#I almost choked on my herbal tea

[asumofwords]

Modern!Dark!Aemond - Divorce AU - Oneshot

Til Death Do Us Part

SUMMARY: You and Aemond had been married for years, but he was not the man you thought he was. Discovering his affair with his secretary Alys Rivers, you had decided that enough was enough. You packed up your things in secret and left, leaving divorce papers on the table, and booked a one way ticket out of the country.

What will happen when Aemond goes to the ends of the earth to find you and make you his again?

WARNINGS: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. She/her pronouns, stalking, abuse, toxic relationships, infidelity, divorce, NONCON, manipulation, gaslighting, marriage, rough sex, choking, hitting, punching, yandere, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, forced orgasm, violence, daddy kink, dacryphilia, head injury.

PAIRINGS: Modern!Dark!Aemond x reader

Word count: 10.2k

NOTES: Well, well, well.... Here we are. You have all been so feral waiting for this to drop and I am honestly so excited to see you all crawling about in my walls after. Probably shouldn't have to say this by now but will for new folks, READ THE TAGS, this is a DARK!FIC. There is no fluff or happiness lmao. This has been so fucking fun to write hehehe.... Anyway.... Without further adieu... Enjoy ;) <3

The soft hissing of the kettle took you away from the book you had been reading, nestled against one of the many windows in the small cottage you now owned.

Taking the kettle from the stove, you poured the boiled water over your tea leaves, watching the herbal mix swirl in the strainer. 

The soft aroma of chamomile and peppermint wafted from the cup and you inhaled deeply, leaning against the kitchen bench as you waited for it to steep, no use going back to your book nook until the tea was ready to take with you. 

The leaves from the pine trees in the forest outside had turned a deep green, the cold chill of winter having rolled through the valley of the quaint village you lived in early this year. Condensation rose from earth as the sun heated the mildew on the grass, the smokey illusion seeping from the forest floor.

It was different to the city. No more were the days of craning your head up to look at the crawling skyline of buildings, the sound of traffic, or yelling of people on the street. No more did you hear cars blare their horns or music, or the melodic sounds of people chattering in the late hours of the night or fights between lovers from apartments surrounding.

Now, the most noise you heard was the occasional storm that rolled through the valley, or the deer that wondered the pasture at the back of your property. 

You could remember the first night you heard them, such a different and unfamiliar screeching that had set your hair on edge, eyes darting about to each window and front door as you raced around the house to make sure they were locked. 

They always were. 

You were meticulous that way. Always vigilant, always ready. 

But in reality, you shouldn’t still be on edge.

It had been months since you left.

Almost an entire year since you packed your things and left the papers and your ring on the table for him to find. And what’s more, there would be no way for him to find you out here. 

Not that he would even try.

You hoped.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t love him, or loved him; the lines were still blurred there. But Aemond had broken you in ways you never knew he could.

The lies, the secrecy, and then, her. 

You remembered when you had first met Alys; a work event Aemond brought you along to. The pretty wife and happy family image did wonders for his company and the press, so he often brought you along on his arm, smiles and grins for the cameras, whispers of starting a family or trying for one, until you were out of view. 

But that time had been different. 

That time, something had changed. 

You had known about Alys Rivers for a while, a new hire going months back. A woman from no notable name, nor background, a start up of her own, worked hard to get where she was, or at least, that’s what you had first thought when Aemond had described her to you; his new secretary hire. 

An older woman, not one a wife would usually find as a threat.

It’s almost always the younger ones. Older men seeking out their youth between the thighs of a barely twenty-something, whilst their wives are none the wiser, or perhaps knowing and too resigned to care, birthing them children at home as their marriage dissolves into nothing but a loveless legal contract.

But this was different.

She hadn’t come to introduce herself at first, not at all, and that’s what you found the strangest.

Alys Rivers, a few inches taller than you, with pale skin and bright green eyes, had stood in the far end of the hired venue, sipping a glass of red wine, perfectly manicured maroon nails tapping on the glass, whilst she tucked an ebony strand of hair behind her ear. 

You had felt the heat of her gaze immediately, your eyes meeting hers, and yet, she didn’t look away, didn’t smile softly, walk over and introduce herself as any other woman would have. She just stared. Right into your very soul. It had sent shivers down your spine, and you knew, in that moment, that something was wrong. 

Off.

Aemond had done his rounds with his private investors, higher employees, friends, if you could call them that, and press alike, all whilst you stuck by his side, smiling pretty and responding with shallow answers that didn’t give too much or too little for them to talk about later. 

You hated those stuffy events, men and women alike always trying to get closer to you in order to get to Aemond, who was a fortress to begin with. Some people often commented or made joking remarks at how surprised they were that you had married him. That you had managed to thaw the Ice Man himself, that he was even capable of such things, and you would always laugh and make jokes back in good nature, smile never reaching your eyes. 

But really, he was amazing when you were first married. Doting, loving, loyal, and always there, though that was sometimes overbearing. There was of course the little things, the teeny red flags that you ignored more often than not, rose tinted glasses and all that, but you had been young and in love and crazy about him, and he had been the same about you.

But as the years rolled by, and the two of you grew, you also both changed. The business expanded rapidly with the death of his father Viserys, and Aemond became more preoccupied with that legacy, most of the empire being passed along to him, and not his older brother Aegon, who had no desire to work and would rather live off his inherited wealth with drugs and weekend benders surrounded by lusty women. Occasionally men too.

And then when Alys came into the picture, it was like a switch had been flicked.

As though the Aemond you had thought you knew, never existed at all.

Alys had sauntered her way over half way through the event to introduce herself, all saccharine smile with razor sharp teeth that looked ready to sink into your flesh. She was polite, pleasant, overly pleasant, too sweet, too complimentary, and it felt off. Like an overripe peach, or wine that had been left open for a week too long. 

Your husband had been stiff at your side, hand flexing around the tumbler of whiskey the entire time she stood beside him, too close to be friendly, and most certainly far too close for a boss and his secretary. And really, you should have listened to your instincts then and there, for they screamed that something was amiss. 

But Aemond had a way of getting into your head, making you believe every word he said, push away your own instincts, and question yourself over, and over.

And that’s what you had done.

Questioned yourself, over and over. 

Yet one day, something in the back of your head nagged at you too loudly. Aemond had not answering his personal number, calls you could understand, but usually he responded to his texts. But that day he hadn't. And so you called the office, where he spent most of his time these days, which had become a frustrating new normal, as was the depletion of your small weekends away, romantic dinners, spontaneous days out together.

The marriage felt stagnant, stale, and you knew in your gut the true reason for it. His desk had rang for too many rings too long. And when Alys had finally answered, she sounded rushed, caught unawares, awkward.

That was all it had took. 

You had asked if he had his lunch yet, that you were nearby in the city and wondering if you should drop by, knowing that he had been spending later evenings in the office ‘working’, or weekend trips away to Harrenhal for business there, his secretary tagging along. 

Alys informed you that he had just ate, but the way she said it was with that same overly sweetness that set your brain afire. 

It was almost smug. 

And so, without even hesitating, like you had for months on end, you picked up your keys and left, heading straight to his office.

Your heart had raced the entire time you drove there, weaving through traffic, just knowing, knowing, something, deep in your gut was not right.

And you were right. 

Because there they were, caught like two deers in the headlights as you had swung the door open, Alys, seated on his desk, skirt pushed up to her hips, one shoe lost to the floor as Aemond thrusted into her parted legs.

They hadn’t even heard you at first.

But she saw you.

And she had smiled.

You will always remember his face. 

He had turned and looked at you with shock at first, but then it turned to anger, as though you were at fault for this, as though you had ruined his fun, as though you should have known better, scar on his cheek crinkling with the sneer he threw your way.

You left in a flurry of hot tears, immediately calling your lawyer.

You drove straight to your best friend Sara’s house, and crashed at hers for the week, ignoring the constant buzz of calls and texts, and yes, even emails from your husband. Aemond in his desperation to reach out to you, even drove to Sara’s house, demanding if you were there. You had hid in the bathroom, holding your breath in the tub, shaking with anger and heartbreak and fighting the urge to go out there, to yell at him, scream at him, or more dangerous still, forgive him.

Then you were gone, speaking to your solicitor to get everything set into motion, friends loyally supporting your decision. You left the divorce papers on the dining room table, packed your bags and left whilst he was at the office, giving him no chance to manipulate you into staying, no chance for argument, and no chance for your heart to win over, taking your essentials and sentimental possessions with you.

You stood in your home, looking at everything inside, at all the memories that you shared in there. From when you had first looked at the house, to buying it, to Aemond's insistence on christening every single surface in the house to make it yours, all giggles and smiles, pleasure and joy.

But gone were those days, gone was the joy and the giggles, the pleasure and the smiles, and so with shaky fingers, you ripped off your wedding ring, finger feeling bare in its absence as you left it atop the pages. 

At first you were just hoping to get some space to clear your head and not be manipulated by your husbands lies and very convincing words again. You knew that if you gave him a chance, you would be stuck. You knew that if he pleaded, if he begged, if he smiled with his signature smirk, it would be your downfall. He knew you far too intimately now. He knew how to get you to bend to his will. So you booked the nearest ticket you could and raced to the airport, not once looking back.

You had just landed in Paris when you turned your phone back on, watching the screen as it lit up, where you were immediately bombarded with multiple missed calls from him and a barrage of texts that became more, and more aggressive as time went on. 

It was your fault really, to poke the dragon the way you had.

And yet you still did it, answering one of his frantic calls to hear the cool and icy tone of Aemond, barely keeping it together on the other end. 

“Where are you?” He had asked, voice deep and quiet, small growl on the end; a tell tale sign that he was furious. 

The airport was loud around you, people moving to their next gates, or stopping to move to the small cafes to eat, others continuing onwards towards the baggage claim to collect their luggage. 

“It's none of your business.” You had responded, tone clipped, irritation and anger surging through you at his audacity to even be mad.

“I think it’s plenty my business. You’re my wife.”

“Not anymore. Have your solicitor talk to mine. Sign the papers, Aemond.”

You heard him breathe heavily into the speaker, “If you think for one fucking second that I’m going to-“

You pressed the red button on your phone and hung up on him, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you moved lazily through the queue to get through customs. 

By the time you had gotten out the other end, you checked your phone again. 

There was only one text on the screen that had sent panic blaring through your mind. 

‘See you soon.’

You hadn’t planned to run, you hadn’t even planned to leave the country indefinitely, you just needed an out, but Aemond’s aggression had extended it, triggering your flight instincts. You didn’t believe that he would hurt you, but this new anger had frightened you. This new Aemond frightened you.

But Aemond Targaryen’s anger was not new to you either, his possessiveness was not new, and at one point you had even found it endearing. But after years of being married to what you thought was the man of your dreams, the other shoe dropped, and the true man was revealed. 

So you made quick work of it, going to an international bank, taking every single cent out of your combined account.

You knew he wouldn’t struggle financially from such a loss, having another seperate offshore account, or two, or five if you were really counting. Not to mention his inheritance which sat in a vault in Budapest.

Comes with being descended from royalty.

But in the end, you knew you needed every dollar if you were going to get away from him and make it stick.

So you got a new passport, ID, and hitchhiked your way across several countries until you finally settled, finding a cottage, nestled in the woods, a solid thirty minute drive from town, buying it from the local farmer in cash. No contract. No deed. Just cash and his silence. 

And that’s where you had been ever since.

You took your tea to the window, settling against the nook, pillows and blankets strewn all over as you curled inside. You looked out at the trees, the sun slowly setting for the day. 

It was cold in your cottage, not too cold, but cold enough. Winter had come early that year, and you had used more logs of wood for the fire than you had thought you would have needed. 

It was strange, to be so far away from the life you used to live. To be so removed from the world. But in some ways it was good. You had no social media, having deactivated every single one you had, and you also had barely any use of your phone unless you turned on the broadband, which was shaky at best and if it was windy, the reception would cut out.

The only people you really spoke to anymore was the people who lived in the town just a ways away, and Sara, who called every Sunday like clockwork, well actually like clockwork, you needed to turn the broadband on for Skype to work on the laptop you had taken with you.

In the almost year you had been gone, you had taught yourself how to make your own clothes, pickle and preserve foods, and even became quite handy at baking the odd loaf of bread here and there. The farmers whose cottage it was previously had left his belongings behind, taking only his clothes and things of memory with him.

There were books almost everywhere, the old man having been an avid reader, and amongst the books had been one on horticulture, and so slowly but surely, you had grown your own self sustaining vegetable patch. It wasn’t perfect, but it prevented you from going into town too often, and also allowed you to not seek employment just yet.

That would come later when Sara would tell you that Aemond would sign the papers. 

But every Sunday was the same.

“Any news?” You asked her that morning, Sara had frowned, pixelated to hell, but the frown still evident on your screen.

“Nope. Nothing. The asshole won’t sign them still. Solicitor can’t even find him to talk.”

You sighed, wiping hands down your face angrily. 

Why was he doing this?

Why wouldn’t he just let you go?

Something about it made your skin crawl. 

Those messages, those calls. 

The ‘See you soon’ text. 

Something had snapped in Aemond, and you didn’t like it one bit. 

Your only consolation was that you were far away with a new name, new life, hidden amongst rolling green hills and large forests.

“How’s Cregan?” You changed the subject, and Sara had given you an update on everyones lives, her brothers first, and his new girlfriend. Then to all your other friends who you longed to see again. 

But not yet, you just needed a little more time and for your husband to agree to the divorce. 

When the sun had lowered in the sky, you moved to turn the lights in the house on, throwing some logs into the fire and lighting them with a match. You made sure to thank the Gods for solar panels. 

The warmth of the fire heated up the small cottage quickly, and you made quick work of reheating a lamb soup you made a few days earlier, crisp homemade bread on the side with butter from a nearby dairy farmer.

It was hearty and warm, and filled you up, having a soporific affect on you. You had a glass of red wine as a treat afterwards, bought from the local markets and found yourself sinking deeper into fatigue. 

It was a routine of sort, wake, eat, read, work on the garden or house, eat, drink, sleep. It was comfortable, and it eased much of your worries, always keeping busy. You didn’t realise how stressed and anxious the life you used to live made you.

The week went by, much the same. 

The same routine. 

The same walls, and floors, and rooms. 

Same window nook, and cups of tea, and warming your hands by the fire.

By the time Saturday rolled by, you had been elated, excited even, to get out and look at the homemade wares and farm grown produce. To see the people you had grown to care about and make as your quiet friends. Still at arms length of course with your fake new life, but you let them in more than you had intended to. 

It was never a large market, merely the other people who lived in or around the tiny town. But it was cozy, sweet, and some faces were more familiar than others. You looked forward to seeing them all and catching up on their weeks, especially an older lady named Lucy, who crocheted and knitted some of the most wonderful things. She had kind grey eyes, and would always insist on you taking something from her for free.

Today was no different.

“You make this most difficult, hen.” The grey haired woman frowned, coming round the side of her small stall to shove a large, grey knitted jumper into your arms, the same colour as her eyes.

You shook your head, “Lucy, please, at least let me give you some money for it.” Grabbing the soft wool that was pressed against your chest.

The older lady smirked, hands up in the air in submission, “It’s too late,” Her voice was thick with a Scottish accent, “You best be taking that, girly. It’ll be a cold winter that comes round this year, I feel it in my bones already.”

You sighed, “Then let me give you some money for it, and you can buy some more wool to make yourself some warm socks.” Fishing around in your bag to find some cash to give her. 

Lucy crossed her arms across her chest, “Gonny no dae that. If you give me any money I’ll be right offended by you, I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug. It’s a gift, you dafty.”

You shook your head and chuckled, there was no point in fighting.

You would never win anyway.

“Fine.” You acquiesced, “But I’m coming to drop you some muffins and scones when I make them next week.”

The older lady sat down heavily in her chair behind the stall, “I expect nothing less. Will you bring some strawberries from yer plot? Dang caterpillars got into mine and tore them to shreds.”

“I’ll bring you a mix of goodies from my wonderful garden that has no caterpillars.” You teased, rubbing the woollen jumper between your fingers, “Thanks again, Lucy, but you’re a menace.”

“Got to be when yer married to my husband.” Lucy joked, but it made your heart race instead.

You swallowed thickly and smiled shakily at the woman, nodding before bidding her a goodbye. 

You walked through the rest of the market for a while, getting some fresh honey from a local farmer, some potatoes for a stew later on, and even buying yourself a new handmade mug.

It was a bustling affair, small children giggling with their parents, and older members of town who had been born and raised there walking about and stopping to talk with their life long companions. 

Bright bunches of flowers caught your attention, and you moved over to look at them all.

Native flowers of all kinds were bunched together; roses, petunias, anything that could survive the chillier climate. And as you looked at a peculiar shaped purple flower, hooded like a bell, the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

A shiver rolled down your spine, and instinctually you turned, eyes darting around the rest of the market, looking at the sea of people, young and old, walking with their wares, chatting amongst each other or smiling. 

Not one had that familiar head of silver hair.

You breathed out a sigh, shaking your head.

It’s fine.

You’re fine.

You’re safe.

It’s just your anxiety. It was probably just Lucy’s comment that set you on edge.

Not even Sara truly knew where you were. 

You looked back at the flowers again, eyes on the purple ones that were nestled amongst pea flowers and other pinks and yellows.

“Devils Helmut.” The man told you, noting your interest in its peculiar shape, “Monkshood to others, or Wolfsbane to those witchy ones.” His eyes looked at you intently, “You ok? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.”

He was tall, older, but not by much, with deep brown eyes and wavy brunette hair that came to his shoulders, tucked behind his ears. His jaw was sharp, a nice shadow across the skin from his stubble, with lips that were full and pulled upwards slightly. He had broad shoulders and large hands, tiny freckles dusting the pale skin as he watched you. 

He was relatively new to town like you, but not really. Duncan, you remembered, had moved back to the little town after his father had passed away, inheriting the plot of land that was next to yours. Lucy had spilled the tea, over a cup of tea, about him with you a few months before, telling you that he was an eligible bachelor with a wink, trying to set the two of you up.

And although he was undeniably attractive, you worried for the implications of getting to know him, and eventually having to tell him about your marriage, and why you were truly where you were. You doubted the man would want anything to do with your baggage.

“I’m okay, just a bit cold. How have you been?” You asked him, the feeling of being watched prickling at the back of your head.

“Fairly good.” Duncan rolled his r deeply, same low Scottish timbre as Lucy, distracting you from the rancid feeling that curled in your gut, “The winter’s come early this year.”

Duncan leant a hand against the table, and you noted that there was no ring on his finger.

Stop that.

“That’s what Lucy said too. Can definitely feel it.”

Duncan looked pointedly at the jumper still in your hands, “And what’s she given you this time?”

Unfolding the jumper in your arms you held it up, holding it against yourself to show him, “A new jumper. Will be perfect when it gets colder. Wish she’d stop throwing things at me and not letting me pay though.”

Duncan laughed, a deep chortle that rumbled his chest and warmed your cheeks, “That’s Lucy for you. She does the same to me too, the auld blether.”

You laughed heartily, “We should go in doubles to the markets when you’re not selling. There’s strength in numbers, you know.”

Oh gods. Why did you say that?

A soft smile pulled on his lips, “You don’t know Lucy well enough if you think we’d stand a chance against her. She’d bowl us over without even blinking.”

Another laugh, and a shrug, "Worth the try.”

Duncan’s eyes scanned your face softly before he stepped forward, grabbing the bunch of flowers you had been looking at from their little vase, holding them out towards you, “Here.”

You looked at the flowers in his hands and frowned, “What?”

“Take them.” He insisted, “You looked right keen on the Monkshood, mean bloody flower that one. Be careful you don’t touch it too much.”

You shook your head, tucking your jumper into your bag, “I can’t possibly-“

“-Please. I insist.”

You reached forward to take the flowers from him hesitantly, feeling guilt bubble inside of you. What was with all these people and their generosity? It was going to give you an aneurism. 

Your fingers brushed against his, and the warmth carried up your arm and straight into your chest. Duncan must have felt it too, because a soft blush creeped across his freckled cheeks.

Holding the bunch of flowers to your chest you smiled.

“You don’t have any pets at home? Any cats that might try and make a snack of the flowers?” Duncan pointed to the Monkshood.

You shook your head, “No it’s just me.”

His eyes danced as he nodded, and you felt as if you had answered his second question without him even having to ask.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

A large hand waved the thanks away, “Dinnae worry about it. Though, I have heard good things about yer baking.”

“Have you now? Has Lucy spilt all my secrets?”

A smirk, “Not yer secrets no. But yer baking, yes.”

Feeling bold, you smirked back, “I could make you something, if you’d like." You held up the flowers in show, "As a thanks, of course.” 

“What can you make?”

“Anything you want.” You said quieter, swallowing the anticipation that rose in your throat.

“Can you make a good scone?”

You scoffed, “Easiest of things to bake.”

Duncan mirrored your stance, pursing his lips, “Guess I’ll have to be the judge of that then. Do you have enough wood for yer fire? Snow will be falling soon, and we dinnae want you chittering in the cold.”

“I’ve got some left, but I know I’ll probably have to go over to Douglas and Lucy’s to get some more.”

The brown haired man paused in thought, tongue in cheek before he spun around, crouching down to rifle through a bag beneath his table, pulling out a pen and paper. 

Duncan placed the small notebook in front of you.

“How about this, you give me yer number, and I’ll come round and bring you some more wood, maybe chop some for the fire as well, and you can thank me by making some scones. I can bring some of Elsie’s jam with me.” Duncan looked up at you, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. 

And although he had spoken with confidence, it was clear that he was just as nervous as you. 

It was hard to fight the heat that creeped up your neck. Excitement and anticipation coursing through you, the feeling of being desired making you giddy. 

It had been so long.

You bit your bottom lip softly nodding, leaning down to write your home phone number, making a note to plug the old thing in, praying that it still works, as well as your address into the notebook.

Duncan smiled softly, taking it back and looked at the note, “You didn’t have to write down yer address, I know you bought Macnair’s property a while back, we're practically neighbours. Not accounting for the acres between us.”

