#HE'S WAY SMOOTHER THAN THE REST OF THEM

[imminent-danger-came]

Hi I’m also an avid httyd 3 hater I think this video was a pretty good summarization of most of the things that were wrong with it if you wanna check it out

https://youtube.com/watch?v=bcFMEs177i0&feature=shared

"The director wanted an end from a different story". SO FUCKING TRUE. SO REAL.

From the httyd3 art book (which I'm so happy the video references):

"In general, it's more difficult to create a female character than it is to draw a male. For a female, any incorrect line and the shape can go wrong very quickly. We had to control all the shapes while keeping her both powerful and graceful so that she didn't fall to much into the reptilian category, like a lot of dragons. We wanted to explore how the Light Fury would walk and how to make her feel like a female, so we referenced lionesses and big cats."

What misogynistic bullshit am I right.

I'm going to go ahead and also show off the hearts on the light fury's forehead because it's just abysmal (this is a normal picture of the light fury with the saturation increased):

Thanks for sending this video my way anon!

[daosies]

"stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

they can't help but stare at you.

luka, jing yuan, gepard, dan heng ♡ gn!reader

warnings: graphic descriptions of love (crude imagery), pre-established relationship, reader is a nameless (dan heng's part)

notes: Can u tell my fav based on how much i write for them? (Its luka)

no matter where you are, luka's azure gaze will always find its way to you. even when he's in the midst of one of his matches, luka can't help but sneak a tiny (that, in reality, is not so tiny) glance at you, eager for your approval.

such a "tiny" glance lands him on the floor, his opponent landing a punch square on luka's jaw. pain reverberates throughout his body, sending waves of heat rushing to his face.

"ouch," he groans, narrowly avoiding another hit. he recovers quickly, his gaze now fixated wholly on his opponent.

adrenaline courses through his veins, his movements smoother than usual as luka apprehends his opponent in a matter of seconds. even as he's in the midst of putting someone in a headlock, his vision blinded by the lights of the fighting rink, luka's eyes find you.

he doesn't know how to explain it—his eyes are just naturally drawn to you. no matter where you are, luka will find you, and he will adore you. even if the spotlights blur his vision, just your silhouette is enough to satisfy him.

(maybe, when he was created, and when the aeons pieced together bits of his eyes, they carved his irises with the intention of beholding you. maybe, when luka was blessed with sight, it was because the aeons wanted him to witness you.)

even now, as the referee raises his arm in order to declare his victory, luka searches for you in the crowd. his grin widens as he waves at you with his free, mechanical hand. luka adores you; it's evident in the glimmer of his azure eyes and the way he immediately rushes to celebrate with you.

"i didn't think you'd come,"—but he'd still search for you anyway—"i'm so glad you did!" luka rubs the back of his head bashfully, the adrenaline pumping throughout his body beginning to wear off. only now does luka realize you're there, and that you just watched him fight!

his eyes never leave your frame. luka observes you under the muted lights, fluorescent bulbs flickering as if they became anxious in your presence. he supposes that he's not your only admirer, with the way the lights dim and the crowd's cheers fall silent, the way the world quiets to heed your words.

(what he doesn't realize is that the lights never dimmed, that the crowd never quieted. luka felt things that never happened, he envisioned a spotlight on you that never existed—but to him, it did. the world really did wait for you.)

"you were great out there, luka!"

you smile, and luka feels something flutter within him. his heartbeat travels from his chest, suddenly echoing throughout his body, making itself known even in the tips of his fingers and the rush of his ears.

something flutters within him, and luka thinks he's fallen for you. again.

"interesting move," jing yuan states. he rests his cheek against the palm of his hand, his lips curling into the slightest of smiles as he stares at you shamelessly.

"you weren't even looking at the board."

he chuckles. "you got me."

despite being caught red-handed, jing yuan's amber gaze never leaves your face. his eyes trace over the flutter of your lashes, the bridge of your nose, memorizing the features he's already so used to. the features that you're sure he's seen a thousand times before.

even with your piercing glare, jing yuan continues to marvel at you, not bothering to hide the way his pupils scrutinize your frame. he stares at you like he can see your soul, like—within the depths of your irises—he can see your dreams, your wishes.

"move a piece," you say, unamused. "and stop staring."

"i'm not staring," jing yuan responds matter-of-factly. he continues to observe you, never tearing his gaze away. you shrink under the general's gaze, suddenly becoming self-conscious of the way you sit and the way you exist.

jing yuan notices this, and he frowns.

"why are you doing that?" he asks. his index finger comes up to poke your forehead, urging you to ease the furrow of your brows.

"'cause the so-called chess master isn't making a move," you comment blandly. jing yuan chuckles.

"just pretend the so-called chess master,"—he still doesn't look down at the board—"is thinking. and isn't looking at you."

"you're making it kind of difficult to do so," you respond, unamused.

"give me five minutes." jing yuan pauses. "actually, ten will do."

"make a move!" you exclaim impatiently, pointing at the table in order to redirect jing yuan's attention. he feigns ignorance to your frustration, opting to observe the pout of your lips instead.

"cute," he mutters, not caring if you hear.

"are you even listening?"

"yeah," he says; it comes out more like a dreamy sigh rather than a proper response. with soft, adoring irises and a sickly sweet smile that makes you wonder if it's fake, jing yuan looks as if he has been possessed by cupid himself.

"ugh, why do i even try with you?"

jing yuan hums. "twenty minutes."

gepard swears he isn't staring at you on purpose.

but the more he looks at you, the more he notices. he notices the way you furrow your brows whenever you concentrate, the way your eyes twinkle when talking about something you enjoy. gepard notices the way you bite your bottom lip whenever you're frustrated, the way you tilt your head when you listen to someone speak.

aeons, he thinks, watching you exist, aeons. gepard swears he isn't staring at you on purpose—it just so happens that his gaze is on you. it just so happens that his gaze is always on you.

it's not his fault, really!

"hello? geppie?" serval says, waving her hand in front of the man's awestruck eyes. he blinks in embarrassment, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he looks down at the countertop, observing the splinters of wood with utmost attention.

"yes, serval?" he replies, struggling to find his voice. he winces at the way it sounds, the way his voice seems to dismember itself in your presence. gepard hates the way he acts around you, the way he becomes conscious of things like the way he walks, the way he talks.

it's humiliating, really, the way you reduce gepard to a flustered mess. he hates the way your eyes make him weak in his knees, the way you smile at him with that smile of yours. it makes him want to love you and love you, loving 'till the end of time, 'till the stars fall.

gepard wants to love you so much it hurts. he wants to love you to the point where his love turns into a knife, carving his heart out, taking it apart by its chambers. he gives you one chamber, then two, then three, then four, and all of a sudden, he's missing a heart—but what does it matter, whether or not he has a heart? in the end, it belongs to you.

"looks like someone's got a crush," serval says with a smirk. her vibrant cerulean eyes follow her brother's, fixating on your expression as you flip through pages of a travel guide gifted by the nameless. she doesn't notice how your lips tug into a frown, how your brows furrow ever so slightly.

gepard does, though. gepard seems to notice everything about you.

"don't say it here...!" gepard exclaims, trying to keep his volume low. serval, on the other hand, has no regards for secrecy. she slaps her hand against the counter, getting a good, hearty chuckle from her brother's beet red face and the way his eyes are wide with panic.

"right, right!" she laughs, clutching her stomach (gepard doesn't get why she's acting like he just made the best joke in the universe—it's not that funny). the floorboards creak with her movements, as if they too were finding amusement in gepard's predicament. the captain's gaze is not lingering in front of him for long, though, because in a matter of seconds, he finds himself staring at you. again.

he thinks you look ethereal basking in the daylight, the golden glow clinging to your skin. gepard thinks that, like him, the sun adores you. it's in the way its rays trace over your features, adorning your eyes with fragmented light, slipping your irises in between its shattered reflections and making you its own.

your eyes glimmer.

"dan heng!" march 7th yells, slapping the aforementioned man's back harshly. "stop staring and get working! [name] doesn't like useless men!"

dan heng bites his tongue, swallowing his words (and insults) as he returns to wiping down the train's furniture. it was your idea to help pom pom out by dedicating a day to clean up the express, which dan heng thought was admirable.

they're thoughtful, he muses, absentmindedly scrubbing at a coffee stain left by one of himeko's five thousand mugs. really thoughtful. but dan heng already knows that—it's in the way your voice drops to a whisper whenever he's reading, the way you always buy him souvenirs and beverages from places you visit.

although you're a nameless like him, you often travel on your own accord, making stops as you please and wandering the universe as if it were yours.

(maybe it is, dan heng thinks, entertaining the idea, maybe the world really is yours. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if it was. it would make a lot of sense, actually. how is it possible for things to be so beautiful, if not belonging to you?)

"useless men?" you suddenly echo from down the hall, appearing around the corner with a mop in hand and a bucket in the other. dan heng rushes to you, his palm outstretched as he urges you to give him the bucket and split the weight.

"o-oh," march stutters, suddenly becoming speechless, "f...fancy seeing you here!"

you raise a brow. "i live here?"

"is that so?" march echoes, laughing stiffly to herself. "how funny! i didn't know you could hear what i was saying..."

"only the 'useless men' part," you say, shaking your head. "what's wrong with useless men?"

"well, for starters," dan heng answers, "they're useless."

"that's okay," you respond. "sometimes, being useless is fun."

is their type useless men? dan heng wonders to himself, suddenly feeling insecure. should he put this bucket down? will you find him useless, then?

"so... you like useless men?!" march asks, pointing accusingly at you. dan heng grimaces—just why does march have to be astute in the worst of times? why did she figure out who dan heng liked, if she usually struggles adding decimals?

you blink owlishly. "uh, not really? i'm just saying they're not that bad."

dan heng's grip tightens around the bucket's handle. i can work with that, he thinks, suddenly strategizing.

"what's your type, then?" march questions, stepping closer to you. "blonde, perhaps? ginger? blue?"

she didn't say black hair, dan heng thinks, about to reach for a tuft of his own.

"maybe dark hair?" you respond, your eyes narrowed in thought. "i like it when they make it obvious they like me, though."

"like if they stare at you a lot?" march asks, leaning in.

"yeah!" you reply. "that'd be cute!"

"oh, good!" march exclaims, pleased with herself. "dan heng here does a lot of that!"

"what?" both you and dan heng say in unison. while your tone is confused, dan heng's tone is disbelieving, as if he really did not believe that march just outed him like that.

(march did, in fact, just out him like that.)

you exchange glances with the man, but much to your surprise, he's already staring.

something tells you he's been staring for a while, it's just that you only noticed now.

[danikamariewrites]

Romance Books

Eris x reader

A/n: another installation of corruption kink Eris x reader but this one is really sweet

Warnings: suggestive and fluff

One of the many Mating gifts Eris has given you so far is a library. A room had been cleared out and built to be your dream library. Big windows, a reading book, and cozy furniture sat among the empty stacks. The cases waiting to be filled by you and Eris.

On your most recent date with Eris he took you into the city to buy you books. “I want you to start filling our library, my heart,” he said as he held your hands outside the bookstore. You were bouncing on the balls of your feet. Anxious to buy out the whole store for your new collection. Your books from home have been moved in already, as well as a few of Eris’s favorites from his own room.

Eris had encouraged you to buy whatever you wanted. You decided to grab a multitude of each genre. Especially romance novels. You thought learning about different aspects of relationships from different angles would be useful. Besides, you didn’t want all the romance of this mating to rest on Eris’s shoulders.

This afternoon, you once again found yourself reading one of your new smutty books in your usual spot. You had picked one of the more mild Sellyn Drake novels. Lots of kissing was in this one.

As the chapter goes on, the male character makes his way down the female's body. Kissing every part of her. Your cheeks heat and you squeeze your thighs together at the rush of arousal between your legs. Clearing your throat you shift your position. You curl up into a ball, pressing yourself against the back cushions and holding the book up to cover your crimson cheeks.

Eris watched as you repositioned yourself to be covered. He could smell your arousal from across the room. Smirking, your mate silently stood, quickly making his way over to you.

Eris plops himself down on the couch hard enough to make you bounce. The scream you let out distracted you from him plucking the steamy romance from your unusually tight grip. “Eris!” You gasp out. “Good gods! Don’t scare me like that,” a giggle escapes your lips as you swat at his chest.

“What’s got you so edge, little fox?” He hums, amber eyes skimming the page you left off on. His wicked smirk slowly spreads on his lips. “My, my little fox. I didn’t know you were reading these kinds of romance novels.” You bury your reddening face in your hands as Eris keeps reading.

“I didn’t want you to be the only romantic one.” Eris let out a breathy laugh, marking your spot and setting your book down to pull you into his arms. “Little fox, what are you talking about? You do romantic things for me everyday.” He kisses you on the head, adjusting you on his lap.

“Really?” You pull your hands from your face, resting them on his strong chest. Letting out a sigh Eris kisses your nose, “Of course. You spend time with me every day, all those little kisses you give me when you pass my desk, even putting my favorite candies on top of my papers is romantic.”

You give your sweet mate a big smile. “I love you, Eris.” Eris stops breathing for a moment. Soft, bright flames dance in his amber eyes. That’s the first time you’d ever said that to him. Eris’s smile widened, “I love you more, little fox.”

Taking the lead you closed the space between you two, slipping a hand into his fiery locks and tugging a little. You felt the bond sing as your lips moved against his. Eris pulled away sooner than you liked. He gently held your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Now,” he whispered against your lips, “how would you like to explore what you’ve been reading about?” You felt your cheeks flush again as you nod slowly. Eris smirks and begins to kiss down your jaw to your neck. Cauldron, how did this feel even better than your lips?

Eris moved lower and lower until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you, holding your hips. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” His voice was deeper and smoother than you’d ever heard. The seductive tone sent a shiver down your spine rendering you speechless. Another nod was all you could muster. “Just relax, little fox. I got you.” Eris winked before slowly pushing your dress up your legs.

[daddyricsdoll]

You ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: You had adapted to what Ollie needed but recently you had noticed there was something else, and obviously you planned on conquering it.

Warnings: Unprotected sex

Word count: 1k

A/N: Based off of this request. It did happen to come out shorter than expected but I hope you still like it.

“What do you think about the dress?” I ask as I slowly make my way out of the bathroom and toward Ollie. He grins and stands up to trace my curves with the palm of his hands, fingers delicately sliding across my clothed skin. A little groan leaves Ollie’s throat. “Do you have to go out? Can’t you stay with me?” He pulls me closer to his body with his hands firmly splayed on my ass. 

“Ollieeeee, I already told them I’m coming. And I’ve spent the whole day with you on my arm, just give me a couple of hours.”

“But you just saw them, are you sure it’s just your friends?” Ollie rests his chin on my head and one hand glides up my back and wraps around me to hold my waist. 

“Of course it’s my friends, why wouldn’t it be? I love you Ollie, do you know that?” 

“I-yeah, I know. You just look too gorgeous to go out with just your friends.”

“Well thank you, and I’ll dress like this when we go out together ok?” I grin and reassure him, overtime I’ve learnt what he needs, but there’s been a little addition to that list, and I plan to find that out. He holds me tight in his warm arms and we stay together until the pattern of our breathing matches and the only thing that fills our nostrils is the scent of the other. 

Ollie drives me to the venue and he waits till one of my friends arrives before he leaves, but not without a lingering kiss and brush of a hand against my thigh. 

Every once in a while I receive a message from him, asking if I’m ok and having a good time. I can’t help but giggle and send him a perfectly detailed reply before sending him an abundance of heart emojis and “I love yous”. 

Knackered is the perfect word to describe how I felt when Ollie picked me up that I fell asleep to the sound of his voice and touch of his hand. But then woke up with his hand shifted dangerously close to the one spot between my thighs that he hadn’t made contact with yet, but I was sure it would change soon.

He insisted on helping me get ready for bed, since my idea was to just flop on it and magically wake up between the sheets and perfect like Aurora. The thought that he would see me nearly naked didn’t pass my mind until I was sure I heard a groan and hushed curse leave his oh so luscious lips. 

“You ok?” I ask him in a soft voice and lazy eyes. His reply is a hum and “Yeah, I just um- I really love you and you look really beautiful and we’ve been together for how long? Really long and we’ve done a lot but there’s also quite a few things we haven’t done…” Ollie trails off and continues assisting me. “And what haven’t we done?”

“You know, what people in relationships do.” He keeps his answer more vague than I had hoped and in the minute it takes for us to get into bed I also hope he can give the answer through his lips and not the bulge in his pants. 

Unsurprisingly once we get under the blanket and tangled between the others arms our lips find each other too. Ollie's hand weaves into my hair and he pulls my head closer to his, resulting in an exchange of moans from the both of us. He bites my lip as I slowly break the kiss.

“What do you want?” I question him and the answer leaves his mouth smoother than I had expected. “You.” The one word initiates both of us to get invested in the taste of each other's lips and every inch of skin we can stroke. 

Ollie’s body envelopes mine before he lifts himself up to discard my shirt along with his. I mentally claim I’ll never get over the sound of his groans and the new feeling of his lips secured around my nipple is a sensation I beg to feel more than this once.

I could assume he had done this many times as he doesn’t let the rest of my body get cold, thumb circling my other nipple. Involuntarily my body arches and it gives Ollie the chance to leave the clothes that still stick on my body a place with my solitary shirt. 

He looks up at me and when my eyes flicker down he knows what I want. His grey sweatpants soon lay on the floor with my clothes and my core throbs as my eyes make contact with his dick and the realisation of what comes next brings a short moan to my lips.

His brown eyes looked into mine for permission and my nod was all he needed to lift my hips up and slowly inch into me. There was no way we could suppress our moans as our desires reached the beginning of its completion for the night. My raised hips made the contact of his tip and my one sensitive spot inevitable and striking. Each thrust got progressively quicker before he found the right pace and kept me pleased at every second. 

“I waited so long to feel you like this” He groans deeply, centimetres from my lips. I close the gap and fireworks explode as our lips collide and so do our hips. Each singular movement forces the rest of our bodies to move. 

My climax creeps up on me and in seconds I whine, hips somehow raising at the command of my pliant legs. It doesn’t take long until Ollie ultimately cums in a long thrust and groan. He rides both of our highs out and then collapses on me. It doesn’t take long until my fluttering eyelids close and he pulls out to clean me up. Although I may be unconscious I feel his warmth when he enters the bed next to me then engulfs me in his arms. Easing into the night together, always and hopefully forever.

[vampiretendencies]

what about canon!rafe cameron x wife!reader married life?

warnings; fluff, suggestive maybe, mention of kids

pairing; canon!rafe x fem!wife!reader

authors note; did this in the form of mini headcanons cause it’s too the point of what married life would be like in my opinion. hope you like it!

canon!rafe who obsesses over wife!reader, nearly a thousand times a day. he can’t fathom being married to a lover such as you.

canon!rafe who has his wife’s ring polished and cleaned once a month so that anyone who sees your hand sees the big ass rock on your finger. showy, sharp, karat wrapped, and more reflective everytime. as well as paying for your nails because, along with the ring comes sensational nails. and he loves for you to scratch along his back in longing for him, whilst it also soothes his worries away.

“d’you wanna pick the color this time?”

“you’d look pretty with any color princess.”

canon!rafe who insists on taking a warm bath with his wife every night. pressing plentiful kisses to your neck, having you lean against his soap clad chest. he desired to draw shapes on your skin, or making you guess the word he just wrote with his finger tip on your back. after a long day at work, being wrapped in all that his wife has to offer is absolutely beguiling. to be so engulfed inside of his wife had to be his favorite part of the night.

canon!rafe who cooks dinner when he’s home early or if he’s off. if he finds a new recipe and he thinks it’s something you’ll like he’s going to cook is. always getting you to come and test out the recipe. it was something so sensual about the way he’d curl his index finger under your chin, to tilt your head slightly, allowing your lips to purse around the spoon. swallowing down whatever it was he prepared, and he seemingly did so in excellence every time.

“good princess?”

“s’so good rafe!”

canon!rafe who’s been late to work a few times watching his wife get ready in the morning. there’s something so satisfying about watching you enhance your beauty that he can’t quite pinpoint. but maybe it’s the domestic feel— the feel of your life having a plan, having a routine alongside someone so unspeakably alluring. but there’s a downside also, he can’t smoother your face in kisses after, so he settles for peppering them to your neck. not as good in his opinion, but it’s still you under his touch.

“coming by for lunch my love?”

