as he delivered his next sentence with austerity.

“Tell me the truth. If Aphrodite wasn’t your mother, would you date me?”

Silence flooded the woods; it seemed even the birds stopped singing to hear your much-awaited response. 

“Yes, I would.” You said it honestly, twiddling with your hands out of nervousness for your mother’s reaction.

“Okay then. I have a plan; don’t worry.” Luke interlocked your fingers, gently dragging you back to the pavilion with a grin plastered across his face.

As the day unfolded in its familiar rhythm, there was an intriguing twist: you found yourself stealing glances at Luke more frequently, your fondness for him blossoming rapidly. Anticipation brewed as you prayed for the success of whatever scheme Luke had concocted. Yet, the nagging suspicion of your mom’s disapproval gnawed at you, even if Luke was nicknamed the camp's "golden boy."

As dusk approached and dinner was served, the absence of Luke grasped your attention. The atmosphere lacked the presence of a couple other different Hermes offspring, too; the usual crowd at the wooden picnic tables was now missing. Brushing aside budding concerns, you settled beside your siblings, concealing any anxieties that threatened your composure.

You would have thought Hades took a visit to Cabin 11 with the way everyone was scrambling around. Dozens of clothes littered the floor, the room looking as if a freight train plowed through. Luke was in the center of the mess, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully examined his outfit options.

“A suit is definitely too much, right? I mean, I think it would be weird to go completely dressed out.” He started, with Chris standing next to him as they both pondered.

“Yeah, yeah. Ditch the suit.” His friend replied, tossing the crisp attire back into the closet. 

“So do I wear the camp shirt or something else?” Luke interrogated the rest of the children.

“Camp shirt.” Chris said, but another older female camper chimed in.

“Obviously not. It’s a disgusting neon orange.” She declared, rolling her eyes.

“I think it makes him look devoted to the camp.” Chris defended.

“Oh please, it washes him out. Try this navy blue top.” The Hermes girl tossed a crinkled polo at him, turning away as he slipped the shirt on.

Luke looked in the mirror, pleased with his choice. All of his peers stared at him in judgment before coming to the conclusion that the deep blue suited him.

“Told you. Now hurry up. You can’t miss dinner.” She uttered, shooing him out of the packed cabin. 

All eyes were focused on him as he walked to supper since he was out of the appropriate attire. He snagged his dinner, rushing to sit next to you. 

“Cute shirt. A little late though; dinner's almost over.” You complimented, and the rest of your fashion-inclined siblings nodded in agreement. Luke felt his cheeks flush from your words and because of the overwhelming stares provided by campers.

“Thank you. I’m not really hungry anyway." He responded, which wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was doing cartwheels as he counted down the minutes until the burnt offerings. As soon as the sound echoed through the air, he practically sprinted to be the first.

He slid almost all his food into the metal tin can (which he would definitely miss later that night when he went to bed hungry) and, with shaky hands, lit the dinner. The aroma of multiple dishes mixed into one and then set on fire was putrid, but luckily for Luke, that’s just what he needed to catch the attention of Aphrodite.

As she heard the pleads of the boy, who was begging for a conversation, and smelled the smoke, it was enough to send her spiraling down onto Earth. She was gorgeous—ten times prettier than any image Luke could have pictured in his head.

“I'm Luke Castellan.” He stumbled out nervously, but recollected and gathered his thoughts.

“I want to date your daughter, Y/N.” He declared, noticing the way the goddess looked away with anger. 

“And before you say anything,” he continued, “I swear I have the best intentions.” 

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, inspecting him.

“I don’t know. Many boys just like you have claimed the same.” She spoke to him with such clarity.

“It’s different; I can promise you that. I’m a good kid.” He pleaded, growing desperate as he swallowed.

“You aren’t sounding much different than the children before you.” She replied, and Luke could tell she was about to walk away, so he did what he thought was best and blurted out what came to mind.

“I’ve never smoked, I pray to the gods every night, and to be honest, I rarely step foot out of camp. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, and I’m the best swordsman in camp—at least that’s what everyone says. I’m still a virgin, and I’ve never even glanced at another girl in any romantic way because the only one I have eyes for is your daughter. Please, ma’am.”

Aphrodite's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth agape at his sudden speil. She had to admit that it was quite impressive.

“Hm, I suppose you have made a compelling argument. I’ll let you take her out on one date, but only if it goes well will you be allowed to see her again. And she must approve of you.”

Luke smiled at her, letting out heavy breaths he didn't even know he was holding on to. 

“Thank you so much. I can assure you, you won’t regret it.” He thanked the goddess, who just shrugged and left him in the dark forest. Too thrilled to care, he joyfully jogged back to the cabins, where his bunkmates patiently waited.

He shoved his way inside, panting, excitement bubbling within him. The air in the cabin seemed to crackle with anticipation as everyone turned their attention toward him, their eyes lit with curiosity, waiting for him to spill the details of what had transpired.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. Instantly, the air was filled with the sound of cheers and joyous squeals, his friends erupting into a wave of celebratory exclamations.

“Well, sorta. As long as the first date goes okay,” Luke added, his enthusiasm slightly dampening as he lowered his head, a hint of uncertainty tainting the original exhilaration of his announcement. The cabin fell into a sudden hush, a sense of disappointment crushing the once great news. 

“Then we better get to planning,” Chris interjected, lighting a spark of hope. Everyone returned to their primary delirium, huddling together to craft the picture perfect night.

Campers threw out ideas for the date on the spot, ranging from the location to his preferred mannerisms. His sisters used their experiences with being a women to instruct him on how to act, telling him what was considered acceptable and what to avoid. The rest of his siblings and friends scoped out the land, deciding on the perfect site.

After enduring the lengthy schooling, Luke stole a fleeting moment away from his lesson, his heart set on sharing the newfound momentous revelation with you. The bonfire raged on, campers swarming around it like hungry sharks. Old friendships were being rekindled, and new bonds were forming. Admits the social circle stood you, who laughed as you spoke to the Apollo kids.

With a grin that illuminated his features, Luke observed you from a distance, captivated by the infectious positivity that radiated from you. As you strayed away from the chaotic crowd, your eyes met his. His feet propelled him forward, drawing him towards you. 

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice filled with genuine excitement as he approached.

“Hey! Guess what?” Luke's words tumbled out in a rush, his eagerness present as he awaited your reaction.

“What’s up?” you inquired, intrigued by his anxious body language.

“Your mom said yes,” Luke revealed, his expression a mix of anticipation and restrained enthusiasm.

“What?” you gasped, disbelief coloring your features before giving way to unbridled joy.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, the thrill evident in his voice.

Excitement flourished within you, causing you to leap into his arms, angelic laughter filling the atmosphere as he lifted you up and spun you around. The cutesy scene hooked the attention of others, whispers beginning to travel.

Like a raging wildfire, Luke's announcement spread swiftly through the crowd, resonating with everyone within earshot. Within minutes, the joyous information spread through the gathering. Some were jealous, spreading rumors the moment they heard them, and some were just happy for the two.

Neither of you cared about the whispers and gossiping of those around you, their chatter fading into the background as you were enveloped in his warm embrace. The world seemed to melt away as he gently set you down, his touch lingering on your skin.

As you looked up into his eyes, time seemed to stand still, and the intensity of your love was reflected in the depths of his gaze. With each beat of your heart, you felt a surge of affection wash over you, your gaze softening as you looked upon him with adoration. There, in the depths of his eyes, you found comfort, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

"7 o'clock okay for tomorrow?" Luke's voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to the present moment. His words sent a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Mhm," you murmured in response, your mind still lingering on the warmth of his touch, until a daughter of Demeter called you over, disrupting the spell cast by Luke. As you tore yourself away, a shiver raced down your spine, the absence of his soothing hands leaving you feeling strangely hollow.

In the darkness of the night, neither of you seemed able to sleep with the thought of each other prominent in your minds. Remembering all of the special moments you shared, even before today, summoned a mixture of emotions. If this date didn’t go according to plan, the memories would be permanently lost, drowned out by new experiences.