“Oh.” You laughed softly, “Sorry, I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Hard to not know everyone here, especially when you grew up around them all. Plus, hard to not notice the bonnie lass who moved here. Quite the stir you created.”

You shook your head and blushed again, Gods damn him, “Not my intention.”

You both stood shyly for a moment, staring at each other, a warm pleasant tension building around the two of you. 

Duncan cleared his throat, and clapped his hands together softly, “Right. Well, It’s a dreich day, so you best be off before the rain comes again.” He held the notebook up in his hand and shook it lightly, “You’ll be seeing me soon then. I’ll be coming to collect some of those scones.”

You grinned, and held the flowers gently in show again, “I hope they’re up to your standards. Thanks again for the flowers. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

-

The blaring ring of the Skype call filled your cottage. You raced from the kitchen to the desk, answering Sara’s call with a bright smile.

“Sar!” You smiled, pulling out your chair to sit in it, looking at your best friends face. But her excitement did not match yours, and instead, her face filled you with dread.

“Sar, what’s wrong?” 

You watched as Sara visibly swallowed, leaning towards her computer, “Aemond’s left the country.”

Chills ran over your body.

“Oh, he must have a conference in Rome or Budapest. He always used to-“

“-No.” Sara interrupted you, and her voice instilled a rising sense of fear that you had been battling with for months, “Y/n, I don’t think that’s it. He’s already been gone over a week. That’s why the solicitor couldn’t talk to him him.”

Your heart raced in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

Sara continued as you felt the walls around you move closer, “That’s why the solicitor couldn’t get in contact with him. They went to his office. Apparently he’s on leave, not even Alys was there.”

You licked your lips, swallowing dryly, “What do I do? Fuck, Sara, what do I do?”

“Don’t panic. He doesn’t know where you are! Hell, I don’t even know where you are.”

“I know, I know. But still…” You paused, breathing shallowly, “Sara, I went to the markets yesterday, and it was… Off. Something was off… And I just couldn’t shake this feeling that I was being watched.” You felt like you were going to be sick.

Sara’s face fell, head turning to talk to someone else quietly in the room.

“Who’s that?”

“Just Cregan. He’s talking to Helaena.”

You scoffed sadly, “Helaena won’t know anything. She didn’t even know about Alys.”

Sara shrugged, image becoming pixelated, “I-…-ow…-bu-….-o….-harm…-“

“Sar, you’re cutting up.” 

You swore, swatting the computer lightly as her image froze.

Fucking broadband. Gods, maybe you should invest in getting a satellite dish here. At least you could get some cable tv if you did.

“-come to you.” Sara unfroze, the pixels evening out to an almost smooth image.

You groaned, “I didn’t catch any of that. Fucking internet cut out.”

“Can you get a satellite or something like a normal person and not be such a hermit? I said, why don’t I come to you.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you, Sar. Besides, he wouldn’t hurt me, not that he’d ever find me. He’s just an asshole. Probably curse me out and tell me I’m making it all up.”

Sara’s face dropped again, and you wished she was pixelated so you couldn’t see it, the image making your skin crawl, “Y/n. Theres something you don’t know.”

You straightened in your chair, “Is Alys pregnant?”

“No. She’s too old for that. Something else. Something Jacaerys told Cregan one night years ago. I didn’t want to tell you then, you guys were so in love, and I had never seen you so happy. I just,” She sighed, “I didn’t even really believe it until recently.”

“Sar, you’re scaring me.”

She shook her head, “I know, I know. But as you said, he doesn’t know where you are, and he won’t find you. But Y/n, Aemond isn’t who we think he is.”

“Are you about to tell me he’s some sort of international spy, or politician in hiding?” You tried to joke, but the joke fell flat.

Sara’s head looked to the side before back at the screen, “When Aemond was young, he had a temper. A real bad one. Never got along with his nephews.” She took a steadying breath, “When Lucerys was thirteen and Aemond was nineteen, he attacked him. It was probably years of pent up anger after the accident, a fight had been brewing, but he didn’t stop. No-one could stop him, Y/n. It was bad. Really bad.”

Your stomach roiled.

“Y/n, Lucerys nearly died.”

Your mouth gaped open as you could scarcely get air into your lungs. 

Oh gods.

Oh gods.

“Breathe.” Sara cooed through the computer, “Girl, you need to breathe.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, hand rubbing your chest, “What the fuck?”

“I know. I know. But they were young, I mean, Aemond was a lot older, but still. They were boys. And Aemond would never do anything like that to you. Not that he will ever find you.”

You counted your breaths as Sara spoke to you, trying to get the room to stop spinning.

“Y/n, y-….I-…t wi-…ll be fine-…. I-… ca-…n…-“

You growled at your screen, standing up in anger and frustration, anxiety pulling cruelly at your gut. You paced in front of the desk as you waited for your friend to come back into view. 

When she de-pixelated and came back, you leant heavily against the table.

“You got your phone with you?” You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Yea.” Sara lifted her phone to the screen.

“Okay, I’m going to give you my address. When do you think you can come?”

A cry flew from your lips. 

The cottage was bathed in complete darkness, generator slowing to halt outside, the soft hum of electricity disappearing. Your heart lurched into your throat as you stood in the darkness. Skype screen blaring a ‘Lost Connection’ notification at you.

You took shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself. 

This wasn’t unusual. 

Just last month a squirrel had been trying to burrow into the electrical box for warmth and chewed through a cable. Luckily for you, Douglas had come over to fix up the wiring and helped you on your way. But with all that had been happening, it gave you a right scare. 

Your heart did not slow in your chest, nor did you calm with the way your ears pricked at any noise inside or out. You stumbled through the darkness of the cottage to the kitchen, searching beneath the sink for your emergency torch. 

Grasping it in your hand, you clicked it on, lone beam of light shining a path for you through the house to the front door. You crept slowly forward, the sound of your loud breathing in your ear as you got to the door.

You would have to go out and flip the switches manually, and make sure the damned squirrel wasn’t back. 

Throwing on your wellies, you unlocked the four deadlocks you had installed on your door one by one until you opened it wide, the valley blanketed in the darkness of the night, clouds shrouding the moon and stars. The shadows of the forest around your house made you more on edge, every trunk or branch causing your eyes to linger that moment longer to decipher what it was.

But they were just that.

Trees. 

You trudged around the side of the cottage, shoes crunching on the ground below as you made your way to the back. The icy air nipped at your skin, and you tugged the jumper that Lucy had knitted tightly around you. 

They were right, winter had come early this year. 

You would have to thank her later.

When you reached the electrical box, you tugged it open, shining the torch on all the different switches inside. 

The main switch was flicked off.

For fucks sake. 

The broadband must have blown it out. 

The cottage was old, and the electricals likely older. But the solar panel were new, and you had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps the different generations of technology were clashing. You briefly wondered how costly it would be to have someone come to rewire the house for you.

As you looked at all the other switches, making sure they all looked in order, and the wires coming from out the back were all in tact, you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

You never liked coming out here in the dark. 

It was scary, and although there was nothing out here to hurt you, unless there was a miracle lone pack of wolves that came strolling by, which you knew could never happen, since Lucy had told you wolves were hunted to extinction there. So it was just you, the trees and the moon. 

The sound of a twig snapping in the woods made you spin on your heel, shining the torch out at the trees in vain. The light didn’t reach very far, illuminating just the front row of trunks, leaving the rest to be bathed in its dense darkness. Your heart thumped in your chest as your eyes scanned the woods. 

It’s fine. 

It’s nothing. 

I’ve just worked myself up. 

Gods.

It was probably just a deer or something.

You remembered the day you woke up to a whole herd of deer outside your cottage one morning, quietly munching on the grass outside. You had nearly screamed with joy, but kept the excitement inside, tiptoeing to sit in your window nook and watch them graze. 

Holding the box open with one hand, you popped the small torch in your mouth with the other, holding it in your teeth as you flicked all the switches off, and then back on again.

You looked to the house. 

Still dark. 

You groaned, and did it again. 

Again, nothing. 

No hum of the motor kicking back on. 

“Third times a charm.” You mumbled with the torch in your teeth, flicking the power back on.

The steady buzz of electricity came back, and the lights from the house illuminated a path for you back inside. You all but slammed the box shut and sped back inside to the safety of your cottage, spinning quickly to shut the door behind you, rapidly locking it tight with the deadlocks. 

One, two, three, four.

You sighed a breath of relief.

See? Nothing. Just country electricals and wild deer.

You toed off your gumboots, hanging your keys on the hook beside the door. 

You needed a glass of wine. 

That would do it, a glass of wine and maybe some baking.

“Took me a while to find you.”

Ice ran down your back. Your heart leapt out of your throat as you spun on your feet, fear crashing over you. 

You blinked.

And there he was.

Standing in your lounge room. 

He had found you.

Aemond’s jaw ticked.

You were so in shock, so terrified that you couldn’t move, entirely rooted to the floor in place as your breath was caught in your throat. Your mouth opened as you tried to suck in air, head feeling light, but you couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t even let the scream out that clawed at the back of your throat. 

He had found you.

Aemond took a step towards you, dressed in all black, his long silver hair pulled away from his face in a braid, “I told you, I would see you soon.”

Instincts kicked in, and like a startled deer, you ran. Tearing down the short hallway to get to your room, where you knew the old shot gun Macnair had left behind was hiding beneath the bed. But Aemond was quicker, and you heard his loud steps before you felt him, grabbing you from behind as you kicked your legs back and screamed, trying to get out of his grip.

“Did you really fucking think you could get away from me?” He grunted, holding you impossibly tight, “That I’d ever let you go? It was just by chance that I saw you today, I didn’t even think to go to the markets.” He explained, and tears prickled in your eyes. 

You were right, you were being watched.

“But there you were. The Gods brought us back together again, Y/n. I was about to give up. But it was fate that our paths crossed again. It was meant to be.”

You thrashed against him, his arm locking around your chest and neck tightly. You turned your head and bit down on his arm, hard, tasting blood fill your mouth. Aemond hissed, tearing himself from your teeth as he dropped you to the ground, knees collapsing beneath you as you scrambled along the floor to get away.

“Fucking bitch.”

Pain rippled up your scalp as Aemond gripped you by your hair, throwing you back against the floor. Your head hit the wooden boards, eyes sluggishly blinking as the room spun and nausea curled in your stomach.

Your husband stood over you, sneering.

“You’ve been hiding out here for months whilst I’ve been looking for you. Having an affair with that other man who gave you the flowers.” Duncan, “Almost paid him a visit, but that can be done later. Spent all this time searching for my ungrateful cunt of a wife, but you didn’t hide well enough.”

His lone eye narrowed as he looked down at you, lips pulled back in a sneer. Strands of his silver hair had fallen from his braid and puffed with each breath as he stared down at you, chest rising and falling roughly.

You scrambled backwards, nails digging into the wood as he stalked forward, hunting you like prey.

“Money talks. And I have a lot of money. Which you would know, since you cleared out our joined account. Very naughty, Y/n.”

“Fuck you. Get out!” You screamed, kicking a leg at him.

Aemond laughed, dodging your kick, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my wife.”

“I’m not your fucking wife, you psycho.”

“No?” Aemond paused, cocking his head, “Then why are we still on the marriage register? Hm?” 

Your back hit the side of the bed, hands swiping underneath desperately in search as you kicked at him again. Aemond swatted your legs away with ease, smirking down at you meanly. But he couldn’t block your kicks forever, and your foot hit him squarely in his groin.

Aemond grunted, doubling over in pain.

You took your chance, desperate to escape as you crawled forward, away from the bed, dizzy and horrified, all instincts telling you to run, not fight.

Besides, you didn’t even know how to use the gun, let alone if it was even loaded.

You stood, side stepping him as you moved to run out the bedroom door.

Your head hit the wooden frame with a crack, smashed into it by Aemond’s large hand. Stars bloomed behind your eyes, pain shooting through your skull. You tried to catch yourself on the door, your nails digging painfully into the wood as you cried, the hand gripping your hair, pulling you back into the room. 

Aemond threw you onto the bed, looming over you, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment? To see you again? How hard it was to find you? And you’re acting like such an ungrateful little bitch.”

You grunted and cried, trying to get away, desperate to get yourself off the bed as he pushed you back on it. 

“Get off me!”

“But a husband needs his wife,” He leered down at you, pupil wide, “I’ve been dying without you, Y/n. I’ve been bereft ever since you left me. Abandoning me like a coward.” Aemond shook his head, “You could never really leave me. You’re mine.”

“I hate you!” You screamed at him.

Aemond smiled down at you softly, stilling for a moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked at him, “No you don’t.”

His smile dropped from his face in an instant, shadow cast over his scarred cheek as he looked at you blankly, “And if you do, I’ll make you love me again.”

His hands slid down your body, and began to tear at your pants, busting the button from your jeans, sending it flying across the room, then ripping the zipper apart. 

Sobs flew from your lips as you pushed up at him, desperate to make him stop, fear escalating within you, “Stop! Aemond. Stop!” 

Your fingers tangled in the bed sheets as you kicked at him, knuckles going white as you tried to drag yourself up and away from him on the bed, nails pulling sharply as you used every ounce of strength you had left. The room still spun as your head throbbed with every movement or jolt of your body.

Long fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your jeans and tugged them and your underwear down your legs as you struggled and cried and clawed at him.

“Been a while since you played this game with me.” Aemond chuckled darkly, “Do you remember when you used to pretend you didn’t want it? When you’d say ‘Stop! Please, no!’ and cum around my cock all coy?”

You blinked, memories erupting inside your brain. But those days were consensual, that was fun, something he had even introduced you to. But now? This? This was different. This was not a game. This was not play.

You kicked at his chest, heel clipping his shoulder sharply, a grunt falling from his lips. Aemond slapped a leg away, other hand gripping your thigh tightly. You cried out in pain as his fingers dug into your skin meanly, pain rippling up it.

Your hands tried to pry his fingers away, but the glinting of his wedding ring caught your attention.

He was still wearing it.

He ripped open his belt, and terror struck inside of you.

“Aemond, no. Please. Stop! Aemond stop, please!”

But all the man did was smile down at you crudely, “Gods, I’ve missed your begging. So sweet and small when you’d get on your knees and beg for my cock.” He pulled his length from his slacks, hard and angry, a drop of arousal smeared across his tip, “You’re so fucking beautiful. And you’re mine. My wife.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, thrashing beneath him as he crawled atop of you.

You dug your nails into his arms, trying to swipe at his face and neck, your teeth bared, ready to bite down onto whatever limb came into their collision course.

“Stop.” He growled, slotting himself between your thighs, overpowering you completely.

You sobbed beneath him, begging him to stop, screaming at him to get off, grunting as you twisted beneath the sheets, your head still spinning with small stars that continued to multiply in front of your eyes, the corners of your vision shrouded in black. 

In one final attempt, you went for what you knew would hurt him, what you knew would stop him, slow him down.

Give you time.

And so with the heel of your hand, you thrust it upwards into his face, connecting with his prosthetic eye, clipping the painful scar tissue that would sometimes wake him in the middle of the night in tears.

Aemond’s head withdrew with a sharp and pained cry, one palm pushing into his eye socket as he tried to calm the agony. You pushed against his shoulders, trying to move out from underneath, but Aemond was quicker, and his enraged gaze landed on you. The hand that had been pushing into his face, curled into a tight fist.

Your head whipped to the side, and a cool blanket of darkness washed over you. 

You laid in it for a while, with no thoughts, no terror, no fear, just that darkness that curled around you quietly.

It was nice for a moment, almost comforting.

Just the feeling of not being there.

But then the blanket faded away, and pain bloomed in your face, iron on your tongue as you blinked in confusion. 

There was movement and a weight atop you. Something sliding against your core. 

And then, pain.

You whined, hands shoving against the chest above you as Aemond speared you on his length, thrusting sharply and dryly into you as he reached his hilt, the tip of his cock pushing painfully against your cervix. 

You gagged quietly, head throbbing as the room spun, your arms weakly pushing at him, feeling as though they were made out of lead. Each movement of your body sent pain rippling through your skull, and bile into your mouth.

“Take it like a good wife.” Aemond growled, pulling his length out of you before thrusting it back in sharply.

You cried loudly, pain spreading through your core as you felt him tear at your walls.

He was always larger, much larger than anyone you had had before, and when you were together, he would have to spend ample time to prepare you, but you would always be wet to help. 

The only wetness you felt now, was from your own blood.

Aemond began a harsh and rough pace, with long sharp thrusts that jolted you up the bed on his length, cries of pain bleeding from your lips as you cried, turning your head away from him.

You still tried to push at his chest weakly, nails scratching at him through the dark shirt he wore, but it was no use. 

He grunted above you, picking up his pace, wrapping his hands around your neck for leverage. He squeezed, not tightly, but as a warning, and your eyes shot open to look up at him, hands clawing at his to try and get him to release you. The more you dug your nails into his skin, the more he tightened his hands until you were wheezing beneath him. 

“This doesn’t have to be difficult, you just need to give in, baby. Come on. Be a good girl for me. Be a good girl for daddy.” He groaned, one hand leaving your neck to pull up the soft woollen jumper to reveal your breasts to the room. 

Your nipples stiffened in the chill of the air, fireplace not having been lit yet and the cool of the early winter air seeping into the cabin.

“Fuck.” He hissed, hand coming to squeeze your breast roughly, pinching a stiffened peak between his fingers, rolling it through forefinger and thumb.

You whined in protest, hand trying to move his away.

Aemond lightly slapped your face, “Behave.” He accentuated with a hard thrust, another warning, sending pain shooting through your gut, “I’ll even let you cum. Be a good girl for me and I’ll let you cum, hm? Is that what my pretty wife wants?”

You shook your head weakly, tears overspilling from your eyes and down your cheeks, a sob working its way through your lips. 

Aemond bent down and licked the trail of tears from your cheek, “Fuck.” He moaned, thrusting into you faster, “Forgot how fucking tight you were. Gods. Gonna have to make up for time lost aren’t we? You’ve been such” Thrust, “A naughty” Thrust “Girl.” Thrust.

Your core clenched around him instinctually, Aemond adjusting his hips upwards so that his length would brush against the soft spongey spot within. His pace faltered, and a smirk pulled at his lips. Warmth spread through your gut.

“There she is.”

“No. Please, stop. Aemond, please. I’m begging you.” You wailed, hands gripping his arms as your nails clawed into him.

Your husband smirked down at you, “Not so cocky now that you’re mine again, huh? Where’s that bratty attitude from on the phone?”

Aemond continued to fuck at you from the new angle, one hand on your neck in a promise, the other pulling a limp leg up his hip, revulsion barreling through you as you found yourself growing wet from the angle, your body betraying you. 

The sound of your slick was loud in the room, adding to your shame. 

Aemond only tutted at you, “See? Only I can make you feel like this. Duncan would never be able to make you cum the way I do. No-one can. You’re mine. This pussy, is mine. And what I do with it is for me alone.”

The light in the room was too bright above you, making your head spin even more, the clapping of his hips against yours loud in your ears as his thrusts rocked your head and body backwards, a familiar coil beginning to wind in your stomach.

It was all too much. 

Even the smell of him overwhelmed you.

“Can feel you squeezing my cock. You gonna cum for me, baby?” He cooed, mocking you.

“P-Please st-op, Aemond. It h-hurts.” You sobbed.

“Oh it hurts does it?” The sneer was back, Aemond’s head leant down beside your ear as he pushed to his limit, your walls gripping him tightly, and whispered, “Now you know how it felt when you left me.”

You weeped.

“I hope it fucking hurts.” Aemond leant back, fucking into you with new found vigour, sitting back on his haunches as he pulled your hips onto him, the coil getting tighter and tighter. 

It was horrifying, to find your body finding pleasure from his assault, but you couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. He knew you too well. Knew your body too intimately. Knew everything that made you tick, twitch, or moan. He had spent hours, years, learning how to expertly map out your body, and he knew your body better than you did.

A slick thumb pressed down on your bud. 

“Come on, baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you cum on me. If you cum for me, I’ll forgive you, okay? You cum for me and I’ll know you love me back. Come on, be a good girl, cum for me.”

His thumb swirled roughly against your bud, your hands tightening around him, unsure if you were pulling him toward you or pushing him away. Your mind hazy and confused, the world having been turned upside down. 

You came with a cry, back arching off the bed as Aemond praised you through it, fucking into you harder and faster. Warmth spread through your limbs, your eyes scrunched tightly shut, bright lights behind them as your skull throbbed.

Aemond fucked your limp body, thumb leaving your clit as he held your hips with both hands, drilling into your wetness with a painful force, pulling agonising pleasure from you. 

You weeped below him, keeping your eyes shut as you just wished for it to be over. For him to just finish. 

“Gonna fill you up. Gonna fill my pretty wife up so we can have a baby. Hm, doesn’t that sound nice? Start a family.”

You sobbed loudly, hiding your face in your hands as you turned your head away from him, the taste of blood still thick on your tongue from where he had struck you.

His pace became sloppy, thrusts uneven as he began to lose himself to pleasure. 

“Fuck!” He hissed, thrusting into you sharply as he came, hot ropes of cum coating your walls as he thrusted weakly through his climax.

You chest stuttered with sobs, head spinning, but exhaustion taking over. 

You were so tired. 

So tired.

You just wanted to sleep.

Wanted to fade away back to that darkness again. Back to nothing.

“Shh,” Aemond hushed you from above, dipping his head to press a gentle kiss against your wet cheek and forehead, “It’s okay now. I’m here. It’s okay.”

You sobbed even harder.

Aemond pulled out of you with a hiss, a small whimper falling from your own lips as you felt pain strum through your brutalised walls. He flopped back onto the bed, dragging your body up beside him as though you weighed nothing, black blooming before your eyes as you knocked your head against the pillow, a wave of sickness rising inside.

But you didn't fight it. 

There was no point. 

No escape. 

Nowhere to go.

Nowhere to hide. 

You couldn’t run, even if you wanted to.

And so you laid in his arms as he held you whilst you cried, curling into him as the tears kept coming. He cooed at you softly, rubbing a gentle hand up and down your arm in a way he always used to. 

It was so stomach turning, the different sides of Aemond, and if it wasn’t for the concussion that you certainly had, his actions alone would send your head spinning. 