“wouldn’t miss it.”

canon!rafe who is ready for kids but he wants to embellish and continue discovering the undiscovered about his wife. it would be a complete 360 but he’d be willing to adjust as long as it’s with you. small versions of him decorating his life with adoration, and he can’t wait for that day.

“i want 3 boys.”

“3?!!”

canon!rafe who was adamant on every square inch of his office being decorated in you. from the picture of you kissing his cheek on his desk to the one of you asleep as his laptop background. because he dares someone to look his wife’s way, or breathe in her direction— he’s losing it. his wife is his wife for a reason.

canon!rafe who dresses his wife in the latest shoes, purses, etc. the definition of living lavish. but he doesn’t do it to spoil you or anything of the sort. he through and through thought that you deserved it. always leaving little gift bags here and there of whatever he can muster. whether it’s shopping online or sneaking off to a mall. he’s getting it for you.

canon!rafe who purchased a magnet calendar for the refrigerator to plan date nights accordingly. seeing when schedules are free and basing them off that, every date night he tries to top the last one. date nights are at least once a week, because he craves that extra attention once a week. actually it’s more than that, but date night is always the kicker. going out to dinner and then spending the rest of the night in aimless kissing, and uncontrollable touching. the love never seemed to run out.

“couldn’t keep my hands off of you tonight.”

“is it the dress?”

“no it’s you, princess … nobody does it like you.”

[spider-man-199999]

The bracelet

pairing: Nathan Drake x Reader

word count: 3,5 k

warnings: drinking

summary: You meet Nathan while he's working at the bar. He recognizes you and tries to steal your bracelet because he knows you're filthy rich. Instead, you manage to steal his heart.

a/n: This idea originally was supposed to be smut, but I changed my mind. I could make the smut part a part 2 if it's liked enough?

part2

Your black high heels clicked on the floor as you made your way over to the bar. The black dress that tightly hugged your body was making it rather uncomfortable to move and breathe but it certainly did make you look fantastic. Heads were turning to look at you, an emotionless expression on your own face, avoiding eye contact. It was your first night out since the divorce, which made you even more anxious, especially since you deciced to go out alone, no friends, no driver, no bodyguard. After your husband left you, or rather you left him with half of his fortune, which included a hotel to own, you hadn't really been there much, it brought back too many bad memories. But tonight wasn't about the bad memories, it was about forgetting them. So, you sat down in front of the bartender, looking him up and down before he even managed to notice you, placing your bag next you as your hands rested on the bar. He was handsome and young, his dark hair styled nicely. He looked at your hands, staring at the diamond bracelet on your left wrist before his eyes shot up and looked into your own. You smiled at him, crossing your legs on the stool and adjusting your position.

“Aren’t you too pretty to be here alone?” He asked you, placing down the glass he was previously cleaning.

“Aren’t you too handsome to be a bartender?” You asked back casually, earning yourself a raised eyebrow from the man in white shirt and black vest.

“So what will it be tonight? Sex on the beach?”

“Last time I checked the beach was pretty far from here”

He shook his head at you, bitting back a smile.

“A martini would be fine”

“Really? A martini? I can do better than that”

You turned your back to him, resting your elbows on the bar. Looking around the place for a few seconds, taking in the scenery. It was calm and relaxing, piano playing in the background, the soft chatter of people all around, the sounds of the cute bartender moving around behind you. The lights of the crystal chandelier flickering softly. It felt like the 20s, like a scene from "The great Gatsby". Rich people everywhere, expensive drinks, expensive furniture, muffled private conversaions, secret lovers shooting eachother provocative glances. You got almost lost in the moment of calmness, closing your eyes for a second before your nirvana was interrupted by a soft. “Your martini madam”, which made you turn slowly. Your small hand grabbed the tall martini glass, taking a sip from it as you kept staring at the brow-haired boy, a soft smile on your lips. He was way smoother in his movements than you anticipated him to be, you barely even noticed when exactly he took the diamond bracelet off of your wrist. Fascinating, you didn’t expect the night to become so fun so soon. He was one of your own, a smuggler, a man of deception. He went on making drinks for other clients while you stared at him, playing with the olive in your glass. It felt like the bar was a barrier between your two worlds, you knew he probably made minimum wadge without the tip. And there you were, on the other side of the bar, owning half of the hotel, dressed in a Versache dress that was probably worth more than his rent, not a single care in the world but your shattered heart. Guess some were better at deception than others. However, he managed to capture your attention, even if not intended by him.

“I didn’t catch your name” you said as he came near you, playing around with the shaker as he was mixing something up.

“Nate” he replied with a stern voice, poring out the content in a pretty glass and serving it to the person who had ordered. He seemed slightly anxious, like he was avoiding your gaze. Crucial mistake when stealing.

Nate retuned back to you shortly, his body seemed stiff, and he wiped some sweat from his forehead. He worked hard, you could say that, but he mostly looked nervous.

“I assume you already know who I am, since you didn’t ask”

He thought for a second as he looked into your pretty eyes, analysing your face, or rather admiring your features. He cleared his throat after he caught himself staring, breaking the intense eye contact and grabbing a glass to clean.

“I know” he replied shortly, continuing his act of polishing the glass.

Of course he knew who you were, your face was in the newspapers way too often for your own good, along with the change of surname every once in a while. He thought that those tabloids never did you justice now that he had seen you. In the pictures you always seemed gorgeous, but not even nearly as gorgeous as you were under the warm lights of the bar. They called you the “black widow of the upper east side", rumours about your intimate relationships with some of the richest men in New York were spreading like a forest fire. Even if in reality they were nothing more than just fiction, one thing was not, and it was your marriage to the owner of The Ritz-Carlton, the very place he worked at. Nate had heard about the divorce from clients here and there, everyone was talking about how you had managed to set him up into fake cheating on you so you could divorce him. Brilliant move, unfortunately, it was just a rumour. Maybe in your previous marriage you had pulled a stunt or two to get out with as much money as possible, fake accusations, setting up scenes, they were your speciality. But not this time, this time the cheating was very real and very much not your own idea. Maybe that's why this time it hurt so bad, because you actually loved your, now ex, husband. Defeat was something hard to admit for someone with so much pride and confidence as yourself. Nate knew nothing, only gossip.

“Then why did you take my bracelet? It was a gift from my ex husband” you asked, earning yourself a shocked looked for a brief second, before he put on his poker face and looked away. He had a few ways to play his cards in that moment, thoughts calculating the possible outcomes of each one.

“You could’ve lost it” he stated “Do you want me to look around and ask if anyone has found anything?”

You smile at him charmingly, making him blush slightly. You gracefully stood up from your stool, placing your arms on the bar as you hovered closer to him, faces side by side, your cheeks almost touching each other. You whispered in his ear softly, which got Nate’s heart beating so loud he could barely hear your words. While he was busy being nervous your hand travelled down to the pocket of his pants, slipping inside and finding the heavy jewellery that was previously on your wrist. The weight and shape of the bracelet felt familiar between your fingers, I’d worn it countless of times. You took it out, your hand travelling up Nate’s body.

“I have to admit your work is impressive” you said, hand still moving slowly up until you reached his shoulder. You knew he couldn’t feel a thing because your movement was slow enough and far away enough. “But you still have to master the speed of your hands, your touch needs to be like silk, felt only when you want it to be” you continued whispering in his ear.

You knew your mission was successful when he flinched at the touch of the cold diamonds against the bare skin of his neck. You smiled at him and pulled away, shock written all over his pretty face.

“Looks like I found my bracelet!” You giggled happily, clicking it on your wrist as he stared at you.

Nate obviously didn’t know what to say and how to react, he knew that one wrong move would get him fired, possibly arrested and charged with theft. However, your smile suggested otherwise.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re scared” you told him, taking a sip from the martini. “Don’t be, I wouldn’t say a word, actually, you can have the bracelet if you want it, I came here and I intended to lose it”

And it was the truth. It was the only gift your dear ex husband ever gave you that was not originally bought for his mistress and passed down to you when she didn’t like the gift. This was the only gift you knew, or at least liked to think that, was ever bought with the intention to be given to you. It hadn’t left your wrist in public since. After the divorce you kept it as a reminder that for a brief moment there actually was a version of you that was loved by your husband, there was a version of you that you were capable of loving someone too. Now it was a token of a broken, dysfunctional marriage, that came crumbling down the second your foot stepped out of the presence of your husband. With a swift motion you took it off, placing the bracelet on the bar. It sparkled almost blindingly under the soft interior light. Nate’s eyes kept travelling from your face to the bracelet and back. He was rested against the bar, unsure of what the right move was. He assumed it was some sort of trick that would get him in a lot of trouble. You smiled reassuringly as his hand reached for the diamond jewlery, taking it and placing it in his pocket again.

"Well, it's not every day that someone tips you with a diamond bracelet" he said, making you giggle softly

''You'll have more use of it than I do, that's for sure'' you told him, finishing up the martini. You took out the olive and ate it, starting to get lost in your sour thoughts about the bracelet and what it symbolised.

"Another drink?" he asked, taking you out of your train of thought

"Maybe another night" you said, feeling overwhelmed enough to want to leave. "All this bracelet talk kind of ruined my mood"

Nathan was undeniably very handsome, and you did come with the idea of not leaving alone but all the memories of your ex came rushing in and was about to turn your night into a nightmare. You took out some money from your purse to pay him from the drink but he stopped you, placing a hand over yours.

"It's on me"

"Aww, a gentleman" you smiled at him "Some lady is going to be very lucky with you"

"Maybe you could be that lady" he winked, shooting you a smile.

You looked at him confused for a split second, starting to laugh softly at his sudden boldness. You got up, collecting your things and straightening out your dress while he watched your every movement.

“You don’t have to be nice to me because I gave you the bracelet”

"I was serious" he stated "How about I pick you up after my shift and lighten up your mood?"

"Pick me up from where exctly?" you asked, almost not believing what he was saying.

"Here, 12:30, lose that dress and put on somethig more comfortable"

You looked at him in disbelief but agreed. As you walked away from the bar you could feel his eyes on you as you ocassionally stopped here and there too greet some people you knew. Maybe this "date" was going to be a nice change of pace. After all of the dating on the upper east side, the luxury restaurants, the balls, the charity events, you had no actual idea what people usually did when they were on normal dates anymore. After not one but two failed marriages, the dating world seemed so distant, so surreal. Frankly you had no intention to pursue anything serious with anymore, let alone a bartender that was your employee.

An hour later you found yourself staring dumfolded at your wardrobe, Nathan's voice kept repeating in your head "wear something comfortable". You mocked his tone aloud as you took out even more clothes to throw on your bed. Was he going to be in his work clothes? How were you supposed to match that up? Finally, you stopped on a blue high-waisted, wide leg jeans and simple black blouse. For a while you were considering black heels but decided to switch them up with some very old platform converse sneakers that you hadn't worn for years. You put on a leather bomber jacket to finish off the look. It felt ridiculous, you hadn't dressed this causal since freshmen year at university, having forgotten you even had those clothes at all. You sighed, shaking your head as you walked out of the door and headed towards the hotel. Unsrprisingly, you got there about 15 minutes late, which got you anxious because Nate could gotten discouraged and left. You looked around, not seeing him and you felt slightly disappointed, but not surprised. The whole situation was so odd to begin with, no wonder it didn’t follow through.

"And I thought you couldn't get more gorgeous" you heard from behind you, turning to be met with Nate's charming smile. He just walked out of the doors of the lobby, probably spotted you from inside.

"I'm sorry for the wait"

"It's alright, it was worth waiting for, come on, I'm starving" he said, taking your hand and leading you somewhere.

You followed him, as you walked the streets of New York hand in hand. He wasn’t in his work clothes, instead he wore a simple grey t-shirt with a leather jacket on top, black jeans and probably his work shoes. He had a backpack on one shoulder, assuming this was where he kept his uniform. The spring air was warm but there we ocassional cold brezzes. You looked around the flashy signs of shops and supermarkets, the monotonous souds of ocassional cars filled your ears, along with the calming sound of his footsteps a little ahead of yours. They say New York is the city that never sleeps and it's true, but despite living there your whole life, you never got to experience it in that way. You didn't really know where Nate was taking you but you didn't care either, too engaged in the scenery. Late night walks were something so foreign and so new, your eyes were shining more than the diamond bracelt that you gave him and he couldn't help but smile at how awed you looked by everything around you.

"You ever been to this side of town?"

"I have no memory of it"

"You're adorable" And that made you blush, hiding in his shoulder. He laughed at how cute you were being, stopping at a 24-hour sandwitch shop.

"Are you hungry?" He asked after the two of you got in

"I guess, it's kind of late though"

"Who cares?"

He ordered for the two of you, finally letting go of your hand so he could pay and grab the two cola bottles he had bought. In a couple of minutes your sandwitches were ready, so Nate guided you to the closest bech in the nearby small park. The park was adorable, it looked more like a sitting area with a playground for children. You really had never been to this side of town before. Nate started eating hungrily and you couldn't help but stare at how he devoured the food in his hands. You chuckled softly before bitting into your own sandwitch. It was warm in your cold hands and tasted way better than it actually looked. It wasn't like you had never eaten sandwitches on a bench before, but it was so long ago you could hardly recall when it really was. It did remind of freshmen year, being out late at night, eating fast food and meeting up with a guy you actually liked and had no intention to manipulate. It was, in a way, nostalgic even. After the two of you were done with your food the silence was finally broken.

"I feel so alive!" Nate exclaimed and startled you, making you jump in your seat. Both of you laughed softly at that.

"I'm glad you're happy and content" you said, rubbing his belly.

He got up from the bench, offering you a hand. You took it, following him up.

"So where are we going?" you asked finally

"You'll see." He said, continuing the walk. You got to an apartment buildind soon enough, he walked you to the alley on the side where the fire escape was.

"Come on, we go up" He told you, helping you get to the ladder. Nate followed closely behind, guiding you to the rooftop.

''I'm so glad I wore pants to this" You said once you reached the top.

"Yeah? Well I'm not" He joked, taking your hand again and walking you towards an area on the rooftop that had pouf chairs and fairly lights.

"It's so pretty" you said once he sat you down. Nate pulled one of the poufs next to yours and threw himself on it.

"Yeah, best part is, you can see the stars"

You looked up, despite the light pollution, you could really see stars and the moon almost clearly.

"You see this constelation there? It kind of looks like a pan?"

You nodded with a giggle at his description, following the arm that was showing you were to look. You scooted over to him, the top of your head touching his.

"That's Ursa Major..." he contionued

"The great bear"

"So you know your constellations?" he shot up, looking at you

"No, just latin"

"Oh in that case you're about to have a blast!"

And you really did have a blast, you sat there for hours listening to him, looking at the stars. It was so romantic that you wanted to melt into the chair and stay there forever. You lost track of time, reality even. It felt like you two were in your own small world on that rooftop and nothing and no one could reach you. Around 3 am the two of you started to get sleepy, cuddled up against eachother. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, your head rested on his chest. At some point the two of you had decided that moving on one pouf was better. Your eyes were starting to feel heavy while his voice soothed you into sleep.

"Hey" he said softly "Want me to drive you home?"

You nodded sleepishly, getting up after him. He drove you home in his slightly beat-up car, walking you to the door of the building.

"I really had fun tonight" you told him at the door "I really hope that you're not working tomorrow, it's so late"

"I'm glad you had fun, you shouldn't worry about me"

You nodded, kissing his cheek goodnight.

You hadn't had such a great date in a while, which made you think about Nate more in the past few days. How could you not? The pictures of the two of you wandering the streets of New York hand in hand, the headlines wondering who your new "victim" was. Your head would start hurting solely from the idea of putting him in this position. So, you decided it was best to talk to him. That night, you walked into the hotel in your usual attire, but this time the dress was champagne colored.

"Hi Nate" you said as you sat down. He greeted you with his charming smile, wiping the bar in front of you.

"A martini?" He asked, grabbing the bottle

"Actually, a word in private"

He had a puzzled look on his face but followed you to a more private area by the windows. Neiter of you sat down, you were too nervous to adress the topic and he became nervous from your worried state.

"I'm sure you've seen the papers..."

"Oh my god it's about that!" he sighed in relief, placing his handa in his pockets

"What else could it be about?"

"From the way you acted I thought someone died"

"Well, no, I just wanted us to talk about the pictures and say I'm sorry"

"Sorry about what? The way they talk about me?"

"Precisely"

"Well, I find it amusing actually"

"I don't people seeing us and thinking that way"

"I don't care about who sees, I like you"

You looked up at him with sadness in your eyes and it seemed like he got the idea you had in mind. He shook his head in disbelief, his hand reaching out to hold your waist and bring you closer.

"You can't be serious"

"I am"

His hand travelled up, cupping your chin.

"I'll have to kiss you now, you know that" he whispered againt your lips. You closed your eyes and waited, his lips pressing softly against yours. You returned the kiss but your hands remained on your clutch, afraid that the whole thing was going to get out of control if you got too touchy.

"I should have kissed you that night" he whispered against your lips

"You should have"

"You'll wait for me right? I'll become rich for you, I promise"

You nodded in response, hugging him tightly, feeling his heartbeat agaisnt yours and the warmth of his body. You could feel his gaze as you walked away, probably the hardest walking-away you had to do in a long while.

The picture of the two of you kissing also made the papers.

A week later Nate left his workplace and you didn't hear a word from him.

[sunfyresrider]

“maybe we should kiss ... just to know how it's like.”

Synopsis: Neteyam has been your best friend since birth, attached at each other’s hip in every sense. As time changes so do his feelings, his best friend turning into his biggest desire. What happens when time for him to confess quickly runs out? Tags: Friends to loves, fluff, nervous confessions, kissing. Word Count: 1284 Author’s Note: @inlovewithpandora baby thank you so much for requesting and I pray you enjoy this❤️❤️

Neteyam closed his eyes, relaxing his body completely as your fingers meticulously braised the few strands of his hair that had fallen loose. This was nice, he thought to himself. If he could, he would spend forever like this, alone with you in the forest away from the bustle of the clan, situated between your legs and listening to your sweet humming.

Unfortunately for Neteyam the clock was ticking, the time for you both to choose a mate quickly approaching. Ever since he could remember you’d been attached at the hip, a life without you seemed foreign, unimaginable even. If he moved you moved, always perfectly in tune with each other’s every thought. As all things go, you were just best friends at first, but feelings change with time.

At fourteen there was a change in his mind, you had grown into yourself, growing taller and sharper each year, still shorter than him though. It was the first time Neteyam truly realized you were beautiful, not just to him, but objectively so. The way your hair fell across your face when you laid on your stomach, or how your eyes crinkle when you laughed, everything about you was breathtaking.

At sixteen your relationship shifted, you had always been physically affectionate with each other but now the touches seemed more intimate. When your hands interlocked it felt like your souls were connected, like your hearts were beating as one. His hands grew rougher, yours smoother, his broad shoulders became even broader and your curves became even more pronounced. You two fit together like puzzle pieces.

At eighteen he couldn't deny that he loved you. Your beauty, your kindness, everything about you. He needed to be with you for the rest of his life. But you two were best friends, so rejection wouldn’t surprise him. However, other men were starting to notice all the things he already knew. He desperately wanted to ease into it, to feign innocence when he pried for information. But his mouth moved faster than his brain, asking you questions before he could think them through.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” You tilted your head to the side, your yellow eyes glimmering as you gently manipulated his hair. “A relationship? Neteyam I spend all of my time with you, how could I?” He let out a breath Neteyam didn’t realize he was holding, a smile gracing his features. It was a relief you haven’t had interest in anyone yet. Of course, he would have probably noticed but you could be sneaky. “Why do you ask? Has someone caught your eye and you’re in desperate need of advice?”

Your eyebrows raise, “Ooh, who is the lucky girl? Perhaps I may know of them?” Your eyes glimmer with mischief as you lean in closer, resting your hand on his shoulder. Your touch alone made his cheeks flush a hue or purple, fingers burning marks into his skin. “You know them very well.”

The question caught him off guard, he didn’t think far enough ahead before asking. Would confessing now even be worth it? What could he possibly say that wouldn’t ruin your years of friendship and trust. Neteyam cleared his throat, awkwardly smiling to himself. “Oh no reason in particular... but I guess there’s someone I like.” He silently cringed to himself as the words fell out of his mouth.

The air between you two seemed to shift, growing tense as you sat in silence. It took all of Neteyam not to squirm under your gaze, to not spill out every secret he had ever kept from you. Your eyes bore into his, scanning his face for any hint of a clue. Your heart sunk to the pits of your stomach, a sharp ache creeping into your heart. You didn’t know he had time for another girl, let alone someone you knew. It had to be one of your closet friends, Syanan or Kiralu. Neither of them seemed to be his type, granted you’ve rarely spoken about people you’ve liked.