Eventually, Hypnos blessed you with a night’s rest, and before you knew it, it was 6 p.m., an hour before the long-awaited gathering with Luke. Your siblings were currently helping you get ready in the vast space that was the Aphrodite cabin.

"Do you know where he's taking you?" Urged your closest sister, her fingers deftly working through your hair as she leaned in.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you met her gaze in the mirror, uncertainty dancing in your eyes. "No, not really," you admitted with a sigh, feeling a knot of anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach as you nervously tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination as she dropped the task of defining your hair, her attention now fully focused on the impending dilemma. With a sense of urgency, she hurriedly crossed the room to her bustling closet, the sound of fabric rustling filling the air as she searched for the perfect outfit.

You watched her with amusement, as she rummaged through her collection.

With a triumphant exclamation, she emerged from the depths of her closet, a victorious smile gracing her lips as she presented you with a selection of carefully curated outfits. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work," she declared with confidence, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to lay out the options before you.

She presented you with a breathtaking spring dress, its delicate fabric decorated with teensy flowers. You ran your fingers over the dainty material, embracing its beauty.

"It's perfect," you breathed in awe, your voice barely above a whisper, as you marveled at the garment.

"I know, right!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she twirled around in delight. "This is so exciting! Your first date!" she continued, her words bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued to fuss over your appearance.

You attempted to summon a smile, but despite your best efforts, the flicker of unease in your eyes did not go unnoticed by your sister.  She gently squeezed your hand, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"What's wrong?" She questioned you softly, her hands pausing in their task of arranging your hair as she turned to look at you through the expansive vanity mirror.

"It's nothing, really. Just... anxious, I guess," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to find the right words to express the complexity of your thoughts.

"Hey, it'll go great. And if not, there's a long line of suitors out there waiting for you," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth and understanding, "so I'm sure Mom would approve of at least one of them."

"But I don't want it to be them," you confessed, your voice shaky as you admitted your true feelings. "I want it to be Luke."

She slightly frowned, grabbing your head and leaning into you. You shut your eyes to block the tears, discovering a place of love in her arms. A sudden knock on the wood door interrupted the warmth of silence.

She hopped up with eager anticipation, practically skipping to the door to greet Luke. As she opened it, you seized the opportunity to slip into the closet and change into the dress she had requested.

Luke stood on the doorstep, his hands fidgeting with a bouquet of ethereal flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. A hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he glanced around, searching for you.

"Uh, is Y/N here?" he asked, his voice laced with nervousness as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yes, she is," your friend replied, her tone firm, her gaze locking onto Luke's with determination. "But before you go any further, I need to warn you. You must take excellent care of her, no matter what. Because if you don't, I'll come find you personally."

“I promise.” He stuck out his pinky, interlocking it with hers to signify an agreement he would uphold. Stepping outside the cramped enclosure, you checked your reflection and headed towards the door. 

"Hi!" you exclaimed, your voice ringing out into the air, breaking through the awkward tension that had settled between the two of them. Luke's shoulders visibly relaxed as he turned to face you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon noticing your presence.

"Hey." He whispered softly, capturing in the sight of you standing before him, your captivating looks leaving him momentarily speechless. You smiled, threading your arm between his and escaping the cabin. 

"I brought you these." Luke stated, his voice tinged with admiration as he handed you the colorful floral arrangement. You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, the fragrance of the flowers filling the air as you gently wafted them in your hand.

"Thank you," you replied sincerely, touched by his thoughtful gesture, "they're beautiful."

Lost in conversation, you continued hiking together, the winding path leading you deeper into the heart of the forest.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke had a destination in mind, his steps purposeful as he guided you along the trail . The scenery around you shifted, the dense foliage giving way to a small deserted landscape.

Atop the grassy bank, a thick picnic blanket lay spread out, its vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the lush greenery that surrounded it. An assortment of fruits and treats adorned the blanket, ranging from juicy strawberries to decadent chocolates.

As you settled onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning your every movement, you couldn't help but marvel at the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before you. Stretching out into the distance was the icy blue lake, its surface shimmering in the golden light of the sun, which peeked over the horizon as if to witness the magic of the moment.

As the minutes flew by, the loud croaking of cicadas immersed and the sky gradually transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars.

Wrapped in Luke's arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries and uncertainties of the day melting away.

In that moment, as you lay together under the vast starlit sky, you felt a profound connection to Luke. A realization that filled you with a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Whether your mom approved of your relationship or not (spoiler alert: she did), it didn't matter. What mattered was that you were with Luke, and in his arms, protected from the surrounding cruel world.

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 16 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: cursing, mentions of Taehyung punching Jungkook, alcohol, explicit content: car sex, hickey, oral sex (female receiving), begging, fingering, praising, jerking off, big dick!Jungkook, unprotected sex (please don't be stupid)

☆word count: 8.9k

☆a/n: almost done :( i hope you guys love this chapter, it makes me very soft :') thank you to @moonleeai beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Monday, October 14th

You wake up slowly, soft snores by your ear rousing you from your slumber. You’re confused for a time, not recognizing the scene, but the second your eyes lay on Jungkook, everything comes back.

The fear, the hurrying back home, the tears and the confessions. Everything comes back with stark clarity, and you smile as you peek towards Jungkook. 

He’s sleeping on his side, facing you, his hand resting on your stomach. His lips are slightly parted, and it soon becomes evident that he is the source of the snoring as he takes a deep breath, letting it out as a rumble through his chest. It’s adorable, and your heart melts at the sight, filling with warmth for him.

But unfortunately you woke up for a reason, and that reason is because you need to go to the bathroom. So you carefully remove Jungkook’s hand from your stomach, and he slightly frowns, his mouth closing. You’re afraid you’ve woken him up, but the snoring resumes a few seconds later, and you reach into the space between you, gently pushing a strand of his hair back from his face. You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead, lips lingering on his skin for a few seconds before you pull away, sliding out from underneath the covers to get up. 

The floor is cold under your feet, and you shiver, searching the dark room for a shirt to put on. You find one of Jungkook’s t-shirts, and you immediately put it on, shivering some more once you’re half-dressed, the shirt more like a dress on you.

You tiptoe out of Jungkook’s room, gently shutting the door behind you. The orange light from the neon light outside in the street illuminates the living room, guiding your steps to the bathroom. But light filters from underneath the door, and you freeze in the middle of the room when the door opens, revealing Taehyung.

He takes in the sight of you, clenching his jaw as he turns off the light from the bathroom. You just stare at him for a few seconds, your nails digging into your palms at the reminder of the anger you harbour for him.

“Everything okay in there?” he asks.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah. No thanks to you.”

“Y/n…”

“Are you done in there?” you query, taking a few steps forward as you motion to the bathroom.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.”

The apology falls flat, and you stop, folding your arms on your chest. “I just want to go to the bathroom.”

He gauges you for a time, holding your gaze, and then he steps to the side. “Jungkook and I talked,” he admits. “We’re good. That’s why he came back.”

“Good for you,” you let out as you walk the rest of the way to the bathroom.

Taehyung stops you from closing the door, slapping his hand on it. “I really am sorry,” he insists. “I was pissed at him, not at you.”

“You should not have been pissed at any of us, Taehyung,” you seethe through your teeth. “I’m an adult. I am allowed to do what I want to do. What was so wrong with it?”

“Jungkook is…” he trails off. “Was the kind of guy that would just hurt girls. I didn’t want that for you.”

“It was none of your business,” you say. 

He sighs. “I would have just appreciated it if you guys told me before.” He pauses, his arm falling at his side, but you don’t move to close the door just yet. “I kind of knew. I had my suspicions all semester, and then in Paris too.” He takes a deep breath, glancing towards his bedroom. “I really would have just liked that you guys tell me. Now I just feel blindsided.”

You clench your jaw, shutting your eyes. “Taehyung. You have nothing to do with my relationships. We did not have to tell you shit, and you were not blindsided. You had nothing to do with us.”