Because this Aemond, the soft Aemond, was the one you had known. The one who used to hold you to him, and whisper words of praise. But that was a long time ago, and the Aemond who held you now was a different man. 

Someone you didn’t even know. 

This Aemond was not the man you married.

Aemond pressed another kiss to the top of your head again, “It’s okay, cry it out. I know you’re sorry. And it’s okay. I'll forgive you. Alys was a mistake, but she’s gone now. She won’t be a problem anymore, okay? It’s just you and me.”

You sobbed louder, and he pulled you closer to him, tangling his legs with yours.

“I know, baby." He cooed sweetly, but it was insincere, hollow, cold, "I’ve missed you too. I love you so much, Y/n." Aemond exhaled hotly at the top. ofyour head before his voice fell to barely a whisper, "So much, you don’t know what I’m willing to do to keep you with me.”

A chill rolled down your spine. 

You knew now what he was willing to do. 

And with the added news of what he did to Lucerys, you wouldn’t put it past him to harm anyone that came between you again. 

A wave of mourning crashed over you. 

Mourning your past. 

Mourning your future. 

And mourning the person that you would become with him. There was no escaping this.

Him.

You inhaled his scent deeply.

He still smelt as he always did, but there was a lingering smell of pine in his clothes. The pines from the woods surrounding your home. 

How long had he been out there?

How long had he been waiting?

“You’ll love me again, I know it. I’ll never leave you again. We will be happy together. Here.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes wide against his chest.

“You’ve chosen the best spot, baby. You always were clever, we can start our family here. Somewhere quiet, no-one around. Just you and me, and eventually the children. Like it was meant to be.”

A shiver rolled through you.

“Marrying you was the best decision I made in my life.” He kissed the top of your head again, smoothing your hair down with his hand lovingly, “I’ll make you see.”

You laid there as you cried, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say. Having no real power over the situation, having no real way to escape or get out. If not for Aemond's sheer will, the four dead locks on the door assured it as well. He hummed softly as he let you cry, pain crashing through you in waves.

Aemond paused in thought, his thumb coming beneath your chin as he tilted your head to look up at him.

Your vision was fuzzy from the tears, and the edges were seeped in black, but you could see it. The crazed look in his eye as he gazed down at you with a hungry possessiveness. 

“Do you remember our vows?” He asked, watching as you blinked at him, your lip wobbling as you tried to stop the endless stream of sobs that worked their way up your throat.

His thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip, a sharp sting sparking in it as his finger brushed over the split.

And then he smiled at you, in the same way that he had the day of your wedding, lips pulled wide, teeth revealed.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him.

The man you had loved, the man you had married and planned a future with. 

The man you had been on the run from.

His mouth parted again, smile becoming softer.

“Til death do us part.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know on the general taglist post here :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[slttygeto]

╰┈➤ 12:01 ⋆·˚ ༘ *geto suguru‧₊˚.

[forever n then some] ➛ in which suguru is nervous to propose to you.

this is stupid, he knows he shouldn’t be so nervous about this. it’s you, the love of his life, the one he swore to spend the rest of his days with—but the time has come to ask you to be his forever, and it’s terrifying.

he doesn’t have a big thing planned, and now it seems like such a stupid thing. couldn’t he have planned something instead of nervously pacing around your kitchen while you took a shower?

he waited until you were done with showering and got into a fresh set of pyjamas before he went to the bathroom, and you didn’t suspect anything when he walked past you without commenting on how good you smell. you figured he was waiting for you to do your face mask first.

he places the ring where you can’t find it easily, opens the door to your bathroom (you had one in your bedroom, god bless) and watches as you walk in.

“you didn’t poop?” you ask so casually, hands reaching to open the faucet to wash them before applying your face mask. he laughs a little at how comfortable you are with him, i mean you have been dating for five long years, and he couldn’t have asked for anything better.

“no, turns out the food didn’t really hurt my stomach.” suguru leans against the door frame and watches as you listen to him intently. you’ve always been like this with him, so patient and gentle. the perfect lover despite all the hardships you guys went through (which were a lot).

“oh, i was gonna make you a herbal tea before bed. are you sure your tummy is all good?” you worry so much, you care so much and you love so hard. he wishes he could hand you the world on a silver platter.

“positive.” is all suguru says before he goes back to watching the rest of your night time routine.

you both laugh at something he remembers, you describe to him what you’re doing and the entire time he’s just nervously eyeing the sparkly jewelry laying so close to you, yet you seem so unaware of its presence.

“you look a little tense though, are you sure your stomach is fine?” you wipe your hands after being done with everything, and suguru nods before crossing his arms over his chest.

“i’m fine, it’s just— i think, i see something over there,” he nods his head towards it, and you’re confused for a moment.

“something? is the sink dirty or—“ and suddenly, you can see very well what that something is.

it’s…gorgeous, you almost hesitate to grab it. your hands are shaking, and you’re looking back and forth between the ring and suguru’s mischievous yet nervous smile.

“is this…?”

“I would’ve loved to plan something, to take you somewhere fancy and get down on one knee but—“ he pauses for a moment, his warm hand holding your wrist to pull you towards him.

“it wouldn’t have felt like us. I am not saying you’re not worth me spending money on you, or planning out something big…but i wanted to do something intimate for us, is that okay?”

you can feel yourself tearing up the more he spoke, the way this was all so thought through in a careful manner—to ensure that it feels like a moment shared between you both at first, before announcing to the world that you were finally getting married.

you choke out a sob, and your boyfriend (now fiancé) is pulling you in his embrace. those are happy tears, and you knew you had to get them out of your system.

“oh baby, i love you,” you sniffle, still staring at the pretty ring. suguru takes it out of your hold before getting down on one knee on your bathroom floor.

“so, will you marry me?”

[ reblogs ↻ + comments are appreciated]

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[sakkiichi]

ON WATERS SO INVITING.

Because tonight, neither of you can hold back from tasting the honeyed tea directly from each other’s lips.

ft. Wriothesley x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

what’s this? aya finally posting a fic? insert dramatic gasp. anyway, dedicating this one to @bunny-rambles @https-furina and @dearemilia <3 to my favorite wriothesley lovers, I hope you enjoy this, mwah !

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Notes of an herbal aroma fill the dim lit room.

Down here, it is sometimes difficult to keep track of time or the seasons, but the one constant that oftentimes keeps you sane are these meetings.

You are aware they take place once every week, just between him and you.

Steaming mugs are set atop the table separating you two.

Lately, you’ve started wishing the distance of it wasn’t there at all.

Softly clearing your throat, you place your hands around the warm cup. You take a moment to inspect its pattern, seeing how you had yet to encounter two identical sets.

You bring the liquid to your lips, taking the chance to briefly stare at the man before you while he focuses on some documents.

Unruly ebony strands stick out in different directions, somehow still managing to fall flatteringly over his face; sharp eyes, the color of starlit icicles scan over the pages, sharp jawline set, lips a taut line; your gaze travels lower still, helplessly getting lost in the contrast of black leather bands over the pale scarred skin of his neck.

Bitter. The tea you just tasted, but also the fact you have to pretend you two are just coworkers.

Although, sometimes, you thought he played you intentionally.

“Honey?” You ask, putting down your cup, beginning to stand up to get the honey jar from the adjacent shelf.

“Yes, dear?” Is the answer uttered in his baritone.

You scoff, frowning, as you place your hands on your hips.

“Wriothesley, I meant if you want honey for your tea.” You explain, tone pointed.

The warden puts down his paperwork, leaning back on his chair, that chilling gaze of his landing on you as his lips half curl into a devious grin.

“No, that won’t be necessary, thank you.” He says, that slight smirk still on his face.

You nod, returning to your seat, jar of honey in hand.

As you start mixing the thick golden liquid with your not-sweet-enough tea, you can still note his eyes on you.

It’s not that the feeling of the shiver his actions send down your spine is unpleasant per se, but you’ll start having trouble maintaining the composed facade if he keeps this up.

“Did you find anything interesting regarding the investigation?” You inquire, stirring your beverage.

Wriothesley leans a little forward, his own tea, untouched.

Strange; he was always the one to suggest you have some, after all.

“Yes to something interesting.” He states, resting his cheek on one of his hands. You swear those fingerless gloves of his are too distracting. “But it’s not related to the investigation.”

You raise an eyebrow, sipping on your finally sweet tea.

“Care to enlighten me, Your Grace?” You tease, as your honeyed lips tilt up in a grin.

The man chuckles, standing up from his seat, rounding the table towards where you are.

“I can enlighten you alright, if you’re willing to offer a little collaboration.” The Duke whispers, from behind you, lips almost brushing the shell of your ear.

You swallow, putting down your drink in fear you’ll end up spilling it with how fast your heart is hammering against your ribcage.

“Alright.” You choke out.

“Good.” He approves. With a swift move, he takes your hand, making you stand up too.

“Wriothesley, what are you doing? Your tea is going to get cold…” You try for a serious tone, but your voice comes out smaller than you would have liked.

“Hm? What was that? If I remember correctly, you wanted to know what I found, no?” Is his response, as he brushes some flyaway strands away from your face, his calloused thumb softly brushing over the pink of your lower lip.

“Wriothesley…” You utter, breathless.

“Shhh, don’t say a thing now, sweetheart.” He tells you, his face tilted to the side, one of his hands holding your chin, guiding your gaze to his, as the other cradles your cheek.

And those frosted sky eyes.

You may not be able to see the light blues painted by daylight every dawn from down here, but, right now, you’re pretty sure you prefer the shade of His Grace’s stare.

Who could blame you, for your next actions, when the distance between you suddenly vanishes and he’s reciprocating them?

You stand on your tiptoes.

And then, your lips collide against the Duke’s.

He kisses you back, more gentle than you would have expected.

Bitter and sweet flavors mingle in the annihilated space between you, as your fingers tangle in his dark hair and his hands grab your waist.

Wriothesley kisses you as if he’s drinking in the sunlight he’s been deprived of for ages; sweetly, tenderly, as if he was afraid this gold rush would disintegrate right before him; searing, the burning sensation of raw ice on bare skin.

And you can’t have enough of it, of him.

Months of yearning, of dreaming awake, finally realized in the burning of your lungs at the lack of air when his lips envelop yours.

Alas, his enlightenment only went so far for today, for the next thing you know, he’s pulling away, that same grin on his features once again, as you chase after the fading kiss.

An index over your lip’s cupid’s bow stops you, though.

“Found it interesting?” The man that currently has you on the palm of his hand questions, amusement laced through the lilt of his voice.

You reach a hand out, delicately running your thumb over the scar beneath his right eye.

He takes ahold of your hand, planting a lingering kiss on the back of it.

“Let’s find out more about it tomorrow, shall we?” The Duke utters, as he starts towards the door of his office. “By the way, that honey is very good.” Are his last words before he exists, eyes flitting from the jar to your lips.

And so, you stand there, alone and lovestruck, both your hands holding your burning cheeks as you contain a squeal.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

[mncxbe]

𝘾𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙚 𝙡𝙪𝙣𝙚○

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Why would I chase stars when the moon is right in front of me?

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ soft Dazai

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none♡

I often found myself coming to the building's rooftop after work, especially after a stressful day. I would simply gaze at the stars, tracing constellations with the tip of my finger while enjoying an iced tea; only me and the sounds of the city. It was my oasis of serinity amidst the chaos of everyday life.

Tonight was no different: the nightsky was clear, stars adorning the black sky and the moon was oh so bright. A gentle wind combed through the strands of my hair, lingering on my skin like the touch of a lover. I recalled the events of the day: Ranpo threw a tantrum after Atsushi ate his last lollipop, Kunikida yelled at everyone for not getting any work done, Yosano bought everyone matching bracelets from a store near the train station. It was an ordinary day at the office but it felt like a gift after the past week, which had been packed with missions and cases.

My train of thought was interrupted by a set of stept. I turned around, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear only to see Dazai approach me.

"Hey there. Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all" I replied, motioning him to take a seat next to me.

The man swiftly sat himself on the concrete floor one leg folded underneath him. His hands came to rest behind him as he slightly laid back, gaze fixated on the buildings in front of us. For a few minutes we enjoyed a comfortable silence but I couldn't help but worry a little. It was unlike him to be like this: not cracking a joke or whining about something.

"What brings you here?" I eventually asked.

"Can't a man simply enjoy his evening next to a beautiful woman?" he said in a playful tone. I tried to conceal the faint blush that rose to my cheeks after hearing his words but he had already noticed it.

He took a deep breath and chuckled, brushing some stray strands of hair off his forehead. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something. I've been meaning to tell you for a while but I thought it would be best to wait 'till things calmed down around the office."

Dazai paused for a second, checking for confirmation to keep talking and I nodded; my lips closing around the brim of my glass as I took a sip of tea.

"I wanted to ask if you'd like to go on a date with me."

"Sorry what?" I questioned, almost choking on my drink. My outburst only made Dazai laugh loudly.

"I asked you to go on a date with me." He must have noticed the look of scepticism on my face for he started talking again "I know I don't seem like much, always flirting with other women and all that, but I wouldn't bring this up if I wasn't serious about it."

"I don't doubt that, Dazai. I'm just surprised that you fancy me of all people." I was quite shocked by his confession, even more surprised that I didn't notice the obvious hints he gave me all along: subtle glances, lingering touches as he handed me a cup of coffee and always offering to pay whenever we went out.

Dazai smiled, his fingers brushing my cheek as he gently leaned in "Why would I chase stars when the moon is right in front of me?"

My lips parted but no words came out. The closeness between us was making me falter. He closed the distance between us, pressing his lips against mine. The hand that until then had been resting on my cheek slid to the nape of my neck as he pulled me closer to him, deepening the kiss. I closed my eyes, giving into him. He smelt and tasted like coffee, the bittersweet yet herbal flavour intoxicating my senses.

"Yes, Osamu. I'd love to go on a date with you"

When he eventually pulled away his eyes ghosed over my features. "Should I take this kiss as a yes?" he asked playfully. I placed an arm around his torso as I scooted closer to him; my head naturally resting on his shoulder.

"Perfect, bella"

We stood like that for a while, enjoying the serenity of the moment and for the first time in a while I was happy someone was watching the stars with me.

[onedaughterofman]

Writing Sessions #10 (Papa Emeritus II)

Summary: A curse has fallen on Secondo, and Primo does his best to help. Well, maybe it's not exactly a curse. No. For the first time in forever, Secondo is in love.

A/N: This was inspired by @dearlymrme headcanon. I thought it was amazing and so fitting! Hope you don't mind a little ficlet! Around 800 words.

I love how confused he looks in the gif.

“Remind me why you want this…”

In the candle lit room, Primo’s voice is a tired rasp. There is incense in his hands, an herbal conjunction simmering in a teapot. He is tired, of course, after a long day of tending to his clerical duties. Yet, he can’t deny the way his heart jumped in his chest upon seeing Secondo’s panicked gaze, the quick pace of his breathing.

“I told you, ” Secondo chokes out, still heaving for air. “I need urgent cleansing.”

Urgent. Primo surely hopes this is urgent. It’s three A.M, they both should be sleeping, but Secondo is panting and sweating, so something must be terribly wrong. Maybe he had a bad vision? Perhaps a gruesome epiphany?

Well, for waking him up in a frenzy, Primo hopes Secondo just witnessed the falling of the Ministry in flames and despair. “Don’t worry,” he replies, under his breath. His hands tremble with age, but his fingers manage to deftly move to organize all the necessary ingredients. “This will clean everything.”

“Do the egg thing too.”

Primo gathers another deep breath, cold air filling his lungs and burning in the way in. His brother is too demanding, extremely annoying at this time of the night. “Is there something worrying you in particular? I though you wanted a lighter cleansing, not a whole ritual.”

For long seconds, Secondo merely remains silent. His gaze is obscured by the shadows, head tilted towards the floor. Sitting on an old wooden chair, he looks small, almost like a child about to be scolded. “Someone put a spell on me.”

Now, that’s something to worry about. Primo’s hands halt, half way from reaching the tea pot. Without muttering a word, he reaches for the cups and pour some of the liquid in it, handing it to his brother. Secondo gulps it in one go, face scrunching at the taste. It’s not a surprise. That conjunction is incredibly bitter.

“Do you know who?”

“A Sibling,” Secondo replies, at last. His voice is harsh, words choked in his throat.

“A Sibling?” Primo repeats, gaze immediately falling on the other. He’s surprised, practically speechless. For a Sibling of Sin to ever think about cursing their own Papa… That’s something no one dared before. “Are you sure?”

“I am! That’s why I’m here, asking for your help. I think they put a spell on me. A strong one.”

“What are your symptoms? Tell me all you know.”

The old wall clock ticks slowly. Secondo talks, fast, words falling like a cascade. He can’t stop talking, and the more he tells, the more confused Primo feels. He blindly reaches behind his back, grabbing another chair and pulling it towards himself.

“I see them, I feel them… The sun falling on their hair, the fire in their gaze, the sound of their voice. It haunts me, day and night.”

“Their… voice? Do they speak?”

“They laugh! And it sounds… like a siren’s song. Alluring, charming.”

This time, Primo simply lets his brother continue on his own. Most of the words become a muffled mess at the back of his mind. Oh, how tired he is. Primo has become too old for this.

“Their eyes scorch my soul, I’m telling you! Am I… loosing my mind?”

Muttering a few curses in Italian, Primo lets his head fall into his hands. At least in this position, he doesn’t have to face his stupid brother. “Have you considered you might be in love with them?” He asks, finally. Secondo gasps, dramatically, almost falling from the chair.

“Me, in love? You know me, I'm not that type. Leave that shit to Terzo!”

“What you describe sounds like a crush, stronzo.”

“I sounds like a fucking hex!”

“Why would this Sibling hex you, anyway?”

“Don’t they take witchcraft classes here? Why wouldn’t they?”

Breathe.

Primo inhales again, retaining the air in his lungs before exhaling slowly through his mouth. “Che stai dicendo?” he mutters, again. The headache grows stronger. “Non rompere il cazzo”

This time, at least Secondo has enough survival instinct not to insists. He stays sat on the chair, arms tightly crossed on his chest. Again, Primo thinks he looks like nothing but a child, a confused and even scared one. A part of his heart, a very small one, feels sorry for him.

“I’ll do the egg cleansing too. Only this time, you hear me?” He warns, standing up. His joints creak, and complain. “If there is no hex on you, then you’ll have to accept this might be love.”

“I’d rather have the hex.”

Nodding, Primo lights up the incense and a white candle. “Yes, that’s probably better,” he says, palming the egg and walking the short distance that separates him from Secondo. “Love is a great curse, after all.”

ps: yeah i don't know. This brought back memories of being a child and going to my neighborhood's bruja for cleansings lol.

I had this on my drafts for a while and decided to post it for once. I've been busy lately so I don't think i'll be able to write anything new for a bit.

[dibbiedabbiedoobie]

You are so cute when you're flustered. You're all bothered, face hot to the touch. Apparently, talking about how much I'd like to feel you sliding down my throat, curling up in my belly is just a little too much. Nevermind that I'd done it plenty before; each time, you still got all embarrassed. It was adorable, really.

And you were always still interested. For the better, since I very much entirely planned to eat you, and would be a little bit put out if I couldn't. You liked it, I knew. You'd talked about it, how cozy it was, how safe you felt. It's part of why I was so eager about it. I loved you, and I liked doing nice things for you, and the best sorts of nice things are the ones that make me feel nice, too.

"Look," I purr, voice low so it rumbles in that way you like, "I'm just so hungry. You'll help me with that, won't you?"

You choke on air, but manage a nod. You're laid out on the couch, staring up at me where I stand. I'd been sitting, but found teasing you was much more effective when I could stalk around you. Now, I bend down, easing off your jacket. You're cooperative, letting me pull it off and set it aside. The rest of your outfit - a white turtleneck and a pair of gray sweatpants - shouldn't pose as much of a problem.

I look at you, sprawled out, staring back at me, and wonder how I should start. Maybe feet first, this time, so I can see your face. I think I'd like that. It isn't something we do often, either; the variety would be nice.

Gingerly, I stroke your cheek with a thumb; it's still hot, but less so. You were probably settling from your high, and I debate back and forth if I should wind you up again. In the end, though, I simply give you a chaste kiss on the forehead. "I love you," I say, a soft smile on my face. And I do, with my whole self.

You smile back. "I love you, too."

Then, I lick a line up the side of your neck. You taste herbal, almost like a rather sweet jasmine tea. "You're absolutely delicious. I'm going to enjoy this so much."

You choke on air again, struggling to get a response out as your trip over your own tongue. I chuckle, heading to the opposite end of the couch. As it turns out, I can be both sincere and a menace. It's very fun.

Gently, I take a hold of your ankles, pulling you a bit closer. "Is this okay?" I ask, just to be sure. Always to be sure.

You nod. "It's good."

Certain of your consent, I slip your feet into my mouth. You haven't been up and about much today, and had showered not long earlier, so there was less of the dirt from the floor and more of the jasmine tea.

I still don't dawdle, though; I am still hungry, after all. I swallow strongly, pulling your ankles into my mouth. Another swallow, and half of your calves are past my lips. I keep an eye on you, just to make sure you don't start to look uncomfortable before I get past a point where I can still let you out without finishing.

You don't look uncomfortable, though. More... serene. You aren't looking at me, more off in your own little world, but I don't think it's any sort of avoidance. You were always caught between engaging with me and spacing out while I swallowed you. I always wondered what sorts of things were running about inside your head during those times, but never got around to asking.

I keep a steady pace, pulling in the rest of your lower legs, then working up your thighs. Inside of me, I feel your toes poke into my stomach, slowly followed by the rest of you. It isn't too visible now, but will be, soon. The sweatpants don't taste particularly good, and they absorb too much water to not grate against my throat. Maybe I should have asked you to change into something lighter beforehand; I could do it, but I tended to forget that it wasn't exactly fun, either.

By the time I reach your waist, I'm able to rear back a bit, so the arm of the couch isn't forcing you into an awkward bend. That pulls your attention back to what I'm doing, and you meet my eyes with a look I can't quite place. It's something between affection and awe, I think, based on how you reach down to feel at my throat. It's swollen outward with your body, changing shape as different parts pass through.