A part of you always thought you were both secretly in love with each other, you realize now it was delusional to think such. You pushed these feelings down for now, ignoring the subtle hurt you were not chosen. Neteyam was your best friend before anything… It was your duty to put his happiness over yours. After what felt like ages you finally spoke, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’ve already gone and fallen in love… how cruel, Neteyam. To leave me behind like that, you must be heartless.” You feign defeat, placing a hand over your forehead.

Oh, he thought to himself, his confession was too vague. “Well, I mean I haven’t had my first kiss either…” he trails off, the blush on his face growing. He didn't dare look at your face, he knew that you must be staring at him with those big eyes, probably thinking he was even more childish than before. “Maybe we should kiss ... just to know how it's like.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of purple, your mouth slack as you tried to come up with a response. Kissing Neteyam? The thought of being so close to him, breathing in his scent, feeling his lips on your own made you shiver. But how would you feel after? It would only complicate things... but it was only a kiss... right? When would you ever get a chance to be so close to him again.

Neteyam was serious. His words were so sincere, like he had been pondering the idea for weeks. In truth, he had, but that's besides the point. “Do you really want to? I mean... yeah... I guess... for experience's sake... and stuff." He gulped, nodding his head and leaning forward. You followed suit, your heart pounding in your chest. Neteyam stopped just before you two made contact, his breath hot against your lips. The air between you was thick with tension, an intense pressure building up in your chest. He couldn’t do it, not like this.

“I need to tell you something,” his voice was barely above a whisper, his lips ghosting over yours as he spoke. Your eyes were barely open, he was so close you could practically taste his breath. “Yeah?” Neteyam leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. “I’m in love with you,” he murmured against your lips, wrapping his arms around your face as he pressed his lips against yours before you could react.

Your eyes widened as you processed his confession, your heart exploding in your chest as he kissed you. It was all too much, a jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling inside of you. But there was one clear thought, one that drowned out all the rest. You were in love with him too.

You returned the kiss with the same passion he had, your hands finding their way into his hair. Your lips awkwardly fumbled against each other at first, but it wasn't long before you found a rhythm, your tongues dancing together. His taste was intoxicating, better than anything you could have imagined.

His lips were so soft and sweet, they tasted like the fruit he had eaten earlier. You felt his hands move to your back, pulling you closer. The kiss was filled with desperation, both of you trying to make up for the years you had wasted dancing around each other. Neteyam's hands slowly slid up your back, making their way to the nape of your neck.

You broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to catch your breath. Neteyam stared at you, his eyes filled with desire.“Can we do that again?"

[buckyalpine]

Clean Shaved

18+  Okay but imagine instead of you, it’s fuck boi Bucky who got all cute and prepped ready for you. He’s been bugging you for a date even since he found out your had a crush on him and you said no because you were not about to get your heart broken. But he’s adorable. And he’s puppy eyes get to you so you reluctantly agree to one date to get him to shut up.

One date. 

He’s excited as hell and he can’t help but get a little cocky because he always gets what he wants by the end of the night all the time. Not that he wants to use you, he actually really likes you but he can’t help that his fuck boi tendencies come out to play. He fully intends on treating you like a princess but his horndog side is out and about. 

He’s in the shower, all scrubbed down and lathered before trimming and shaving himself smoother than a baby. He’s in his all black outfit which breaks hearts instantly, he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

When you see him, you shake your head because between the all black and leather jacket and motor bike and the scent of his body wash and cologne, the little shit had come fully prepared. 

You’re actually surprised at how sweet he is the entire date and part of you wants to give in so badly and just let him have his way with you but you will yourself to keep it in your pants. You let him kiss you goodnight before shutting the door, giggling when you hear him groan, butterflies still fluttering in your tummy. Maybe he didn’t get lucky this time but...

By the end of the night he’s pouting in his room, looking down at his pretty cock and perfectly clean shaven balls, wishing you were between his legs. I mean it’s too pretty to not play with and if you weren’t going to touch him, he wasn’t about to let his work go to waste. 

His hand isn’t the same as yours but he’s letting it wander, deciding to tease himself first, cupping his balls, tugging and gently squeezing them. His skin is soft and smooth, you would have loved how easily you would have been able to lap him up, tasting him on your tongue, laving up his seam. 

He groans, letting his thumb toy with his balls, holding them and rubbing up and down the middle before moving his other hand to grasp at his cock, working his length in long strokes. He would have shown you how he likes to be touched, how to stroke him, how to suck him. He would have guided your hand to massage the head of his cock, making a mess on your fingers. 

His cock is leaking with precum, his fingers twirling it around his sensitive head before using it to lube his cock, moaning as he started to fuck his fist, imagining all the places you could put your mouth of his soft silky skin. It doesn’t take long for him to work himself up to making a mess on himself, thinking about your pretty face and how hard he’d cum just for you. His hands are wet and sticky, cum dribbling steadily from his tip, throbbing and pulsing. 

He knows he could stop, clean himself off and go to bed but he’s still touching himself, breathing heavier. He can’t help but moan desperately, using his cum to keep stroking, his still hard cock over stimulated, driving towards a second orgasm. He shouts as cum coats his tummy, squeezing his legs together, nearly rolling over from an overwhelming amount of pleasure, his balls covered in his mess, his cock soft in his hand. 

He continues to pump out little dribbles of cum thinking about how you’d clean him up and eat him up like the pretty boy he is, kissing that pretty pink cock, nipping at the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. He falls asleep naked because he loves the way the sheets feel on him, espesically down there. He may or may not have humped himself into a wet dream, relishing in the feeling of his bare soft skin rubbing the silk and cotton sheets. He moans your name in his sleep, getting the best rest of his lift because he’s never felt more relaxed. 

Maybe nothing happened this time but you did agree to a second date...

Little does he know you’re at home with your toy between your legs, your own pretty pussy making a mess for him. 

[sublimecatgalaxy]

AAAAAAAAA PEETA ENEMIES TO OOVERS AND THE “I really don’t like you” DIALOUGE OH MY LORDT IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH IM SO EXCITED AKRJSKFNMFH

I LOVE THIS!!

"Did Effie give you the speech too?" Peeta asks as he enters the back of the train, his presence tugging an eyeroll from me and I mentally hit myself for not hiding in the bathroom instead- somewhere where he can't he can't be obnoxiously nice to me.

"About behaving?" I ask him, scooting over so he can sit next to me on the couch, folding my legs up into my chest as I hug them. "Yes."

"She told me I'm supposed to try to convince you to like me." Peeta says with a small smile and blushed cheeks and it almost makes me smile but I remember that I promised myself to choose to be annoyed by him so I would not inevitably fall in love with him.

But it's so damn hard.

"That's easier said than done." I scoff, looking out the window at all of the colored trees, trying to not make eye contact with him, knowing better than that and knowing that a blush would immediately rise up my neck and my cheeks would heat up.

"C'mon." He nudges me, electricity sparking under his touch and it sends goosebumps up my arm and down my spine. "I bet, deep down, you tolerate me more than you think." I give him a deadpanned look and a scoff, lying through my teeth with a shake of my head.

"I really don't like you." I mutter, glaring at him through my lashes as he laughs, shaking his head at my blatant lie.

"And I really don't believe you." He sighs, stretching his arm out on the couch behind me, leaning towards me a bit with a simple pat on my shoulder. "This whole tour will go ten times smoother if you just let go a bit."

"I just really don't want to be here." I breathe sincerely, finally meeting my gaze and I allow myself to slip into him for a moment, leaning into the way that his hand rests on my shoulder, soothingly rubbing circles into my skin.

"And it's not my fault that you are." His voice is stern and an example of his frustration towards my faux dislike towards him and I give him a soft smile, nodding my head in acknowledgment. Maybe I'll go easy on him this time. "I don't want to be here either."

"I know." I reach up to pat his hand that's sitting on my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, I get it." He shrugs and I laugh, feeling frustrated but also comforted tears rise to my eyes but I'm quick to blink them away.

"You're too nice." I scoff, watching him make his way to his feet, prepared to walk out of the room but he turns to me at the last second and he sends me a wink.

"Eh, it balances out your attitude."

"Peeta!"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres

[aemondtargaryenonlyfans]

BUMP START.

Part 2 of The Devil You Know

Biker!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

What was supposed to be a quiet start into the day ended with a surprising question... and a lot of surprising feelings.

WORDS: 2.6 K

WARNINGS: just some sexual tension, some teasing, some somewhat cocky Aemond Targaryen

NOTES: I know I've written this, but reader definitely is stronger than me when it comes to Aemond, tbh.💀 Aemond is confident and self-assured, but not in an asshole kind of way. He has different sides to him, but you‘ll get to know some of them throughout this series.

It was 9:30 am sharp when you pulled into the parking lot in front of the Choppers, your father’s old Jeep Wrangler coming to a stop with a whole lot of difficulties, the squealing brakes announcing your arrival. While you were incredibly grateful for him providing you with the car in the first place, you would've not minded taking out his motorcycle instead–except for the fact that you don’t know how to drive one, and that your father’s motorcycle is far too big and heavy for you. 

Just the thought of feeling a bit more connected to the place, the bar and the people visiting it was what made you want it in the first place, knowing being a biker yourself would secure you a permanent spot with the Savage Dragons. But you and your family struggled to make ends meet, so, getting your own motorcycle, and the license on top, were the last things on your list. 

In front of the bar stood several motorcycles, but the most striking one among them was a sleek black Harley-Davidson Fat Bob 114. You had heard rumors of whom it belonged to, and wondered what had happened the previous night for its owner to leave his bike behind, standing in the open in the midst of busy King’s Landing.

Your keychain fell to the ground as you closed the heavy front door behind you, and the silence of the empty bar was pierced by a tired groan. You picked them up at lightning speed and put the individual keys between your fingers, ready to jab an assailant at any given moment. 

“Who’s there?” you asked, putting on the most threatening tone you could muster while prowling around the empty tables. It was then, as you reached the bar and turned on the lights, that you spotted a flash of silver on one of the corner benches in the back of Choppers. And then you spotted the leather jacket hanging over one of the chairs, a golden, three-headed dragon shimmering on the back of it. There’s no way, you thought to yourself, rubbing your palms to prepare yourself for the inevitable meeting with Dracarys’ ominous and unofficial president, Aemond.

The man grumbled and stretched his ridiculously long legs, protruding far over the edge of the bench. “It’s me.” And with no oldschool rock thrumming in the background, his voice sounded even smoother. 

He looked absolutely whacked, and from the way he rubbed his eyes–yes, eyes, the eyepatch rested on the table next to him–it seemed as if he didn’t have a comfortable night. 

“What are you doing here?” You moved to stand behind the counter, feeling more comfortable with something solid between you to grant you some sense of safety alone with a stranger in an empty bar. 

“Gods,” he groaned, “how late is it?” Aemond pulled out his phone and glanced at the black screen while still lying on his back. It was obvious his phone had died, because he sighed and slammed it on the table before craning his neck to look at the clock hanging at the wall behind you. The bar was naturally dimly lit, and with him being in the far back, you couldn’t see his face properly. “Fuck, it’s way too early.”  

You scoffed, and filled the sink with hot water, cleaning the glasses that had piled up the counter. “Got drunk after I left, and no one to bring you home?” you asked, though there was a certain snappiness to your tone–at least snappier than initially intended. You blamed it on him interrupting the only quiet hours you would get all day with your shift starting in two hours, while deep down your nervousness certainly played into it, too. 

Aemond rose from his spot with a dry chuckle at your attitude. He fixed his disheveled hair, and since your eyes flickered over his frame from his shoes up to his hands, you quickly averted them the moment you spotted the eyepatch dangling loosely between his slender fingers, which meant his supposedly sapphire eye was uncovered. 

Even though someone missing an eye was something completely natural and normal, it still felt eerily intimate to you. Perhaps, he was still half asleep, not fully aware that you haven’t seen his missing eye before, or perhaps he just didn’t care. Something in you tried to resist the urge to look up at him, to gawk at his eye, and it felt as if your whole body was frozen in place with him creeping closer to you. 

Your face was titled down with your eyes fixed on the sink, being extra careful to scrub every glass spotless in order to not meet his eyes, and Aemond seemingly became aware of what you were doing. A deeply buried part of him was grateful, because it meant he got to spend just a few more minutes without being judged for his condition openly, but you didn’t strike him as someone so judging, and he was certain Jace and Luke had told you about the prosthetic. But he also wanted to see how long you could keep it up, especially with him being right in front of you. He smirked to himself, and sat down on one of the bar stools. 

“Some ass cut the fuel line of my motorcycle,” he replied. 

Aemond leaned over the counter, fetching one of the cleaned glasses, and poured himself a tap beer as if he’d done that plenty of times before. The instinct to swat his hands away, just like you had done with Baela’s multiple times in the past, was big, but you withstood it. However, you gauged at his hands, memorizing the veins that ran along their backs, decorated with tattoos, and disappearing under the long sleeves of his black shirt.

You raised your brows, seeming unconvinced. “And Aegon didn’t want you to ride shotgun?”

He took a swig of his beer. “I have to put up with Aegon all day long. It’s kinda nice to have a night all to yourself. Just told Jason to pick me up in the morning.”

“And how would you have gotten out of here today?” 

Aemond slightly tilted his head, one eyebrow cocked in a smug manner. “I know about the spare key taped under the counter right…,” he trailed off and leaned forwards over the counter, coming dangerously close as he reached next to you, nimble fingers curling beneath the countertop to retrieve said spare key, “... here.”

While his movements and proximity choked the air out of your lungs, you felt unable to move and merely processed what he had done when he presented you the key, captured between his index and middle finger. You snatched it from him, ignoring the goosebumps that littered over your skin as you touched him, and put it right back where it came from. 

“And you prefer to sleep in your uncle’s bar, on one of the most uncomfortable corner benches to ever exist, just to have a few hours without your brother?”

“Exactly,” he said, keeping his eyes on you, whereas you hadn’t directly looked at his face once, “it’s nice to spend a night and a morning all alone before a damn long shift at the shop.”

The thoughts of his missing eye were pushed to the back of your mind at his statement, your head tilting up with your eyes narrowed to look at him. Yours slightly traced over his chiseled features, and when you eventually spotted the sapphire blue prosthetic eye, you couldn’t say that you weren’t a bit disappointed. “So, you’re telling me you both work, huh, like, getting your hands dirty and all?” It was more of a teasing question, though a hint of disbelief lingered in your tone.

While his breath caught in his throat when your eyes finally met, clearly anticipating the usual stuttering, the flushed face and neck, the not knowing where to look and, worst of all, even apologizing for looking at him, he was laser-focused to spot any signs of disgust or repulsion on your features. When nothing of the matters above followed, he was pleasantly surprised. But he was able to notice something else flickering in your eyes–something that came close to fascination.

“Getting our hands dirty, and everything that comes with it, sweets,” the nickname slipped past his lips with such ease once the shock of your first eye contact passed. You knew it merely was the payback for your previous teasing, and yet you blushed. It was repulsive when his brother said it, despite Aegon being easy on the eyes and carrying quite the charisma, but it sounded ten times better when it came from Aemond. 

“Just joking,” he was quick to add, obviously not wanting to push the limits. “We work at the Lannister’s shop, mostly fixing the motorcycles, but I could certainly get some cars to drive, too.”

Inappropriate thoughts clouded your mind. Visions of a sweaty Aemond, grunting and groaning at a particularly hard task, covered with a few streaks of oil and a thin sheen of sweat that not only accentuated his tattoos, but also highlighted his muscles and veins. You had bitten your bottom lip, only pulled out of your thoughts at the dull thud of Aemond putting his almost emptied pint back on the countertop. Your cheeks lit up in embarrassment as you noticed what had happened, trying to get your mind off it by taking care of the glassware. 

Once the glasses were stored in the cabinet, you slightly bowed forwards and gripped the edges of the counter, meeting Aemond’s eyes. Only then you noticed the slight color difference in his healthy eye and the prosthetic. The right one was more of a steel blue, whereas the left one indeed was colored in a sapphire blue. From the way Jace and Luke had told it, you fully expected a real sapphire to be popped into the socket, though the one he now wore definitely had more charm. A very faint scar ran from his cheek up to his forehead, barely noticeable without looking closely. 

You could’ve sworn you’d seen him squirm under your gaze. Just slightly.

 “I’d have to see that myself to believe you and Aegon are actually working for your money,” you noted, an amused tone laced within your voice. 

Aemond chuckled, still somewhat baffled by your bold staring, “feel free to drop by whenever you feel like it. I’ll be at the shop at least until 6pm today… and every other day, too.”

Grabbing a rag, you wetted it and came back from behind the counter to start wiping down the tables. The awkward tension between you two had vanished into thin air rather quickly, and you actually found him to be one of the very few people you could have pleasant conversations with. 

Aemond turned in his seat and watched your every move just like he had done the night before. Instead of the skirt, you wore skinny jeans this time around, and they did nothing to hide your curves. Perhaps he had to put the eyepatch over his healthy eye to stop himself from staring at you like a bitch in heat. 

“I wouldn’t have thought that your brother’s quite a handful,” you stated, not bothering to look at him from over your shoulder. You had a feeling you’d catch him staring if you did, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that without wanting to jump his bones right then and there.  

“Aegon is many things, and when he’s not a handful, he’s a menace.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about that.”

“Sure you did,” came his reply, a strange edge you couldn’t assign to it.

You think nothing of it, mind still lingering on the stupid excuse he had given about sleeping in the bar, and you had to bite the insides of your cheeks to stop your lips from curling into a grin, yet the ‘mhmm’ you made could even be heard by him. 

A few empty glasses Cregan clearly had missed the night before were balanced in your hand as you walked back towards the bar, but instead of walking around it, you approached the vacant space next to Aemond, placing the glasses on the countertop. You felt his eye on you, and in your peripheral vision you saw him watching you. Again, or still. 

You half turned to face him, a tilt of your head exposing your neck while your eyes took him in for a few seconds, examining his chiseled jaw, the way his lips had curled into a confident smile, his nose, and how his eye couldn’t seem to choose between your lips and eyes. “What?” 

“You ever go out with any of your customers?”

Your eyes widened for a moment, but relaxed just as quick. You leaned against the counter, your upper body bowing towards him a bit. 

“I don’t particularly like going out with men that don’t even bother to ask my name,” you quipped. 

You were able to spot the exact moment the sting of reaction settled in, his smile faltering ever so slightly before returning to the way it was before, the hurt apparent. You felt bad that he obviously didn’t get your teasing, and your mind raced with something to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin your chances with him. He pressed the tip of his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and dragged his eye from your lips, to your cleavage and eventually up to your eyes. 

“Well, what’s your name?”

You released a puff of air, but still told him your name and brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear as you did so. 

“So, I take this as a yes then?” Aemond asked, the arched eyebrow indicating he was searching for your reassurance. 

Without thinking about it, you brushed your fingertips over his thigh, seemingly contemplating his question. He shifted in his seat, tensing up, which you took as the cue to pull your hand away as fast as it got there. 

You bit your bottom lip. “I’m working tonight. Come by and ask me again.”

It took a moment for the weight of those words to set in, allowing you to take a step back from him to disappear behind the bar again. As he scoffed and pushed his silver hair back, you were near fainting, clutching the edge of the counter for support while you leaned on it. 

In the pregnant pause between you both, you heard the distant honking of a car, indicating that his ride was there. 

“Guess that’s my cue to leave,” he said, bringing the pint up to his lips to drown the rest of it, before he thrummed his fingers on the countertop and rose from his seat. Your face dulled, having enjoyed the easy banter and flirting perhaps a bit too much. 

The cheeky wink he sent you came out of the blue, and was the last blow to catch any words that might have left your lips in your throat. He walked towards the corner bench in the far right and fetched his leather jacket, putting it on. It accentuated the natural broadness of his shoulders, the gold of the three-headed dragon on the back and the greenish-golden flames around it complementing the silver of his hair.  

As much as you enjoyed seeing him leave, you also loathed it. 

With the door handle already in hand, Aemond opened the door but stopped in his tracks right away. “Y/N?” Hearing your name leave his lips was like music to your ears, and you wondered how it would sound spoken in a completely different manner… and an entirely different situation. 

You tilted your head up from your spot behind the sink to meet his eyes, raising your eyebrows.

“See you tonight.” While he left the Choppers to meet his friends outside, you were left with a pounding heart and an aching between your legs, forced to swallow the lump in your throat that formed at the thoughts of your upcoming shift. 