“He’s my best friend, and you’re my sister,” Taehyung says. “I’m not saying I should have been involved in the relationship, Y/n. I just wish you’d trusted me and told me.”

You slowly shake your head. “It’s not like you gave me any reasons to trust you, Tae. You told him to not touch me.”

Taehyung snorts. “That didn’t stop him. Pretty sure it just spurred him on.”

For a moment, you just stand there, your gaze widening. You see that Taehyung is trying his hardest, but you’re not ready to forgive him. You don’t even know if you want to forgive him - he came very close to ruining everything between you and Jungkook, and you don’t think you can forgive him for it.

“Seriously, I’m sorry,” Taehyung adds after a few seconds, his baritone voice barely over a whisper. “I fucked up. But we laughed about the fact I punched him so, I guess we’re good?”

You’ll never understand guys. If you were Jungkook, you would hate Taehyung for the rest of your life. But you reckon maybe you should take a page out of Jungkook’s book.

“I don’t think he’s upset with you,” you carefully reply.

Taehyung nods, sensing that you probably don’t want to speak about it anymore. So he says, “I hope you guys manage to fix things. I’ve never seen Jungkook so distressed about someone before.”

“I think there’s a lot that you don’t know about him,” you say.

There’s a lot you don’t know yourself, too.

“Ah, that’s fine,” Taehyung says, shrugging his shoulders. 

Guys and their friendships indeed.

“M’kay,” you let out. “I… I’ll go now.”

Taehyung nods again. “Sounds good. Sorry again.”

“Stop apologizing, you’re getting on my nerves.”

He snorts. “There’s my sister.”

He moves to ruffle your hair, and you push him away as he laughs. “Good night, Tae.”

“Good night, Y/n.”

And though you don’t think you’ve forgiven your brother yet, you feel a little lighter when you go back to bed, Jungkook pulling you back into his embrace with a soft sigh.

Friday, October 18th

You’re anxious. You don’t know why - it’s just Jungkook, but this will be your first real date, and there’s something about it that renders you anxious, palms sweaty as you check your makeup for the thousandth time in the mirror, making sure that it’s perfect.

Your friends were relieved when you told them what happened last Sunday. When you explained the misunderstanding, and that you and Jungkook were good now. You could have cried saying it. Jungkook and I are good now. 

You never would have believed yourself if you’d said you’d end up with Jungkook, months ago. Hell, you recall the Incident - it was the first step into the madness that falling for Jungkook was, but now you feel as sane as ever.

Jungkook is your sanity, as much as he’s your insanity.

But yes, your friends were all happy for you. Even Yoongi, though he did complain that he was the last one standing in the single zone. You don’t think he’ll be there for much longer. You see how the reception guy has been eyeing Yoongi up, and you know Yoongi just needs a push in the right direction. 

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you straighten. Your makeup is perfect - Ria helped, though she left twenty minutes ago, as she had a date with Seokjin to get to. 

She’d screamed when she’d seen your Yves St-Laurent dress. You felt like it was fitting to wear it tonight, considering that Jungkook bought it for you. It fits you just as well as it did then, making you feel like a princess once again. But it does nothing for the nerves in your stomach - you think you need to see Jungkook for that to be solved.

“Okay,” you whisper, grabbing your purse and your phone. 

Jungkook texted you three minutes ago to tell you he was ready, and to meet him in the living room. You’d thought it was funny, but right now, as your hand reaches for the doorknob, you wonder if you should tell him you’re sick.

You’ve never been this anxious about a date before.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath.

“Y/n?” Jungkook says on the other side of your door, and you let out a startled shriek. “Everything okay?”

“Yes!” you quickly reply. “Yes, sorry, I’m almost ready.”

“Okay.”

You take a deep breath, amassing whatever courage you can find, and then you finally open the door.

Jungkook looks beautiful. He’s dressed in black dress pants, with just a white linen dress shirt that he’s tucked in the pants. It’s rolled around his forearms, revealing the ink on his right arm. He’s styled his hair for the occasion too, revealing more forehead than you’re used to seeing with him, and you’re hit with the musky scent of his cologne a second later.

Most of all, your eyes catch in the huge colourful bouquet of flowers he’s holding.

“Oh,” you let out. “You didn’t have to get me flowers.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to. But I couldn’t decide which colour you’d want, so I told them to put a little bit of everything.”

“Kook…”

He grins. “I hope you like it.”

You can’t help the smile curving your lips. “I love it.”

You grab the flowers, inhaling their fragrance as Jungkook just looks at you, his grin falling into a much smaller lovesick smile.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments you, and a light blush takes over your cheeks as you eye him up and down.

“So do you.”

He smirks. “Ready?”

You nod, though you raise the bouquet. “I should probably put this in water.”

You do so, heading towards the kitchen to find a glass big enough to put the flowers in it. You indeed do not own a vase, and Jungkook pouts and apologizes for it.

You kiss his cheek to reassure him, and then you carry the flowers back to your room, putting them on your desk. A second later, you’re back in the hall in front of the door, and Taehyung and Ariane wave goodbye as Jungkook grabs your hand.

“We’ll see you losers later!” you say, and Taehyung laughs.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he replies.

Jungkook laughs, saying, “Fuck off, Tae.”

You grab a coat from the closet - the weather has grown colder in the last few days, and though Jungkook is driving you to the restaurant he chose, you don’t want to get sick around your midterms. Jungkook puts a coat on too, and a second later you’re walking outside, the wind catching in the lapels of your coat. You shiver, hurrying down the stairs.

“Shit, it’s cold,” you grumble.

Jungkook kisses your forehead, and suddenly it feels like the warmest summer day.

“Let’s hurry then,” he says, and you hold hands as you walk to his car, which fortunately isn’t parked too far.

You blast the heat the second the engine purrs to life, and Jungkook laughs next to you, his hand finding your thigh. You chat about everything and nothing as he drives you to the restaurant, and he drops you right in front of the doors despite the fact that he needs to go park further away. You complain about it, saying that you’re fine to walk with him, but the stern look he sends you makes you pout, though you obey and slide outside of the car to walk into the restaurant. 

It’s fancy. You’d expected it to be fancy, but you didn’t think it would be fancy fancy. There’s a huge crystal candelabra hanging from the ceiling in the hall, the lights catching in the crystal and reflecting the multiple facets. The walls are covered in red tapestry, and fake dark wood columns climb the walls as if they’re holding up the ceiling.  It’s beautiful, extravagant, and though you feel out of place, you know that you’re okay.

You belong anywhere in the world where Jungkook is, and tonight, it’s at this restaurant. 

Jungkook meets you in the lobby a few minutes later, cheeks red from the cold wind outside. His hair is slightly ruffled, a lone strand having escaped from the confines of his hairstyle, and you immediately reach up to push it back.

“Thanks,” Jungkook says, tugging you close to kiss your cheek. “Let’s go.”

You walk up to the desk, behind which the hostess has been waiting for you. She smiles at the two of you, and then leads you to the table that Jungkook reserved for the evening.

The restaurant proper is just as beautiful as the hall, with its dim lights that hint at a romantic ambiance. Candles adorn the center of every table, on top of white tablecloths lined with gold. You’re pretty sure the glasses on the table are also made of crystal, but you don’t focus on them long enough to tell as Jungkook helps you out of your coat, draping it over the chair he’s pulled for you.

“You’re such a gentleman,” you tease as he walks around the table and sits in front of you.

“Esmeralda raised me well,” he answers.

You furrow your brows in question. “Esmeralda?”

He smiles gently. “My nanny.”

Oh.

He hasn’t told you much about her, but you know he cared for her a lot. It shows in the way his eyes dip to the table, and in the deep breath that he takes, heaviness settling on him.

“I’m sure she was a wonderful woman,” you gently say.

He nods, meeting your gaze again. “She was the best. She would have loved you.”

You’re not sure about that statement, but it makes butterflies take flight in your stomach all the same. 

“I would have loved her, too.”

Jungkook’s smile grows bigger as the heaviness lifts, and he looks at you with the sparkles in his doe eyes that you’ve come to love so much through the months.