As I continue gulping, I take the time to stroke your face again, just as tender as before. You lean into my touch, smiling in a familiar, content way. I would smile back, if my mouth were not stretched around you. Your belly passes my lips, then your chest. My midsection is bowed out with your legs, all awkward angles that suggest I made a meal of something inorganic. I suppose you won't get a chance to settle into anything comfortable until you're fully inside of me.

I stroke your hair, and you thumb the side of my face in turn. Your touch is kind and affectionate, and I wish I could relish in it a bit more. Instead, I gently nudge your arms above your head. With your shoulders a bit more streamlined, it should be a bit easier on my throat. You close your eyes, and I wonder if you hold your breath. Then, swallowing again, I pull your head and shoulders down into my mouth, then send them down into my throat. Now, with only your arms still out, I hurry more, eager to finally have you curled snugly in my gut.

Your upper arms, then forearms disappear down my gullet, leaving only your hands out of my mouth. Those, too, follow suit, and I close my mouth over your fingers. With a final, strong swallow, I send them down my gullet.

I sigh as my airway clears, grateful for the breath of fresh air. I lean against the couch, one arm bracing myself while the other heads down to my stomach. Steadily, it shifts and grows as more of you packs in, and I lay my hand on top of it. Beneath my fingers, my body works to settle you in, massaging you downwards, more and more. Finally, with a satisfied gurgle, you finish packing into my gut.

I sigh again, meal now complete. My stomach grumbles and groans as it adjusts to you, and a belch rises out of my throat - all the air you'd dragged down with you. I waddle and settle onto the couch, leaning back and letting you settle.

You squirm, moving until you're comfortable, and I pet at your back. "Good?" I ask.

"Good,” you reply.

I burp again, then lean my head back. God, you are so filling. Not like a regular meal; it's more of a... bigger full. A different sort of scale than I'd talk about a large dinner. It feels wonderful.

My shirt has ridden up, and at this point I wonder if I should just do this without one. My stomach is swollen and distended with you, settled between my spread legs, clearly fully of a person. Or, at the least, full of far more food than should be humanly possible. I liked it, the way it displayed you to the world. Hidden beneath my skin and muscle. Mine, in a place where people can look but not touch. Of course, there isn’t anyone in our home, but I like the idea anyway.

For now, my insides continue to mumble and mutter about you. It always takes a while for them to settle down, to make sense of the hundred-odd pounds of indigestible meat I've given it to hold. You don't mind, luckily enough, and I tune it out. Instead, I focus on carefully petting you, pressing my fingers into your back and rubbing small circles into it.

I feel you lean to it, or try to. My gut very quickly squeezes at you again, still trying to get you magically transform into something less ridiculously oversized. I just adjust. pressing a bit harder. The massage feels nice for myself, too, easing tense, sore muscles. I'd been busy today, and being pushed aside to make room for you left parts of my already strained body feeling uncomfortable. Not that I really minded or noticed, though; it was hard to, through the haze of a food coma.

I like to think that I was never prone to post-meal naps, but it’s always really hard to stay awake after eating you. I suppose that was the difference between a salad and a steak and an entire person. I feel it tug at me, but resist for now. I don't like to fall asleep before you do; I don't want you to have to squirm and fight me to get my attention because I'm unconscious. That, and I want to bask in this feel-good fog. There aren't many thoughts, really, beyond how nice I feel. How nice you must feel, how you're so close to me, how I love you so much.

After a short while, though, I notice you aren't holding yourself up anymore. I give you a poke, and you stir a bit, but don't wake. You're asleep. It isn't surprising, really. You always fall asleep, but it was rather fast this time. I hope you rest a bit better than you must have last night, to be so sleepy.

I guess there isn't much of a reason for me to stay awake now, either. Lucky for me, given that I'm having a harder and harder time staying awake. My stomach has settled, and I suppose it would like me to rest so it can get to work trying and failing to digest you. I can't say I'm exactly opposed, either.

Briefly, I consider moving to a bedroom, then decide that moving is beyond me right now. I'm comfortable, and you're asleep. My back might complain, but that's future me's problem. For now, I push it out of my mind, and close my eyes.

[eremiie]

Fic where y/n has a threesome with Levi and eren😗

can you finish these papers?

❥ 8k words | nsfw | levi x reader x eren

❥ you have some work to finish but you also have somewhere to be, so what’s the harm in handing it off to eren? only, eren ends up needing help with your work, and both eren and levi decide to help you out.

❥ content: threesome, double penetration (vaginal/anal), choking, lowkey cuckolding but not really, slight praise kink, semi-public sex

❥ note: i actually made one back in december so i will simply give that to you now, enjoy <3

"eren!" you called for the brunette, watching his body turn around just before he rounded the corner of the complex, a small smile gracing his face at your figure. you ran up to him, his arms wrapping around your small frame before you could topple over him.

"hey, slow down." the fabric of his button up crinkled the stack of papers in your hand in the slightest before you picked yourself up. he took it upon himself to draw you in closer engaging you in a brief hug before letting you go, causing you to smile at the small gesture. "why are you running?"

"oh, i wanted to catch you before you went to the cubicles." you bit your bottom lip, slightly embarrassed at the fact that you in fact we're running around an office complex to catch him. "i needed you to sign off these papers, and then finish up the rest for me, some of them aren't in my field but i was given them anyways." you held up the papers to your chest and dropped them, eren's eyes following. he took in your appearance; you were wearing a blazer one piece, as if it was a skirt and a blazer warped into one in the bright shade of white, the fabric coming down to a little more than above your knee. trailing down your legs you had a medium handbag in your left hand in a black color that matched your heels.

you were so gorgeous, is what he thought to himself. you never failed to dress to impress at your job, and he never failed to miss greeting you in the morning's when you would come into the building, your normal routine was you and him making coffee together, and on the days you were late he'd make yours for you, cold brew with caramel flavored creamer and a teaspoon of sugar every time. he liked you, but he didn't realize it until one day armin pointed it out to him.

you were seated with him at a meeting, and eren couldn't stop staring at you, the only person seeming to realize being armin, the intelligent coworker of yours that you seemed to only see time to time, and mikasa who was very observant in general; especially with eren.

"you like her!" armin squealed at eren after the meeting during your break. mikasa didn't fail to give a disapproving look at eren, during the ordeal.

"you do. but i'm not surprised. you don't even know her. you only like her for her looks, eren." she added on to armin's comment, eren furrowing his eyebrows at his coworker.

"i don't like her, i just think she's nice guys, and i actually have talked to her, multiple times, so i don't just like her for her looks, mikasa." he crossed his arms and mentally waved the two off. "you don't even know if we talk or not, you're in the complex over." his irritation was clear and he was beginning to walk off, mikasa hesitant to follow.

"eren if you like her that's okay! i'm all for it, and if you want a," armin nudged eren's shoulder playfully with a joyful smile. "wingman i can help you out."

eren grimaced at armin and pushed his arm down with a shake of his head. "armin stop, i don't need a wingman, i don't like her, and i don't need you trying to watch who i talk to mikasa." eren's voice raised in the slightest causing mikasa to step forward in front of armin. she looked down at her watch on her wrist and looked back up to eren with a motherly expression. "break is over in five minutes. let's go."

eren muttered something inaudible under his breath but let mikasa push him forward by the small of his back with armin trailing behind so they could leave the small break area.

so yes, he did like you, and only realized and admitted it to himself after that day, yet he would never admit it to his friends. mikasa would constantly be on his ass about every little thing and armin would try to gain intel on the relationship in retrospect. seeing you genuinely made his heart warm, and he was never afraid to be more than touchy with you, yet he didn't know exactly what move to make.

"yeah, i can do that. do you need them by a specific time?" he grabbed the papers from your hand, letting his brush against your dainty fingers for a slight moment, and he loved the way you grinned at him.

"no, no take your time, bring them by whenever. i have something to do anyways so please, take your time." he nodded his head at you.

"no additional information i need to know? nobody specific to give these to or anything?"

you didn't really think about your response, just wanting to get the papers off your chest. "nope, it's all in the papers, do whatever you want or whatever it says, you're the man."

he chuckled and held the papers up to confirm to you that he'll get everything done for you, despite his own workload. "alright, see you later then?"

"yes, of course, i'll see you later, eren, thank you so much!" and you were off as quick as you met up with him, heading over to the elevator, him watching you leave.

eren couldn't stop smiling to himself on his way to his own office, it was on the same floor as yours, yet the two of you weren't walking together. he assumed like you told him, you had something important to do and that's why you left some of your papers off to him, as the two of you were in the same business field in general compared to others like armin, mikasa, who were in the building next door.

finally, eren was sat at his desk skimming through the papers you gave him. he made two piles, one of papers he simply needed to sign off and transmit to someone above him, most likely the line manager, maybe the director or counselor, and another with work you actually left him to complete for you. mostly phone calls, documents to file and appointments to schedule. he sighed to himself and decided to just sign off the papers to pass on quickly, maybe he'd even be able to stop by your office on the way back to let you know he did some of the work and spark up a conversation.

meanwhile, you were making your own way to another office. you knocked on the door a few times, a small smirk on your face already.

"come in." the voice like silk answered and you wasted no time opening the wooden door.

"levi, hello." you hummed with the same grin you gave eren, just earlier. you closed the door behind you and watched levi study you briefly, rolling his chair out from underneath his desk. his eyes glanced from his desk to you and then back to his desk, getting up and grabbing miscellaneous items, going over to place them on a shelf so it was clearer. "always the clean freak." you scoffed stepping closer until you were right in-front of the plain desk, your fingertips brushing the surface that you've been fucked over countless times. you bent down and placed your purse onto the floor beside his desk. "did you miss me?"

levi went back to sitting down, giving you a one over, taking in your appearance as well. if you were to say so yourself, you were proud of your attire as well, it was giving you a confidence boost, and you got compliments when you wore it almost every time, not to say you wore it a lot.

"heichou? why are you ignoring me?" your voice was flirty. he still hadn't spoke a word to you, yet you knew he was fine with you being here, more than fine. you weren't genuinely being a nuisance, you just wanted to rile him up a bit. you and levi were always like this, not many people spoke to him, as a matter of fact you can't recall much people being willingly enough to talk to him. he was more threatening then the manager, erwin. yet your curiosity didn't fail you when you took a shot at him. both you and hange didn't let his sly remarks, or his little choice of words scare you away, or the death glare he'd shoot in your directions make you shy away from him, and maybe he enjoyed that a little bit.

but the difference between you and hange was your relation to him. an amazing friend you were to him, he even willingly gave you his number when you asked. you nor him were one hundred percent positive on how the situation came to be but you could remember (and you were sure he could too) the first time it happened.

after the first time, every once in a while you and levi would participate in sultry endeavors. you had him wrapped around your finger and you might've been the first girl to at that, although he had you wrapped around his too. not to mention the couple times the two of you didn't fail to fuck at work, levi always feeling more guilty than you after. it was a way to relieve stress for the two of you, and even if you wanted to, you doubt levi would allow you to get any closer to him than you were, not that it bothered you. he was like an onion, lots of hard layers to try and cut through, even after being so close with each other. you never asked why either, his feelings seeming to deep to dive in, and a little much for your carefree self to handle.

"the nicknames not working either?" you strode over and slowly placed yourself in his lap, making sure there were no signs of rejection or anything that would indicate he wasn't in the mood. your legs now were swung over either side of him and your head was leveled with his. "can i?" small fingers brushed up the side of his face, and he involuntarily stiffened in the slightest, even after so many sessions.

he locked his eyes with you and let you lean in to connect both of your lips, a sweet taste of his earlier tea still on his tongue, and only then did he finally place his hands on your lower back, bringing you forward and letting your hips meet his fervently. you tasted of coffee and it blended in perfectly with the herbal taste of his mouth that you swallowed up. moving your hands from his face to his neck, your arms hung over the back of the chair. you pulled back to catch your breath.

"so you're just playing hard to get today?" you smirked, placing your hands over levi's own hands. "do you want to make this quick? i'm not really busy today but how about you?"

finally, levi spoke to you for the first time that evening; "just a meeting with erwin near the end of the work day, in a couple hours."

"you couldn't go a couple hours if we wanted to." your playful remark didn't go unnoticed, and neither did the way he pinched your sides harshly, a yelp coming from your mouth as he picked you up and sat you on his desk.

"only because your shitty ass would be passed out after a few rounds." his eyes gleamed slightly at your charming expression after his joke that made you laugh. you threw your hands back around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, happy with the way he kissed you more excitingly this time. your tongues and lips danced in a hungry manner and he could feel the happiness radiating off of you. after all it has been a while since you last got to have time with the man.

you trailed your kisses downwards, letting them meet his sharp jawline and then even further until you pecked his adam's apple, it bobbing under your warm lips, and then further once again until they were met with his collarbone. his hand flew to your hair as you continued your administrations, biting and sucking at the thin skin surrounding his collarbone, him holding back his groans, although you could imagine his expression; eyebrows pinched together and his mouth hanging open in the slightest.

deciding to help him out a bit, his suit jacket was thrown off his shoulders onto his chair earning a hard glare from you and you quickly unbuttoned the rest of his white button up until his chest was revealed, giving you the opportunity to run your fingers around it. "hm, pretty."

his smell was distinctive, his signature cologne which you remember asking him the name for but you couldn't recall. it was a french name, something along the lines of 'de chanel', but your mind was becoming foggy and you didn't have time to remember the name at the moment.

"slow down." levi's muttered. "take off that thing." a look of amusement crossd your face, your upper lip perking up and your eyebrows raising. you slowly began to unbutton your buttons one after the other, fully aware you didn't have a bra on underneath your selected outfit; of course not for any particular reason. you just thought it looked simply better without it.

"what? the blazer dress?" and levi held his stern look with you, clearly he could care less about what the piece was called, and he helped you unbutton the remaining buttons letting it fall from your front and rest on your shoulders. he admired your figure, letting his hands ghost over you soft breasts before running his hand down your abdomen and resting them on your hips. his fingers dipped under the band of your underwear, the material nothing special, probably a cotton blend, then he let the pads of his index fingers rub against your hips before pulling them down and folding them to place on his chair. you rolled your eyes. "was folding them really necessary?"

"be lucky i'm even about to bend you over this desk and not making you clean up the mess you're gonna make."

you held your hands up in mock defense, eyelids raising in fake surprise at his comeback, but soon after your eyelids rose in real shock at the feeling of one of his fingers entering you, slowly becoming two. doing it yourself never hit as much as his fingers felt, they fit so effortlessly and made you feel squeamish. you lifted your head up in the slightest to watch him pump the digits in and out your cunt slowly, and clearly on purpose.

you laid back down completely groaning in response at the way his fingers seemed to itch at every right spot inside of you, yet it wasn't enough when you knew that you could have more, that you were going to get more out of him. you lifted your legs up as far back as you could without scooting your upper body off of the desk. you were laying the opposite way the desk was turned so your head hung off slightly, but you didn't mind with the sensation surrounding you.

"fuck, can you go faster maybe?"

"be patient, brat." levi spit back at you quickly, causing you to roll your eyes, but he didn't take that as an answer, curling his slender fingers up until they hit a soft spot, you sucking in a breath. you spread your legs a little more and began to grind down on levi's hands as much as possible to try and create more friction between the two of you, specifically for your own pleasure. you wondered if he was enjoying watching you sprawled out on his desk like this.

of course he was.

you didn't even realize how much he was enjoying it until you opened your eyes to watch the way his bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, and the way his freehand was palming at his self. he was watching you such a lewd expression that you would never catch any other time, and it only grew when you fluttered your eyes at him and let out another moan to draw him in more. in fact, he was so caught up in the moment that his brain was on autopilot, whenever someone knocked on his door his response was always for them to 'come in', and that's how the next moment played out; his brain moving on its own while his fingers were working inside of you.

"sir?" a low voice startled you, but not so much levi as he was so caught up in the moment.

"come in." he said, just like he said to you when you first walked in, but he realized his mistake soon after, yet it was too late. "wait,"

the door was already opening, and heavy footsteps entered the office. "sir, i have pap-"

green eyes locked with yours first thing, and the way your face was contorted in pure pleasure and how your eyes were framed on his sent shivers as well as shock down his spine. surprisingly, you weren't as embarrassed as you thought you were supposed to be because it was him, although you were in an awkward position and levi was clearly flustered and angered at the same time.

"eren..." you mumbled, he appeared upside down from the way your head was looking off the desk, eren in front of you but a distance away.

eren stood there an unreadable expression on his face, but you could see anger through his movements, translated through the way he gripped the papers in his hand a little harder than usual, the paper folding under his hands. or maybe by the way his left eyebrows would twitch, hm, or maybe the slight glare that you couldn't tell who it was directed at.

levi on the other hands anger was way more evident, his face red from either the activity at hand or at how flustered he was. his fingers were stilled in you but they were still curved and rested against your g-spot a little harshly while his other hand stabilized him on the table. "jaeger,"

"i had some papers to drop by." he slightly cut levi off, which wasn't usual... why wasn't he leaving as soon as he witnessed what was going on? as a matter of fact, you were slightly worried on why you were the calmest one in the room although it was you who was upside down on with your tits hanging out and a finger between your lips.

"get out." levi hissed, nails digging into his palm as his fist sat on his desk, beside your phone. but that wasn't the only thing painful, not to mention his dick straining against his dress pants.

eren attempted swallowinh down his slight irritation and frustration, instead letting his gaze flicker down back to your body. he struggled with watching your chest heave up and down, clearly aching for this to be over so levi could keep going. the way the white fabric of your dress was draped across your shoulders yet revealing of everything in between, and the faint scent of sex lingered in the room. your finger playing with your lip and your legs spread open for... levi, was simply a sight.

he wished that was him.

he couldn't be mad at his line manager, he was the one who dictated how well he was doing to the actual boss, he was the head of the branch that you and eren were under.

"why are you still standing there brat? get out." levi's eyes were dark yet he refused to make eye contact with eren, who huffed in a breath and turned towards the door.

he thought for a minute.

"i'll tell."

you and levi's eyes slightly widened, you raising your eyebrow at his sudden demeanor. his voice was a bit lower and he was still facing the door, a bit spacey if you asked yourself.

"ere-"

"let me join."

you snickered in amusement. of course you'd be the one taking the biggest toll but if you were being honest it didn't bother you that much. you liked the thrill and anticipation of the possibility of being caught, and eren was cute, always a sweetheart to you and looking out for you and your work. he was the reason you could divide your work load. why not reward him? in all honesty, if he were to make a move on you independently you probably wouldn't have been one to say no. levi on the other hand...

"i'll tell erwin that you're in here fucking a staff member." this was light for eren, he really wanted to yell at levi for being the one to have you a mess under him, and wanted to be angry at you because you were allowing it to happen, his jealousy was definitely getting the best of him, and he was sure levi would probably beat his ass later for even making the proposition. he felt like a little kid, and felt even worse for the subtle blackmail. it felt stupid to even be asking for such a request, i mean he would never really tell, he just wanted to get a feel of you, feel you around him any which way.

"eren." levi's head lowered further. "i'm going to kill you."

eren's lips creeped up into a small smile. he took that as acceptance and he closed the door, this time locking it for levi and walking forward towards the desk. his smile was slightly reciprocated by you, feeling excitement rush through your body. sure you've been with a lot of people and were slightly know for being an overly friendly person, but a threesome? never.

despite levi's stiff form, still still fingers, and the annoyance seeping off of him eren wasted no time unbuckling his belt in front of your face. the hem of his black button up falling out of his pants as they dropped to the floor, his boxers going along with them.

"doesn't really matter to me if i can feel her pretty lips around my mouth."

oh, how bold of him.

you clenched. yup, yes you did, and you were sure levi felt it, your walls fluttering around his fingers at eren's choice of words. he was hung right in your face and you strained your neck a little bit to push back on the table so you could get a better position for him. he looked down at you still seemingly irritated but a little excited. he caressed his fingers under your jaw, his thumb pulling down on your bottom lip.

"can you open up for me, please?"

your smile was evident now. levi wasn't very vocal during sex as far as you knew, so the exchange and opposition in personalities was a new experience for you. levi began to move his fingers again as you hummed in response  and opened your mouth for eren. he slipped his dick into your mouth flawlessly and the angle helped your throat open up much more, not that you had trouble with that anyways.

eren's groans were so pretty, the feeling of your mouth circling him was heaven sent and he had to support himself with the table while he settled in your heat. "fuck," he moaned out while trying to reach the back of your throat only for a split second before letting you do your thing.

"you're gonna have to shut the fuck up. i'm not getting caught because of your shitty ass." levi's pumps were slower now, and you continued your grinding to get him to speed up while trying to cater to eren who was too in bliss to even care about levi's remark.

"mm," was eren's response and it made you laugh around him sending small vibrations up his cock, causing him to gasp and his hand to fly back up to your jaw, massaging your chin unconsciously. you were having slight trouble breathing and all you could see from your angle was the floor and the inside of eren's thighs, his skin a pretty tan, but in all you decided to close your eyes to enhance your pleasure and eren's.

levi began to quicken his pace in a rough manner, adding a third finger and continuing his administration's, using his freehand to fumble with his own pants and belt until they collapsed from around his waist while he abused the sweet spot inside of you. more moans continued to spill from you and eren began his own pace inside your mouth simultaneously while levi pushed to make you cum.

eren's free hand snaked from your jawline to your throat and he essentially used it as leverage while he slipped in and out your mouth, almost slipping out completely then pushing as far as he could every time. spit dribbled down the side of your face from your position and his assault and you silently prayed it didn't get in your eye. "this shit feels so good," eren groaned, his eyes closed as he basked in the pleasure you were giving him, using you as he pleased. "this is what i was missing out on? this is what he got to do?" he rambled on and levi glared at him while his words barely processed in your head as you focused on trying to breathe.