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[cosmicdumpling]

crazy for you » jung wooyoung

SYNOPSIS: Wooyoung seems to have harbored a crush on you for a while now, and as much as he hates it, he manages to hold out just fine. A trip to the beach with the rest of your friends, however, becomes a huge threat to Wooyoung’s remaining resolve.

PAIRING: wooyoung x gn!reader (they/them pronouns used)

GENRE: romance/fluff, suggestive, humor

THEMES: best friend!wooyoung, best friends to lovers, pining, implied uni students!ateez and reader

⚠️  WARNINGS: profanities, alcohol, aggressive kissing (???), poor san kind of cockblocks and wooyoung decides to traumatize him

WORD COUNT: 8.0k

➺ MAIN MASTERLIST

Wooyoung lets out a long wheeze.

Beside him sits San, who’s withdrawing the metal straw that’s halfway through his mouth as he glances over at the coughing man with a weirded-out expression. He makes the effort to set his drink back down onto his thigh, the damp bottom of the glass creating a huge patch of wet circle on his light blue shorts. Wooyoung coughs again to draw out his previous choking, inhaling a huge amount of air before sighing, gulping, and straightening up on his seat again.

“You okay?” Asks San as he gently pats Wooyoung’s back, who grimaces but nods his head nonetheless as a reply.

“Yeah, yeah. Liquid just went down the wrong lane, that’s all.” He clears his throat, taking a careful sip from his smoothie just as his eyes smoothly dart over to take a glance at your direction again; this time, taking the time to properly take in your presence without embarrassingly choking on his own drink.

Hongjoong is the first to acknowledge your presence, followed by Seonghwa, and then the rest. Like how Wooyoung had expected, they instantly gush about your rather fresh and new look, dressed in a summery outfit that’s quite different from your usual style, but still looking incredibly good that it momentarily sends the two fashion enthusiasts to another dimension.

It’s the reason behind Wooyoung’s twenty-second choking too, but nobody’s supposed to know that.

It hasn’t been that long since you all arrived in the place― a rather cosmopolitan beach that’s a four-hour drive from the capital. The vacation had been planned months prior, but none of you had the time and the headspace to make it happen after a surge of projects and final examinations in the season. It most certainly came as a surprise when Yeosang was the one who’d brought it up after everything― considering he’s normally the silent one who goes along with whatever is decided or claps back to a stupid idea that somebody might chip in to the group. But it’s also especially because of the fact that Yeosang is the one who’d said he wanted to push the vacation through, and the fact that you had all been through hell, that the long-standing and almost completely wiped out trip to the beach finally happened.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong had everything planned out from the accommodation, to the food, down to the activities, so your arrival and checking in was fortunately a lot smoother than it’s supposed to be. After setting foot on the destination, and after a few arrangements and preparations here and outfit changes there, you’re finally coming out to gather at the beachfront for the sunset campfire, as per what’s written on Seonghwa’s very intricate itinerary.

Wooyoung forcefully tears his gaze from you, afraid you’ll catch him staring so badly and tease him about it. 

He’s a huge pest himself, but he prefers to be the one on the annoying side and not the other way around. So instead, he chews on the little crumbs of ice from his smoothie and frowns ahead at the shining sun to conceal and bluff the reactions you’ve managed to contract from him.

He tries desperately to hide it because you aren’t supposed to be cute, you’re supposed to look like a porcupine in his eyes or something, and he’s supposed to tease you because of that. He’s supposed to let out a hyena laugh, annoy you to death, then play fight with you until the end. That’s how it has always been in the course of your lifelong friendship. But for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

And he swears it’s getting more and more ridiculous how this has happened a lot of times lately. 

On your class reunion.

At a mutual friend’s birthday party.

At your apartment when you had a movie night and a sleepover, and you were even only in some plain freaking sweats and a comfy loose shirt!

He absolutely hates how the thought of him being attracted to you looking so homey makes him seem like a true domestic fool in love.

It also scares him even more how those times are the only times he’d begun to realize and process those feelings properly, because he’d been feeling them for so long before he’d begun to take notice of it.

Wooyoung had always thought you were pretty, and decent, too― that’s what he always says as a response to people telling him that you’re gorgeous or cute, or anything of the like. 

It’s not like he’s lying though― yes, he does find you attractive, but a few years before, you were the type of attractive that was “not just for him”. His compliments directed towards you are always genuine; it has always been, but of course he’d cover that up with some sort of statement that would have been seen or deemed as offensive if he isn’t your best friend.

Wooyoung always liked showing affection, but always mischievously if not one in sadder days. And so it has been bugging him, for quite a long time now really, why he seems to be so disturbed over your presence and why it gets harder and harder for him to get the additional teasing statements out that normally followed his compliments without some offensive stuttering.

Or without averting his gaze. 

Or hesitant eye contact. 

Or an erratic heartbeat.

For him, it’s frustrating, really, because he isn’t as dumb as he hopes he would be and he knows exactly what it means.

“Well, how do I look?” Your voice snaps him out from his daze, and if not for the littlest bit of sanity left in him, he would have choked on his drink again. Thankfully, he doesn’t, but now you’re standing in front of him in all your glowing glory, which makes it harder for him to compose himself. It must be hilarious, he thinks, that you’re awfully oblivious to his twitchy and jumpy attitude— even twisting and turning to show off the outfit that you’ve planned solely for this trip weeks prior. 

And it pains him how you look absolutely, breathtakingly, gorgeous in it.

Wooyoung hums, pretending to attentively look at you for a moment before leaning back into the bench, swinging his arm to rest against the backrest as he frowns up at you. “Like Chewbacca in a summer outfit.”

At his reply, your smile drops and you glare at him, though it’s rather lighthearted. Clicking your tongue, you roll your eyes at him before toying with the sleeves of your clothes, examining your outfit again.

“Come on, Wooyoung, they don’t look bad! In fact― oh my fucking god, you must be kidding me,” San manages to choke out after looking up from playing a game on his phone, blinking in rapid succession as he looks up at you with wide eyes. “You’re so pretty though?”

“Hey, I never said Chewbacca looked bad,” Wooyoung clicks his tongue, turning his head to look at San, who’s setting his phone and drink aside to approach you. “It’s you who insinuated some negative note on my statement and made it some sort of Chewbacca slander.”

Wooyoung’s gaze absentmindedly follows yours and San’s movement as he speaks. San holds your hand and helps you twirl around, a bright smile gracing your face at the attention you were getting from the man.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You reply with an exaggerated flick of your foot as you twirl once more, causing crumbs of sand to purposefully hit Wooyoung, who jerks back in shock with a scrunched face. Your laughter echoes in his ear, and he opens his eyes, looking at you with some kind of fiery determination that sends you laughing even harder.

“You little―”

Wooyoung stands on his feet and grabs a handful of sand, chucking it to you as some sort of retaliation. A shriek leaves your lips and you dodge his hits by running around before you begin engaging into some hilariously intense sand battle; laughs and shrieks filling the open area as it steals much of the attention from the people around.

“You scoundrels! Look, my smoothie is full of sand― get a damn room already!” San whines, dodging the crumbs of sand that come his way while frowning down at his wasted drink. He wastes no time in grabbing Wooyoung’s drink though, making sure it’s sand-free before consuming it instead.

Continuing your little play-fight, the laughter increases, though you get closer and closer to the shore. And just as you’re planning to fight him with seawater instead, bits of the sand that he chucks your way manages to enter your eye, so you halt on your spot with a wince.

“Ow,” 

Wooyoung takes a few moments to examine you from far away, watching you blink and rub your eyes before realizing that you’re actually serious, so he quickly jogs over while trying to bite back a guilty laugh.

“Let me see,” He snorts as he approaches, the small cold waves of water by the shore lightly hitting your feet, making you stumble a bit. Wooyoung’s quick to hold you close though, and he gently takes a hold of your chin.

“Stop rubbing your eyes! It’ll get worse,” He laughs, swatting your hand away, and you try to pry them open but ultimately fail upon feeling the sting as the (unfortunately) salty air hits your eyes. Wooyoung tells you to stay still just as he puts his hands on either side of your cheek; and when you just stand there, closing your eyes and not fighting him back, it’s like a bucket of ice water is dumped onto him.

Your eyes are shut close, steady breaths coming out of your nostrils as you wait for him to touch you. Before he could move, though, your hands find his button up shirt, clutching and bunching up the cloth to balance yourself with your vision blocked. Wooyoung looks at you again, this time, his gaze fixated on your lips— that’s become so, so appealing and inviting to him that he feels his breath choke high up his throat.

“What are you doing? Hurry up, stupid!” You scold, bringing your hand up to blindly strangle him (which results in you accidentally poking his eye), and he stumbles a bit with a laugh, rubbing it before blinking the momentary sting away.

Mentally, he’s already swatting and hitting and cursing himself for dazing out and thinking about kissing you― not directly, but still implied― because god, he’s literally being so weird he couldn’t take it, but it happened at the wrong time too, and he’s so fucked if any of the other boys were paying attention to him and realized how fishy he’s been acting. So, he clears his throat and gently takes your face in his hands once more, gently prying your eye open before blowing onto it.

“Why do you both hate each other so much?” Yunho’s voice comes from an adjacent spot as he chuckles, watching you both with much fondness with the others trailing behind him. Wooyoung snorts as a response, glancing scarcely at their direction whilst he cups your face and tries to pry your eyes open again, a cheeky grin adorning his lips.

“We don’t hate each other, we’re offensive soulmates. We’re used to it.” He mumbles before turning back to you.

After Wooyoung blows a gush of air onto it in a weak attempt to make the foreign object go away, you begin to open your eyes and slowly blink in rapid succession to adjust your vision. Your hands then unknowingly come up to hold Wooyoung’s that are still resting on the sides of your cheeks. The first thing that you see is Wooyoung’s face― his annoyingly handsome face at that― and you’re about to throw a jesting insult at him about it, but you see this charmed look in his orbs first, that the words get choked in your throat, unable to come out for some reason.

Wooyoung blinks, hands frozen while his shoulders are clearly tense, and his eyes trace a line from your eyes, to your nose, to the plump of your lips before the lump on his throat bobs up and down when he visibly gulps. Feeling a surge of panic from the sudden silence, he pulls his hands from your face then awkwardly shoves them inside his pockets instead.

“Now, now,” Hongjoong claps, a lop-sided grin tugging onto one corner of his lips as he catches everyone’s attention. He bites back a laugh when Wooyoung’s head snaps to his direction a little too fast in a poor attempt to feign attentiveness in the awkward atmosphere. 

Because Jung Wooyoung is everything but attentive, especially when it comes to Hongjoong.

“Everybody hasten up! Let’s start the campfire.”

Mingi had been squished flatter than a pancake halfway through the sunset campfire. 

He had been the scapegoat for the group’s games this time; twenty minutes into the game, and they’ve managed to have him take seventeen shots, which, apparently, is more than he could handle to make it through the night. Everybody seemed to be having their own fun even though nobody actually really got to play truth or dare― because fooling around in the spur of the moment seemed to be more appealing to everybody than the desire to play the, what San liked to call, “oldfangled and mainstream” game of truth or dare― many things had happened and the newfound comfort of just doing whatever seemed to be relaxing.

Wooyoung had thanked the heavens and around probably fifty two celestial beings for that, because had they played truth or dare with the boost of alcohol, he would surely be fucked.

Thankfully, everyone’s so distracted, because everything is fun when you’re tipsy or drunk. 

Seonghwa had managed to bring in some new friends for everybody; some people he’d met alone near the floating bar. There was one girl though, who Seonghwa really seemed to especially like; bringing a very huge smile to his face the moment she did so much as laugh.

Hongjoong noticed this, of course— patting Seonghwa’s back and encouraging him to make a move, knowing if he did, he’ll have the whole cottage room to himself tonight.

Right across you, Jongho is singing along to a song he slightly messes up out of being drunk, though his voice is as lovely as ever as he leads the whole group to jam. Yunho is play-fighting hand cobra with Yeosang right beside Jongho, while San and Wooyoung chats about something you couldn’t make out or hear, but it doesn’t matter.

At least he’s distracted enough to not know how good you think he looks in his gray silk button-up with its long sleeves messily rolled to his elbows.

On either side of you sits Ryujin and Lia, the friends of Seonghwa’s “friend”, whom you’ve grown close to within the first five minutes Seonghwa had introduced them to the group. The rest of your circle of friends scattered messily across you, especially Mingi who is sprawled out cheek-flat onto the sand while a grimacing Hongjoong tries to tug him back to his seat on the log, saying it’s not his bed and that he might be lying above the home of tiny crablets― which is quick enough to make him spring up and clumsily sit back up.

From the other end, Wooyoung sits with his elbows propped on his knees, the sound of faint laughter and chatter blurring around him; San’s words slowly becoming inaudible when he catches sight of you again. You’ve been watching everybody laugh and have fun for the most time― occasionally chatting with the girls. 

“Wooyoung, can you― hic― hand me some salted nuts?” Jongho pleads, which ultimately distracts him from his reverie, but he snorts and reaches over to grab the pack of nuts from the snack tray near him anyway.

From the corner of Wooyoung’s eye, he sees Lia and Ryujin whisper something to you before slipping out of their seats, heading together somewhere along the area. The sight of you sitting alone makes Wooyoung take a final sip from his drink before pushing himself to stand, taking the packs of salted nuts that Jongho had asked him for along with him.

“Hey! My salted nuts―”

“Managed to save you some before Jongho could hog them to himself,” Wooyoung mumbles, waving the packs around as he approaches you. Immediately, you snort and chuckle, seeing the rather mischievous smile on his lips while he weaves his way through the others’ horseplay.

“What a superhero,” You jest, leaning slightly to the side to peek behind him, only to see poor little Jongho struggling to crawl towards the snack tray, clumsily grabbing whatever snack he could see while a ‘stupid wooyoung’ falls off of his lips. Chuckling, you shake your head just as Wooyoung takes what used to be Ryujin’s seat just beside you. He opens his palm upward, showcasing the snack for you to take, quirking a brow when you give him a once-over.

“Thanks.” You say, slamming your hand atop his in an attempt to grab the snack, though Wooyoung’s hand tenses up, and you both lift your gazes to meet each other in the eye. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence, silence, and a little more silence before you begin to snort, and Wooyoung finally bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Since when were your hands this tiny?!” He almost shrieks, laughing his ass off once more before setting the pack of salted nuts aside to compare your hands. The sight of your hand, almost an inch shorter than his, makes you groan and roll your eyes with a smile.

“It’s not tiny! It’s just smaller than yours.”

“That counts!” He shakes his head, clearly finding amusement in the situation. Wooyoung’s gaze flickers momentarily to your face, then back to your touching hands, and his smile slowly fades as soon as he feels the tip of your skin gently sliding down to his palm. Before you could completely let your hand fall back down on your lap, Wooyoung’s fingers bend to enclose around yours, feeling and rubbing them slightly.

“Your hands are so cold though.” He gulps, continuing his miniscule actions as your fingers slowly wrap around his thumb with how he’s rubbing friction onto them. Wooyoung brings your tangled hands down to his lap before he takes your other hand, then tugging them up to his lips to blow on them.

There, you take notice of how his lashes flutter prettily against his cheek, how the point of his nose perfectly compliments the natural pout of his plump lips. He’s so effortlessly beautiful, as much as you hate to admit it, and he’s got your stomach turning into that of a zoo. 

Wooyoung is handsome― he always has been, but you’ve never really seen him in the same light, or at least you think you didn’t. Or you don’t want to. Or you didn’t― or whatever. Just as if he hears bits of your thoughts, he lifts his gaze, staring at you from below his lashes before he raises a brow at you out of faux intrigue.

“What, are you immune to this huge ass campfire?” 

Instantly, you find yourself shrugging, and though Wooyoung returns a little snort, it suddenly becomes awkward― not because you’re looking at each other with some hidden fondness, but because it suddenly becomes silent.

“Oh my god,” It’s Yeosang who speaks first and breaks the silence with a groan that makes you both turn to the others, who are already silently staring at you and Wooyoung out of intrigue. A small chuckle erupts from Yeosang and he shakes his head right after taking one single glance at your hands, then saying before he takes a sip from his drink, “You guys might as well just kiss.” 

You feel Wooyoung’s hand twitch in yours, making you snap out of your trance and slowly pull your hands away from his. Inwardly, you try to assess his reaction but then produce to cuss yourself for letting your obvious awkwardness slip― not even bothering to respond to Yeosang with an ‘ew’ or a mere ‘yuck’ just to save yourself some embarrassment for being unreasonably awkward. But it comes even more as a surprise as Wooyoung doesn’t even bother to throw a snide remark back, because he always does it, and there’s absolutely no reason for him to be embarrassed.

He even kisses your cheek in front of the others most of the time, just like he does with them— Yeosang’s words were nothing compared to that very public act of affection he displays in the daily, so why did it seem to weigh a lot this time?

But it’s really because Wooyoung’s brain is somewhere else, his remaining sanity prompting him to think of reasons as to why you pulled your hand away. Should he have said something to block Yeosang from making you feel embarrassed? Were you offended that at that moment, you were sort of linked to him for a bit? Or worse, did you not want to kiss him?

“But please, not in front of us.” Hongjoong kids, snapping Wooyoung out of his reverie as  he gives you both a rather teasing grin just as he throws a chip into his mouth. The others pay no mind to it― at least not really, just a little laugh here and there almost as if they’re… expecting it to happen. 

Eventually.

“Guys, I think the live band is starting―” Mingi groans, and his excitement for the live band (that he’s been looking forward to since forever) seems to overpower his drunk state as he’s the first to hear the subtle beating of the adjacent drums whilst it’s being tested. Hongjoong, being a musically-inclined person himself, is obviously excited as well as he quickly begins asking the others to pack up and gather their own trash to throw in proper waste bins before leaving to the stage. 

Thanks to Mingi’s incredible sharpness, you manage to secure spots near the front before people could crowd, which means you must make the most out of the experience. It doesn’t take more than five minutes and the band begins playing a series of pop songs to hype the energy of the crowd; the night is still young and yet to be enjoyed. Yunho’s the first to bump your side with his butt in an attempt to get you to dance, and in no time, you’re already grooving around with him like drunken fools. But it’s really just his energy that powers you to move around even when you’ve been too shy minutes prior; and you’re thankful for his existence.

You manage to spend time with each of your friends for every oncoming set of songs, and you think there’s nothing that can top the time and energy that you spend tirelessly. The band did a good job at starting and maintaining and then boosting the energy of the crowd from the start; from an exciting pop and reggae to a relaxing r&b. But as they near the peak of the night, the songs begin to reduce to calmer ones, the crowd growing as equally relaxed as they’re given time to recover from the fatigue that they just spent jumping around.

Just as you regain consciousness of what’s happening around you, snapping out from what seemed like a dream, you notice that Mingi is slightly dying near the left side of all the mingling bodies, not literally though― as he seemed to be a little too drunk after he’d continuously headbanged and drank and danced around to all the pop songs played earlier. Yunho is trying to tend to him though, trying to get him to stand up only to be as equally tired and shitfaced drunk as the other male is. You see Yeosang approaching the two of them, trying to get them out of the mingling bodies to the empty space just near the side, because if he doesn’t do that then they’ll obviously get stepped on sooner or later when they finally fall face-flat on the sand. 

Jongho on the other hand somehow managed to find his way on the stage, singing along with the original singer for a duet; Seonghwa is in an adjacent corner cheering Jongho on before turning to look at his fling sweetly, who’s cuddled to his side. Hongjoong is in the front row, holding up a digital camera to film Jongho like a proud stage mother as he sings on stage.

“y/n!” Somebody calls, and from the sound of their voice, they come from behind, so you turn. But before you could face the owner of the strained voice, smoke blows out from the pair of smoke machines on the stage. The bright lights reduce to a dim tone, and you squint to make the figure out emerging from the smoke.

Bright eyes, plump lips, exposed chest...

Wooyoung.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you,” He says, a relieved sigh escaping his lips before he reaches up to ruffle your hair.

“Hey,” Chuckling, you let the greeting roll smoothly off of your tongue right before playfully swatting his hand away. He submits to it, pulling his hand before shoving it inside of his pockets. 

Before he could say anything else, the bright lights reduce to a dim tone, the music shifts, and you both barely get to hear the words the singer utters before you’re looking around, baffled, seeing how people are suddenly facing each other in pairs instead of facing the stage. Wooyoung catches the word “romantic” only, and his eyes widen just as he swears he feels his heart leap from his chest.