Before you can speak more, you’re handed menus for drinks. Jungkook suggests a bottle of red wine, and you accept the offer, trusting him more than you to know what to drink at a place like this. As the waitress takes the order, you glance around to the other couples, fast in intimate conversations all around you. Jazz music is playing over hidden speakers just loud enough so that you can’t hear the people around you, and it really makes for an intimate ambiance, like maybe it’s just you and Jungkook in the restaurant tonight.

“You like it?” Jungkook asks when the waitress leaves.

“Like it?” you repeat.

“The restaurant.”

You nod, scanning the place with your gaze once more, before setting your eyes on him. “Yes. It seems really fancy though.”

“I can’t treat my girl?”

Your mouth falls open as your heart starts racing in your chest. “Your girl?”

He grins. “Are you not my girl?”

You’re blushing. You’re blushing like crazy, yet you can’t help the small happy dance that takes over you. Indeed, you squirm on your chair, smiling wide as Jungkook chuckles softly.

“That’s right, I’m your girl,” you reply. “And you’re my boy.”

He scrunches up his nose. “That makes it sound like I’m a baby.”

“Are you not?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, though the amusement that paints his features tells you that he isn’t annoyed in the slightest.  “We should choose what to eat.”

He’s right, and so you grab a menu to choose what you want. A few minutes later, when the waitress returns with the wine bottle, Jungkook lets you taste it despite your lack of knowledge of wine. You judge it good enough, nodding wisely as Jungkook snorts in front of you. You throw him a warning glare, though it’s more teasing than anything, and then you both order your meals along with an appetizer of beef tartare to share. 

The conversation is easy after that, while you share a first glass of wine. It truly is a good wine - it’s a lot sweeter than you expected it to be, and you enjoy the taste of it as Jungkook tells you stories from his childhood.

By the time the beef tartare arrives, the conversation has shifted to what you did during the summer.

“I’m jealous,” Jungkook says when you tell him about the camping trip with Taehyung and your mother. “I’ve never gone camping.”

Your gaze widens. “You haven’t?”

He eats a piece of tartare, nodding his head. “Never.”

“Let’s go next summer!” you say. “You can tag along on our trip. I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind.”

He smiles, eyes sparkling. “As long as I get to share a tent with you.”

“Obviously,” you say, chuckling. “But you’ll have to behave.”

“Hey, I always behave!”

You both laugh, though Jungkook’s features grow somber a few seconds later, his laughter fading. 

“Everything okay?”

He shrugs, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Your summer sounds like it was a lot more fun than mine.”

You purse your lips, reaching across the table to grab his hand. You gently squeeze his fingers, and he meets your gaze, offering you a quick smile that barely meets his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you gently say.

“Not your fault,” he reassures you. “It was just a lot of sudden responsibilities and… navigating it all when thinking that I lost you was hard, you know?”

“I can imagine,” you whisper.

“But it’s okay,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “Taking over the US branch of JJS is scary, but I know it’s the right thing to do.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “My parents finally deem me worthy enough to talk to.” He pauses, sighing deeply. “So that’s something, no?”

Your heart breaks for him, for the kid who always wanted his parents’ approval but never got it.

“I guess it is,” you agree. Your thumb glides on the back of his hand. “I’m sorry they treated you like that growing up. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Ah it’s okay,” he says. His fingers grip your hand tighter. “I mentioned to you that I go to therapy, right?”

You nod. “Yeah, you did.”

“It’s really helped with that,” he admits, and he offers you a small, vulnerable smile. “With a lot of things actually.”

You smile softly. “I’m glad it did, Kook. You deserve the healing.”

He pats your hand, letting go of your fingers to jab his fork in a piece of tartare. “Have some of it,” he says, raising the fork towards you.

You eat the tartare, the taste melting in your mouth. “It’s so good,” you say once you swallow.

He nods, taking another piece. “I came here a lot last year,” he admits. “Alone.”

“Why alone?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. 

“Because most of my friends wouldn’t be able to afford it,” he points out. “And then, none of them knew that I am…” he trails off, but you don’t need him to complete the sentence to understand. 

“I knew,” you remind him.

He tilts his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. “I think you would have had an aneurysm if I’d asked you out on a date in public then.”

“Jungkook!” you let out, though the second he starts laughing, you can’t help but join too. Because he’s right - you would have never risked being in public with him like this, not when it could get to Taehyung’s ears somehow.

You finish the tartare, sipping on the wine as it goes. Jungkook asks you about your plans for the rest of college, for your future as a medical student, and you tell him that you and Nabi are planning to take the same route, if possible.

“You girls are inseparable,” he teases.

“We are,” you say, nodding your head. He chuckles, though he immediately listens as you continue, “What about you though? What’s the plan when college finishes?”

He’s in his last year after all.

“My father wants me to do an MBA at Harvard or NYU,” Jungkook admits. “And though I don’t really feel like studying at one of those universities, I already said I would.” He sighs, his shoulders slumping forward a little, the perfect picture of defeat. “I wish I could just stay here.” He meets your gaze. “With you.”

You wish he could stay, too.

“It would be awesome,” you agree. “But you have to plan your future too! We’re not even… fully dating yet?” You say it like a question, and he pouts, a frown overtaking his features. “You know what I mean. I don’t want to be the thing keeping you from doing what needs to be done for your career, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” he reassures you, the frown vanishing. “Don’t worry. I could always drive down here on the weekend.”

“Or I drive up!” you suggest. “Besides, how long is an MBA? Maybe I can try applying to NYU for med school and meet you there.”

“I might do full-time or accelerated,” Jungkook admits. “So…”

He’s interrupted as the waitress stops next to you to steal the empty appetizer plate away. You watch how she eyes him up, and you can’t help but grab his hand. He squeezes yours, a knowing smile on his lips as he looks down at the table.

“You always get jealous easily?” he teases when she’s gone.

You glare at him, choosing to ignore his comment. “You were saying?”

He laughs, but he recovers quickly, saying, “So I would probably be done by the time you start med school.” 

Right.

“Well then I’ll come live with you while I study there!” you suggest. “So we’ll just be separated for two years.”

Jungkook winces. “I’ll still drive down here every weekend. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand my family for longer than a few days at a time.”

As much as you understand him, it still pains you to hear so. Because, how can’t they see just how amazing Jungkook is? 

“I’m sorry…” you let out.

“Don’t be,” he reassures you, squeezing your hand again where it rests on the table. “I just don’t want to be away from you.”

It’s cheesy, but there’s also underlying pain in there. You can’t blame him - the months away from him have been some of the hardest of your life for you too. You’ve been overcompensating since Sunday, spending practically every second together, but you don’t mind.

It’s healing, oh so healing, and you just want to bask in it while you can. Though you don’t think he’s going to be ripped away from you, you can’t help the fear that still creeps at the back of your mind when you don’t pay attention.

Your main dishes arrive, and you smile at the sight of how small the dish is - plenty enough for you, but you already know Jungkook will eat some more when you get home later. The conversation is lighter while you eat, filled with stories about your classes and that midterm you’re convinced you failed last week. Jungkook reassures you, and the rest of the dinner goes by so quickly it feels like a car passing by at a hundred miles per hour. You want it to last - but soon enough you’ve eaten dinner, and the wine bottle is empty, your mind buzzing from all the alcohol you ingested, which is obviously more than Jungkook considering he has to drive.

You’re pouting. You know you are, and Jungkook chuckles at the sight.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

You nod, though your pout intensifies. “I can’t believe our first date is almost over.”

He smiles, his eyes sparkling like a thousand stars. “We’ll have plenty of other dates,” he promises. “Besides, you’re the one who said you have to study tomorrow.”

“I’m boring, aren’t I?” you say, scrunching up your nose.

You do have three midterms next week though.

“Nah, you’re cute,” Jungkook replies, winking at you. “Studying hard is hot.”

“Is it though?” you say, laughing.

He nods forcefully. “If it’s you doing it? Totally.”