"shut up, you're gonna turn me off." levi continued to go faster and you could feel the warm sensation building up in your lower stomach, your legs aching from their position, continuously open as far as they can go so you could feel his nimble fingers inside you as deep as possible. you knew your legs would be cramped and feel like jelly later.

a whimper elicited from you while eren used your throat, and eren laughed at levi, yet he couldn't tell if he was being serious or not.

your legs were beginning to shake and you used your free hand to rub your clit but levi's hand grabbed your wrist before you could help yourself to an orgasm. "no. you really think i'd let you get off that fast?" you whined but it was slightly covered by the gags eliciting from your throat as eren got rougher, hand closing in around your neck and you could feel his fingertips tightening around it. he also seemed to relish in the feeling of your throat bulging the deeper he went, causing a mantra of curses to leave his own throat.

once you calmed down a little on levi's end he continued to go faster again, this time your wrist to your side pinned by his hand. he was doing it on purpose, hitting that sacred spot inside of you repeatedly while watching your actions to determine whether or not you were close, by the way your legs would push further out, or the way you would arch your back, or even the feeling of you tightening around him in anticipation for something bigger, then he would pull out and relished in the whine that would leave your mouth every time.

"ev... ah..." his name sounded so distorted coming from your mouth when you had eren filling your mouth up.

"he can't hear you like that, sweetheart." eren taunts, pulling out and and rubbing the head of his dick against your swollen lips. "what is it?"

"i can't, i need to cum." you pleaded, raising your head up so that you could see levi's fingers inside of you preparing to get you close to your high for the umpteenth time. eren stared in admiration at you and at your begging expression.

"tch, help him finish first so i can fuck you." levi was relaxing now that he was in too deep, and you could tell. he seemed to be enjoying putting you right on the edge, or maybe he was punishing you for eren's arrival, but that was in no way your fault. you sighed impatiently and laid your head back down so eren could slip back in.

"you want me to make this quick for you?" eren's hand was on your cheek now with a look you'd give to a crying newborn baby, almost as if he was in awe, maybe pity, or maybe he was patronizing you. you weren't used to being so submissive to one, let alone two people, so you were surprised at how rapidly your responded, a fast nod to the head. "'m gonna use that pretty throat of yours for a few more minutes, alright?" another hum in response to eren and you closed your eyes again in anticipation, deciding to ignore the spit and lewd noises while levi added a fourth finger but went pretty slow.

eren pushed into your throat again and stayed as deep as possible for a couple seconds. "shit," he furrowed his eyebrows before pulling out and then repeating the process. "i'm close, i'm so fucking close." you helped push eren over the edge by attempting to swirl your tongue around his dick and hollowing your cheeks. the last time he pulled out you chased him, your lips puckering around his head and sucking. he went in once more and you licked up a specific vein that lined the side of his cock and then he spilled in your mouth. "oh, fuck, fuck!"

you sat up as he pulled back and propped yourself up on your elbows, forcing yourself to swallow his seed, as you were at work and didn't want too much of a mess to clean up. plus levi would've probably killed you, already seeming upset. although, levi kept to his word, he clicked his tongue and pumped his fingers in and out of you hard and fast again to build that pressure back up, letting go of your wrist to rub at your clit and not forgetting the spot that made your eyes rolls back and your stomach curdle until you yourself were coming as well with a too loud moan, that you prayed the others in the building didn't hear. "levi!" you called out, his name leaving your lips flawlessly causing his lips to part with a sigh and your juices coating his fingers. he pulled his fingers out from you and your and eren were both mesmerized by the amount of slick that gave his fingers a shine.

although the site in front of him was beautiful, eren was jealous that that wasn't his name coming from your lips like that.

and levi was irritated he was still untouched.

"my turn." levi grumbled, as you sat up your chest heaving up and down. you were sure you looked a mess, dry saliva and cum all over your face, and your throat left dry and abused, not to mention you didn't even want to know what your hair looked like. you lifted yourself off the counter and threw the dress blazer that was under you onto the floor, and swore you saw levi twitch, probably contemplating whether or not to ruin the moment by folding it or something.

"awe, heichou was being patient. that's a first." you joked, and eren came around and sat up onto levi's desk in your previous spot letting you lean back onto him while he was trying to catch his own breath after such an intense orgasm. he was slightly confused by the nickname but it gave him the impression that this has clearly been going on for a long time. "so what do you want me to do, boss?"

with another click of his tongue levi opted to show you instead of tell you. you turned around as levi lined himself up while you stood facing eren for support as he sat in front of you stroking himself and deciding to just watch for now, still surprised he was even getting to have an experience with you.

"then i'm gonna fuck you." you gasped as you felt levi rub against your folds and then enter you bottoming out at once. he's been inside you so many times yet every time still felt somewhat new and refreshing. he fit so perfectly inside of you like a glove and you loved the way it felt every time. you sighed in relief when you felt him buried to the hilt and eren's hand tightened around himself at the noises coming from you. he was studying your expressions well, knowing that he'd embed in his mind the noises and faces you were making for later.

eren brought his hands up to your face and pulled you in for a kiss to swallow up your sounds. "you know you did so good?" he praised you using his thumbs to rub your ears before kissing down to your neck. "that's the best head i've gotten in a while."

your mouth dropped open and you let out the quietest "eren," as he pulled you closer and levi fucked you harder; he wanted to hear 'levi' not 'eren'. eren relished in this though and sucked at your neck, sandwiching you between the two boys, you using eren to hold onto, and levi drilling you.

"yeah, i like when you say my name like that." you couldn't help but notice how expressive he was, and you loved it. his lips formed those words against your skin and you grasped onto his black button up to hold yourself up some more. eren let go of your face now having a free hand to go back to stroking himself. he watched as your eyes fluttered and struggled to stay open, and levi loved the way instead of your eyes, your cunt fluttered around him. his grip on your hips was strong and his fingertips were going to leave some type of imprint in your skin. the sound of skin slapping against each other was so apparent and a turn on for eren.

"hey," eren let go of himself and connected your lips once more before leaning in towards your ear. "you think you can take two people?" his voice was low, almost like a whisper but loud enough that levi heard it too, causing him to stutter in his movements at the thought and you to have a mini double take as well.

"oh fuck," you sighed resting your elbows on eren's knees while your chin rested against his shirt and you opened your eyes to look up at him.

"if you can't let me know, no pressure." his smile was warm, too much like the same grin he gave you earlier when you handed him those papers. one of his hands pat the top of your head before raking the rest through your locks and then tugging on your ponytail slightly. "i'm just curious to know how much you can take. you've been such a slut today... i didn't know you were like this." your head was jerked to look more up at him causing a strain on your neck and you let out a small mewl in response.

levi looked up at you trying to determine what your response meant while eren caressed your jaw again, something he seemed to really enjoy. it made it feel more intimate for him and gave him the slightest hope that he could have a little more of you another time.

"how?" you mumbled against him. eren's hands cascaded down your back until his ring finger prodded at your hole causing it to clench slightly making him chuckle.

"well i'll be here," and then his hand groped your ass before bringing it back up and kissing you once more. "and he'll be there."

"i... i can try?" your audible response was more of a question and it was mainly the result of the way eren stared down at you. gosh were his eyes absolutely gorgeous, the closer you were to him the better they were to look at even through the blur of your eyes from the sensations around you. emerald green rimmed by a jade with flecks of the ocean littering his eyes. as a matter of fact his whole face was gorgeous, his brown hair swept back into a half assed bun with strands of hair sticking to his forehead was still attractive to you somehow even though it looked like he didn't try at all.

"hm, sir?" eren looked up, his 'sir' coming off as more mockingly and levi's infamous glare wasn't afraid to look at eren again. "it's what she wants."

"are you sure this isn't for your own fucking fantasy?" you assumed levi's comment was a joke but his tone was too serious to tell, so eren brushed it off as well as you. "come here." levi pulled out and hesitantly sat back in his own chair. "get on top of me." you obliged and crawled into his lap, lining the two of you up again and having him bury into you all the way again.

"you don't have... anything, right? to help her?" eren asked reluctantly but he wanted to assure no harm would be done to you. levi shook his head and gave eren a look that screamed 'why would i carry lube at work?' yet it was a stupid look considering he was in the process of fucking his coworker at work as well.

eren came up behind you rubbing your shoulders and neck chastely, speaking again in a low tone; "we're gonna take this slow." he turned your head towards him as you leaned more against levi so eren could get a better angle and kissed you softly before collecting precum from his tip and smearing it on your entrance then letting his spit beside it before slipping one finger into you. you tensed up in the slightest and pulled away from eren's lips. eren could feel the added pressure from you and pouted. "you have to relax or this won't work." you were sure his response was trying to be reassuring but it came off as more angry.

"okay," you relaxed your body and levi pulled you closer to him not even recognizing the fact that he pecked you a kiss instead. "someone's jealous." you joked as eren slipped a second finger beside the first, levi tensing up himself at the strange feeling of eren's fingers being felt through the thin tissue that separated your two holes. you stiffened yourself in the slightest at being pushed to your limit. levi grumbled something inaudible and peered down at the site, slightly intrigued but doing a good job at hiding the fact.

"can i add a third one?" eren asked after you were more calm. he spit again so it wasn't dry. you hesitated for a minute before nodding your head and anticipating the new stretch. you weren't gonna lie, it slightly burned but it was a good burn, a sexual pain. eren slipped in his third finger even slower than the first two and marveled at the way you were taking up so much, rubbing your back encouragingly and pecking various upper body parts to keep you calm while levi himself was struggling with the added pressure, just holding you in his lap and trying not to thrust into you.

slowly eren pumped his fingers and he ached for it to be his dick instead. maybe another time he'd be able to get you by yourself and get to fuck you properly, he could only hope.

"i think i can do another one." your tone was shy as you cradled against levi's chest, quite flustered.

"oh? okay." eren responded before repeating his process of spitting and adding another finger slowly so you could adjust. one thing eren and levi could agree on was how well you were doing. his fingers pumped inside you again and you groaned at the newfound feeling, lip quivering and eyes getting teary. this time, without much hesitance after you adjusted again eren removed his fingers and placed his tip at your entrance turning you to face him. "you're so fucking good," eren brought your lips to his again before he slid into you slowly, swallowing all your gasps and he could've sworn he could've heard one elicit from levi at the pressure that was building up. he didn't begin to move until you gave him the okay and he spit hastily once more and began moving slowly, levi's pace much faster.

you felt overwhelmed but in a good way, the thrill was running through your body and your adrenaline was pumping, cheeks warm and body hot, and you could feel tears pricking at your eyes. "this... feels so fucking... good!" you struggled to get you words out but they heard you. in response eren grabbed your breast, rolling your nipple in between his warm fingers and placing his forehead against the top of your head.

"yeah, it does, this is amazing, ____, you're amazing, fuck." you could've sworn that was the first time eren had said your name all night and you loved the way it rolled off of his tongue so well, it made your heart flutter how he said it so passionately and rich while he fucked you.

levi still was adamant on not making much noise but you could tell he was feeling it too by the way his grip on your lower back was impeccably tight, and the soft curses under his breath. normally you'd be asking the other party to go faster but you didn't want to push yourself too much and relished in the pleasure given currently. you were gonna come soon anyways with an added push later.

"you're taking us so well, shit," eren cursed eyes squeezed so tightly he was seeing stars in his vision while he palmed at your breast, seemingly for his own leverage not really your own, and you probably would've laughed at this if you weren't so in the moment yourself.

"eren, levi," you panted bouncing down onto both of them hoping your efforts were working with them. "please, i'm gonna come,"

ugh, there names again went straight to both of their heads, especially eren, his hand snaking up to your neck from your boob and  choking you slightly before going to your jaw and slipping his thumb into your mouth, holding it open. "are you asking permission?" eren asked while levi followed in eren's footsteps unconsciously and this time actually choked you, his hand wrapping around your neck and bringing you closer to him, yet his eyes were closed.

"i..." you couldn't even respond to eren's question, too much going on and quicker than you could even process or realize you came squeezing both of them tight, but levi could feel it straight on and stopped for a second in efforts not to come yet. he would never admit it but the feeling was perfectly strange in the weirdest way. as long as levi's lower stomach didn't rub against your clit the oversensitivity didn't bother you too much.

"you what? speak up." eren patronized you knowing you couldn't speak well with his thumb in your mouth or a hand around your throat, nevertheless filled both ways with two dicks.

levi loosened his grip and you sucked in as much air as possible and whined. "please, can i come?"

yes, you definitely needed someone like eren in your sex life.

he took his hand out your mouth and used his wet thumb to rub circles around your clit until that same pressure built up earlier and toppled you over the edge, you coming for the third time that day, holding in your screams as you twitched on both of their dicks squeezing them tight. "lev-, ere-," you breathed heavy and collapsed on levi again while both of them quickened their pace, eren coming first for the second time and spilling into you causing levi to let out a loud groan and reciprocate.

levi pushed forwards causing you to fall back into eren who took you into his arms and turned you around so no cum got on levi's desk. while he caught his breath he used the arm that wasn't holding you up to spread your left cheek and watch you push out both of their fluid, eren biting his lip and sighing. "you did really good." he murmured in your ear while levi fixed himself up right away. talk about post-sex guilt, or maybe that was his cleanly side acting up.

usually after sex the two of you would get dressed together and you would help him clean his office but this was too much, you were tired and needed to help yourself.

levi clearly felt disgusted with himself, and you found it amusing even through your haze. "i have some cleaning to do, get your shit together and get out." was the nicest way for him put it. you didn't take this as rude considering you knew levi personally, and as did eren yet he still was slightly offended. levi pulled out a box off tissues from the shelf which he placed them on and handed it to you. "get yourself a little cleaned up with these, get your clothes on, and you too jaeger."

you rolled your eyes yet you and eren obliged while levi febreezed the room before getting started on his cleaning.

"good thing i don't have calls today. we're on break now so i'm making myself another cup of coffee to get through this last hour." you spoke mainly to yourself but still the two heard as you placed your phone back into your purse which you picked up after spraying yourself (and eren) with perfume and fixing yourself up, face cleaned up and all.

"we don't talk about this, ever. this isn't happening again, and if i even hear you utter a word about it, it's gonna be your neck, brats." levi muttered while wiping off his desk profusely. "get out." he huffed, wanting to take a hot shower, then again all three of you couldn't wait to get home and do just that.

                                  ✽ ✽ ✽

"so..." eren sipped from his coffee as did you, him deciding to follow you during the last ten minutes of your break.

"so? don't make this awkward, eren." you half joked with a small smile. "levi said not to talk about it!" you repeated levi's words mockingly, of course you cared less what levi thought.

"i just feel like this makes us closer." he chirped at your playful tone. "we should hang out or something sometime and i wanna know you and... everything." eren seemed bolder with his words after your adventure.

"you blackmailing me and levi into having sex with you counts as us getting closer?" it seemed as if eren became a little more sullen with another one of his infamous irritated looks, causing you to chuckle. "i'm just joking, eren. you have my number if you need it."

eren's eyes lit up and he smiled with a small huff of accomplishment. "alright cool..." his gaze darted towards the clock in the corner of the room. "breaks over so i'll see you, _____." there was your name again.

he began to walk off desperately wanting to leave you with a hug or a kiss but he was back into his awkward complex, nevertheless he did not know what terms the two of you stood on after that.

"did you ever finish those papers?" you asked curiously looking towards eren before he could round the corner. eren gave you an apologetic look shaking his head until his brain sparked. he smirked and looked back at you with those same aqua eyes.

"i finished in something else instead." and you swore you saw his eyes darken before he turned that stupid sharp corner and disappeared for good.

[dourpeep]

Fun scenarios for teashop!darling (that's what im gonna call them)

One time Scaramouche saw a customer come out crying(andrunningfortheirlife) and when he asked teashop!darling they said that "The customer was told to leave for causing a ruckus and they were heartbroken that they couldn't drink tea here anymore" and he doesn't completely believe that

Signora once saw teashop!darling one-shot four Geovishaps (without using their vision) because the Geovishaps kept bothering them while they were trying to pick herbs

Tartaglia was talking to Baizhu while he was getting patched up after a fight and found out that Baizhu was scared low-key scared of teashop!darling because he met them while teashop!darling was still an adventurer and they left quite the impression on him

Bonus: one time when all 3 of them were at your shop they noticed you were wearing a ring and thought 'wait- they were in a relationship with someone? Who??!' and no you weren't you just found that ring when you were cleaning out your room and thought 'why not wear it? It looks good.' they only found out when they were about to leave lol

-no primogems

Ehe going back through the stuff in my inbox to answer the longer things nowww

Aforementioned//og teashop!Reader post

--

You're running a business and has no time for people trying to cause trouble. If a customer refuses to understand that? You'll make sure they will.

Of course, it'll all be done quickly and quietly as to not disturb the atmosphere.

And...well, with you being an incredibly pleasant host at all times, it's certainly unnerving when the gentle gaze turns sharp and cold. Anyway-

Scaramouche was making his way down back towards Liyue Harbor following an assignment just in area of Guili Plains. It was getting late and, while he normally would head back to camp, there was a peculiar sight that drew him towards your teahouse.

Or, rather, a panicked man nearly knocked the Harbinger off his feet in attempt to get as far from the place as possible.

If it weren't for the sight of your figure standing in the entryway, he would've responded with more than a quiet curse and scathing look. Hands on your hips, you watch the man disappear over past the hills before perking up at the sight of one of your favorite customers.

A quick stop for tea wouldn't hurt.

Once inside, he noticed that the other patrons were entirely unbothered. Little drifts of small talk and laughter from a table in a further off space instead filled the pleasant warmth of the teahouse.

So...if it wasn't something within the building...what did you do to that man to make him so terrified?

If he asks, you'll give him a little shrug before offering a complimentary slice of house-made matcha cake.

--

Not gonna lie. Anyone who can oneshot four of those guys should be feared.

Especially alone. With little else than a plain straw hat and a basket carefully filled with various herbs, it only took a mere moment--the blink of an eye--before the Fair Lady saw you wipe your hands against your apron.

There's still a lingering bit of frost that nips at her skin, catalyst primed and ready in the case that she'd have to jump in to help you.

Were there not just a group of vishaps...?

Even with the sure knowledge of this, there wasn't dust floating in the air (a normal occurrence in fighting geovishaps in the plains) nor was there the tell-tale sparkle of their bodies disintegrating upon defeat.

But Signora was smarter than to ask you of it

Instead, she watches for a little longer until you notice her standing beneath the shade of a sunsettia tree.

Once you do and the two of you head back to the teahouse, you share a cup of freshly brewed herbal tea. The knowing look in your eye is really all she needs to understand.

--

Now, don't get me wrong, you are good friends with Bubu Pharmacy's owner. After all, you did offer quite a few medicinal brews that agreed to offer at his pharmacy.

But, even with Baizhu's enigmatic personality, he's clever enough to know not to cross you. Even his employees are sure to keep in your good books (though, both Qiqi and Herbalist Gui don't have a problem with that).

It's a slight reaction that the man has to your name that gets Tartaglia's curiosity going.

Just a passing mention when he noticed that the pharmacy carries a certain tea that you served last time he visited the teahouse. While purchasing a few pounds of the mix, Tartaglia laughed and started to talk about that first meeting where you simply said Get out--

Baizhu almost immediately changed the subject and the Fatui's left with a slightly more inflated charge.

--

Once more, the three meet at your shop. With Tartaglia and Scaramouche assigned to their respective posts in Liyue and Signora making frequent stops between her own missions, it's become a sort of rendezvous point for the three Harbingers.

The moment that the glittering ring catches the light, Tartaglia chokes.

You, being sweet, immediately come over to make sure that he's alright and that's when the other two catch the sight of it.

Surely you weren't already engaged? Just a mere two months ago you mentioned how you had no suitor in your life-

But it's not really something that someone can congratulate on right?

Even when the passing comment about the piece floats, you laugh and wave it off like it's a joke. Perhaps it wasn't something you wished for? If so, the three of them had more than enough ability to sway this...person's wishes.

By the time the tea is drained and the light snacks they ordered finished, another customer voices a congratulations. An older woman who is almost always at the shop.

"Oh? Oh! No, no, this is one of my own, ahma- I simply found it while fixing up last night."

"It's lovely, but a shame you have not yet found a lovely person."

Her eyes drift over across the teashop before settling on the table with three very curious Harbingers (all in various modes of 'listening in').

Needless to say, she takes her leave and the trio are left with a few thoughts of their own.

Hm.

At least you're not taken.

Yet.

[beachbabey]

Being roommates with Steven Grant because you really think he’s able to afford a London apartment on his own working in a gift shop???

Steven Grant x gn!reader (platonic)

Word count: 908

(Steven Grant is neurodivergent, argue with the wall)

Despite being a vegan, im almost 100% sure all this man eats is chips/fries and desserts

Hates a lot of vegan food, pretty much of it has a weird texture and he just can’t eat it without wanting to open his mouth and let it fall back on his plate  

Sweet wrappers all over the coffee table 

Pls cook for him, the poor man is missing so many nutrients

Steven’s not great at reacting to emotions sometimes, but he’s trying his best!! 

“You alright love?” 

“My girlfriend broke up with me” 

“Oh……that’s a shame innit?” 

“Over the phone” 

“Oh bloody hell, a bit rude don't you think??” 

Introduces you to every single tea you can think of, loves fruit and herbal teas

Will always make you one when he’s making one himself. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s finding your mug and making you one, it’s just second nature to him 

Can't close cupboards, 

Simply can't, he tries, he really does! 

The amount of times you’ve hit your head on the corners of the doors is well into the thousands at this point 

You’ll be in the middle of a phone call in the kitchen whilst steven is making lunch, turn around and then WHAM you’re on your ass 

Asks you to lock your door when you sleep, for yours and his sake, he’s so scared that with his ‘sleeping disorder’ he’s gonna somehow harm you 

But somehow sleeps worse if he knows you’re not at home 

Gets a little anxious if you’re staying over at a friend's place or going somewhere for a few days 

He can get so lonely if you’re gone for a while and dives even deeper into reading and disassociates even more than usual

you guys probably spend the holidays together and it's so peaceful and quiet

steven doesn't strike me as someone who's very festive but he'll still stay up for new years with you and crack open a bottle of wine and wish you a happy new year as the fireworks go off

Affectionate but hesitant about it, in the beginning, he’d stay a couple feet away from you if he could help it 

You thought he hated you for a long while 

Turns out he’s just a little shy and not aware of where your personal space/physical boundaries are and thought it'd be better to be safe than sorry 

if you’re a cuddly kind of person he’ll come home from work and slump on you 

You’ll be standing in the bathroom and he’ll find you and just throw his arms around you and mush his face into your shoulders 

constantly leans on you

his head's resting on your back or the top of your head

he always leans against you when you guys are sitting on the sofa

With the whole “laters gators” thing??? 