Is the universe really toying with him on purpose? Because as far as he was concerned, he looked for you in hopes of jumping along to that one Justin Timberlake song, but now that he’s found you, he’s bound to share a rather intimate moment with you under this makeshift romantic atmosphere.

It would have been better, had he been alone. He could have settled at the back, leaned against a tall table and watched everybody kiss in front of him; he honestly couldn’t care less. But now, his friends are too far away, dancing with each other, cuddling with some people they barely know, or are just busy puking somewhere near the shore.

As if to make things worse, you’re standing right next to him, as stiff as a pole as you both face the stage; the people couples surrounding you either kissing or hugging to the fucking death to this Madonna love song. He figures he’d better be off drunk than to stand awkwardly right beside you, but he isn’t, and nor are you.

So you both continue to stand there, listening to the singer on stage.

A little awkwardly, you begin swaying along to the song― just because you don’t want to look too stiff or weird, so Wooyoung does the same. 

But of course, something just has to happen; and your hand just has to accidentally brush against Wooyoung’s, like any other romantic cliche. It happens once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Again, for the fourth time.

And going five.

With how often it’s happening, you begin to think that maybe Wooyung’s teasing again, so you steal a glance at him from your peripheral vision.

But your heart practically jumps to your throat when you see that he’s already looking.

Wooyoung clears his throat as you turn your head to him. “Nice song, huh?”

“Oh. Yeah,” You say, then it goes silent again, so you try to speak up again by saying, “It’s Madonna, after all.”

Thankfully, Wooyoung chuckles– the very single act that made you feel a little relaxed under the rather tense atmosphere.

“God, Seonghwa is actually ridiculous for finding a fling on the first day of our trip. But then again, it doesn’t really matter when he’s snuggling close with somebody while we’re just standing here, does it?” He manages to let out an actually believable chuckle to cover the underlying uncertainty of his voice. 

“True,” An airy chuckle leaves your lips as you turn to Seonghwa’s direction, watching him hold the girl close to his chest while the song plays. You look back at Wooyoung and nudge his arm with your elbow. “Well I guess it’s not that bad because you’re as lonely as I am.”

And you regret it immediately the second your words leave your lips because, what is that even supposed to mean? Wooyoung doesn’t respond as you hoped he would, though― he only snorts at you instead of taking offense and playfully fighting you to the end, like he usually would, but you think it’s better than him being all serious about it... probably.

There’s silence again, though you see Wooyoung gulp and inhale and exhale as if to calm himself down for some reason, so, feeling a strange surge of courage surge through you— with him seemingly as nervous as you are— you turn to him.

“Hey—”

“Woo—”

Your words come out in unison. 

Wooyoung beats you to it and jerks his chin towards you, saying, “You go first.”

Then your confidence deflates.

Fumbling slightly with your fingers, the moment heightens all the more when the instrumental starts playing and there’s a higher chance of Wooyoung hearing what you have to say. How crazy can you be, feeling all confident and then backing away in a split second? But that’s maybe because he has something equally important to tell you and what if it’s that he has a lover? Or a crush? Or something that might embarrass you if you speak first? But after gnawing on your bottom lip for a couple of seconds, gaze dropped to the floor out of worry and anxiousness, you finally decide to just let the gods have their way with your life, as long as you get this weight off of your chest. So you huff and say,

“This thing… do you feel it… too?”

―then beat yourself up for the question because, just what is that supposed to mean? As vague as it is obvious, you hope Wooyoung doesn’t really catch what you mean to ask, but somehow you also do. 

“What thing?” Is what Wooyoung says though, and it takes you two seconds long to process it, that he manages to add, “Oh, your sweaty hands?” before you could say anything else.

Just like that, your widened eyes reduce to a slant, deadpanning and glaring at him for his hilarious response. It’s supposed to make you laugh, and you are supposed to laugh because he might be oblivious and you have to cover it up.

But you don’t.

Instead, you murmur a small “Nevermind,” before turning away to face the stage again, refusing to believe you just made a fool of yourself in front of your own best friend, and maybe, crush. But it’s better than to have openly expressed your feelings and then getting turned down, isn’t it?

“y/n,” Wooyoung calls, his voice airy as if he’s about to laugh at you in the most hilarious way he possibly can, so you don’t turn to him. But being the overly persistent man he is, of course he continues poking on your arm, to which you dodge by clicking your tongue and moving away.

“Shut up, Wooyoung. I can’t hear the song.” You say, which is an ultimately lame excuse because the large speakers that blast the singer’s voice are tenfold louder than Wooyoung; but this embarrassment of yours causes a smile to tug onto the corners of his lips.Wooyoung coughs into his enclosed fist in an attempt to clear his throat, bottom lip getting caught in between his teeth as he tries to bite back a smile. 

One moment, you feel as though your heart dropped to your stomach, and then the next, you feel it rise up to your throat. It’s there and suddenly you can’t get words to come out of your lips because you feel Jung Wooyoung standing behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist whilst his cheek rests almost next to yours.

What I’m dying to say is that I’m crazy for you,

Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true

He sings the lyrics into your ear, and the singer’s voice seems to fade in the background because nothing is more heavenly than Wooyoung’s voice. Too stunned to move or even utter a word, you stand there, frozen in his arms while he begins to sway your bodies slowly. Then, your hand slowly finds its way atop his arm; and Wooyoung expects you to pull his arm away, but you don’t. 

You don’t tell him you feel his heartbeat speed up from your back.

I never wanted anyone like this,

It’s all brand new

Wooyoung spins you around, then gently takes a hold of your hand, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist just as he tugs it upward. The feeling of his skin on yours once more makes you lift your gaze to meet his eyes, and you catch him watching you with fondness in his gaze. His eyes flicker down once more to your free hand, and he does the same to it, now holding both of your hands before he brings it up to his shoulders, swiftly sliding closer to you, your fingers now subtly touching behind his neck.

Wooyoung’s gaze becomes rather shy as he lifts his gaze to meet yours once more, a small smile tugging on his lips as he places his hand cautiously on your waist. What’s annoyingly weird is that he’d done it so many times before— placing his hands there when he’s moving past you, on crowded parties, on formal dinners, or even stupid prom nights— but this time, there seems to be something different with the way you’re touching each other; like it feels more intimate and just… more.

With a gulp, you move closer to him and avoid his gaze. But Wooyoung is just determined to have you melt into a puddle as soon as possible because in a millisecond, he’s gently taking a hold of your chin, lifting it up, only to place his forehead against yours.

Your eyes dilate at the sight of Wooyoung so close to you― his lips just mere inches from yours. It’s the first time you’ve been this intimately close with him in such an intimidating atmosphere, but you like it. You really do.

His eyes are closed, and he continues to enjoy the moment— humming to the song— which stretches your lips into a smile. As soon as you close your eyes as well, however, Wooyoung blinks his eyes open, and it’s his turn to adore the tranquil look on your face. His chest rumbles with the chuckles he’s letting out, and you open your eyes before slightly pulling away to look at him.

“What?” You ask, but Wooyoung only shakes his head with a smile that almost reaches his ears. Then, he inhales a breath of courage before lifting one hand to tuck stray strands of hair behind your ear. His soft gaze lingers momentarily on your lips before it trails up to your nose, and then your eyes. Then, he cups your face again, his fingers sliding against your cheek, the underside of your jaw, and your neck as he lets out a shaky breath. 

You sense the nervousness in his slightly trembling fingers, in his breath, and in the look in his eyes. And so when he couldn’t bring the words to come out of his mouth, as much as he so desperately wants to ask if he can, you begin leaning into his touch. The action alone makes Wooyoung relax, and just as he’s quickly cupping your face with now both of his hands―

“Wooyoooounggg!” 

San’s nearing voice makes you and Wooyoung jump away from each other, fast, that it even makes you both accidentally bump into the people snuggling an arm’s length from behind where you previously stood. After muttering soft apologies to the couples for ruining such a sweet moment— to which they only seem to disregard as they’re too into the mood— you and Wooyoung inhale shaky breaths, stealing awkward glances at each other just as you turn to face the stage again while Wooyoung feels San’s arm wrap around his shoulders. Unconsciously, the overly excited boy jumps around on his spot, shaking Wooyoung’s shoulders just as he turns to San with an expression he fails to read out of drunkenness.

“Wooyoung! Wooyoung, I think I’m finally going to get a girlfriend—”

“San,” Wooyoung deadpans, pursing his lips slightly to convey a contained and restrained look before lowering his voice to whisper, “I think what you’re about to get is a black eye from me.”

“If we want to be able to stick to our itinerary for tomorrow, we all have to wake up on time despite staying up late, so don’t fool around too much and go to bed as soon as you can, please.”

“How about you take your own advice? Don’t stay up too late frolicking—” Wooyoung playfully chirps back, only jolting and backing away a bit when the older male turns around and threatens to run over and get him under his chokehold. But Seonghwa couldn’t afford to ruin his rather blissful night; not when he’d obviously had the time of his life only to have the mood tumbling down because Wooyoung can’t shut up.

It happens a lot though, and at this point it’s even a regular thing that neither of them pay much attention to it. Everyone continues walking lazily, some even moving a little too slowly towards your respective cottages— like you and Wooyoung, who remains a few meters behind. Although he’s not walking right next to you, he takes careful steps, obviously wanting to match your pace as you slowly drag your feet through the sand. 

The familiar cottages come to view, and the others begin racing each other to their rooms. Just as you’re about to run along, Wooyoung grabs a hold of your arm, your name leaving his lips airily.

He licks his lips and heaves a breath, hands slipping into his pockets as you turn to look at him. The air is cold and strong, making you shift closer to your best friend to at least feel his warmth.

“What is it, Woo?”

Throughout the years you’ve known Wooyoung, he’s confident, noisy, (a little?) annoying, and hyperactive. To see him so shy and nervous especially around you is something out of the ordinary, which is why you know something’s really amiss and that it wasn’t just the alcohol talking. Wooyoung’s tongue pokes at his cheek as he begins gently kicking sand to ease the pooling anxiety in his chest.

“About a while ago,” He pauses to gulp, and then there’s silence as he tries to search for his words. When they don’t come, you try to cover it up just in case he regrets speaking about it.

“Oh, don’t get too worked up about it, I’m sure we just got a little carried away.”

You even chuckle a bit after saying it, because you assumed everything that transpired was to be left at that, but Wooyoung’s eyes are glossy as he lifts his gaze from his feet to meet yours.

“You think so?”

You blink, “You don’t?”

Silence.

“I gues… I… Maybe you’re right,” Wooyoung says after a few more seconds of silence, catching his lower lip in between his teeth as he stares into blank space for a bit, right before making eye contact with you― a little bravely this time. “But I just want to let you know that it wasn’t entirely nothing for me.”

There’s silence, again, but it’s because Wooyoung allows you to recuperate for a bit so that you can listen intently to what he’s about to say.

“It’s been going on for a long while now, really, and I think we both know it. This… thing between us, the thing you asked me about a while ago? Yes, I feel it. I really do. And it's driving me crazy because I want to do something about it. I want it. I want—” He sighs, “I want you.”

Heavy breathing. 

“I think I’m crazy for you,” Wooyoung says, the sigh that escapes his lips this time resembling much that of relief; as if some weight is loaded off of his chest and he’d successfully gotten the words he’d longed to say out of his lips. 

“It’s not even because you wore something that’s so different from what you usually wear; it’s not even because I’m a hopeless romantic and I felt so lonely in the sea of couples while a live band sings a ridiculous love song. It’s not because of that stupid makeshift romantic atmosphere that I got carried away.” Wooyoung takes a hesitant step closer to you, but you don’t back away— lost in the sea of emotions in his eyes.

“But from the very start, I’d already thought of you. I already wanted to spend every moment with you and it’s fucking ridiculous because I don’t want to just stand next to you, cheer you on like how best friends do. I want— I want to cheer you on, hug you, and kiss you, and shower you with all the love that I have for you but as somebody more because everyday, I think of you. Of course I do, I’m your best friend, but you’ve been crossing my mind so much these days that it’s driving me crazy— you’ve been staying in my mind like crazy as if it’s your home— and I tell you that I love you everyday but I don’t mean it jokingly or halfheartedly anymore, I don’t feel like you understand my I love yous the way I really, genuinely, sincerely, love you. Yes, it’s that deep, and I know I’m rambling and not making a lot of sense but I’m being as honest as I can, and I just really want to get this off of my chest because there’s no other way I can express it. If not for San, Choi fucking San, maybe I’d be rambling less because we’d either be awkward with each other, I’d be rejected or maybe you’d feel the same, but I’m not saying you should—”

“My god, Jung Wooyoung,” Wooyoung watches you rub your temples using your thumb and middle finger before letting your hand dangle back to your sides. A small quirk is visible at one corner of your lips as you snort at him, saying, “Did somebody ever tell you that you talk too much?”

Wooyoung winces slightly, left eye twitching before he licks his lips and looks around aimlessly. 

“You all do,” He shoves his hands inside his pockets, a hesitant look written across his face as he awkwardly meets your eyes again.

“Well then―” 

“Let me guess,” He sighs, shutting his eyes just as he nods his head in understanding. “I should shut up?”

“Yeah. You should shut up,” A pause, and with his eyes closed, he doesn’t see the grin on your lips that you try to bite back. “And just kiss me.”

Wooyoung’s head snaps up as he whispers a stunned, “What?” that makes you chuckle, and you shrug and sigh just as he looks at you expectantly.

“To cut the drama to the chase, I feel the same way, Woo.” Is how you explain it to him subtly, right before reaching over to punch his chest playfully as you say, “Do you even know how hard it is to get you out of my head—”

Wooyoung takes large steps towards you, ready to dive in to capture your lips into a kiss― just what he’s been a little too slow at doing a little while ago. But just as he’s cupping your jaw with his one hand, the other settled on your waist to pull you close—

“Wooyoung, what’s taking you so long? I want to ramble to you about my— Oh hey, y/n!”

San’s voice almost echoes in the open, and with how he sounds, he’s a little oblivious to what’s about to happen in front of him even when you and Wooyoung are pressed unusually close to each other. And at the sound of his voice— his second interruption for tonight— Wooyoung groans, turning his head to his friend and giving him a wide-eyed look of warning. 

But when San’s brows only raise as a response, Wooyoung decides to hold up a palm to him, telling him to stop and wait for a moment.

The poor stunned boy only becomes twice as stunned as soon as he sees Wooyoung lean in and capture your lips into a kiss, and you’re pretty sure he’s drowning in surprise when you begin to kiss Wooyoung back. As soon as your lips begin moving gently against his, Wooyoung grins into the kiss, and he retracts his hand after hearing San’s silence, knowing he’d successfully taken the hint. 

Little footsteps pad away— which must be San escaping the scene— and it’s either he gets to his cottage, traumatized that he shuts up about it or so shocked he’ll tell the others to come out and see what’s happening. But without much care about whatever San might do, Wooyoung lifts a hand to cup your jaw instead, tilting his head to kiss you again, the kiss deepening even in the midst of small laughter and clashing teeth and swollen lips.

You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing for, but you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

Wooyoung’s lips are like soft cushions that press ever-so-gently yet passionately against yours— way better than how you’d imagined it, that it makes you melt under his touch. He smiles into the kiss again, making a smile appear on your lips as well, and you laugh and kiss and then laugh again, until your noses are gently nuzzling against each other and your lips are hovering above each other’s mouths.

“Fuck, you really make me go crazy, do you know that?” Wooyoung mumbles against your lips, his eyes producing a faint glimmer of what anybody could only recognize as love. You slide your hands from the back of his neck, down to his shoulders, then to his chest, and you feel the terrible pounding of his heart atop his clothed chest. Chuckling, you sneak a soft kiss on his lips again just before pulling away slightly to place your forehead against his.

“Just one touch and I already know it’s true, Woo. If that's what you're worried about, just know that I'm crazy for you, too.” Cocking your head to the side, it's Wooyoung's turn to feel flustered. “Hard not to be when you're this sexy.”

“Oh you—”

Hongjoong's voice rips through the air. “Fuck inside your room, not out there, for goodness sake!”

KIA'S NOTE: another repost from my old acc! i want to know what you think, lmk through my asks or through the tags! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Lover Of The Seven Kingdoms (Tywin x Reader)

First of all, I’m sorry but you cannot tell me anything when it comes to Tom hiddleston being the perfect young Tywin Lannister. Second, I love writing morally grey female characters and I wrote grant maester pycelle and mushroom in cause I wanted to show how a lot of male historians portray women in one way cause it’s just easier.

The lover of the seven Kingdoms” grant maester Pycelle had used as a description of (y/n) Martell, the second wife of Tywin Lannister, the symbol of femininity for a plethora of men in kings Landing, the mother of lord Ezra Lannister and lady Asena, the scandalous twins and one of the few bastards that later became legitimate and inherited Lannisport, then they had three more, lady Nymeria, Lady Zara and Lord Sorin, (y/n) was the secret passion of Tywin since she stepped foot at court, she was to be Joanna’s lady in waiting.

Her appearance was one carved by the Gods, long dark raven hair that curled down to her waist, olive skin, and almost black eyes, her lips thick, and a body as juicy as the fruits of her land, her twin brother Dorian had sent her to Kings landing as a way to show respect and also expand her horizons.

“Princess (Y/n) had relations with one of the bastards of house Dayne when she denied him the man gutted himself in front of her, Doran sends her away to avoid more scandals caused by her lustful appetite”

Mushroom note, Joanna liked her, she was smart and endearing, and she knew how to play her part, however, what Joanna had not taken in mind is that (y/n) stopped at nothing to get what she wants, in this case, it was the young Tywin Lannister, the tall man with muscles everywhere, blue eyes and blonde hair was the subject of desire for a plethora of ladies, none of them had the guts to go after him, (y/n) was not like them, she had her eyes set and the game had begun.

“My lord”

(Y/n) called for Tywin, the hour was quite late but Tywin was the hand of the king, the hour did not matter when they were things he needed to pay attention to, papers to be signed and payments to be settled.

(Y/n) had studied his schedule, Joanna was already in bed and Tywin was free, most of the servants were dismissed so they were no prowling eyes to catch her.

Tywin halted and turned to look at the girl that called for him, she wore a rather sheer dress which was unlikely of hers, Dornish people were always costumed to very light choices in clothing, still, this was a step further, if the candles burned a bit brighter Tywin would have been able to see… well everything.

“Princess (y/n), is there something wrong?”

“No, not exactly, I was hoping to talk to you, in private”

Tywin hesitated, (y/n) was just outside her chamber, she was holding the door open which meant that her choice of privacy was her room, still, curiosity about what it could be that needed to be discussed in such a secretive way was enough for his feet to go one and then the other inside.

(Y/n) closed the door before she spun to rest her back on the wood, a smirk playing on her lips as her plan was going smoother than she expected, the room was decorated in cherry red and gold colors, some orange as well and the intense smell of vanilla and musk took over Tywins senses.

“So, I would prefer it if you started talking”

“Do you like being the hand of the king?”

“You summoned me to ask me if you like my occupation?”

“No, I summoned you because I have a pair of eyes, eyes clear enough to see that something has been bothering you”

“Well I am flattered that the princess cares to ask for my well-being, however, I must go”

“You can’t lie to me Tywin, if it’s not your duty then it has something to do with me, you have been avoiding me, you can’t even look me in the eye”

Tywin once again chose to not speak he only made a b line for the door to which (y/n) was resting, she had managed to think of everything down to reaching for the handle when he did, making their hands touch, Tywin did not pull his away, he let it rest on top of hers as he towered over her and she looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Is it me, my lord? It is my presence that is bothering you?”

“No”

“No? You are breathing quite heavily, your eyes travel below my lips, and… dare I say you could have moved me if you truly wanted to, no one is here, my lord, you can confess to me”

“(Y/n)-“

“Go on, confess”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she gawked at Tywin with lustful eyes with a hint of innocence, she had done this before, Tywin was a mere puppet, a bug that got caught in the spiders' web and was now waiting to experience her poisonous bite.

Her kiss could be described as venom, it made his entire body feel like it was burning and her touch was the only remedy, his addiction started and ended with her, he had been fantasizing about her every night, haunting him like a succubus and stealing the life out of him, at an instant he forgot everything, his wife, his status, his entire life would crumble if someone were to find them, none of it mattered, all that he cared about was to see her, take her.

He took her right on her window, some servants had even reported that they could see the young princess bareback as her moans grew some attention, alas none of them thought something of it, most of the castle had seen a generous amount of men go in and out of (y/n)s chamber at all hours of the night.