Another laugh tumbles from your lips, interrupted by the waitress as she stops by the table with the cheque. Jungkook pays, making sure you don’t see the bill, and you then get up, putting your coats on to slowly head to the world outside.

It’s drizzling now, and you pull the hood of your coat on your head, following Jungkook as he leads you, his large hand firmly wrapped around your small one. You look up at him when he glances over his shoulder, melting at the sight of the dimpled smile on his lips.

“You look adorable,” he says.

“So do you.”

He narrows his gaze. “Thanks?”

You snort, tugging on his hand so that he faces you. “It was a compliment.”

He pulls you closer, hands settling on your waist. The drizzle tickles your face as you look up, your hands resting on his chest, and for a moment it’s like the world is slowing down, allowing you a glimpse of an infinity of you and him. The wind blows, and the hood of your coat falls, your hair dancing around your head. Jungkook gently pushes a strand of it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

Despite the cold, you feel like you’re in your own summerland, and your lips part as Jungkook’s thumb teases your lower lip.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes.

“Kook…”

You’re alone in the world. Tonight is just about you and him, like you’re the main characters in the story, and the second the drizzle turns into rain, Jungkook presses his lips on yours. You sigh softly, kissing him back as he tugs you so close you feel the full hardness of his body against you. Your arms sneak around his neck, holding him tight, and he kisses you like you have all of the time in the universe.

Because now you do. Now you do, and it’s liberating in the softest of ways. It’s you and him, swimming in the gentle rain, holding each other closer because you can, and you want to, and no one can ever take it away from you anymore.

“I really love you, you know?” Jungkook says after he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “I think I was waiting for you my whole life.”

“Jungkook…” you breathe out. 

“I’m serious,” he insists. “You make me happy. More than you can even imagine.” He pecks your forehead, pulling away just enough to meet your gaze. “And I’ve been dying to kiss you all evening so…”

You can barely hold your smile in. “I get a kiss on the first date?” 

He smirks. “You can get a lot more if you want to, peach.”

Though the rain is cold, and your hair is slowly getting wet, and your makeup is surely getting ruined, your blood heats up in your veins. “Oh?”

“If you want to, of course,” he adds, voice low. “Unless you don’t fuck on the first date.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Of course I don’t.”

Jungkook steps back, letting go of you. “Well, then I won’t push you.”

He starts walking away, and you laugh as you follow him, quickly grabbing his hand again. You reach his car thirty seconds later, and Jungkook opens the door for you. You climb in, and he shuts the door behind you before walking around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

“Thank you for tonight,” he says when the car purrs to life. He throws you a quick glance filled with indescribable softness. “I really had fun.”

“Me too, Kook,” you whisper.

His hand finds your thigh once he’s finally driving down the street, heading to your shared home. “I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

You wonder if it’s a hint of insecurity in his voice, or if he’s just teasing you. Still, you reply, “You could never.”

You don’t want him to ever feel insecure when it comes to you. Not when his very soul is the reason why your heart beats in your chest.

“My parents would highly disagree.”

There’s a silence as your mouth falls open, and Jungkook throws you a look before bursting out laughing. 

“It’s a joke, peach,” he says, squeezing your thigh. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Jungkook,” you let out. “That was…”

“Funny?” he provides.

You snort. “No.”

“You laughed.”

You glare at him, slowly shaking your head. “I didn’t.”

There’s a prolonged silence, and he chuckles, patting your thigh. “I swear it’s okay,” he says. “It really was just a joke.”

“I just think it’s…” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders. “Sad?”

He toys with his piercings, throwing you a quick glance. “I guess it is. But therapy has been helping.”

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper.

Jungkook freezes next to you, and you know the words have hit him right in his chest. Has anyone ever told him before?

“I really am,” you add. “I know therapy can be hard but look at you!”

Even in the orange neon light of the street lights, you can see Jungkook’s cheeks tinting with pink. His waterline shines silver, unshed tears swimming in his gaze, and he gulps, letting out a small chuckle.

“Thank you,” he says once he’s mastered his emotions. “You are…”

“The best?” you suggest when he doesn’t finish his sentence.

He laughs a hearty, happy giggle that makes everything in you shine, like maybe a star was born in your chest. “Yes,” he agrees, nodding his head wisely. “Definitely the best.” 

You fall silent for the remainder of the ride, though you keep playing with Jungkook’s fingers where his hand rests on your thigh. He’s wearing rings, and you spin the one around his index mindlessly, eyes cast on the world outside the window.

You near your apartment, and you notice the lights are on in the living room, a sign that Taehyung and Ariane are probably still there. To your surprise, Jungkook doesn’t slow down, and you glance at him, brows furrowed.

“Are we not going home?” you ask.

He looks at you just long enough to wink, then settles his gaze back on the road. “You really think I’d let the evening end so early on our first date?”

Gosh.

Warmth swarms into your heart as it beats softly in your chest, and you slightly shake your head, rolling your eyes playfully. “Alright then. Where are we going?”

He grips your hand, raising it to his lips so that he can press a feathersoft kiss on your knuckles. “It’s a surprise.” You narrow your eyes as if glaring at him, earning a soft laugh from him. “You really are adorable.”

“And you are fucking cheesy.”

You laugh in unison as he nods his head yes. “Guilty,” he says when the laughter recedes.

The rain hasn’t slowed down since you reached his car, only increasing as Jungkook drives and drives up until you’re out of town, and you think tonight might be perfect after all. Because you’re with him, and it’s freeing, like maybe you were stuck in a cage for months before tonight.

The feeling grows tenfold when you reach your destination, the top of a hill overlooking the city. Through the rain lashing the windshield, the city seems to be a sparkling jewel where it sprawls down in the valley. It’s beautiful in a calming, ethereal way, and your eyes slide to Jungkook.

“How did you find this place?” you ask him as he turns the engine of the car off.

He unbuckles his seat belt, turning so that he can lean his back against the door and look at you. “When I was searching for a place to sleep when Tae asked me to leave,” he admits. “I drove around for most of the night and stumbled upon this place.”

The memory of pain jabs deep in your chest, but a deep breath soothes it away.  

“I’m sorry Tae kicked you out,” you whisper as you look outside.

He shrugs. “It’s okay. I came back on the Saturday,” he admits. “Slept in my car on Thursday, then at Jimin’s and then Tae texted me to come home.”

You nod, glancing at him. “How did that go?”

“It went a lot better than I thought it would,” Jungkook answers. “Mostly Tae said he wished we’d told him before, and that though he was a little… disgusted that you and I had sex, he just wants us to be happy.”

You snort. “Disgusted?”

Jungkook nods, and he lets out a small laugh. “I mean… Can you blame him? You’re his little sister, I highly doubt he wants to think about you having sex. Like… Do you want to imagine him with Ariane?”

The second the image pops into your mind you scrunch up your nose in disgust, punching Jungkook in the shoulder. “Ew.”

“See? You get it.”

You chuckle, and then you look outside again. The windows are already fogging up a little, distorting the lights from the city even more.

“You wanted to ask me questions the other day?” Jungkook says.

You furrow your brows. “Huh?”

“Last Sunday,” he explains. “When we…” He motions between the two of you as if that explains anything. “You said you wanted to know everything about me, and I said I’d answer all of your questions.”

“Oh right.” You ponder for a time, gazing out the window, and then ask, “What’s your favourite colour?”

He smiles, eyes sparkling, and then sets his gaze on the city too. “Black. You?”

“Black is not a colour,” you point out. “But I’ll let it slide. Mine’s green.”

“You’d look fantastic in green.”

Your cheeks burn, and you look at him again. “Favourite animal?”

“Dogs.”

You grin. “Me too.”

Jungkook grabs your hand, and presses a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Then we will get a dog together.”

“And a cat?”

He chuckles “You want a cat too?”

You sigh, reminiscing about the cat you had growing up because your mother was too busy to get a dog like you and Taehyung wanted.

“Why not?” you say. “That way the dog would always have a friend around.”

“Why not two dogs?” he suggests.

You smile. “Deal.”