Yeah you both fight to get the last word 

It gets like stupidly long 

“Laters gators” 

“In a while crocodile!” 

“Bye-bye, butterfly” 

“Gotta go buffalo”

“Toodeloo kangaroo!” 

“........Steven get out, you’re gonna be late” 

“Yeah alright! Alright! Laters-” 

“Steven! Out now!” 

Visit him at work and his eyes will brighten up so much, smiles for the first time since leaving the house 

“Hiya you! What are you doing here?” 

Can’t talk for too long or Donna’s gonna find some sort of punishment for him slacking off 

The only reason the flat is clean is because of you 

Steven thinks of it as “well nobody ever comes over so why does it need to be spotless?” 

Either forgets to do his chores

Or forgets which chores were actually his to do and in a panic, does all of them 

You come back home after a crappy day to a completely spotless flat, books stacked neatly on windowsills and on top of Gus’ tank, papers actually underneath his pyramid paperweight, dishes cleaned and put away

He’s so sweet anxious all of the time

Almost crying, choking out a “can i hug you?” 

To which he confusedly nods to and holds his arms out to you 

Slowly wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you sigh heavily into him before he asks if a cup of tea and a chat would help

reading together on the sofa, your legs across his lap and his forearms on your shins

or vice versa

Watching history documentaries at 2am with his head in your lap and your hands absentmindedly running through his curls, both of your heads drooping but too interested in the show to call it quits, he ends up ranting about his day, asking for your opinions on things until the slow motions of your hand slur his speech until  he’s mumbling so much you can’t make out a single word 

“Steve? You awake? You gotta get to bed” 

“Mhmmm m’gonna, s’no worry love, no worry…..” 

If you ever don’t have the money to cover your half of the bills, you don’t even have to ask, Steven will cover you for as long as he can with his shitty minimum wage job and won’t think twice about it

Three words:

Steven 

Just Dance 

He tries to do the rasputin squat kicks and falls on his ass, then whines if you laugh at him

"yeah yeah, laugh away, you evil little bugger, my poor arse!"

Overall he’s a good guy and although he’s scatterbrained a lot of the time, he’s the sweetest roommate you could ever ask for

[animeomegas]

how would you feel asra would be during labor?

i feel like he’d have the entire process in the shop, in their room, sprawled out on the bed full of pillows and blankets with his alpha.

julian would probably be delivering, but he’s a plague doctor— so i doubt he’d be very skilled at it, but it’s the closest thing asra and his alpha has to a real doctor (idk maybe it was late and asra just woke up in pain to realize he was delivering right then and there, or julian is the only one they trust with their newborn, whichever works best).

so it’s just asra, his panicked alpha, and Doctor Drama Queen in one room trying to push out their first child.

for some reason, i can hc asra only really screaming or being loud because of pain, but he’s wayyy too fucking calm about pushing a literal fucking human baby out of him.

asra’s just squeezing his alphas hand as they talk with julian, who’s just— “i don’t know what i’m doing okay??”

afterwards, though, can you imagine julian telling the news to everyone? that their favorite two magicians finally have a pup of their own?

and how would muriel react when he’s allowed to see them? since he and asra are basically brothers. i feel he’d be too afraid to hold the child, but if he’s able to, he’s so much bigger than it, and the pup is barely bigger than his palm.

idk i just feel like they’d be a really happy family too, two magical parents and an uncle that lives in the woods with his wolf. aaa i’m soft.

sorry if this wasn’t good, it’s my first time trying to submit a hc of my own 😭

-🍣

(This is stunning and amazing sushi anon, thank you so much for sharing this!!!! 💓)

Asra absolutely gives birth in the shop. It’s his home, he would give birth nowhere else. The shop is filled with so many memories, good and bad, and Asra wants to add another to the list.

Nadia offered for him and his alpha to come to the palace in the run up to his due date, where there would be the best doctors money could find, but Asra politely refused.

You’re definitely right that he gives birth on his bed because he doesn’t like strangers in his proper nest. He builds a mini nest on his bed that he’s more comfortable with others seeing, ready for birth.

Asra asks Julian to deliver the pup because Asra trusts him more than a random doctor, and Julian… reads a lot of books on the topic and gets a little training from some people Nadia hires to help, but he’s still a bit of a nervous wreck, much more so than Asra, who seems perfectly calm at the idea of having his pup delivered by a plague doctor.

It’s a bit of a theme that Asra is the only one who’s any type of calm despite being the one who has the most solid reason to panic.

…

You delicately tilt Asra’s head forwards so that he can sip at the herbal tea you had made for him without choking.

Asra had, some would say bravely and others would say foolishly, opted to go for a completely natural birth. That is to say his only pain killers are herbal teas and home remedies.

“Drink slowly, Asra,” you encourage, supporting both his head and the cup as steadily as you can. “You’re doing so well, you’re so unbelievably brave to do this for our pup.”

Asra shoots a pained smile at you as you take the cup away, a dribble of herbal tea running down his chin. You laugh softly and wipe it delicately with your sleeve.

You’re so caught up in the cute little moment that you can almost forget about Julian’s barely concealed panic as he faffs around with far more towels than you’re sure Asra needs. He’s muttering under his breath constantly, thankfully too quietly for Asra to hear; you don’t want to stress him out any more than necessary.

“Is Julian okay?” Asra asks softly. “He seems stressed.”

“Yes, I imagine he is stressed,” you admit. “But it’s not for you to worry about right now, you let me worry about Julian, you just worry about-“

Asra suddenly cuts you off with a pained moan as another contraction hits him. You try to help him as best as you can by wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

“Almost there, you’re almost through the contraction,” you soothe, trying to muster up the willpower to carry on ignoring Julian who is now counting how long Asra’s contraction is lasting for.

“Hurts,” Asra gasps out. “A lot.”

“I know,” you say. You decide to move closer to him and try purring to calm him down. Asra immediately turns and rests his head on your chest to feel the comforting vibrations. “I’ll get you some more tea when the contraction is over, I promise.”

…

Muriel is so happy when he finds out but he’s also very nervous.

It’s just as you say, he’s adamant that he can’t hold the child in case he hurts them by mistake. Asra offers multiple times and makes it clear that he trusts Muriel, but it takes a while for Muriel to crack under Asra’s insistence.

When he does though.

Oh my goodness.

Muriel is completely smitten. He would do anything for this pup immediately. They’re just so… small and delicate and innocent… How could anything be like this?

Muriel is definitely an uncle figure to the pup, who, when they’re old enough, often goes to visit him when they’ve had a fight with their parents or just want to get out of the house for a bit.

Muriel is very patient with them, always.

And you’re very right anon, what a beautiful family they all make!!!

[lvnatiq]

Random Relationship Headcanons | Felix Escellun x gn!reader

a/n: Hey ! On todays menu I am serving you modern au relationship headcanons. I know for a fact that I can’t write headcanons AT ALL yet here we are, out of spite I will keep trying until I can manage to write good shit. I’m going through a chaotic time in my life so please be patient with me 😭

I’m currently working on tattoo artist! reader x Felix headcanons and college!enemies to lovers one-shot. Knowing that Felix’s fav trope is enemies to lovers, I will post it hopefully before his new chapter drops. I used most of the hcs that were sent to me but if you couldn’t see yours, then it will probably be used on the other works.

No beta we die like men.

warnings: curse words, nsfw under the cut, random sage moments, felix being a ‘the neighborhood’ song basically.

You persuade him to start an Instagram account, and because of his family's popularity, he quickly gains followers. His account is practically empty because he would rather spend his time stalking your account on Instagram. You noticed the emptiness and wanted to take him out and take some photos for his account, which turned out amazingly. He is a little camera shy, so be patient with him.

You like to watch him apply his eyeliner but he finds it so stressing to do under your gaze.  He used to be able to do it easily, but it has now become one of his most difficult tasks. You wanted to ask for his assistance in applying eyeliner to you in the hopes of making it simpler for him; he agreed but quickly regretted it when he realized how near your faces would be. You with your eyes closed, waiting for him to drag the line as he was only thinking about how bad he wanted to kiss you. 

Felix has a Polaroid of you and stella in his wallet I said what I said.

When it comes to himself, he can be a pessimist, but when it comes to you, he is the most loving and positive boyfriend you could ever ask for. You have a dream ? He is ready to help you achieve it. Do you want to change in your life ? Go for it, He’s more excited than you are.

He can be quite insecure at times when it comes to your relationship because he feels like you deserve the world but the world is too big for his tiny hands. Will his cuddles be enough ? God he hopes so.

He almost cried when you told him you loved him for the first time. He's also baffled as to how you might feel the same way about him.

Drunk Felix is really clingy and honest. Whatever he can’t say sober drunk felix can and definitely will.

“May the stars let my death be between your glorious thighs amen-“ “Felix-”

Felix is weird but it add to his charm. It’s not unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night and find the pillow besides yours empty. In the dead of night, you will find Felix munching on some weird ass food combinations.

He also has a habit of doing things that are extremely adorable without even noticing it. Like walking around the house in his oversized shirts, his hand clutching at the cuffs whilst the other one sheepishly rubs his eye.

“Can I lay on your lap ? I promise I won’t fall asleep. I just need to rest for a little.” His voice is so soft and hushed. “Of course, come here.” He throws himself onto you as he comes hopping on his tip toes.

He falls asleep on his desk too often, so you have to carry him back to his room, where he snuggles against you while you lead him there. Once he's in his room, he insists that you stay with him, so you wait until he falls asleep as you play with his hair, and he wakes up thinking it was all a dream.

I firmly believe that Felix’s love language is acts of service. Like making you coffee and bringing you random snacks as you work or wrapping you up in fluffy blankets whenever he catches you slacking on the couch.

He's been romanticizing anything and everything since he met you. When he sees beautiful flowers, he wants to bring them to you, but he also believes that their beauty stems from the fact that they are alive, so he argues and stresses a lot when deciding what to do in simple situations like these.

His edginess belongs to his impulsiveness and his style only at any other situation he's a complete softboy.

And I'm certain he knows a variety of card tricks. He enjoys showing off, and he enjoys it even more when you become fascinated and beg him to share the trick.

If you're a morning person, you'll probably spend your mornings alone in solitude, finishing work before the day begins, but if you're a night owl, you and Felix will go out for night walks and Felix would go out for night walks, sharing headphones to play some music, enjoy each others presence and develop a habit of watching the sunrise together.

Felix makes you playlists at the most random times and with the most random names. Until one day he sent you a playlist at around 4 a.m called “you”, filled with his favorite music. He usually sees music as a safe space for himself and now that you are his safe place too it’s only appropriate for him to do so. This only further proves how he spends his time thinking about you.

I feel like Felix would have what most would call "attachment issues" but it’s mainly because of his protective tendencies. This is not to say that he’s this "overly jealous toxic" character; rather, he has never had anyone to truly call his own in his entire life so he would do anything to protect it.

Felix is also big on astrology, so if you want the perfect birth chart, he'll give it to you. Also he owns a lovely deck of tarot cards, and if you ask him for a love reading, he can't manage to keep his words and feelings to himself so he modifies your reading according to him and his desires. Let the boy abuse his powers for the sake of love.

His style could be described as dark academia, his wardrobe mainly consists of dark colors, lots and lots of blazers and a lot of oversized shirts. He also loves jewelry so he owns a lot of rings and chains. Just so you know, if you're wearing any of his rings, his heart is doing cartwheels.

Is it obvious that he loves it when you place your hand in his and play with his rings with your fingertips.

Spoil him. Buy him that baby blue hoodie with cat ears.

“Ah, you look adorable.” “Isn’t it a bit too b-big ?” “You could say that. Do you mind ?” “No, I like it that way.” “I would know.” You smirk followed by felix’s gasp. “If you so desperately wanted a cat boy you know you have me right ?” Nudging your shoulder, Sage leapt into the conversation. “What is he talking about ?”  Felix grumbled, only to notice two fuzzy triangular fabrics on top of his head as he brushed his fingertips over it.

He’s obsessed with your hands, kissing your knuckles, drawing circles in your palm. At a certain point it became an involuntary gesture he does it quite often without realizing.

He’s also canonically extremely blushy but he would never admit it. You’re convinced he uses some sort of make up because it is not possible for the pink dusting his cheeks to look this good.

He insists that you’re cold even in the warmest weathers because he wants to see you in his coat.

Sage forces Felix to take his thirst trap Tiktoks.

He really appreciates it when you add to his herbal tea collection without him noticing and he considers it a sign of affection because he takes his tea very seriously.

He loses it when you call him baby he gets flustered and frustrated but it’s all because it rolls off of your tongue so nicely that he can’t get enough of it.

Felix owns a broad collection of scented lip balms some of them are tinted. You didn’t hear this from me.

He never once took anything the Sage says seriously until he saw how well you two got along. He never thought that he would be standing there taking relationship and flirting advice from the frat boy.

Felix is a complete asshole when he wants to. He’s very verbal about it too. Consistent sarcastic remarks and eye rolls. I mean it runs in his blood, look at Escell.

You love it when he suddenly whips out the confident Felix, it’s not a daily occurrence you know.

When Felix is concentrated, he’s lost and there’s almost no way you or anything else can distract him. So it’s time to grab some colorful hair clips and ties to fuck around with his hair.

Felix is not the best at verbally expressing his gratitude towards you. He doesn’t know what he would do if you weren’t there for him at the lowest points of his life where normally he would close himself and bare the weight of his family problems and personal life issues that he can’t seem to get out of. Now he has you, someone who’s willing to listen to him and offer him a warm embrace when he needs the most. 

While you to play games together, when he wins he wears that iconic shit eating grin of his with pride looking at you through the corner of his eye. “Shit, what do you want me to say to that felix ? Perhaps I should call you master now that you won ‘one’ fucking round.” He is praying that the screen light is covering the fact that he is a blushy mess after hearing you say that.

NSFW

I cannot stress this enough but he is extremely vocal in bed. Whining, trying to restrict himself from making too much noise but failing miserably.

Muffled pants, choked sobs and lots of pleasure infused tears.

He loves getting praised during sex but what he loves more is to get praised after it’s all over. Like you telling him how great he was, how well he behaved, how good he made you feel. He experiences sub drops a lot so please assure him that he did well :(

He’s into power-play but not in a submissive or dominant kind of relationship, it’s more of a psychological thing where the fact that he can see how good he makes you feel gives him a rush of confidence and adrenaline.

I believe that this motherfucker is a masochist, pain makes him more excited than getting an update on his favorite author who went on a year long hiatus and that is saying a lot.

Bite him. Scratch him. It is so stimulating for him he can reach his high just from those actions.

Fuck do anything to his ears bite, lick, pull, blow on it. He is extremely sensitive so anything you do will basically drive him out of his mind. It will most definitely lead to him trembling beneath your fingertips.

You must think that you are the only one who is such a tease but you’re wrong. Felix teases you quite often mostly to direct your attention towards him or to keep your attention on him. He’s quite greedy when it comes to you and your hands on his body. Unbuttoning unnecessary amount of buttons on his shirt to show a little skin that he knows you’ll notice. Playing with his necklace placing the chain between his lips dragging it towards the inside of his bottom lip teasing the metallic charm with the tip of his tongue. He definitely ain’t oblivious he knows exactly what he’s doing and he makes sure that you know exactly what he’s doing.

When he’s in the mood he will tug the hem of your top meanwhile his eyes are glued to the floor or graze the temples of his glasses between his lips, his teeth lightly nibbling the pointy edge. He loves to play dumb too. When you question him, he acts like he doesn’t intend anything and that you need to get your head out of the gutter.

At the end of the session Felix looks divine. Drool leaking down from his bottom lip to his jaw line towards his neck, his bangs sticking on his sweat coated forehead, his chest rising up and down quickly. His eyes rolled at the back of his head, his hands still clutching tightly to the sheets. Faint whimpers and deep breaths filling the air.

Leading up to the after care, his shy self returns. He buries his face to your chest hiding his blushy cheeks beneath the palms of his hands.

He likes to experiment a lot and you are his favorite subject.

It shouldn’t be surprising to find random kink definitions or role-play ideas on the search history of your laptop. After all Felix just asked for it to write an email, that’s all there is to it. That’s until you offer to try them out.

He doesn’t act upon his jealousy, what he does instead is that leaving marks on you especially around your neck and your chest where he knows it will show. Don’t cover them up if you don’t wanna deal with him.

“People just don’t appreciate art anymore.” “Felix these are, hickeys.” “Oh so now you are judging my art medium ?” “Since when proving Sage that I got railed by you is a form of art ?”

I didn’t see anyone point this out but whenever he is in the sub space he tends to be more on the bratty side. He starts of shy but his confidence builds up as the tension rises. Meaning that you should be ready to get your patience tested.

When you two are in separate places your suggestive words and tone leads up to phone sex, which Felix secretly fantasized about a lot. What made everything even more dirty was the fact that you didn’t know that he was laying on your bed surrounded by your scent and humping your pillow. Once you come back home you are greeted with a fresh pair of sheets on your bed. Apparently Felix decided to do you a favor and clean your room as well as the the whole house. He’s crossing fingers that you don’t notice because he knows that he’ll never hear the end of it.

Felix knows a lot about sex but his knowledge is based upon fiction rather than experience. So, naturally, he is more interested about learning specifically how your body responds to certain actions, what you enjoy and what you’re interested in so teach him. He’s a good student and oh well he’s a quick learner.

Pull his hair pull his hair put his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair.

When he settles between your legs as he ties his hair, he places the hairband between his lips and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. It’s his definition of torture.

Even though he doesn’t give off that vibe, he is very freaky if you would’ve known what his AO3 tags consisted of you would agree.

Tag list is open

[darethshirl]

Solas’s body was currently trying to kill him.

This was the only explanation for the unprecedentedly violent cough that wracked his body. Solas covered his mouth as he once again lost his breath to a series of coughs, his shoulders shaking, his ribs bruised from the constant abuse. When he came up for air his throat felt scraped raw, his head heavy. Even swallowing hurt. But Solas persevered, and squinted down at the book in his lap. He was being stubborn by continuing to read, he knew, but the boredom of lying in bed unable to sleep or do much of anything was a torture far worse than any simple cold. Lyanna hadn’t been convinced by his argument, but ultimately agreed to his compromise: he could read in bed as long as he stayed—mostly—horizontal and worked on nothing too strenuous.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Lyanna entered the room with a cup carefully cradled in her hands. She tossed him a sympathetic smile as she approached the bed. “Feeling any better?”

“I am not,” Solas said with martyred dignity.

Lyanna hid her chuckle behind a hum, then sat by his side. “Here,” she said, offering him the steaming cup, “this will help.”

Even to his congested nose, the scent was unmistakable. He gave a despairing wince. “Tea?”

“A herbal remedy,” Lyanna corrected, a hint of sternness hiding behind the amusement. She pressed the cup to his hands and helped him lift it to his mouth with a determination that brooked no argument. “You know it will make you feel better.”

Solas had no energy to fight anymore, so with a piteous sigh he accepted his fate. The accursed liquid went down his throat, its heat scalding his insides in a way he had to admit felt wonderful, warming him up from head to toe. Despite the detestable taste he could still discern the aftertaste of something… sweet?

“It’s honey,” Lyanna explained when she saw his expression change. “It soothes aching throats. And I thought you’d appreciate it,” she added, with a smile that was fond and unbearably kind.

Such a tiny gesture, but in his weary state it almost brought tears to his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, choked up for more reasons than one.

“Oh, vhenan,” Lyanna cooed, her laughing eyes creasing with compassion. She kissed his cheek and started rubbing his back, the touch infinitely comforting. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break from reading?”

Solas looked at the forgotten book, left face down on the sheets. “I still have some chapters left.”

“Hmm.” Lyanna’s hand migrated to his shoulder, pressing deftly at his sore muscles. “Maybe you could continue after I leave? Keep me some company while I sleep, my love.”

“You have no reason to sleep.”

“Naps don’t need a special reason.” Lyanna took the cup from his hands and urged him gently down, curling up next to him. “Just for a little?”

“Well,” Solas sighed, rolling on his side to meet her halfway, “I suppose I can join you for a little bit.”

His body still ached as he lay there, his headache drumming at his temples with no mercy. But he breathed more easily now, and Lyanna’s warmth felt pleasant rather than suffocating. Solas pressed his forehead to her collarbone, their arms curled loosely around each other, and let her soft humming lull him to sleep.

[atinybitofau]

[ateez] S E O N G H W A ⤮ baby daddy au

HIS SON IS A PRODIGY AND HE NEEDS A (mommy) NANNY. MAFIA SEONGHWA.

a/n: in honor of the beautiful vlive from last night 😭😭. how ya’ll doing Seonghwa stans?

• Seonghwa’s proud of his son.

• even if he works dirty jobs—

• isn’t exactly proud of himself.

• he’s got pride, believe me.

• but it’s not ordinary pride.

• Seonghwa’s far from the ordinary.

• “The nanny quit.” Hongjoong teeter’s Seonghwa’s baby-double on his hip. “Hwa, you need to find someone who can handle Yeolhwa. Your son is as bad as you. If not, worse.”

• he chuckles lowly putting down his stack of papers before reaching over for his son.

• his son always curling at the scent and warmth of his father.

• he playfully glares picking at his cheeks before telling him, “Yeolhwa, you can’t just pull nanny’s hair when you can’t get something you want. That’s not good.”

• Yeolhwa’s too young to understand.

• because his son is spoiled by everyone he encounters.

• and Seonghwa expects nothing but when he works his ass off to get the things he wants.

• he doesn’t want his son to struggle the way he did when he was young.

• “What’s the mother doing?” Hongjoong is merciless when he asks. “That dumb skank only knows one thing and it’s popping kids and popping pills.”

• he admits he’s had too much leisure when having his fun in the past—

• but he never regrets having his son in a mistake he can barely even remember.