Tywin was in utter awe with (y/n), he almost felt like he would faint as he reached his high, it was the only time Tywin considered that (y/n) was a practitioner of dark magic. No other woman had held such power over him in this act.

“My lion”

She had whispered in his ear before she kissed him,(Y/n) was the perfect lover, every night he would slip from his chamber and knock on her door, she would be waiting for him, take him up to the sky, and wrap him with her fire that burned as bright as dragon fire.

Tywin was entirely himself around her, she allowed him to be in control and gave him the euphoric theatrics of prowling on her, which made (y/n) giggle a little, it was refreshing and borderline hilarious to move the strings in the background while Tywin thought he was moving them only because she let him touch them.

“I have exciting news”

“Which is?”

“Princess (y/n) is pregnant, how lovely would it be if we get to marry our children? We could secure Dorne and bind my friendship with her”

“We will do no such thing”

“Tywin, think about it if we-“

“You are forgetting an important thing Joanna, the princess is not married, who knows who the father of that bastard is, my child will not marry anyone of such low status”

What else could he have said? We can’t marry them cause they are siblings? Joanna would be crushed, Tywin had run to her chamber that night, not even bothering to knock as he burst into the room startling her, still once she laid her eyes on him she smiled, she dared to smile as if nothing has happened.

“How dare you announce your pregnancy without even telling me first”

“I thought you had noticed”

“No, I hadn’t and Joanna wants to marry your child with one of our children”

“I am sure we will find a way around it”

“Find a way around it? How are you so calm when the world is crumbling on your feet? You are not married nor betrothed, this child will be declared a bastard”

“This child will be my firstborn, a child created by you and me if you remember, that is all that matters to me”

“Not to the rest of the realm”

“I do not care about the rest of the realm Tywin, that is your problem, it will be royalty in Dorne, I do not care what they call my child here”

“Some said she bathed in goats blood every full moon, she would burn candles and speak in foreign languages to make Tywin stay by her side”

Mushroom claimed, it could be true or just whispers since no one understood the powerful hold that she had on the young lord, Tywin was a fearsome man, calculated and ambitious, yet (y/n) could sway him in any direction she wished with a bat of an eyelash.

It was such a peculiar moment, (y/n) gave birth to twins four moons after her lady Joanna, Ezra and Asena, both of them had their fathers' eyes, sapphires that shined in the light of the sun as (y/n) fed them from her breasts, Tywin had held Asena first, she looked nothing like Cersei still something in him knew that the two girls were born to be each others nemesis, fate had played him like a fiddle.

“I was thinking of going back to Dorne”

“Why?”

“My brother said it is not safe for us, people will talk and I do not want my children to grow up in a venomous environment”

“No, no you will stay, Ezra and Asena Hill has a nice ring to it”

“They are Martells, my love, they shall be called that”

(Y/n) was not ashamed of her children, on the contrary, she adored them and kept them by her side at all times, she taught them how to walk, talk, sing, and dance, a endearing mother with a backbone made of Valyrian steel, a combination made straight out of the seven rings of hell.

“Push, my lady”

“I can’t, (y/n) please make it stop”

“Maester, what is taking so long?”

“The babe has breached, it will not let me pull it out”

“It hurts (y/n)”

“I know, my lady, just one more push”

Joanna fought tooth and nail to survive, unfortunately, her labor did not harvest any fruit for her, the son survived but Lady Joanna did not even get to hold him, grant Maester pycelle held Tyrion and presented him to lord Tywin who was utterly disgusted by the ugly creature.

“That is no son of mine, throw him in the river”

“You will do no such thing”

“This matter does not concern you, princess”

“It does, you may be excused maester”

Pycelle only nodded and left them alone, a strange aura surrounded both of them, Joanna was gone, a deformed babe had taken her life, and (y/n)s belly was ready to pop any minute, what was to be done now?

“Does cruelty excite you?”

“Cersei and Jaime are both healthy and Lannister featured, that… thing could not have been created by me”

“It was not the babes' fault, so I have to remind you that you are also guilty of the thing you are accusing a dead woman of?”

Tywin was a man but that meant little to nothing, if Tyrion was a bastard then there was no difference between him and (y/n)s children, Tywin was in no place to frown upon such an act since he was having another child on the way, a bastard.

“Listen to me, my love, I know you loved Joanna and I loved her too, but the babe survived, it’s the last thing we have from her, grief is a strong emotion, but we have each other to lean on, don’t you want this for us Tywin? for me?”

There it was, her secret weapon, that sweet voice that dripped of honey and the big doe eyes, she knew how to play the damsel in distress down to every detail, Tywin put his lips in before he shook his head in defeat, his wife had departed but his mistress stood before him, demanding a place at his table and life, which he was willing to give her.

-

Cersei was frantic, the announcement of her father's betrothal to the princess (y/n) and the reaffirmation of her bastard children had brought her to an utmost stage of rage that she was going around her room like a hurricane, she was throwing things and cursing as loud as her lungs allowed it.

How could he do this to her? To her family? That woman had slithered her way into their life like a snake and was now feasting over her mother's dead body, this was just plain disrespectful to her mother.

Tywin found Cerseis handmaidens outside her chamber as the sounds that came from it could put to shame any wild animal, the ladies looked frightened and not one of them dared to go in, however, all of them tried to warn him in leaving the lady be, suggesting that this has probably happened before.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get out”

“Young lady I advise you-“

“Shut up! I don’t want to listen to you! How could you marry her?! How could you do this to my mother?”

That was the last thing she said before a harsh slap landed on Cerseis's cheek, the girl was taken back by the act since her father had never hit her, he would discipline her but mostly by raising his voice or finding peculiar tricks of punishment, for Tywin to get physical with his daughter meant that she had gone too far.

“You do not get to judge my decisions, you will welcome your brother and sisters and you will be nice to my wife whether you like it or not, did I make myself clear?”

Silence only looks that could kill were exchanged

“Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes Father”

“My love?”

(Y/n) walked into the room, she had heard everything although she chose to reside in the act of being clueless, Tywin had turned away from his daughter and walked to his soon-to-be wife’s side, his hand found hers and brought it up to his lips, (y/n) smiled fondly before she scanned the room with her eyes, a puzzled look on her face as the room was upside down.

“What has happened? Is the young lady alright? The handmaidens were stuttering when I asked about the noises”

“Yes, no need to worry, my dear, Cersei was just redecorating”

“Oh, well if she wishes I can help with that”

“No, no, Cersei is quite specific, she prefers doing things her way, hence this scenery, we should live her”

“As the young lioness wishes, but before we leave”

(Y/n) took a few steps so she can stand ahead of Cersei, Cersei truly felt like a lioness, one that was trapped in a cage to be exact, as much as Cersei wanted to believe she could outsmart anyone (y/n) had years up on the horse, so naturally she was now trotting past Cersei with her caring smile and eyes that lit up, Cersei was left to looking like a kid that threw a tantrum whilst (y/n) looked like a mother that did her best to keep the peace.

“I know you are angry at me, I would be too, I will not try to be your mother, I do however hope that one day you will view me as your ally or your friend even”

(Y/n) went to caress Cerseis cheek which Cersei flinched away from that earned her a cold hard stare from her father, (y/n) only bit her lip in defeat, then it was replaced by a smile of hope, (y/n) genuinely wanted things to go as smooth as possible, to keep all of Joanna's children close to her, it was the least she could do she wasn’t a complete monster, as much as Cersei liked to think of her as one.

“Perhaps it’s too soon, I am asking way too much of you, I hope you have a great day, sweetling”

“Put everything back in its place, now”

Tywin instructed in a stern voice before they exited the chamber that Hurricane Cersei was occupying, Tywin was sure that she would throw something at the door once it was closed and he stood correct when a loud bang was heard.

“She is a young girl that lost her mother, having an attitude with me is inevitable”

“Cersei is not a normal young girl, she has a superiority complex over everyone, our children will not interact with her yet”

“That won’t be a problem, Asena is not… fond of Cersei either”

“I wonder why, let us not think of Cersei right now, it is time for Nymeria to be fed”

“See how beautiful it sounds when it rolls off the tongue? And you wanted to name her Lydia”

Since this babe was the first legitimate child of Tywin and (y/n) he had the suggestion of picking the name of the beloved girl, on the contrary (y/n) was not budging, she was adamant on naming her daughter after the biggest warrior queen Dorne has ever known, her precious Nymeria.

“The princess never wanted to marry lord Tywin, she was far more interested in keeping their relationship private, howbeit Lord Tywin was too consumed by his emotions for her to consider the fact that the princess could have been wed, she simply chose not to”

Grant maester Pycelle added when asked about their wedding. (Y/n) did not care about her children being legitimate or owning land, Dorne was her home, her brother had congratulated her on the birth of her twins and even offered to have them in Dorne, and her family was delighted by (y/n) bringing forth new heirs for the Martells, it was only Tywin that wanted to make it official, to let everyone know that the princess was now cloaked by the lion, her life as the lady of the rock had begun and Dorne had entered a land that they never really thought of earning.

“In a day you will be my wife, therefore, my children’s good mother, I expect them to treat you as such”

“I do not, Tywin they are in mourning, you cannot expect them to make it easy for me”

“I am not dimly witted my dearest, I know they will have some thoughts over our marriage, albeit I will make sure they keep it to themselves”

Requests are open!

[emilybahu]

Buck coming out to Maddie:

Just kinda pure chaos, total sibling energy, as it should be, he’s talking about his date with her and about how it went horribly awry…

Maddie immediately assumes that Buck was on a date with a married woman!? Like ok, but WHY THOUGH?

Then Buck says “he left me outside the restaurant”, and Maddie’s like “hold up…back this up a second, let’s go back to the pronoun” because Buck kept leaving out that he was on his first date with a man (Tommy).

Buck being like “yeah, ok I was on a date with a guy, but that’s not the point” HOW IS IT NOT THE POINT EVAN! Then Maddie starts to get why Buck is so worried about lying to Eddie.

Buck bringing up that he’s an ally again and Maddie saying “so now, you’re more than an ally”. Which is exactly what we all yelled at the screen the first time we saw the date scene, because it’s true! (Like come on now Buck! You kissed the guy!)

And of course this moment:

And I’m sure this had us all laughing our heads off, because no Evan it is not normal straight male behavior to “check out a hot guy’s ass”! 🤣

Sir, are you openly admitting to possibly checking out your best friend’s ass at some point, because I think he definitely counts as a hot guy and he definitely has a cute butt! 🫠🤭

I digress… after the second shock of her morning of learning that Buck had a date with Tommy, (the same Tommy he was complaining about to Maddie only a couple days ago)…

The scene, of course, ends off with Maddie being the wonderful, supportive QUEEN of an older sister she is and tells Buck to tell her everything about the “hot pilot”. l love them so much!

And Buck gets all smiley and shy and adorable because he really likes Tommy! 😊

Buck coming out to Eddie:

Then we have this scene, and I feel like it’s the complete opposite from how he came out to Maddie…

Eddie is over at Buck’s place trying to avoid his girlfriend and his catholic guilt and doesn’t know what to do about it.

Eddie says, that Buck and Tommy got the right idea of just hanging out (guys being dudes), he however, is completely oblivious of the (dudes being gay/bi) part of their plans.

(Please tell me you know what I’m referencing in the red text)

Buck somehow manages (in a much smoother way than how he told Maddie) to tell Eddie that when he ran into them at the restaurant that they were actually on a date!

I think that the first thing Eddie said was “wait, Tommy’s gay?” Like he’s shocked about Tommy, but not Buck?

(I suppose though, it makes sense that Eddie and Tommy didn’t talk about their sexuality when they hung out, like it’s not necessarily something that needs to be brought up purposefully. It shouldn’t matter anyways. If Tommy felt like it would have effected their friendship he probably would have said something…)

Clearly, Eddie’s totally fine with that and goes on to reassure Buck that nothing will change between them. As we can see a few seconds later when Eddie teases Buck a little after hearing he basically got dumped halfway through the date.

And of course that brings us to these wonderful moments:

Eddie being a supportive KING! We love that for him! And of course Buck and Eddie, the sensitive, vulnerable guys they are now start to have a nice little heart to heart chat about Buck’s feelings for Tommy.

Buck says “I kinda can’t stop thinking about him”and gets all smiley and shy and adorable again because he really likes Tommy! 😊

We get Eddie telling Buck to call Tommy because there’s no way that once Tommy actually gets to know Buck that he won’t love him like the rest of the team! Also talking some sense into himself along the way…

And the hug! It’s my life, it’s my everything!

(other than Buck and Tommy being super adorable and holding hands at the end of the episode, anyway…)

Just this whole scene between Buck and Eddie was so warm and soft and loving… but like this hug was just so beautiful, chefs kiss. The way Eddie turned as he was about to leave and just thought ‘I can’t leave without giving Buck a hug’ I CAN’T!

They love and care about each other so much you can see it in how they look at each other, they’ve been through so much together their friendship is amazing and beautiful and I love it so much!

Who knows what could happen in the future with Buddie… maybe they become romantically involved, maybe they don’t. I don’t care as long as we get more moments like this between them in the future!

The situation they find themselves in at the end of the episode though… well I guess we’ll be waiting until May 2nd to find out what exactly happened there… 🫠

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter Two

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3,7k

Warnings | +18, explicit language, kidnapping, yandere, mentions of prostitution, Jimin is really a bastard, harassments, threats with a gun, forced vaginal inspection, humiliation and teasing, light blood consumption, virgin girls are sold, forced separation

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! The second chapter of Dark Moon has arrived, thank you for all the compliments and support ❤

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

When Y/N regained consciousness she felt her head spin and something go up her stomach, she was nauseous as well as very cold, even her leg did not seem to be in optimal condition. A white light filtered past her eyelashes, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut before groaning, trying, in vain, to move. She turned wearily on her side, realizing only then that she was lying on an icy floor. "The mare has awakened," said a voice with a deep cadence. The girl tried wearily to at least get on her knees, but failed to do so; her head was assailed by memories of a few hours ago, they were confused, but one thing she distinctly remembered. A face. A male face full of piercings, of cruel extraordinary beauty. "You better not move a step, you have a gun pointed at your head, baby doll," said another voice, higher and smoother. As her eyes adjusted to the light she focused on the gun in question, clutched in the gloved hand of the same man she remembered. His face was as beautiful as a god's, he had piercings on his lower lip, as well as on his eyebrow and all along the side line of his neck, stretching all the way under his leather coat. His dark hair, on the other hand, was combed so that his forehead was left uncovered, his amphibians also stood tall and menacing, just like the rest of him.

He held that gun with monstrous ease, his stoic expression telling her that he would not think twice about shooting her if he had to. She licked her lips, finding them dry and cracked, before she began to speak. "What do you want from me? I have nothing to interest you," she said in a scratchy voice, hugging her legs in a vain attempt to shield herself from his eyes. "You are quite wrong, dear," the other stepped forward, he was taller than the man with the piercings and his hair was silver, yet the hardness of his eyes was the same, "You have made a request and we are here to fulfill it." The young woman frowned, before the realization finally came. "Now you remember, right? You asked to work for us, in fact ... you both asked." The young woman widened her eyes and immediately remembered her younger sister, looked around in panic noticing the smaller body far away from her. She tried to get up to reach her, but the sound of a trigger froze her. "I told you not to take a step, I might blow your leg off, but that would not please my boss, so let's avoid giving each other trouble," huffed the dark-haired man, he was ruthless. She began to tremble, realizing the trouble she and her sister had gotten themselves into.

They had applied to work everywhere from small bars to supermarkets, not leaving out discos and more domestic jobs. But there was no work, or the pay was starvation. Finally she had made the leap, finding herself applying for jobs in a variety of red-light clubs, and before she could say or do anything, her sister had also followed suit, but she didn't think it would end like that for them. "We never received any recruitment letters or emails, so what are you talking about?" she hissed through clenched teeth. The taller one looked at her sideways, "The Dark Moon is not used to hiring the way you imagine, sweetheart...to fit into its standards you have to possess certain qualities and you two have all of them." If possible that answer left her even more confused, the dark-haired man with the piercings huffed, "Boobs and three holes to fill are not enough, once you enter the Dark Moon you never leave, those who "win" our attention do so because they live far away from their family and with a low lifestyle," he explained vulgarly, heedless of the increasingly evident pallor on the young woman's face. Everything was clear now, one of the brothels to which she had sent her application was much more than that, there was a highly illegal prostitution ring behind it, involving the total disappearance of girls from the rest of the world. The menacing appearance of the two men spoke volumes.

What had they gotten themselves into? "Wait a minute, ours was a request made without thinking" she tried to negotiate, but the grin on the pierced boy's face grew. Jimin was amused, did the poor deluded woman really believe that there was any way back? He shook his head, "Without thinking? You ran away from home because of an abusive family, dropping out of school and cleaning here and there to earn enough to afford a low Motel in the lowest neighborhood in town...it doesn't seem to me that you applied without thinking, in fact, it was desperation that convinced you and you even got bingo," he chuckled nastily. The girl cashed the blow, bending over herself; there was no remedy. She had been kidnapped and a madman was pointing a gun at her with impressive ease, the other man would probably hurt her sister if she decided to challenge them. She felt like crying, but she pushed back her tears; she would not let them see her whimpering like a child. After a few seconds a choked sigh was heard, Y/N opened her eyes again with fear. She turned toward her sister, who terrified looked at her with a lost and confused look. "What...? Y/N, what's going on?" she asked with some difficulty due to the drug used on her.

"Blair, stay there!" she exclaimed, but her sister tried to get up anyway, and the taller guy had to intervene, pushing the younger one against the concrete wall without any kindness, pulled the gun out of his jacket, and Y/N felt herself dying, yelled at him to leave her alone, pushing herself toward them, but a heavy kick to the leg stopped her actions. She groaned in pain, staring at the piercing guy's boot pressing right against her thigh, there where a purplish bruise had already taken shape from the violent sting. "Ha-ha! You're such a naughty little girl, you know? Lucky for you that wasn't a step, because otherwise I would have had to use this," he said in a childish tone, teasing her by moving the barrel of his gun left and right. Y/N swallowed hard, chewing between her teeth the pain she so badly wanted to vent, that boy was scary to her, there was a veil of madness behind his dark eyes. She did not want to find out how far she could push him, that madness. Namjoon, on the other hand, went no further with her sister, just put her back in her place. She resumed breathing as the man moved away from her, but a knock on the door made her stomach flip over. The two men exchanged a brief glance; it was Jimin who opened it without lowering his gun.

Y/N saw three other men enter the building, one of whom towered prominently over the others. He wore a gorgeous fur coat over his smoking, and his incredibly handsome face was obscured by an apathetic expression. The other two, on the other hand, were dressed quite similarly to those who had taken her hostage; they, too, were beautiful and surreally dangerous. "Are there only two of them?" the man in the fur coat asked, pointing at her and her sister. "They are the only ones who passed all the requirements, they are also quite pretty, Jin," shrugged the man the girl had labeled "The Tall One." The Jin in question squared them carefully, Y/N felt naked under his gaze and wished she could hug her sister to protect her from them, but she could not. She would be of no use to her dead. "What are their names?" "Byeon Y/N and Byeon Blair, they are sisters, they used this surname in the application, definitely not the right one...as you can see, they are not Korean." "Good job, Namjoon... As for their status?"

The girl didn't know how they could know all that, because it was true, they had changed their last name so that they didn't have to be related to their father and his family, but what made her cringe was the word "status," underlined in a strange way. The one she seemed to understand was called Namjoon remained silent a few seconds, then shook his head, "We haven't checked." "No problem, we'll do it now," he moved a finger toward the other two, "Taehyung, Hoseok," he said, but the pierced boy got in the way. "Leave this one to me," he said, intriguing Seokjin. "Why, Jimin? You usually avoid by saying it's too hard to handle them." Now she knew the name of that devil, but still not understanding what they intended to check, something told her she would not like to find out, she exchanged a glance with her sister. She saw her as frightened as she had ever been in her life, and it certainly should not have helped to see her, her older sister, in the same condition, so she tried to calm her expression, though with little result. "I have a score to settle with her," she said earnestly, it was then that Y/N remembered the kick thrown at the man's face in her fury to escape him, but she couldn't see any bruises so it must not have hurt him that much, right? The other nodded, "All right."