You go back and forth like this for a while, sharing everything from your favourite food to your favourite movie, though the questions slowly get more personal. When you ask him what his favourite childhood memory is, Jungkook tenses, yet he replies his Disney trip with Esmeralda and Junghyun. Yours is the first camping trip you’d taken with your mother and Taehyung.

“I’m serious,” Jungkook says after you finish telling him the story of how you’d burned all your marshmallows that first night. “I’m coming with you guys next summer.”

“You are,” you agree, nodding forcefully. “My mom will love you.”

He smirks. “Of course she will, I’m the whole package.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, even though you fully agree with him. 

There’s a silence, as you both shift your attention towards the world outside. The windows are completely fogged up now, and the sound of the rain on the roof of the car creates a gentle melody, one that’s been accompanying the conversation as it goes. 

You glance at Jungkook. You’re not surprised that his eyes trail to you a second later - big doe eyes filled with all the stars in your universe. Especially as he smiles. It starts deep behind his pupils, then cascades down his face to stretch his lips in a blinding smile that eclipses all those you’ve seen before.

And you wonder, has he truly smiled since he lost you that May night? Or is that his first true smile, the one not of the moon passing in front of the sun, but of the moment the sun shines through after the passing? Because his smile is truly blinding, like he wasn’t really smiling all night. And maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was still stuck in the shadows of the months apart, of the void between the stars in the night sky after you’d lost each other.

But he isn’t stuck in those shadows, in that void anymore. He isn’t, and you reach for him, reach for his soul and heart. He meets you halfway there, with a gentle sigh that fans over your features as your eyes flutter close and your lips brush his. The kiss is softer than a flower’s petal, the kiss is love shared and earned and longing and the perspective of a bright future, if you so dare to take it. 

The kiss fills you with love for this man sitting next to you. For this man that kissed you for the first time on Valentine’s Day, stealing your heart from your chest then. It’s not scary - you know he’ll take care of your heart till the sun sets on your last day.

He’ll take care of your heart until the sun rises on your first heaven. Though perhaps this is your first heaven. Perhaps it starts with him, and leads into infinity. You think it would make sense - it always was about you and Jeon Jungkook after all.

When the kiss ends and you sit back in your seat to hold his gaze, Jungkook smiles again. Just as soft, just as gentle, like the rising sun in the summer. It holds promises of you and him, and you love him.

You love Jeon Jungkook more than you’ve ever loved anything in this world.

“Do you want to head home?” Jungkook suggests a little while later, after you’ve gone back to looking at the jewel of a city down below.

You sigh, checking the time on your phone. It’s half past ten, and though you do have to study tomorrow, you don’t feel like leaving just yet. Not when your heart beats for him like it does, slowly filling with unquenchable desire, with a thirst for him that only he can help with. So, instead of accepting the offer, you turn to face Jungkook, smiling softly.

“Not really,” you say. You glance at the back seat, your smile turning into a devilish smirk. “Remember when I sucked you in your car?”

He follows your gaze to the backseat. “Yes?”

“Have you ever fucked anyone on that backseat?”

The silence that follows fills with tension, with barely concealed lust, and Jungkook lets out a low chuckle.

“No,” he replies. “Why? Got anything in mind?”

“I kind of really want to ride you right now.”

You’re not exactly in the mood. You know you’ll get there easily - it’s mostly just that this place feels like a safe haven, like a retreat from the whole universe where you and Jungkook can just get lost for a while. You want to take advantage of it, to live in it until it’s time to return to your normal life, to Taehyung and Ariane and studying.

“Shit peach,” Jungkook lets out, voice dark and husky. “Say less.”

You laugh, though you immediately squeeze between the front seats to get to the back. Jungkook, much larger than you, doesn’t fit, and he grumbles as he gets out of the car, only to climb with you in the back.

“Good thing the windows are all fogged up, mmh?” he says as you lean against the door opposite him, legs spread open to create room for him to get close to you. 

You bite at your lower lip. “You don’t want people to see us?”

His eyes darken, if that’s even possible. “Oh peach. Don’t you remember how I wanted all of New York to see just how good I fuck you?”

Your blood heats up in your veins, shooting down your body until it warms up your core. “Oh, I remember,” you whisper, breathless as Jungkook pushes your dress higher on your body, revealing your dragon tattoo first, which he gently traces with a finger, and then the black, lacy thong you’re wearing.

“So, so hot,” Jungkook praises.

He leans in, his lips ghosting yours, though he diverts at the last second, aiming for your neck instead. You tilt your head to the side, letting out a breathy sound as he finds the sweet spot under your ear. He sucks on it lightly, teeth teasing it, and then pulls away just enough to meet your gaze.

“Just, before we go too far,” he says, and there’s a hint of clarity in his dark eyes, of sanity you know he’s about to lose. “I don’t have any condoms.”

You smirk. “Guess that means you’ll have to fill me up.”

“Fuck.”

Before you can truly register what happened, Jungkook crashes his mouth on yours, ravishing a languid kiss that has your mind spinning. You fight against the buttons of his dress shirt, and when you think you’ll lose it Jungkook pulls away to help.

Soon the shirt is off, revealing Jungkook’s perfect body, though the dim light from the city down below doesn’t allow you to see his hard-earned muscles in all their glory.

“You’re keeping the dress,” Jungkook says as he plays with the hem between his thumb and forefinger. “I want to ruin you in it.”

You’d argue if you were able to produce a single sane thought, but right now, all you want is him, and if he wants the dress on, you’ll keep it on.

“The panties can go though,” he says, and he lets go of your dress to press a finger on your core. You’re already getting wet, so you’re not surprised when he hisses, and then brings his finger to his mouth. “You know what?” he says after he’s sucked on his finger. “I think it’s time for dessert.”

Though the car isn’t that big, Jungkook manages to move back enough so that he can lower his face between your thighs. He kisses his way down, sucking a hickey on the inside of your right thigh that makes you moan softly.

You lose a hand in his hair, the other finding leverage on the back of the passenger’s seat next to you as Jungkook nears your pussy. He doesn’t go for it though, instead pressing a light kiss on your clit through the fabric of your thong, and then he moves to your other thigh.

“Don’t tease,” you whine, though he still sucks a hickey on the soft skin of your inner left thigh.

“Why?” he asks, his lips moving against your skin as he licks at the hickey.

“I want you.”

“Oh, peach, I promise you’ll have all of me soon.” 

The words make you see stars, or maybe that’s because he’s pulled your panties to the side with one hand, revealing your glistening pussy to him. He blows on it, and your eyes flutter shut as your hips try to rise towards the sensation, though Jungkook holds you down.

“Be patient for me, peach,” he warns. He bites at the inside of your thigh, hard enough to slightly hurt. “I’ve been thinking about what you taste like all week.”

You haven’t had sex again since last Sunday. In the moment, you hadn’t cared that Taehyung was home, but you both were too embarrassed to fuck again since then. It’s been haunting you, evidently so, considering you’ve slept tangled up with him every night. More than once you’d felt his arousal against you, and resisting was the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

Perhaps it’s contributing to your impatience tonight. 

“Yeah?” you let out in a breathy sound.

Jungkook teases your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Yeah,” he answers. “I’ve been thinking of how you come undone on my tongue.” He sucks on your clit next, before adding, “How you always come so good on my dick too.”

You’re going to die tonight, aren’t you? He’s about to destroy you, and you don’t even care. 

You want it so bad you think you might die if he doesn’t give it to you.

“Kook…”

“Yeah?” He raises his head from between your legs, kissing your thigh. 

“Please touch me,” you beg.

“Where?” he asks. He kisses your thigh again. “Here?” He grabs your wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of it. “Here?” He moves up your body and captures your lips in a quick kiss that still leaves your mind spinning. “Or here?”

“I want your tongue on me,” you breathe out against his mouth.

“But where, peach?” he teases. “You’ll have to be more precise.”

“Eat me out, Kook.” You moan softly as one of his fingers teases your entrance. “Please eat me out.”

“Oh I will,” he says like a promise, and then he pushes his finger in up to the first knuckle. “I will,” he repeats against your lips, and then he’s going down your body again as he slowly pushes his finger deeper inside of you. 