• “I’ve made it clear he needs no mother.”

• “Seonghwa, no matter what you do, that boy needs a mother.” the younger rolls his eyes. “A nanny can only make up so much for what you deprive. And your job doesn’t make things easier. You can’t take care of him like this forever. Not by yourself.”

• Seonghwa teeters his own son to sleep in his arms.

• staring and cradling his face like he’s the greatest gift not even money can buy—

• not even his power.

• he didn’t have to kill someone to get Yeolhwa.

• his son is everything to him.

• but he has to make sacrifices to give his son everything.

• nothing is ever just given.

• “I’m sorry it’s such short notice, Ms. y/n. But I hope the accommodations we have are enough to settle with.” Hongjoong opens the door for you. “Yeolhwa can be a little arduous when it comes to caretaking. Do be careful.”

• you are anxious you must admit.

• the home smells eerily like iron and musk.

• you can tell the job you took wasn’t just leisure or easy money.

• “Oh.” you shyly smile. “I’m sure he’s just a little hard to understand. Children can be unpredictable and we can’t blame them for that.”

• Hongjoong hears that too many times.

• knows that’s what they all say.

• chokes on his breath before he says something that might scare you away.

• “Well I must get back.” he hands you a cellphone and a book of references before pulling his suit. “Please don’t hesitate to call me. Everything you need is in that book. I’ll be back to relieve you at 9 pm tonight.”

• “Thank you, Mr. Hongjoong. I hope I don’t let you down.”

• he scoffs at that. “Good luck, Ms. y/n. You’re gonna need it.”

• you don’t know what that means.

• but you’re more concerned on taking care of a child who is claimed to be intolerable.

• and you stern by the idea of inexperienced children.

• because they’re not like us.

• they learn from what they’re surrounded with.

• “M-mr. Hongjoong. I’m sorry for bothering you but I was wondering if I can take Yeolhwa to the park today. I see there’s no schedule for outside play time and I—“

• “Unfortunately his father doesn’t approve of outside exposure.” Hongjoong’s fast to quib. “He’s going to have to settle playing inside.”

• “But Mr—“

• “I apologize y/n but that just can’t happen.”

• you observe Yeolhwa.

• he’s a quiet and kept child.

• but he doesn’t like the word no.

• no, he likes getting what he wants.

• and he plays with his toys like they’re not toys at all.

• holds his toy gun like it’s almost real.

• “Yeolhwa, what’s that baby?”

• he looks up to you with golden eyes. “Nanny y/n.”

• you smile at the small boy who offers you a book. “You want me to read to you?”

• he cracks a smile and curls in your lap.

• he’s a sweet kid and is quite capable.

• but you see why he’s not easy to deal with.

• not when he throws tantrums like he’s a grown ass adult—

• “Yeolhwa baby, put the book down.” you ease him in the best way possible. “Sweetie, you can’t play anymore. You have to take a nap.”

• he sobs again.

• hurling a heavy hard cover book in your direction.

• sighing, you only collect the things he throws never giving it attention.

• it only peeves him more.

• “You can cry all you want. But crying won’t get you your toys, baby. You have to sleep.”

• eventually fulfilling your hopes,

• he gets tired.

• curling in your lap when he seeks comfort and warmth for slumber.

• once he’s asleep, you pack your things ready to leave for the night.

• “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

• Hongjoong’s surprised the safe house wasn’t a complete wreck.

• he’s surprised nothings broken.

• but notices the bruising marks that formed on your legs.

• “I’m assuming you won’t be back?” he asks while teetering the small sleeping boy on his hip.

• “I’ll be back.” you affirm. “And I don’t intend to leave any time soon.”

• he’s convinced you’re different.

• that you have a certain will and composure that resembles someone he knows.

• tells Seonghwa immediately.

• “She’s worth watching. You should definitely see.”

• it happens again for the next couple days.

• but Yeolhwa’s toys hurt more than the books.

• and now you’re bleeding hard in the bathroom while he sleeps in his bed.

• “Children are unpredictable, y/n.” you mumble to yourself. “They grow learning from you.”

• Seonghwa watches through his monitor how you treat his child.

• sometimes peeved that you don’t give his son what he wants—

• but mesmerized when his son crawls into your lap every time despite it.

• “Hongjoong, I’ll be picking up Yeolhwa tonight. And prepare Yunho for babysitting duty.”

• Yeolhwa cries when he’s pulled out of your arms by a dark suited man,

• wants to stay in yours.

• crying for your name while you smile softly at him, hand to his cheek.

• “I’ll be back tomorrow, baby.” you coo. “Be a good boy okay? And I promise if you don’t cause trouble, I’ll come back every time.”

• he understands well for a child.

• curling obediently into the dark suited man who resembled him after you spoke.

• “I’m assuming you’re the infamous father?”

• Seonghwa studies you. “You take care of a child well. Thank you.”

• you shake it off pulling at your scarf. “I take care of a child as if it’s my own. Thank you for letting me.”

• your voice is soft,

• motherly and gentle.

• Seonghwa hasn’t felt this kind of delicate emotion in years.

• “I have dinner waiting. Care to join me?”

• you smile while holding at Yeolhwa’s reaching hand. “I have my own family I must attend to, Mr. Park.”

• “It’ll only be a couple minutes.”

• you notice the tattoos on his neck.

• the similar stamp of injustice that lingered on each of the men you’ve met prior.

• realizing days ago that Seonghwa’s son was a prodigy.

• one so that isn’t exactly safe or ordinary.

• “Your family relies on you.” Seonghwa keeps his eyes on you in midst of eating. “You’re a very lovely woman, y/n. Strong willed and captivating.”

• you blink softly unsure of how to respond. “I do what I must..”

• “Don’t we all.”

• your eyes meet his and you swallow your emotions harshly biting back at your lip.

• you don’t deny he’s a charming man.

• like his son, quiet and kept.

• “But you’re a beautiful woman too.” he admits. “Caring and gentle. My son’s fond of you for those reasons. He has good taste.”

• “Like his father I presume?” you tease making him laugh. “I have one request I want to light up though, Mr. Park. I want to bring your son out. Expose him to more than just the guns and walls.”

• he notes your observance.

• strong willed indeed.

• “I trust you.”

• you should be the one trusting him.

• but it’s inevitable what happens with his son as soon as he’s vulnerable, exposed.

• he’s a prodigy wanted by the best and worst of the world.

• and now your shielding a child with your own life.

• as if he was yours.

• “Hey baby, don’t cry. You’re gonna be okay. Yeolhwa, you’re gonna be okay sweetie.”

• he’s only crying because you’re crying.

• cause you don’t know what to do in this situation.

• but when Seonghwa appears from nowhere, spins you and his son around into his chest,

• you suddenly feel safe.

• him guarding you,

• you shielding his son.

• “Y/n, look at me.” he’s careful to touch you. “I’m gonna need you to come with me, okay?”

• you can only blink when his son is yanked out of your hands,

• the poor boy wanting only you.

• but with Seonghwa’s men, he’s safer.

• Seonghwa staying behind to protect you.

• “Y-Yeolhwa!”

• “He’s gonna be okay.” Seonghwa caresses your face shooting blank bullets over the car you two hide against. “I need to get you out of here okay? You need to be strong for me.”

• crying’s not gonna get you anywhere and if anyone were to know that, it would be you.

• so you follow.

• now safe from harm, Yeolhwa sleeping soundly on your lap,

• while his men try to console you with a cup of hot herbal tea and sweet talk.

• “This must be a lot for you. We’re sorry y/n.”

• you smile softly bouncing Seonghwa’s son up and down on your lap. “I don’t mind. I read the book Hongjoong gave and it was all in the fine print. A disclaimer that promised to keep me safe.”

• it’s no lie even Seonghwa’s men find you attractive.

• and it might be because you’re so humble.

• so delicate.

• Seonghwa has a proposition for you when Yeolhwa’s asleep.

• today being the day you should be quitting.

• but you promised Hongjoong your full effort and nothing but.

• “Y/n, stay with me.”

• Seonghwa leans his forehead against yours, hand cradling the line of your jaw.

• you feel warm against his touch.

• like a baby to a mother.

• in this case, a woman to a man.

• “Stay with me and Yeol.” he runs a finger over your parted lips. “He needs you. He needs a mother.”

• he admits his son has grown to love you.

• and maybe he’s grown to love you too.

• “I can’t take care of him the way you do.” he watches as your eyes lull to his voice. “He won’t be able to live without you.”

• “I’ll stay for as long as he needs me too.”

• it’s the first time Seonghwa’s ever stayed home.

• ever slept in his own bed with his own son curling into his chest.

• but it’s not the first time he’s slept in a bed with a woman.

• but it’s the first in his own bed with a woman he loves.

• “Mommy, hurry..”

• your eyebrows furrow and you whip around to face Seonghwa and his son,

• “M-mommy?”

• Seonghwa chuckles brushing through his sleepy son’s hair. “You heard him, mommy. Come to bed.”

• you take care of his son like he’s your own.

• but now Yeolhwa doesn’t need a nanny anymore.

• most of the time, looking for his father.

• “He doesn’t need me anymore, Seonghwa.” you playfully nudge at him when his chocolate haired son plays with new toys. “I don’t think I need to stay.”

• “Absurd.” the mafia boss spins you on your feet so your lips meet his. “If he doesn’t need a nanny, he needs a mother. But if he didnt need you at all then stay because I do.”

• you giggle against your boyfriend’s lips.

• “Hongjoong keeps having me sign a contract.” you pull at his collar, studying his eyes some more. “But the one this morning seemed to have unordinary discrepancies.”

• “That’s because that was a marriage contract.”

• “Ah.” you tease, him biting at your lip. “That must be why I saw your name instead of Yeol’s.”

• “APPA!”

• you two are suddenly pulled apart, the small boy holding out his arms protecting your legs.

• “You’re hurting mommy with your teeth! Bad appa.”

• you choke a laugh when Seonghwa furrows at the cockblock son of his.

• “Yeolhwa, you can’t just hurt me to get the things you want.” Seonghwa teases hoisting up his smiley son on his hip. “Who taught you that?”

• “You appa. You said we have to protect mommy from bad people. And that mommy should never get hurt.”

• “Oh yeah. I did, didn’t I?”

@atinybitofau

[forever-rogue]

In Name Only - Part 13

A/N: So...things are good for Oberyn and his Sunshine, right? They’re finally like a real married couple, and in love! Nothing to worry about now...Enjoy 💕 As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: None

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-«

It was the warmth of the light and the soft chirping of birds that stirred you from your slumber the next morning. Your eyes slowly opened as you stretched and rolled onto your side, expecting to find Oberyn next to you. Much to your chagrin, the bed was empty, and only a small strip of parchment met your hand.

Sighing lightly, you grabbed the parchment and read the elegantly scrawled note from your husband, finding it both endearing and apologetic; he’d been summoned for an early morning ride and had agreed to go more out of duty than anything else, but that he would make it up to you later.

Your face warmed at the mere thought of the promise as images of last night flooded your mind. Your first time with Oberyn had been worth the wait, despite the lingering soreness between your legs, and the marks you could and couldn’t see. You boasted them proudly.

You slipped out of the bed, still naked as the evening before, taking some of the water that had been left for you and heating it up on the small fire, deciding to take a quick bath before making an appearance. Once you were satisfied with the warmth, you slipped in some perfumed oils before getting in yourself. A small contented sound left your lips as you slipped under the water and let it envelope you completely, just as Oberyn had done the night before. Slowly washing your spent body, you couldn’t help the feeling that settled within you; you were happy - truly happy. It was a feeling you hoped that would never disappear. 

Getting out of the water only once it ran cold, you dried yourself off before going to select a dress, wondering if you should opt for something that was more modest and covered, or if you should even bother with worrying. Deciding to settle in the middle, you pulled out a honeyed, golden gown, that was covered just enough to be appropriate, but still made you feel light and airy. 

After you finished getting ready for the day, you left your temporary lodging quarters and made your way through the castle and to the dining hall to see if anyone was still there. People were bustling about their days, chattering excitedly, but making it a point to stop and greet you. It was nice, this ever present and welcoming atmosphere and you couldn’t help but wish this was how it had been throughout your childhood. If everyone was this good and kind, the world would have been a much better place. 

When you entered the sunny, warm hall, you found Lady Dayne sitting there, a book perched in front of her as she leisurely broke her fast. A few people you had yet to meet were mucking about the hall offering you small smiles to which you responded with an even bigger smile. Walking over to Eleonora you sat down beside her, prompting her to close the book and give you her attention. She had a kind face, even if she appeared to be somewhat shy, you hadn’t received any odd feelings from her. 

 “Good morning, Lady Martell,” she said as she waved someone over to bring you some breakfast. You caught her eyes flicking to your neck for the briefest of moments before you cleared your throat and looked away. She giggled lightly before nudging your leg with hers, “there is no shame in pleasure - you mustn’t hide it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed with a wicked little smirk as you straightened up and relaxed slightly. A plate of fine looking foods was quickly placed in front of you, topped off with plenty of fresh fruit, much to your delight. As you reached for the pitcher of fresh juice, you were quickly stopped when a steaming cup of tea was placed next to you instead. You pulled your hand back and looked at it curiously, trying to identify what kind it was. You picked up the cup and smelled the liquid, finding it to be a mostly herbal concoction.

“Moon tea,” the young woman on your side quickly as you let the cup back down in haste. While you’d never had any, or even seen any in person before, you knew exactly what it was.

“I-I don’t understand,” you shook your head and gave her a confused look, “w-why?”

“Come on, silly girl. We both know what moon tea is for,” she stated as if it was obvious, pushing the cup closer to you, “you don’t want to end up with child, do you?”

A million thoughts raced through your mind at once, as you tried to figure out where to even start to unwrap this mystery. You looked back at her with wide eyes, opening and closing your mouth a few times, “what do you mean? I was with my husband...there’s no need.”

“Oh, you are a naive, sweet thing, aren’t you?” suddenly you realized that the girl you had met the evening before was far from an innocent, shy woman. She was quiet, but clever and cunning, “sure you were with your husband but do you really want a child by him? Do you trust him?”

“I-I don’t understand,” you frowned at the tea as a bit of fire sparked in your blood. 

“Your husband is the male equivalent of a whore,” she proclaimed and you almost choked on the berries you were eating. It was a bold accusation, a bold statement coming from one for your husband’s allies, a bold accusation to make to his wife. 

“You dare to-”

“Why are you acting like it is some sort of surprise?” she found it almost laughable, “everyone knows that the Prince sleeps with whoever he pleases. How do you think he ended up with eight bastard children? And if you didn’t know...then you must be more gullible than any could imagine.”

“That’s not...that’s not true,” you insisted meekly, trying to gather up that confidence and courage that your father had always instilled in you, but finding it difficult. Of course you knew the rumors, the whispers, and of course you knew they were true. Oberyn had told you the same, and had always been open and honest about it - but that had been before...before the two of you were married. The fact that she had brought his girls into it, the girls that you already loved and adored, made it sting even harder,  “n-not anymore.”

She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at you with an almost pitying smile on her face as she made a small hmm. She remained silent for a moment, drinking her own cup of tea that had been placed before her. Her eyes were on you the entire time as she downed it in one go, “what? Do you think I want children by a random man? Of course not. If I am to have a child it must be a true heir that no one can question. That will happen one day, but until then, I will have my fun.”

“That sounds like no marriage at all,” you said quietly, “to be sneaking around behind each other’s backs.”

“You are foolish,” she admitted, “that is exactly what a marriage is. It’s a game of give and take, not love. I was from the North once too - I thought you’d be smarter. That you’d understand what this is. My husband does not work to pleasure me, nor do I waste my time with him. We were married for convenience and to produce heirs. Do not mistake your duty for your desires. Love is not something that exists in this world. It’s a falsehood to keep you quelled when you are a child.”

“I did not...my marriage isn’t like yours,” you told her, but you were suddenly wondering...what if it was, but you weren’t privy to it? But...no. You shook your held to yourself and gave her a stern look, “I love my husband, and that entails all of him - his children, his family, him. And h-he loves me. I know he does...”

“Hmm,” she mused softly, the tension in the air was thick and palpable, “do you truly believe that? His left his whore of many years suddenly-”

“Her name is Ellaria, and she was never his whore,” you almost slammed your first on the table as you glared at her. You were liking her less and less with each passing second, “she was his equal, just like I am. And besides all of that, she was the one who ended things with him. Don’t you dare speak ill of her.”

“Whatever the story is,” she decided to pointedly ignore your little outburst, “they’re no longer together. And he found solace in you, you were a mere happenstance of perfect timing and need. How long will it be before he grows tired of you? The little Northern girl who knows nothing about anything? What then? He’ll toss you to the side, leave you with a babe you don’t want, while he goes on and does whatever he wants.”

“That won’t....he would never do such a thing,” you insisted firmly, feeling tears well up in your eyes at her accusations. They made you feel silly and dumb, like nothing more than a little girl, but you knew they couldn’t be true...they weren’t true. He loved you and you loved him, and that wasn’t going to change. 

“I’m sure that’s what Ellaria Sand thought too,” she shrugged, pulling her back towards her. You felt a single tear run down your cheeks as you stared down at your plate, “all men are the same. They want one thing - once they get it, they will be satisfied for some time. And then? They go right back to how they were. It’s not your fault, not anyone’s fault, it’s just the nature of the beast, so do not take it personally. Once you are no longer shiny and new and young and pretty, you’ll be set to the side like so many others. It’s better to prepare yourself for that reality now.”

You remained silent, refusing to acknowledge her, your whole body feeling it was trembling with anger. She was bold in her words, and if you made enough of a deal out of it, you could easily have her in a world of trouble. Who dared to speak to the Prince’s wife in such a manner? 

But before either of you could say another word, a handmaid came and called her. Eleonora stood up and brushed off her skirts, flouncing by you with a small squeeze of your shoulder. You wanted to hate her, to think her evil, but a part of you couldn’t. This was how she was raised, what was instilled in her from childhood. Perhaps you’d be the same if that had been how you were treated for years. But it wasn’t and your marriage wasn’t anything like hers.  You remained there silently for a few moments, collecting yourself as you pushed away the plate still filed with food, having lost your appetite. 

The small cup of tea was still staring back at you, almost if silently taunting you. Suddenly, in spite of your belief that you couldn't have a child, and that if you ever had a child it would be your husband’s, one that he would love, you grabbed the tea and quickly drank it all. It settled into your stomach, leaving you with an odd feeling as you sat there and tried not to cry. 

»»————-　♡　————-«

Once you realized you were felt to your own devices, you decided to explore the grounds and gardens of Starfall, after they came highly recommended by some of the people who worked on them on a daily basis. You’d waited around for Oberyn for some time, but then he never made a return, and while a small part of you wondered if he was okay, you knew he’d be fine. But you couldn’t deny that the words from earlier were still floating around in your mind. You had no rational reason to believe she was right, but you also couldn’t help but wonder…

  What if...what if you were just a shiny, pretty plaything for Oberyn until he got his fill of you and then left you by the wayside? 

He’d never even given you an ounce of worry that would happen. He was the one that told you that you needn’t be his wife if you had no such desire. He told you he loved you...he had meant it. You knew he had meant it. 

Groaning at yourself for getting so caught up in the folly of a woman who was no doubt disillusioned with life and bitter at her fate, you left the grounds and started heading for the waterfall you spotted upon your arrival the previous day. 

It was peaceful here, more temperate than the rest of Dorne, with more green and cooler temperatures. You never thought you’d see this much green and plush foliage outside of the Reach. Taking the beaten path, you wandered in search of the waterfall, hoping you wouldn’t get too lost...surely if you did, someone would come looking for you...they had to. You hoped. 

Pushing your silly worries to the back of your mind, you carried on, stepping over fallen leaves and branches, listening to the sound of all the wildlife around you. It was almost serene and a welcoming change from your morning. The sound of rushing water reaching your ears and you were pleased to find out that you had taken the correct way to get to the rushing water. You were almost here until you were stopped dead in your tracks by the sound of a branch snapping and your name being called out softly. 

Your heart raced, immediately feeling like it was going to burst at the sudden intrusion. It was a voice you did not recognize, and you definitely would have noticed someone following you all the way from the castle. Swallowing thickly, you turned on your heel and looked around to find the source. Your eyes landed on a young woman, with wild, long black hair, and dark copper skin, wearing a blood red dress staring directly at you. You’d never seen her before but somehow she knew your name…

“Who are you?” you asked as you took a step closer to her, despite your mind telling you to stay away, “how do you know my name?”

“I know everything,” she said softly, her voice soft, but accented similarly to Oberyn, “I know your past, present, and future, Lady Beesbury...or perhaps you prefer Martell these days?”

“W-who are you?” you asked as she took a step closer to you and you could make out her beauty in the lowlight. She appeared almost ethereal as she watched you with interest, “are you following me?”

“It does not matter who I am,” she insisted sweetly, “I am not following you. You walked into the wood, this wood, where I happened to be. Just like you were meant to.”

“Meant to?” you stammered, getting more nervous with each passing second. She didn’t seem threatening, although neither had Eleonora earlier, and that turned out to be quite an ordeal,  “I don’t understand.”

“I can sense that you have many questions,” she walked over to you and you didn’t stop. She took you in, her hand taking your chin gently as she studied your face. When you looked closer at her face, you saw that her eyes were milky, and almost completely clouded over. She leaned in close and inhaled your scent as you stood there, wondering what she was possibly going to do, “sweet, innocent, young Lady Martell, formerly of a great house that shamed her for everything she was, married into an even greater house that sees everything she can and will be. So full of hope and great expectations.”

“You’re blind,” you managed to stammer out as she released her hold on you, “h-how can you see me? How do you know? How could you possibly know all of this?”

“I cannot see,” she pointed at her eyes, “but I can see everything.”

“A soothsayer,” you concluded as a small grin tugged on her features.

“Of sorts. They’ve called me many things over the years, soothsayer being one of the kinder things,” she agreed, “you’re troubled by many questions you want answers to. Tell me, young one.”