Next she saw the man named Hoseok heading toward her sister, who pushed herself against the wall trying to escape, but she was surrounded by men with guns and could do nothing. Y/N sprinted toward her, but Jimin was quick to grab her by the collar of her shirt. "Be still and quiet, behave yourself and it will only last a few seconds." But she did not understand, what would last only a few seconds? She blanched at the younger one's shocked screams, turned quickly toward her, and what she saw left her bewildered. The red-haired man, Hoseok, was holding Blair's body crushed to the ground while he did something with his hand under the fabric of her shorts, the insight made her shudder and she threw herself at her once more, heedless of Jimin's firm grip, who gritted his teeth at such stupidity. "What the fuck are you doing to her, you bastard! Let her go immediately, before I kill you!" she snarled bright-eyed, aware that as her sister kicked trying to get the man off her, she could only watch with no chance to react. A laugh behind her back made her skin crawl. "He's doing just that to her," she heard him say, before she was pinned to the wall hard, missing her breath for a few moments, time for Jimin to imprison her wrists in one of his hands, reaching with the other to the fabric of her underpants, which he went over, ending right under her panties.

In horror the girl felt the fingers still wrapped in the leather glove tracing her folds and without any care penetrating her tight slit, she cried out in pain and shock, the fingers went all the way, finding nothing to stop them, but Jimin wanted to provoke her a little. "You're so dry that if I continued you would bleed, wouldn't you? Like a virgin, too bad you're not," he whispered in her ear. The young woman, red with shame, overcame her shock and tried to kick him in the groin where an obvious bulge was taking shape, but Jimin ducked in time, stared at her with icy eyes before stepping firmly out of her intimacy, causing her another painful twinge. He let her fall back to the ground observing his fingers, only a few drops glistened on their surface, nothing striking. "She's tight as hell, but she's not a virgin," he communicated to the others in an impassive voice. Hoseok turned away from the youngest, who cowered in shock. "With this one I stopped pretty much right away, she's a virgin," he showed everyone a few drops of blood present on his fingers before licking them.

No one commented on that gesture, as if it was normal for them, Y/N just felt like throwing up, she clenched her legs trying to calm the burning that the bastard had intentionally caused her, god... if they were on equal terms she would have destroyed him. Seokjin nodded, "We'll make a lot of money with that one, I already have an interested customer." Y/N widened her eyes, rising up sharply. "At least let my sister go! She is young and unfit for such a life!" she exclaimed, staring into the eyes of what appeared to be the boss. Taehyung laughed, "Then why did she apply for such a job? Besides, what would she be different from you, is she a princess or something? Come on, we are fair and consistent people we, it wouldn't be fair to you," he teased her, ignoring Blair's sobs, still hunched over herself because of the pain she was feeling. Hoseok did not seem to have gone easy on her, as he had said. "Miss Byeon, the Dark Moon is a place that lives in anonymity, our clients are important people who want to spend moments of pleasure in complete relaxation, I can't afford outside witnesses other than my men, that's exactly why we only pick up girls like you," he began to explain calmly, "Beautiful, but desperate, I offer them protection and comfort, as long as they abide by my rules." Simply put, 'You know too much, and since you've been brought in, you will do as I say'.

Y/N felt lost, there was no turning back, she would be a whore without freedom until the end of her days, and her sister would follow her freewheeling. At that point, with another needle stuck in her flesh, tears flowed copiously without her being able to do anything to stop them.

Y/N regained consciousness in what was no longer a dingy warehouse, but lying on a soft bed with silk and velvet blankets. Smelling of essential oils and wearing a satin blouse, she widened her eyes, turning around. Next to her a girl was arranging some things in the sliding door closet. She was not paying attention to her. "I-where am I?" she asked in a low voice, the girl blocked her actions, then turned to her, glowering at her. "You should know, shouldn't you? You asked to work here yourself," she arrowed, Y/N looked at her shocked. Why had the woman answered her in that rude way? "I don't think I did anything to you to deserve such an attitude," she said in fact, the other rolled her eyes. "You newcomers are all like that, all naive holier-than-thou. You're at the Dark Moon, girl! Place of pleasure and sin, where you will open your legs without a single complaint and I recommend it for your own good," she blurted out, made to leave without adding more, but Y/N stopped her. "My sister! Have you seen my sister?" she ignored the scurvy attitude of that girl as beautiful as she was rude to ask about the younger one, the other looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, yes...when you arrived they just asked me to get you ready for the room, but I heard about the other one.... She was a virgin, virgins are always sold and never stay at the Dark Moon.... so it was your sister, huh? I'm sorry," she sneered, before leaving the room. The world came crashing down on her, her sister was not there with her, she had been sold without ifs and buts, they had not even given her a chance to see her one last time. She clutched her chest, trapped in a painful grip, and let herself fall on the bed without energy, she merely sobbed for what seemed like hours. She had definitely lost her entire family and there was absolutely nothing she could do to change that. She was gone, Blair was no longer with her, and she would spend the rest of her life spreading her legs for any man with a sizeable bank account. With tears still clinging between her eyelashes she saw the door open once more, revealing the slender figure of another girl, wrapped in a pattern similar to her blouse, but much darker. "Hey. You're the newcomer, aren't you? Nice to meet you, my name is Hanon," she said jovially, waving her hand, Y/N remained impassive, too exhausted and bitter to be in the same mood as her.

"Y/N..." she mumbled back, shutting herself up. The woman was not impressed by that closed attitude; on the contrary, she found herself smiling more. That girl reminded her of herself at first. Almost no one wanted to end up trapped at the Dark Moon, but getting used to it wasn't so bad. They had food and beautiful clothes, as well as a roof over their heads. "Well, hello Y/N! Welcome to the Dark Moon, I was asked to show you around a bit," Hanon said cheerfully, Y/N instantly glowered at her. She didn't want to take the prostitute prison tour, she wanted to go back to the horrid old Motel with her sister, better poor than divided and slutty. "I don't care for that, thank you," she replied through gritted teeth. If possible Hanon's smile grew bigger, a strange light shone in her eyes. "Oh, believe me ... it's in your best interests to listen to me, Seokjin here is the boss and his word is law, if you don't do as he says you'll end up bathing in the icy waters of the Han River, with no chance of rising" from the satisfied voice Y/N guessed that it had already happened and that Hanon was probably someone quite important among the girls, he believed she had power over all of them, that's why she smiled like that. Without uttering another word, Y/N got out of bed, found some bedroom shoes placed neatly on the polished wooden floor, and putting them on followed the other woman.

Hanon showed her several rooms, numbered and with a key inside each shiny, well-oiled lock; almost all the rooms were the same, except for a few cases of far more luxurious suites suitable for clients quite important to the boss of the "shack." Hanon explained to her that the one where she was a few moments earlier was her personal room, no one had the right to enter there, and that every client had one of those other rooms rented for a set amount of time that varied from the fee paid for each type of service requested. Y/N felt disgust and nausea with each piece of information she learned, the customer paid and they automatically had to obey him. Hanon finally showed her their relaxation room; it was a large greenhouse where one could play freely and grow flowers and plants of all kinds. That was perhaps the only area Y/N would appreciate, she told herself. "From this corridor instead you get to the kitchens and the dining room, instead to ask for any kind of information you can ask me, if I will not be available go ahead to Namjoon's office, I will show you where it is" at that name the young woman felt sick. She remembered the silver-haired man, she had no idea he personally worked at the Dark Moon. "Namjoon?" she swallowed, Hanon stared at her for a moment confused by her sudden pallor, then understood. "So this time it was his turn, I guess it went well for you then, he is very kind to girls and-"

"Namjoon kidnapped my sister," she said harshly, "He was not kind to do such a thing, much less his friend with piercings all over his face, who was simply an animal with me," she growled. Hanon winced, he could tell she was talking about Jimin from the description-he was the only one of the men in Seokjin who had piercings all over his face, not to mention his neck. Those seven were divided into distinct and separate personalities, and Hanon knew for sure that the worst were Jimin and Hoseok themselves. "All right, for any doubts ask me, then," then she remembered something important, "Oh, I almost forgot the most essential thing! In case you need help during a session with your client, on the bedside table next to the bed there is a white phone, it has a unique number and communicates with the bodyguards, if you will be in trouble don't hesitate for a moment to call" she explained seriously. A shiver ran down the young woman's spine, she had not yet thought of such a possibility, she believed that with clients of a certain caliber something dangerous could not happen, evidently she was mistaken. When she was escorted back to her room, Y/N stopped Hanon. "Um... Hanon?" "Yes?"

"Before you came, there was a girl in the room with me, she was very rude and I would like to know why, I'm new and didn't give any trouble...I wish I could at least live peacefully here, though I doubt it." Hanon weighed the words well, but decided to be honest. "I told you we have personal rooms, but not as much as they are..." Y/N widened her eyes, "Your room belonged to Ester, the girl you met." "What... Why did you give me her room?" she asked wordlessly, Hanon shrugged her shoulders. "Well, only five other girls have the room like yours, these girls are selected by Seokjin's most trusted men because they are their favorites, and you are now one of them, indeed, of us." If possible, Y/N found herself more confused than before-what was Hanon getting at? The latter sighed, "Ester was Jimin's favorite, but I don't know how...now you're the one who will share a bed with him if he decides to stay here from time to time, when he arrived he didn't think twice about sending her away to give way to you, I think you intrigued him and quite a bit too." Y/N found herself staggering back, everything simply had to be an absurd and horrible joke, should she have shared a bed with such a beast? The disgust did not leave her for a moment longer.

[snuggleboots]

Akatsuki parents? Akatsuki parents.

because I like shoehorning my experiences into my ninja bullshit. Hope y'all enjoy my rambling. : )

Feat. Hidan, Kakuzu, Kisame, Itachi.

Hidan ends up a girl-dad, and a proud one at that, given your daughter is a complete fucking gremlin, just like him. An aggressive toddler that looks like a tiny little sweetheart, with chubby cheeks, gorgeous violet eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you'd ever seen, and hair that looks like a carbon copy of your own. Her little smiles are a mixed bag, and you never know whether to expect cute baby affection or chaos that no toddler her size should realistically be capable of bringing into existence.

Nobody expects it when she toddles on up, all tiny, squishy hands and 'awwww, hug?'s, only to turn on a dime and start biting, smacking, or pinching- all while wearing a huge grin that she must have inherited from her dad, or giggling like a squeaky hinge. Babysitters do not last, Hidan finds absolutely nothing more hilarious than seeing another one leave haggard and never pick up jobs from either of you again.

She's a natural climber, knows no fear, and loves nothing more than climbing up onto the back of the couch and waiting. 'Oh no, 'M stuck!' is a goddamn trap. It took a couple pint-sized ambushes, wherein she lunges, catches some serious air, and rams into you or Hidan at full force to learn that lesson. Your natural state becomes STRESSED. Hidan, on the other hand? Constantly entertained. That little girl can do literally no wrong, because, shit, she's just emulating her dad, obviously.

If it's possible for a toddler to be sarcastic, she is, and it's only ever when she's using her manners. One tiny little eyebrow cocked, a crooked smile and cooed, 'Oh, nooo. So-orry!' Hidan has literally cried from laughing so hard, until she turned it on him. One big, angry bitemark on his forearm later, and those tittering giggles and 'Uh-oh, you o'tay? Uh-oh!' felt just a little more irritating than when they were directed towards you. He's even less impressed when you're laughing right alongside your little devil-child.

Older kids tried, once, to pick on the little girl who laughed too loud and played too hard. Unfortunately for them, she's always had a set of lungs and knew damn well how to use them. One blood-chilling shriek- not because she's hurt, but because she knew he'd hear, and haha, there's dad. Big, fat crocodile tears, a quivering pout and squeaky, 'Oh, no!' and it was game on.

Hidan doesn't give a fuck how old a snot-nosed shithead might be, his bullying is indiscriminate and he's had far longer to refine his insults than they have. She's rarely bullied, because word spreads and it's hard for a kid to bounce back from such heated and targeted shit-talk, even harder to bounce back when they watch some whooping, laughing maniac beat the shit out of their dad for trying to step in. You were only slightly surprised, and a little concerned when your little gremlin laughed and squealed over the playground dad on dad beatdown.

Deidara drops by from time to time, and he seems to have as much fun wrangling your tiny little hellion as Hidan does. He doesn't mind the fact that she can be aggressively playful, and takes absolute delight in the way her eyes go wide and shine with awe when he shows off his art. She's fascinated by his hair, and you find some remarkable moments of quiet and peace when she's perched on the couch with him on the floor, her chubby fingers toying with and carding through the golden mane that's somehow smoother and shinier than silk. If he minds the fact that she essentially pets him like a cat, he certainly doesn't mention it. 'Awww! So sof', so sof'.' Between Deidara and Hidan's high energy capacity for mischief, his visits always end up with your daughter properly knackered, and mercifully tame for the rest of the day.

Kakuzu didn't want kids the same way a dad doesn't want the dog his kids inevitably end up bringing home. You two ended up with a daughter, and at some point, somehow, someway, he became begrudgingly attached and takes over everything surrounding that little baby. Maybe it was the fact that when he looks into her eyes, he sees a soft, sweet mirror of his own, moss-green eyes that haven't yet seen the horrors of the world and the awful things that wait within it. Either way, the most miniscule part of him that can still feel love does, and every ounce of it belongs to her. You have your share, but you know that his daughter put the moon and the stars in his sky again.

Your full-time job becomes raising her, the little lady that sees the world with his eyes and speaks remarkably well for a tiny toddler her age. There's not a snowball's chance in hell that he'd trust some random to watch over his girl. You're just lucky that she's an honest delight to raise, although that might be your own bias talking. Kakuzu does a lot of reading with her, and it's almost comical to see a man like him drawling and grumbling through a ten-paged book about a little pig's wild adventures in kindness.

When Kakuzu's balancing books in the evening and she can't sleep, she always seems to find her way to the kitchen table where the old bounty hunter is pouring over expenses and budgets. Tiny fingers count on an abacus while he counts stacks of green, and when he loses count because she's quietly chatting away to the walls and the table and his ears when they listen, he can't even find it in himself to be upset. Not when those pretty eyes turn their gaze to him and she bids her sweet 'uh oh, sorry papa'. For all his power, he can be weak in those moments that make his heart just a little happier.

Innocent, and unacquainted with the temper that almost defines him as a man, she isn't afraid of him, she isn't afraid of him, she isn't afraid of him. Never had she, nor will she ever bear witness to the ugly, vicious face of his short-fuse and hellfire wrath.

That sweet little girl is spoiled, and that's only because she never seems to ask for anything herself. So polite, for one so small. When little green eyes sparkle because they fell upon a pretty dress, a toy, a book that has her oohing and ahhing, a little cup that has a straw 'oh, wow!' and a cute little pig printed on the plastic 'ohh! a piggy! haha, oink oink!' - who is he to turn his head and leave it at that?

She could ask for the moon, and it would be all he could do to bid a slow, pensive nod and murmured assurance, 'It only sits in the sky for you.'

Hidan is a frequent and uninvited visitor, and while normally you'd find that to be cause for concern it's quickly proven pointless to worry given the fact that if Kakuzu isn't grouching him under control, your daughter has a hilarious talent for putting him in his place. Seeing the zealot sat on your couch, being prodded and chided by a girl less than half his size is certainly a sight to behold; hearing her tut and chastise him in a way she must have learned from her dad for putting his feet on the coffee table, shoes on the couch, or his drink on the side table without a coaster is absolutely hysterical. 'Stains are 'spensive! Feet down!'

Kakuzu's sweet little mini-me: breathes

Kakuzu:

Kisame takes on the dad role like he was born for it, after a small period of adjustment. You two end up having a boy and a girl, and he's practically putty in their little hands. Your boy is huge, had been since he was a baby - which is natural, Hoshigaki kids are just... big, generally. Your girl caught both of you off guard, only because she's so tiny. The sibling dynamic is chaos, but a warm one that always seems to leave Kisame cackling or grinning over something ridiculous those two end up getting into.

Your boy is like a walking clone of his dad, and even as a little boy he's already standing as tall as your ribs. Slate-blue hair as soft as cornsilk, teeth that make you grateful he was never a biter, and little gills bracketing his throat. Soft-spoken, a little shy outside of his parents, and constantly looking to wrestle and play. If you're doing something, he's a guaranteed little helper - he likes to help with cooking when you let him. If his baby sister is getting into trouble, he's either helping her do it to make sure she's safe, or he's the one carrying a kicking, griping toddler to one of you two to handle. Yeah, he's a bit of a narc- but it's always for a good cause. He's a fretful big brother.

Your girl is probably the most precious little baby you'd ever met, and Kisame is quite literally helpless against her doe-eyes and deceptively sweet, cheery little voice. Where her brother is quiet, she is loud; where he's happier to follow the rules and keep out of trouble, she's a born rule-breaker that finds boundaries just to test them. When you stumble upon her in the midst of some suspiciously quiet, pint-sized anarchy, she always manages to look surprised that you ever caught her in the first place. She looks like you, if you were knee-height and sporting tiny little daggers for teeth and gills on your cheekbones. Kisame blames you entirely for her gremlin personality.

Kisame does not discipline unless he needs to, because he feels awful when big, sweet baby eyes look at him with complete betrayal that he dared to tell them no, or stop them from pulling off some kind of crazy baby scheme that would make your hair grey from stress. Quivering pouts or teary eyes and he's gotta tap out.

Babysitters adore your kids when they behave, but Kisame vets any you hire thoroughly because he's more than a little protective of his babes. It's like they're each a half of his heart living outside his body and he honestly struggles to manage the overwhelming love and affection they pump into his veins every day. He could, and gladly would break fingers over something as minute as hurt feelings.

You hold the sole rights to discipline outside the house, too. If either of your ankle-biters act out their mischief in public, and someone tries to step up and throw in their two cents, Kisame's massive silhouette and mean, sawtooth grin are very effective deterrents.

Itachi is a semi-frequent visitor, and both of your children love him fiercely. You're half-convinced that he has some kind of Uchiha magnetism, given the fact that he'd won over not one, but three Hoshigaki by the sheer power of his quiet, soothing presence. Kisame takes great amusement in watching your little lady climb all over the poor man, and your son sidle up beside him with his favourite book to chat his ear off about the adventures that lay within it. Itachi, to his credit, never ever seems to mind the undivided attention of the lively gilled babes.

Kisame, and his pint-sized sidekick: getting into Hoshigaki-brand bullshit

You, with your sweet little chore buddy: > : ( no- one hundred times, no!

Kisame, and his tiny co-maker of mayhem: betrayed, bamboozled, and somehow? positively shocked that you found out

Itachi slips seamlessly into a domestic role, despite how long he'd been absent from one. Childrearing almost seems like his god-given purpose in life once he actually sets himself to it, and the second you two brought home your cooing, burbling baby it was on. He's happy, grateful to stay home and take care of your son, tend to the home and make your transition back to work as smooth of a process as possible.

It's an all-too common scene to come home and find the Uchiha at task in the kitchen, tending to a meal simmering on the stove while your squishy, pudgy-cheeked and sleepy eyed boy perched on his hip with a tenderness that makes your heart hurt. Even as a clumsy little toddler, he's never found very far from his dad. If Itachi is cleaning, there's his little mini-me, trying to help and earning gentle encouragement and a soft, fond smile for his efforts.

Honestly, your little guy is the most well-mannered, well-adjusted, well-spoken toddler you've ever met. He genuinely likes to help, to the point that it sometimes becomes a problem because he's very determined when there's any little problem set out in front of him. At the park, playing with other little babes, he's more concerned with making sure everyone's playing fair and playing safe than he is about actually having any fun himself. He's a bit of a worrywart for someone his age, and half the time it feels like he's the self-appointed tiny guardian of his friend group. Someone trips and skins a knee? 'Are you okay? We can sit down for a little. It's okay.' A born father, is your Itachi.

Who, for a man so reserved and soft-spoken, is hellbent on making sure his son has the most peaceful, memorable childhood he can possibly offer. Not a day is wasted in your household, even a lazy day is an opportunity to make memories and spend some honest, quality time with the people he loves most. You three can cook meals together, with your boy set to work at taste-testing and mixing ingredients under the quiet, watchful eye of his dad. He never wants for encouragement, love, affection, or little things that catch his eye; it would be wrong to call him spoiled, because he isn't, but there is little he wants that he doesn't receive.

Your secondary job is bullying Itachi into taking a day to relax and unwind, because although your son is essentially the perfect child, it's still a lot of work to raise him. Even when you're the primary parent on those days off, he's never far away, and always finding sneaky ways to slip back into dad-mode rather than actually relax. Half the time it takes you putting your son on the job of wrangling his dad just to make the man sit down, crack open a book and let himself just be. That typically entails your little boy gently chiding his father in a way you're certain he learned from the Uchiha himself- and god, it makes your heart melt. 'No, no. Gotta have your tea, it's gonna get cold', 'Sit, sit, sit. Sometimes we need to sit, papa. Gotta rest!'