He arches it, searches for your g-spot, and lets out a low chuckle as you squirm the second he finds it, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Patience,” he teases, and he pulls his finger almost all the way out before pushing in again.

You moan softly, resting your head against the door. This time you resist moving though, and Jungkook answers by diving his face between your legs again, his tongue circling around your clit once. He does it again when you return your hand to his hair, and this time you hold his head in place, keeping him from pulling away. He laughs against you, which sends vibrations deep inside your core, and then he finally gives in to your desire, sucking on your clit hard as his finger starts fucking you at a steady rhythm.

He’s good to you. He’s always been - far too good - and tonight is no different. No, tonight you think he might even be better, like the months apart only served to enhance the desire and passion you share. Because even though you’ve had sex twice in the last week and a half, tonight feels new, in all the ways that matter.

Tonight feels like your soul might fuse with his, and for the first time since the very beginning of your relationship with Jeon Jungkook, you jump in feet first.

Jungkook’s mouth works on you, his tongue alternating with pressing circles and licking at your clit, the pressure he applies slowly increasing as time goes by. Soon, he’s able to add a second finger inside of you, and though your walls clench hard around his digits, he works the muscle loose.

So much so that, by the time your orgasm is nearing the horizon of your conscience, he’s able to push a third finger in. You’re wet, soaked and dripping, and your pussy makes squelching sounds as he fingers you in time with the ministrations of his tongue on you. You’ve been moaning softly this whole time, though now that you’re split wide open the sounds grow higher pitched.

“You’ll come for me, mmh?” Jungkook says against your pussy. He laps you up, drinking your juices. “I want you to fucking scream my name when you come, okay?”

You don’t know why it undoes you. It just does, and a second later you’re indeed moaning his name, your orgasm slamming into you. It shakes you to your core, and your walls clench hard around Jungkook’s fingers, though he pushes to keep them inside of you. His tongue keeps moving on your clit as you come, milking your orgasm in the most sinful way, and the waves of the climax wash over you, again and again and again until all that’s left of you is a breathy mess.

Jungkook kneels back on his heels, wiping his chin clean with the back of his clean hand. He licks the fingers he’s been fucking you with clean, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as ecstasy invades your bloodstream, blowing your pupils wide.

“You’re always such a good girl for me,” Jungkook praises as he caresses your thighs next. 

“Fuck, Kook,” you let out, and it’s whiny, almost embarrassingly so.

“I know.” He caresses up and down your thighs another time. “Think you can take my dick now?”

You gulp, your throat dried out by all the moaning you’ve been doing. “Yes, please.”

He pats your thighs approvingly, taking your panties off for you. He then undresses himself, awkwardly so with the size of his car, yet soon enough his dick is freed. It slaps against his abdomen, standing hard and tall and leaking precum, so enticing to you that you think you might be going crazy for this man. You immediately reach for Jungkook’s dick, grabbing him so that you can jerk him off.

He’s steel hard under your touch, his dick twitching as you stroke up, your thumb teasing his slit. You work your way down then, smearing the precum on him, and then move up again. You watch what you’re doing like you’re entranced, and you think maybe you are.

Jungkook’s dick has that effect on you, after all.

Jungkook lets you jerk him off for a few seconds, grunting softly as you spit in your hand to lubricate his tip. He soon grows impatient though, and he stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to ride me?” he asks, voice so low it’s almost gravelly. “I want to feel your pussy on my cock, peach.”

You smirk through the haze encasing your brain, and you straddle his lap, holding yourself up on his shoulders. “Yeah?” you say, circling your hips on his dick, your juices dripping all over him.

His eyes flutter shut, and you lean forward to suck on his lip piercings. He grunts, his hands flying to your waist so that he can guide your motions, forcing you into a back-and-forth motion that rubs his dick on your oversensitive clit in just the right way.

“Fuck,” you moan, your face falling in his neck.

He forces you back, then forth. “That feels good?” he asks.

“Everything always feels good with you,” you reply.

“Damn right.” He kisses the side of your face, and you meet his gaze just long enough for him to be able to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. You taste yourself on him, and it only turns you on further, until you move up enough to be able to grab the base of his dick and align him with your entrance.

You lower yourself on him slowly, your mouth never disconnecting from his. He grunts against your lips, and you swallow every sound, up until his dick is fully sheathed in you, pushing against your cervix.

“Fuck you feel good,” he groans, and he leans his head back against the car seat. 

It reveals his neck to you, and you lean in to lick at the column of his throat, your lips closing around his Adam’s apple as you suck softly. His grip on your waist tightens, before shifting to your hips, and he lifts you up, slamming you back down a second later.

You see stars. You fucking see stars, and your mouth falls open as you moan unabashedly loud. It spurs Jungkook into action, and he lifts you enough so that he can ram his hips into you, his dick splitting you open again and again until all you can think of is the space where your bodies are connected. Jungkook lets go of your hips on one side, grabbing a handful of your dress so that he can push it up, revealing the space between you, and his cock inside of you.

He slows down, grunting softly as you moan his name, and then he entirely stops. 

“You look so pretty on my dick, you know?” he says, and he pushes up once, before pulling almost all the way out. “You feel so, so good too.” He fucks you a few times, eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feeling. “I just want to fuck you constantly.”

“Please do it,” you reply, and a second later he’s pulling you flush against his chest, and then he’s fucking you hard and quick, your moans and heavy breaths filling the car into a pornographic song. The rain on the roof soothes the edges of the sinful sounds, and the dim light of the city paints it all in a scene of passion and shared love, and whispered confessions when Jungkook comes a few minutes later.

“I fucking love you,” he says, face hidden in your neck. “Shit peach, I am so in love with you.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the wild beats of your heart, and then you say, “Me too, Jungkook. From now on until the end.”

You don’t even know what you mean by the end. You think you mean grey hair and years and years of being with him - you almost can see it. You can see yourself going in the night with him, falling asleep on his chest eternally. Or maybe him on your chest, like that scene from The Notebook that always rips your heart from your chest.

Yes, you think if you and Jungkook are to end one day, it’ll be at the end of a very long road, and tonight you know you are ready for every single second of it.

The most beautiful part is, you know Jungkook is ready for it, too. From now on until the end.

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

can't believe there's just one chapter left :') did you guys like this one? I feel like we all deserved the healing after all the pain these two went through :') let me know what you think!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[charmedreincarnation]

Success story navigation

I've been getting so many asks with questions that feel like they can't be answered any differently than things I've already covered. It's as if I'm receiving the same queries over and over, and I understand the frustration that comes with feeling unheard. I've also received numerous messages from people who are really at the end of their journey, feeling lost and defeated. Whether it's because you've seen no progress despite your efforts, you've been at it for years without tangible results, or you've tried everything with no success, or perhaps your life has even gotten worse with the law or other obstacles – I get it, I truly do.

I want to address the overwhelming sense of despair that comes when you've exhausted every option for so many years and still see no light at the end of the tunnel. To those of you who feel like you're standing at a billions crossroads with nowhere to turn, to those who feel like you’ve put in years to this journey, to those who feel like you’re life has gotten worse even with the law, know that you're not alone. It's incredibly difficult when you've invested so much of yourself only to feel stuck or worse.

That's why I'm going to link success stories that I believe align with the mindset you likely have. By following their journey and tweaking it to suit your circumstances, hopefully, you can find the success they did.

There's nothing more I can say that I haven't already answered or said, but I hope these stories can provide a new perspective and the encouragement you need. May they guide you in finding the path that leads to the success you seek. Remember, it’s often at our lowest moments that we find the strength to rise again.