Kisame loves to visit, he makes that fact no secret. For a man so massive, so intimidating, he handles your boy like glass- as if he's afraid a little rough play might break him. And your son, always as sweet as he is smart, adores the company. His questions know no limits, and he's a clever little babe about getting answers without actually asking questions. 'Can we go swimming? You must swim fast- can you swim under water? I can hold my breath longer than you can.' You once got to watch the boy perched at the end of a dock for half an hour, holding a staring contest with the swordsman who'd been stubbornly sat at the bottom of the lake's shallows for at least half an hour. That thoroughly entertained grin on the swordsman's face when he flared his gills told you he knew what exactly your boy was so curious about when he'd challenged him in the first place.

[highdefhoetry]

Behind the Blindfold, ch. 2 [Satoru Gojo x Reader]

tags: NSFW!!! tickle kink, female reader, penetration (penis in vagina), unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (vaginal), blowjobs, creampie, body worship & praise, aftercare/post-sex cuddling, hand kink, big dick, size kink, size difference, reader is short, enemies to lovers (kind of), dubcon (reader is resistant but only because she's denying feelings), light humiliation with verbal teasing, squirting, reader is tsundere with trust issues

summary: after hooking up with gojo for the first time, you find it increasingly difficult to deny how you feel. tension builds, and your desire for him intensifies. then, on your day off, he shows up at your door...

word count: ~4,350

read part 1 here!

read on ao3 here!

Things became eerily quiet between the two of you after the debacle at headquarters. Conversation was kept to a minimum on missions, eye contact was scarce and purposely avoided, and physical touch was practically non-existent. Of course, this was mostly because you went out of your way to ensure you weren’t left alone together again. Not because you were frightened of him, but because of how he made you feel. 

You couldn’t deny the excitement you felt when he discovered your little kink and teased you endlessly about it, nor could you stop yourself from remembering the feeling of his tongue on your clit and his large, thick fingers pumping inside you. You tried to stifle the new fantasies that arose in your mind when you were alone, but it was difficult to think of anything else when you saw his face every time you closed your eyes. This only made the urges stronger, the desire to go even further with this man you were committed to hate…

But, per usual, you shoved those emotions down and buried them somewhere deep, knowing they’d come back to haunt you anyway. 

Things were okay for a short time. At first, you enjoyed the peace that came with a quiet Gojo. You were finally able to focus on your missions without having to listen to him blabber on and on about whatever stupid shit he was on that day, which meant that things went smoother and time wasn’t wasted on frivolous mind games or flirting. But as the days dragged on, you found it harder and harder to avoid his gaze, to avert your eyes when they lingered on his face, to turn yourself away when you caught yourself staring once more at his hands…

All things that did not go unnoticed by Satoru Gojo. He himself seemed to have trouble keeping you at a distance, and you got the feeling he was constantly holding himself back. There was a quiet, primal energy that radiated from him whenever you were near, an energy that admittedly was more exciting than terrifying. You wondered what would happen to you if that intensity was ever released. You secretly hoped you’d be there long enough to see it.

Whether it was intentional or not (most likely the former, knowing how he was), he jumped at every opportunity to get close to you. He’d choose a seat right next to you in meetings and stretch out his legs until his knees bumped into yours. He’d sneak up behind you when you struggled to reach something up high, gently grinding himself against your ass while he grabbed whatever it was you needed before handing it to you with a smile. He’d graze his fingers over your hand, pretending to pick up the same thing you were even when it was obvious he didn’t need it. All very, very annoying. One time, when he was feeling bold, he placed a hand on the small of your lower back as he passed by you in the hall, with a hushed “Excuse me” whispered in your ear. You flinched at the ghostly touch, then heard a quiet chuckle as you saw him walk by. 

Maddening. Absolutely maddening.

But you had to resist. There was no telling what would happen if you let him get close to you again.

The dam finally breaks on your day off. You had opted to stay at home and rest, since you had spent the last week utilizing your Domain Expansion technique and your body was currently paying the price. You get out of bed in the early afternoon and make breakfast, then spend most of the day plopped on the couch re-watching your favorite old anime. It was kind of dull, but you had made peace with the mundane. Sometimes, boring was good.

However, your peace is interrupted by a heavy knock at your front door sometime in the evening.

You pause the TV and stand up, stretching out your arms and back since they’re a bit stiff from sitting on your ass for so long. It’s probably just the delivery guy dropping off the package you ordered last night. Online shopping is so convenient nowadays. You walk to the door wearing a huge T-shirt that’s basically a dress on you, not bothering to put on underwear or pants. No one is going to see you anyway, right?

Wrong. When you open the door, you see the silver-haired sorcerer staring back at you with a small smirk. A pair of dark tinted sunglasses slide down his nose, revealing the sparkling cerulean of his eyes.

“Heeeey, (Y/N),” Gojo greets you with a voice like silk. 

You immediately slam the door shut.

You hear him calling out to you from the other side as your heart starts pounding, throwing itself against your chest threatening to break loose. As each second passes, countless questions run through your mind.

Why did he come here?

What did he want from you?

And why did you feel so damn excited?

“Hellooooo? (Y/N)? Open up, please~”

You let out a deep sigh and slowly open the door again, greeting Gojo with a neutral expression. He smiles back at you, as warmly as the sun.

“It’s rude to slam doors in people’s faces, you know,” he says in a sing-songy voice while leaning an arm against the door frame, right above your head. Your heart flutters as you look up at this man who towers over you, suddenly feeling quite small.

“What do you want, Gojo?” you ask bluntly.

“I was in the area and thought I’d drop in to say hello.”

He leans forward, his head now directly above yours. His dazzling blue eyes stare right into your soul. The butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. Why did he have such an intense effect on you? You’d never met a man who made your knees weak just by looking at you, not until now.

“You look cute,” he says. 

You absolutely do not. Your hair is a mess, you’re completely bare faced, and you’re pretty sure you’ve got stains on your shirt from the spicy ramen you ate earlier. He’s just trying to butter you up, and you won’t let him.

“Hello, Gojo. Goodbye, Gojo.”

You start to close the door again, but he stops it easily with his giant hand. 

“Wait, (Y/N)...”

“What?” you bellow. “What is it now?”

“Let’s talk. It’s been a while since we had our little ‘heart to heart’.”

He smiles innocently, pushing his body up against yours. You stay put, holding your ground. You cross your arms and lean back against the door frame.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, but there is. Like how loudly you moaned when I-”

You grab his collar before he can finish his thought and drag him inside in a panic, then slam the door shut behind you. You place a finger on your lips to shush him.

“Be quiet! I don’t want the whole world knowing my personal business!”

He smirks at you and chuckles, which only aggravates you further. 

“So that’s what gets your attention. Public humiliation.”

“Ugh! You’re infuriating!” 

You throw your hands up in defeat and let out a frustrated cry before stomping over to the couch and throwing yourself down. Your little interaction had lasted less than two minutes, and already he had exhausted you. You’re so caught up in your own frustration that you barely notice him walk over to sit next to you. You jump a little when you feel him plop down, and when you look at him he simply smiles back. He looks so casual and nonchalant, acting like it was completely natural for him to be there. You could’ve pushed him away, told him to get out, but you didn’t have the heart. Not when he was looking at you like this, with those soft ocean eyes that made you feel like you were the only one in his sights.

He rests his arm on the head of the sofa, curling it around your shoulders and resting his hand next to your neck. You shudder as his fingers brush against your neck, pushing back some of your hair behind your ear. You try not to, but you can’t help but stare at his fingers. They’re quite long, and on the thicker side. His knuckles are dry and calloused, and you see veins popping out on the back of his hands. 

They really are gorgeous. Probably the sexiest hands you’ve ever seen. Your clit starts to throb, even though he hasn’t touched you. Yet.

“You love being annoyed by me,” he says.

“I do not.”

“Then why haven’t you kicked me out yet?”

“Because, you-!” 

You are interrupted by the feeling of his other hand on your chin, a soft gesture to a seldom-touched place. He gently lifts your face up, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. You feel his arm tighten around your shoulders, his fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Because I, what?”

You don’t answer at first, finding it hard to look at him now that he’s demanding your attention. He tilts his head to the side, following your eyes as they try to dart away. He traces his fingertips up your neck, over your ear, then runs them through your hair. You shiver, forcing back giggles and other sounds of pleasure. 

“Do I really rile you up that much?” he teases. “Or are you just easily flustered?”

He lets go of your chin, then runs his hand down your chest, taking his time to drink you in. You feel his palm caress your breast, then trail down your stomach before sneaking under the hem of your shirt to feel the bare skin hidden underneath. You jump a little; his hands are cold, and the way his fingers are moving feels ticklish. Already in a weakened state, you let loose a few giggles and squirm in his arms. 

He grins as he observes your reactions, taking note of your tittered noises and breathy gasps. After taking off his sunglasses and placing them on the coffee table, he swiftly wraps his arm around your back and lays you down flat before sitting between your legs. One thigh to his right, the other to his left. His hands return to your sides, running up and down your waist from your hips to your chest. You stare up at him with wide eyes, feeling completely exposed and at his mercy. 

“You know, (Y/N)...” he says almost in a whisper. “I’ve missed your laugh. I’ve been thinking about it ever since that day.”

A single finger circles your stomach, right around your belly button. You gasp and twist away, but he follows your every movement. 

“The way you squirm. Your frantic little pleas. The sound of your moans when I touch you in just the right places. And there’s still so much more of you left to explore.”

He leans forward, and you wonder for a moment if he’s going to kiss you again, but at the last second his lips flutter in your ear, sending ice cold chills down your spine.

“Haven’t you missed me, too?”

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a loud gasp. His hands, still wandering down your body, reach your hip pockets, a spot that’s both errogenous and deadly. As soon as his fingers make contact, you cry out and curl up your legs into your chest. He forces them apart, pinning them down with his own and exposing you even further.

“Now that is a delightful spot,” he grins deviously, softly stroking his fingers there once more. “You really it here, huh?”

“Ahaha! Hey…!”

You laugh like crazy, struggling as much as you can as he tortures you for a bit. You grab his wrists and try to push his hands away, but he easily resists and further showcases the gap in strength between you by intertwining his fingers with yours and pinning your hands beside your head with ease. You see his eyes, full of wild passion, staring back at you. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what this does to you.”

He lets go of one of your hands and slides his free one between your thighs, caressing your skin for a few moments before slipping a finger into your pussy. He’s right; you’re already soaking wet, just from his teasing touches. You let out an airy moan, instinctively lifting up your hips to push yourself further onto his finger. This pleases him greatly; his grin widens as he watches your reaction. He adds another finger and starts pushing them in, back and forth, back and forth. This time with a bit more vigor and force. God, he’s great with his hands. His thumb massages the hood of your clit while making sure his fingers keep their momentum. It feels so fucking good, you could almost cry.

With a slight curl of his index, he finds that spongy spot inside and rubs his fingertip all around. You scream out in a high-pitched tone as you squirt all over his hands, your body cumming like quick lightning and trembling like a tree in a storm. You hear him chuckle as he pulls out.

“Amazing…” he croons, licking the fluids you’ve left on his fingers. The sight makes you feel delicious, makes you feel desired.

You lay there, a bit winded from the sudden intensity, but you only have a moment to gather yourself before his face plants itself between your thighs. You feel his tongue circling your clit, his mouth warm and wet on your pussy lips as he leaves random kisses here and there. You cry out in pleasure, run your fingers through his silky hair and gently tug as you pull his head down. The feeling makes him groan, and he starts eating you fervently, as if he hasn’t had a goddamn meal in days. 

You’re not sure how much time passes. All you can think about is how amazing it feels having his pretty face buried in your pussy. Your fists ball up, once again taking in his silky locks. You notice that the harder you pull, the more he groans in pleasure. It feels unkempt and wild, the way you’re both consuming one another so ravenously.

But you need more.

And so does he. When he decides that enough is enough, he begins to kiss his way up your body, making sure no part of your skin is left without proper worship. He plants his lips on your upper thighs, your hips, those unbearable divots that make you squeal, the spot on your lower belly right below the belly button. His lips travel up your stomach, kiss under your breasts, then float up towards your collar bones before finally reaching your face. He leans forward and kisses you softly, deeply, with the passion of a long lost lover. Like before, you put a hand on the back of his neck and pull him in closer, wanting to taste yourself on him. Your tongue dances with his; your moans echo his own.

He pulls back and grabs the hem of his shirt, then pulls it off his head. You do the same, lifting your oversized T-shirt over your head and rendering yourself nude. He yanks down his pants and tosses them on the floor somewhere, revealing the chiseled muscles he’d been hiding under his clothes. His torso is lean, but muscular; his abs are defined and rock hard when you glide your fingers across. You feel him shudder at your touch, but he doesn’t stop you when you continue running your fingers up and down his waist and stomach. 

While you’re admiring his form, he slowly pulls his tight boxers down his thighs. His hard cock swings out; you gasp when you lay eyes on it. Just as you thought, Gojo Satoru has a big dick. It’s at least nine inches, maybe more, and his girth is modestly thick. It curves off to one side with a vein running down the other, and the skin is paler than the rest on his body.

It’s perfect.

You sit up without thinking and immediately take it in your hand. You feel him throb as you kiss the tip, getting him warmed up for more. Even that little motion causes Gojo to let out quivered moans, spurring you further. You slowly lick up and down his shaft, making sure it’s nice and wet as your hand clenches around it and starts to jerk. You press your lips onto the tip and start swirling your tongue around it until Gojo starts thrusting softly; you can taste salty precum on your tongue. It makes you smile. You could probably make him cum by deep throating him at this point, so you decide to test this and take his dick in your mouth fully and completely. The sound that comes out of his mouth is delightful; his needy cries are angelic.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach his limit. His groans reach new volumes, his dick slides in and out of your mouth with fervor. You feel yourself start to choke, but push through the feeling. You love hearing Gojo moan like this while his cock is in your mouth. You’re obsessed with the way it throbs and pulsates with every flick of your tongue, how easily you’ve brought him to the edge. You didn’t mind gagging and drooling if it meant seeing Gojo in this state, the cocky and overconfident sorcerer conquered by you and you alone.

But right before he’s about to cum, he pulls himself out of your mouth and leans over, bracing his hands on the couch cushions behind you. 

“...Not yet…” he pants, sweat dripping down his forehead. “I want to feel what it’s like to be inside you.”

Nothing else needed to be said. You take his dick without hesitation and guide it into your hole, going slowly so it won’t hurt too much. He sticks in the tip, and just the tip, which causes you to cry out in shock despite the fact that he’s barely inside. Gradually, he pushes his cock in further, letting out deep, raspy groans the deeper he goes. Finally, you feel his hips bump against yours, and you know he’s in all the way. The feeling of fullness and the heavenly vocalizations he’s making cause your clit to throb and your walls to clench around his dick.

In a steady rhythmic pace, he slides in and out of your pussy, slowly increasing the speed and ferocity. Your wetness has made it easier to take him in, although you definitely feel his size. It feels better than any dick you’ve had before. You feel your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out moan after moan, whimpering with pleasure.

“You have such a pretty little hole,” he praises, sweat dripping down his brow. You feel your cheeks flush; even now, when things were most lewd, he found a way to be soft to you. You notice the way he’s looking down, watching as his dick goes in and out. He must be enjoying the visual; he pumps harder as your hole welcomes him again and again.

“Oh, God!!” You cry out, wrapping your legs around his back and your arms around his neck. He feels fucking phenomenal. How long had it been since you’d fucked like this? Your desire for him was insatiable. You couldn’t get enough. You needed so much more.

“God, you feel so fucking good…” he continues, growling like an animal as he thrusts as deeply as he can into your pretty pussy. His praise, his passion, his rapid speed steadily bring you closer to your climax.

He suddenly puts his large hands on your waist and starts stroking your skin, lazily dragging his fingertips across your bare stomach. You arch your back and squeal, which makes you clench your vaginal walls around his cock instinctively. It’s a sensitive spot, but after all the foreplay feels almost like sensory overload. He makes a noise that almost sounds like he’s going to cry.

“Fuck!!!” he growls in a low, guttural tone. 

As his soft fingers stroke your skin over and over, you’re caught between long moans and frantic laughter. He lets up after some time, thankfully, opting to focus on thrusting. Where he touched still feels like electric fireworks. You cry until your voice feels hoarse, overcome with ecstacy, erupting in tiny little orgasms as his cock impales you. 

Then, after god knows how long, he grabs your hips and slams into you one last time. He lets out one last moan that starts as a howl and ends as a whimper, and you feel warmth spread through you inside. His dick twitches as he lets loose his load, filling you with his cum. It feels so goddamn good, being full of his seed. Pregnancy be damned. It was fucking worth it.

He collapses on the couch next to you, panting heavily like he’s just outrun a curse. His skin is warm and damp to touch, just like yours, except it looks a bit more flushed. You notice some of his hair is plastered against his forehead and reach over to brush it off. He responds by kissing the palm of your hand, then snuggling up against you by wrapping his arms around his body. You feel like a tiny rabbit caught in the arms of a wolf. His body is so big, completely encompassing yours. You have never felt so small… and so adored.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbles while kissing your neck and your cheek. His hands wander over your body, one gently fondling your breast while the other caresses your hips and ass. It’s more soothing than arousing, but welcome nonetheless.

As the rush of pleasure finally dies down, you fall silent and just enjoy the tiny moments nestled up to him. You’re not sure you’ll ever have this again. You’ve gone all the way, he’s experienced you at your most vulnerable and taken all of you in, all that you could offer. Your eyes fall on the clock on the end table. 10:13 P.M. 

Pretty soon, he’ll be leaving, and the two of you would once again pretend like nothing happened.

“You truly are amazing…” he snaps you out of your daze by pressing his lips against your earlobe, making you coo quietly. You’re not sure what to say back. You shuffle around to face him, staring deeply into his eyes as he looks back with slight confusion.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” you say bluntly, trying to remove yourself emotionally from the situation, preparing yourself for the pain. “I’ll be fine if you go.”

His mouth drops open slightly, and he’s rendered silent. But after a few moments, his smirk returns. 

“And what about me, (Y/N)? What if I want to stay?”

He suddenly attacks your sides with vigor, tickling your rib cage until you practically scream with laughter. You thrash around like mad, but can’t manage to kick him or throw him off. He laughs at your suffering, keeps it up for a few seconds before he finally stop. To make up for it, he kisses your forehead and speaks to you as he moves down your face, kissing your closed eyelids and flushed cheeks.

“You can stop with the tough girl act. I can see right through it,” his eyes flash as he stares at you intensely, reminding you of his power. “This is your roundabout way of asking me to stay the night, isn’t it?”

God damn it. Were you really that easy to read? You have nothing to say in response, so you muster up the most displeased pout you can before burying your face in his chest. He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrate as your face presses against it. He places one of his hands on the top of your head and starts running his fingers through your hair. The feeling makes you purr. He’s warm. And soft. And he smells really, really good. Like expensive cologne, the kind you get from designer storefronts locked behind displays. It's like his entire essence is encompassing you.

“Have a little more faith in me, will ya?” he implores you, wrapping you up in his embrace a little tighter. “Next time, just come outright and say how you feel. I promise I’ll listen.”

“No you won’t,” you lift your face to address him. “You’ll just tease me.”

“You’re right,” he flicks your nose, prompting you to grab his hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours, chuckling softly. “But that’s only because you’re so fun to tease.”

The two of you press your hands together, palm to palm. Yours look tiny compared to his. His long fingers curls over yours, his palm is almost the size of your entire hand. You play with them a bit, caressing each finger, feeling the rough skin battered by fights and cursed techniques. He intertwines his fingers with yours once more, then brings your hand to his lips to plant a kiss on the back. 

“You truly are full of surprises. Who would’ve thought someone as fiery and passionate as you would have such tender feelings?”

You pout again, and apparently the sight amuses him so much that he throws his head back and laughs. His embrace grows tighter as he kisses you on the lips. He lingers there for some time before speaking again.

“If only you knew, (Y/N)…”

“Knew what?”

He lays his head down on the couch pillow, and you watch as his eyes flutter shut. His silver eyelashes are almost translucent in the glow of night. They look as delicate as butterfly wings. 

“How bad I've got it for you…”

You want to ask him what that means, but when you hear his deep, sleepy breathing, you decide to leave it alone. Your own eyes are getting heavy, and his arms are so comfortable. Your own eyelids start to droop, and very soon you join him in slumber.