The ultimate success story with everything you need, mindset, tips, LOA, and Edward Art

For people who struggle with intrusive thoughts and mindset and want to use that to their advantage

My personal favorite success story

Simple Success story for those who prefer to affirm and persist

Very easy pragmatic success story (maba shortcut)

Age and years it took to succeed doesn’t matter success story

You can shift with desperation and bad circumstances success story

Yes you only need your imagination success story

Everything is possible stop asking

It's easy to feel alone, but remember that whatever you're going through, someone else has also faced similar challenges. We all start in different places; some may have an easier beginning than others, but we share the same equal potential to achieve greatness. It's important to acknowledge that while our journeys might differ, our ability to overcome obstacles and reach our potential is universal. Embrace the shared human experience and take comfort in knowing that you have the power within you to rise above and become the best version of yourself. Realizing this is just as important as becoming the richest hottest bitch with the mastery of the void and shifting okay. You’re not alone, you’re very powerful, and you CAN do it. Everyone has the potential to do it, you’ll have hurdles but where in life do you not!? You can struggle here with those journey or just struggle with the life you don’t want like everyone else. Nothing in life is easy, choose the hard path to get where you want so you can be happy forever, I promise it’s worth it.

This covers all the asks I’ve gotten. I really hope the struggle comes to an end for you guys. I know how hard all of you work, and I am truly happy and grateful to see how much you all love yourselves to put yourselves through an amount that sometimes seems pointless and fake, but it will be worth it. That’s just something you have to allow yourself to understand.

[bookwyrminspiration]

its like your dream

It is! It is like my dream! It's my dream's cousin, it's distant but related second uncle, or something. Not exactly the same, but in the same family and recognizable.

One thing I've noticed so far that I find humorous is the juxtaposition of posts crossing my dash. They're either maxed out in terms of reactions or entirely blank. There are those that haven't maxed them out yet, but I keep scrolling from maxed out posts to posts without a single reaction, and I can't help but wonder what qualifications we're collectively using for these reactions. What posts merit reactions?

Alas, I do not know! But it would be interesting to figure out if there's a pattern or not. That aside, I hope everyone is enjoying the cheese on the dash. Especially all you lactose intolerant people <3

[firstfullmoon]

Years ago, I received a query from a prominent editor about a line in Mahmoud Darwish’s long poem, “The ‘Red Indian’s’ Penultimate Speech to the White Man,” (If I Were Another). The poem channels Chief Seattle’s voice and spirit. In the poem’s second section, the line in question follows an address to Columbus, “the free [who] has the right to find India in any sea, / and the right to name our ghosts as pepper or Indian.”

The line in question is this: “You have burst seventy million hearts…enough, / enough for you to return from our death as monarch of the new time”:

isn’t it time we met, stranger, as two strangers of one time and one land, the way strangers meet by a chasm? We have what is ours…and we have what is yours of sky. You have what is yours…and what is ours of air and water.

“I just don’t get where he got the seventy million from?” the editor asked.

I didn’t reply. I didn’t wonder about the accuracy of Darwish’s claim. Maybe he included all the Natives annihilated in the Americas over the centuries. The only thought I had in my head was, “Is this really what’s bothering you about the poem?”

Years later, in a daydream, a marginalia of my soul visited me, and it spoke thus: “Do you remember those seventy million punctured hearts in Darwish’s poem? If you’re ever asked again, if the person who asks you says that historical studies show the number is not possible or whatever, remember the buffalos.”

The buffalo hearts are also native hearts. Who will count the donkeys, dogs, and cats in Gaza? The birds will return.

— Fady Joudah, in his essay “A Palestinian Meditation in a Time of Annihilation”

[haunted-machines]

🥃 so. shadow. how did it feel having that dainty little blues' fingers in your mouth

For every 🥃 my muse gets– they have to either answer a personal fact about themselves…. Or take a shot!

Shadow somehow manages to spit take without even having a drink in his mouth yet. That is soon corrected, however, as he immediately downs the fourth shot and refuses to actually acknowledge the question.

shots: 🥃🥃🥃🥃

[ellecdc]

request for a fic where reader is absolutely spoiled by her boys? (can be absolutely any pairing you like poly!marauders x reader, wolfstar, poly!moonwater x reader, Bartylus x reader…..literally anything)

the boys love to spoil her with gifts, breakfast in bed, shopping trips, outings etc, (not necessarily expensive, just doting), even if one of the boys is less inclined they're along for the ride, and perhaps somewhat exasperated by all the antics

…can you tell my love language is gift giving and receiving?

feel free to add more plot because the prompt is quite broad? but do whatever you want my love!

I trust you with my life <3

*tip-toes in* hiii there *side steps through the door* hellooo.... *awkwardly places this fic in front of you from your request back in March* thanks so much for your request (and patienceeee) - no but in all reality, I knew from the second I got this request that it had to be these two - I hope I did it justice!! xx

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who they love to spoil [743 words]

CW: extravagant & expensive gift giving as a love language, reader tries to be mad at them about it (she fails, though)

“Not so fast!” You said instead of hello, fighting the snicker that threatened to undermine your severity as you watched Barty and Evan stop in their tracks like they’d been frozen on the spot. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The two boys shared a sideways glance before Evan slowly relaxed his stance. “Well-”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Treasure.” Barty interrupted swiftly, giving off an air of faux nonchalance as he placed the shopping bags he had in his hands on the side of the bed and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “What are we doing for dinner tonight? What are we doing about climate change? What are we doing with our lives? It’s too broad a question.” 

“Barty.” You scolded him. 

“Y/N.” He replied.

“Evan.” You tried instead.

“Yes, sugar?” He responded salaciously.

You closed your eyes and heaved a breath; they made it so difficult to be mad at them. “What did you two buy?”

Evan’s face spread into a cheshire cat smile. “Funny you should ask, darling.” And with a flourish, he and Barty unceremoniously dumped the bags out onto the bed leaving it covered in a menagerie of clothes, bags, perfumes, and what appeared to be boxes of jewellery. 

“But why?” You beseeched anxiously instead of saying thank you; feeling your face flush at the very loud and very expensive expression of appreciation now littering your bed. 

“Uhm, because we love you?” Barty answered as if that was somehow a trick question and he couldn’t believe it was actually that easy to answer.

“This is too much.” You responded.

“Says who?” Evan queried.

“Me.”

Barty snorted. “How’s it feel to be wrong, then?”

“Barty.”

“I don’t understand what the problem is!” He continued, raising his hands helplessly. “We have a lot of money, we have great taste, and we have you; ergo…” He said, finishing his statement by gesturing vaguely at the pile of gifts they’d purchased. 

“Great taste indeed.” Evan agreed as he held a dress up against you. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Ev, there is hardly any fabric on this dress.” You argued, causing his face to pinch in thought.

“Hm, you’re right. Okay, we can return that one if you don’t like it.” He said before shoving the dress back into one of the various bags. 

You let your eyes trace the rest of the garments littering your bed wondering if you might be able to convince them to return the rest of it too.

“No, we cannot return it all. Don’t be rude, babydoll.” Evan reprimanded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and chidingly patting you on the arse.

“Do you like this one, Tres? I picked it because I thought it’d bring out your eyes.” Barty asked then, holding up an outfit with no shortage of excitement in his eyes that finally forced a smile from you. 

“It’s very nice, Bee; thank you.” You relented, running your fingers along the fabric up to the price tag, only to have it yanked from your grasp before you could see how much it cost.

“Perfect.” He said quickly, pulling the tag from the garment and shoving it into his pocket. “You can wear this one tonight; we have reservations at the new restaurant downtown at 8:30!”

Silence returned to the room once they both left and you let out a slow breath, shaking your head in fondness as you looked at the many gifts they’d splurged on for you. 

There wasn’t even any reason, which always somehow made it feel that much more special; they didn’t go out shopping because it was your birthday or a holiday; they simply went shopping because they were thinking of you, saw things you might like, and bought it just because they could. 

You were a lucky girl, and you’d go so far as to call yourself spoiled, which you were sure was exactly what Evan and Barty wanted you to be even if you made it quite difficult to do so. 

“Oh, and if you do wear that outfit Barty picked out tonight,” Evan added, sticking his head in the doorway, “there’s a matching Hermés bag to go with it, too.”

He didn’t even have a chance to see your mouth open in shock or hear your horrified “Evan!” before he was shutting the door behind him and taking off down the hall.

Spoiled indeed.