She appeared to be barely older than you...then again, you wondered just how old she was. From the stories you’d been told over the years, you knew that people proclaiming such divine powers were often much older than they appeared. Maybe she was too...either way, it didn’t matter. You were already deep in her clutches, “how is the moon tea sitting in your belly?”

A flush of warmth immediately went to your cheeks as you hung your head, almost in shame. Letting out a long breath, you said quietly, “terrible. I shouldn’t have consumed it. I gave into such silly folly...but it matters not. I cannot have children...I do not know what possessed me.”

“It’s among many of the things that worry you.”

“Yes,” you gave into her, not even bothering to lie. You remained unsure if you fully believed in the idea of a soothsayer, fortune teller, oracle, whatever they wanted to call themselves, but you knew it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibilities. She had already stunned you by finding you and knowing your name...although those could have been easy guesses for her and yet…

“I can give you all the answers you want,” she said softly, “if you want to know them. Some people prefer the mystery of not knowing.”

“What’s the price?” you asked, knowing that something like this was likely not going to be free, “you’re giving me something, surely you want something in return?”

“I have no need for coin or other such worldly things,” she insisted as she brought an arm around your shoulders, leading you slowly over to the water. You stiffened slowly when she brought you near the edge, so you could barely hear anything over the rushing water. One wrong move and both of you would be tumbling into the roaring stream. How she trusted herself to be so careful you would never know, “sometimes knowing the truth is payment enough.”

“I suppose,” you mumbled as you tried to move back from the edge ever so slightly so you could breathe more easily, but she stood firm and resolute, not wanting to move. For someone with such a slight and waif like build she was rather immovable. 

“Ask me,” she stated simply as you swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling nervous, “ask me about what’s plaguing your mind.”

“M-my husband,” you said quietly.

“Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell.”

“Yes,” you admitted, figuring that it wasn’t weird for her to know that. Almost everyone knew the prince, and they were likely to realize you were his wife, even if they hadn’t not see you before, “he loves me...I think he does...right? It feels so silly to question, but I just..”

“You’re only questioning it since you’ve spoken to Lady Dayne,” she concluded as you nodded slowly. You were so resolute and nonplussed by the opinions of others, but this had stuck with you, “it’s understandable. You are young, she is young, but she, however, is very unhappy in her marriage. But it does not mean you have to be.”

“Oh?”

“His love and devotion for you is true,” she promised and although you had no reason to trust her or believe her, you did. Your heart did a somersault in your chest before settling down and feeling easier than it had been. He loved you....he truly did. But you’d never really questioned that until it was brought into your mind over breakfast, “but that does not mean that it will always be easy. There will be times when you will argue, when you will want to scream at each other, but that does not mean your love is not real.’’

“I did not expect that it would always be easy,” you acknowledged; of course at someone point there had to be something here and there that you would disagree on. It was only natural, “but I love him and I’m always going to be willing to work things out. T-there is...one more thing…well several actually.”

“Ask to your heart’s delight, just know that you might not always like what you hear. Tread carefully…”

“Waylar,” you almost whispered his name as you stared at your feet, “I-I....I just want to know if he’s okay…”

“A young love lost quickly and tragically. He does not suffer anymore, and has not for some time. He does not walk the earthly realm any longer,” she stated immediately and you felt your chest constrict with pain as your breathing grew ragged and shallow. Your knees felt like they were going to give out at the simple answer, and you wished, you so desperately wished that she was wrong. That she was lying and a complete fraud, “he died shortly after arriving at the Night’s Watch. He died of exposure to the elements, and a broken heart.”

You knew she was being truthful. There was no way she could have known that Waylar had been sent to the Night’s Watch unless she was either some kind of stalker, or she really was what she proclaimed to be.

“No,” you said quietly, feeling warm, salty tears slide down your face. You couldn’t believe it, it had just seemed so wrong. You didn’t even bother to wipe away the tears, letting them flow freely, “he didn’t...he’s gone, and it’s all my fault. He’s dead because of me...the only thing he ever did was love me, and it cost him everything. I should have-”

“It does not do well to dwell on the past, on things we cannot change,” she insisted firmly. She was right...what was done was done. He was dead and there was no way to bring him back, not unless you resorted to some of the dark magic you had only rumors about from other lands, “he is gone and there is nothing to be done. Just realize that he did love you while he was alive. I told you that you might not hear what you want…”

“While we’re at it,” you threw your hands up meekly, ready for more pain and hurt. You only blamed yourself and your stubborn curiosity as you tried not to completely break down,  “tell me...will I…will Oberyn and I ever have a child of our own?”

She studied you for a moment, her eyes flicked to your belly for just a moment before looking back at your face. There was an almost unreadable expression on her face as you met her milky eyes. 

“No,” she said softly as you let the one word answer wash over you. You had been sure of that already, almost positive anyway, but it still stung to hear the answer. You would still make it a point to go to a Maester once you returned to Sunspear, but the little bit of possible hope you had clung onto was dissolving. But it would be fine - after all, you didn't need a child of your own and Oberyn had his girls. That was enough, more than enough, already so much more than you could ever have imagined. Then why didn’t it feel like enough? Why did it leave you with a deep longing in your heart?

“I-I didn’t think so,” you confessed quietly, “I was...admittedly not careful when I was with Waylar, so reckless and carefree. I knew there were times when I should have...I should have been with child. But it never happened so I had my doubts…”

“That does not mean you will never be a mother.”

“I am...a stepmother of sorts,” you shrugged, “my husband has daughters, and a few are very young still. I love them all very much.”

“Hmm,” she mused much in the same way as the vicious young woman from earlier. 

“What?”

“There are many ways that one can be a mother,” she answered, “it’s not always just about carrying and birthing a child.”

You remained silent as you nodded at her, letting out a long breath as an influx of thoughts swarmed throughout your mind. There were so many questions that you still had, but the ones that had been loudest and most prominent were answered. Your main fear and worry was definitely quelled, with the reassurance that Oberyn did love you. Your other questions were answered...but still left you feeling unresolved. 

“Having knowledge is not always easy.”

“These were things I would have found out one day anyway,” you shrugged your shoulders, “perhaps finding out the answers has lessened the blow.” 

“Now you know,” the strange woman stated quietly. You had so many questions for her still, but you decided they could wait. Maybe you could see this strange woman again and ask her further questions, “but now you must atone.”

“I-I don’t understand-”

“Like you said yourself, nothing comes without a price,” your brows furrowed because you were sure that she had told you that there was nothing you had to do but live with your answers. You were about to say something else, but her hands quickly went to your shoulders and she pushed you back towards the edge of the waterfall to where you were just managing to hold onto your footing. Your whole body was shaking as you tried to push back and slip past her and to safety. 

“P-please,” you begged as you grew worried that if you took a tumble into the water, that would be your downfall, “n-no.”

“You must atone,” she insisted and with that, she pushed you over the edge and you started to tumble into the water, letting out an ear shattering scream. You were flinging around wildly, groping around to try and grip onto something, but finding purchase on nothing.

You were going to die, you were sure of it. You felt nothing but sheer panic as you braced yourself for the hard crash into the water. When you did, it felt like you were breaking into a million tiny pieces as you finally stopped falling. Your eyes snapped open in the cold water, and you started to swim desperately to the surface to get some air back into your lungs.

The stance to the top felt like it was insurmountable as you swam towards the light, your lungs starting to feel like you were on fire. But you couldn’t just give up - no. So you kept swimming, kicking your legs as hard as possible as you felt the water getting warmer and warmer. 

After what seemed like a small eternity, you broke through the water’s surface, taking in a large, long breath to try and get air back into your lungs. As you swam towards the edge, you were your name being called in a loud, worried voice. You wiped away the water from your eyes as you looked around and found Oberyn running to the edge, dropping to his knees as he held out his arms to help you.

“Oberyn,” you cried out his name meekly as you swam over to him, not bothering to stop him when he hooked his strong arms under yours and dragged to safety on the ground near the water’s edge. You were coughing up a storm, a hand clutching at your chest as you tried to slow and even your breathing. He sat in front of you, but kept a hand protectively on your waist. Warm tears had mixed in with the cold water on your face, making it hard to discern which was which. Once you steadied yourself, you took one look into his worried eyes before throwing your arms around him.

“What happened, my love?” he asked as he held you, his hand immediately going to rub soothing circles on your back as you nestled your face into his shoulder, “I returned and was informed that you had come out here by yourself. I’ve been looking for you for some time and I heard your scream. Please tell you’re alright…”

“Oberyn,” you pulled back and searched his face, holding it in your hands as if to make sure this wasn’t all some sort of dream. Luckily, he felt very real and lifelike in your touch, his warm breath fanning across your face. Before you could stop yourself, you crashed your lips onto his and kissed him an urgent hunger, trying to ground yourself and express just how much you loved him. He kissed you in return, but slowly, ever so slowly, pulled back and gave you a questioning look, “I love you, truly, Oberyn.”

“I love you,” he whispered back, trailing his thumb gently along your bottom lip, “what happened? How did you get so lost in here? And you fell? I was so worried - something horrible could have happened!”

“I just...I wanted to get some fresh air and came out for a walk,” you admitted, deciding to leave out the reason for your strong desire to get away. You weren’t in the mood to get into that whole situation right now, “and I was walking on the path further up towards the waterfall. I-I ran into a woman…”

“A woman?” he questioned, a confused look crossing his features as his brows narrowed, “what do you mean? There’s no one in this forest...the Daynes have people keeping an eye on it constantly....there’s nothing out here but animals.”

“I know what I saw,” you insisted, “I saw her, I spoke to her...she found me. She knew my name, she knew who you were…” 

“A woman here in this forest knew exactly who were were and she found you?” he repeated as you nodded fervently, “you didn’t see her when you walked into the forest? She couldn’t have followed you in?”

“There was no one,” you promised, “I was alone, I swear it…”

“As much as I prefer to think only of positive things,” he sighed quietly, “we have enemies everywhere in the Seven Kingdoms. I would never put it past someone to try and do something to us.”

“She didn’t...no,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, “she wasn’t anything like that. I did not fear her...not until the end anyway. She was a soothsayer -  she was blind, her eyes were milky and white.”

“A soothsayer,” he sounded skeptical but he didn’t sound like he was judging you for your belief in what the woman was, “I don’t think...I don’t think that’s what it was…it was probably just an old woman from the nearby town that wandered off and got lost in the wood.”

“Oberyn,” you wished he could have been there and see her with you, then he wouldn’t take so much convincing...although even you yourself could see that what you were saying sounded off the wall and ridiculous, “it wasn’t an old woman. She looked to be my age...she didn’t seem confused - she knew exactly who I was. She knew things about me that no one would know, no one besides myself or you.”

“What did she know?” he gently grabbed your face, cradling it in his large, warm hands and turned your face slightly, studying to make sure you had no wounds, no injuries on your head or neck area. He tutted lightly when he saw nothing, which relieved him greatly, but still didn’t completely alleviate all of his fears, “are you sure she wasn’t just saying things that seemed to answer questions?”

“She knew about us,” you said, “she knew about...about Waylar and the Night’s Watch...about…”

“Sweet sunshine,” he said softly, “I don’t want to alarm you or worry you in the slightest, but are you sure that you...actually saw someone?”

“W-what do you mean?” you asked pulling back and giving him a strange look, “of course I did. I know what I saw Oberyn, she...she pushed me into the waterfall!”

“She pushed you,” he was incredulous at your declaration as you nodded fervently.

“Yes,” you remained steadfast in your opinion, “she gave me answers to questions, and said I had to atone...and then she pushed me.”

“Honey,” the term of endearment was sweet…different from what he’d normally called you, but a welcome one. It brought a small smile to your face, “are you sure, I don’t want to make any assumptions as I was not there, but do you think it’s a possibility that you tripped over something and fell? Have you hit your head at all?”

“I didn’t...fall,” you said softly, although a cloud of confusion was now hanging over you. Maybe...maybe something had happened...and you had taken a tumble or.... Maybe there was something in the tea you had consumed earlier than had caused you to have some sort of wild, vivid hallucinations? With how cunning Eleonora had been at breakfast, you honestly wouldn’t put it past her to have done something of the sort. 

The idea of imagining the whole encounter with the mysterious soothsayer was wild, but did the idea of her existence at all. If you were feeling the effects of something, who was to say that you couldn’t have made up the encounter in your mind and then trip and fell. When you really thought about it, none of it seemed out of the realm of possibilities. 

Oberyn sighed softly as he touched your cheek before pressing his lips to your forehead, “whatever happened, I’m glad you are okay. I was so worried when I couldn’t find you at first and then I heard a scream. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

“I’m okay,” you promised quietly, now wondering if you had actually met a mysterious woman or if it was real. You shook your head in a vain attempt to get her out of your mind, “I’m okay. Thank you for saving me.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t do much…”

“You did,” you promised, gently touching on his now damp tunic, “you helped, I promise.”

He just offered you a small smile as he held, kissing the crown of your head, “this woman...you said she answered questions you had...what did you ask of her?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you insisted as you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat, “it wasn’t anything important. Follies really…”

“If you’re sure,” he said softly as you offered him a gentle smile, “if anything...you know you can talk about anything to me.”

“I know,” you promised, “I know. You know...you know that when I say I love you, I mean it, right?”

“Of course,” he laughed lightly as he gave you a quick peck, “and I love you, something you never doubt, my sunshine.”

You simply nodded at him before burrowing into his chest. He loved you, you reminded yourself, he loved you. Just as you loved him.

“C-can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything,” he promised.

“Can we return to Sunspear?” you asked, a small frown crawling onto your face as he seemed surprised at your sudden request, “we can take the long route home, but I think I’d like to be back home…”

“Did something happen?” he could tell that something did - otherwise you wouldn’t have made the request so suddenly. You thought about lying to him, about making some weird excuse, but you knew it was best to be upfront with him, especially in this situation. 

“I don’t think everything here is as it seems,” you confessed, “things are not as serene as they appear. Lady Dayne made sure I was aware of that this morning.”

“What did she-”

“It’s no matter,” you promised him, “I’m just not sure how welcome we really are. Her words were not very kind this morning. I suspect that she does not think I would tell you any of it, but I don’t want...I don’t want anything like what she and her husband have. I like what we have. I like that I love you. And I like the man that you are, and what can be and will be. I like...us.”

“I like us as well,” he returned the sentiment, “we shall head back for Sunspear come the morrow. Does that sound okay? We shall be home within a fortnight. I’ll send a raven to let them know we are to return sooner than expected, and to prepare our room.”

“Our room?” you asked with a hint of a smile tugging on your features.

“Yes,” he gently, almost seeming shy, “I thought we might...share our chambers upon our return. Unless of course, you’d like to remain in separate quarters…”

“No,” there was nothing but excitement in your voice, “I’ll love that. Really - there is nothing I’d like more than sharing your bed every night, my moon and stars.”

“My sunshine,” he seemed relieved as he slowly up and helped you to do the same, “you make me happy like no other.”

“So do you, Oberyn,” you said quickly followed by a small oof as he swooped you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style. You kissed the tip of his nose before the two of you broke into a fit of giggles.

You still had a million questions floating around in your mind, but they could all wait for later. 

Right now, nothing else but this moment mattered.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[mirukupuddin]

Stardust Crusaders + Aftercare

ANON ASK: Stardust Crusaders (seperately) reacting to you using your safeword O///O

(A/N: Safewords are really important when practicing BDSM, so please if you guys are practising it, make sure it’s safe, sane and consensual as always hehe. Joot and Kak are 21+, I hope it’s okay I aged them up!)

Content Warning: Safeword use, mentions of BDSM, Waxplay, Spanking, Shibari 

Jotaro Kujo

His chest heaved, as he reached to uncuff you, rubbing your tender wrists. He wordlessly undid your blindfold

“Blink a couple of times.” He said in an even tone, a hand running through your hair gently.

“I-I’m sorry” You said teary-eyed, looking up to your lover’s aquamarine gaze.

“Shh, don’t apologise (Y/n). You did so well, you were so good for me.” He hushed you, cradling your smaller form in his brawny arms. He moved you to sit on his lap, as if you were made of glass, with utmost gentleness.  “Do you want me to get you anything? Water? Tea?” He murmured into your hair

You gripped onto him feeling so exposed and vulnerable, shaking your head. You shuffled, feeling his erection still being pressed against the back of your leg. A soft, breathless giggle emitting from you “You don’t want me to deal with that?” Your eyes meet his causing him to turn away in embarrassment.

“Good grief, woman. Could you think about yourself right now?” He sighed, snuggling you closer, bringing a blanket to cover the both of you. “Did anything…urm…do you wanna talk about it”

“It was just a lot, love. I don’t know.” You rested your head against his chest, interlocking your fingers with his.  He didn’t say anything, instead he just listened to you.

“I’m here, (Y/n), just rest.” He leaned back, the sound of his heart lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

 Kakyoin Noriaki

His reaction was immediate, hands going to untie your contorted body. Hierophant green almost instantaneously emerged to help unravel the knots across your body. You were shaking, body still unexplainably sensitive. Kakyoin grabbed a blanket, covered your vulnerable shivering form.

“Sweetheart, open your eyes, take a few deep breaths.” He whispered, holding onto your hand. You did just that, your half lidded (e/c) orbs meeting his own concerned filled ones. You crawled towards him, resting your head on his laps, gripping onto his white dress shirt. His fingers threaded through your (h/c) locks, smiling as he could hear you humming in approval.

“I’m so proud of you, my beautiful (Y/n).” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, before grabbing a bottle of water from the bedside table. You sat up, your lover supporting you as you sipped the water. His hand gently rubs circles on your hips, kissing the crown of your head.

“Shall I run us a bath? I can put the nice herbal soak to help with the muscle pain?” You nodded vehemently at the idea. Kakyoin’s smile reached his eyes, rolling his sleeves up to prepare the bubble bath.

“Noriaki…” You whispered

“Yes, my love?” He looked over to you stretching out you arms and legs, a smile dancing on your features.

“I love you”

“I love you more” He grinned back

 Jean-Pierre Polnareff

His hand was raised to spank you for the twenty-fourth time when he heard you yelp out your safeword. He froze up a bit feeling unexplainably guilty that he had pushed you that far. He lifted the top half of your body to sit up, your faced scrunched up in pain and wincing at the pressure on your behind. Polnareff reached for the box he left by the bed, a box that contained massage oil, antiseptic and some aloe vera cream. “Ma cheri, lie on your side” He said in a hushed tone. You did as he said, his hands smoothing along your behind, the soreness slowly dying down.

“Je t’aime, (Y/n). You are my everything, I’m sorry if I hurt you.” You felt guilty hearing the remorse in his voice.

You let out a soft moan, feeling the relief and calmness washing over you. Your lover was watching you in worry, thinking he had pushed you over the edge. You went to caress his cheek feeling him calm under your touch. He leaned into your softer palm, kissing the back of your hand.

“Stop trying to be so suave, Jean,” You let out a chuckle seeing the Frenchman pout at you.

“Well sue me for worrying! I didn’t want you to get hurt that badly and h-“  He cut himself up feeling a little choked up, causing you to erupt into giggles  

“It’s not funny (Y/n)!” He pushed his bottom lip out in his best puppy eyed expression. You pulled him down, lovingly pecking his cheek.

“I love you too, you dummy.”

  Abdul Mohammed

Your body jolted, trembling from the wax that was dripping onto your body. Being blindfolded was one thing, it was another thing to put this amount of trust into your lover to dribble scolding wax onto your chest. So, when you yelped out your safeword, Abdul instantaneously stopped his ministrations. His hands, previously inflicting molten wax onto your eager body, now gently caressing your cheeks and whispering praises in a honeyed voice. As the wax became stiffer on your body, he looked to you for approval to start cleaning you up. With a dazed nod in his direction, he began peeling the hardened wax from your trembling form.

 “are you comfortable, Habibti?” He said in a hushed tone, running his fingers along your back. You nodded, snuggling into the muscular man’s chest. “I can run a cool bath for you.” Your grip on his shirt tightened, smoothing over his arms and gently touching his scarred cheek.  It truly was moments like this, despite the momentary feeling of being overwhelmed, his big heart shined through. You knew he would never want to hurt you intentionally, and that’s why there was this trust built between you.

“Hmm, stay for a bit, this is nice” You smiled into the crook of his neck, feeling him chuckle.

 “Of course, anything for you.”

 Joseph Joestar

“Come on, little lady, have some water, there are some cookies here too” His eyebrows were knotted with concern, a brawny arm still around your trembling form. You accepted, gulping down half the bottle and nibbling on a couple cookies, your eyes brightened up, meeting his cerulean ones. You set the bottle and plate on the side table, Joseph sitting back in the bed. You clambered to sit on top of him, a blush dusting his cheeks at the connotations

“Ohoho you already want more of me huh?” he chuckled, you whined at his teasing.

You were straddled on his thighs, he continued to pepper kisses all over your face, gently rocking you as you almost felt yourself being lulled into sleep. His stubble scuffed against your cheek, making you giggle. Joseph chuckled and continued to nuzzle into you, knowing it would make you laugh.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay now.” You kissed his cheek

“You promise?” He looked at you with puppy eyes, holding you tighter

You laughed, no matter how old this man got, his maturity, or lack thereof, always seemed to shine through.

“I promise.”

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, sub!jungkook, dom!reader, pegging, anal play, rimming, multiple orgasms, crying during sex, jk being a good good boy, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, bath sex, ageplay/DDlg, fingering, unprotected sex, pet names, spanking, creampie, aftercare in both cases

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and jk’s ass

DAY EIGHTEEN

All things considered; you were rather lucky to be sharing a room with Yoongi when you wake up that morning.

The second consciousness returns to you, it brings a feeling of nausea so abrupt that you’re careening off the bed and rushing to bed over the toilet without a second’s thought, body running on survival mode.

You’re not sure what wakes Yoongi - the sudden absence of pressure and heat against him, or the sound of you throwing up all the food and alcohol you’d consumed last night – but it takes mere moments before you feel him gently caressing your trembling body, lifting your tangled hair back off your face.

“Just let it out,” he coos softly as you bend over miserably, the sour taste on your tongue making your stomach turn again, “you’ll feel better after, I promise. That’s it.”

The moment you finally have nothing left to empty out, you collapse sideways onto the cool bathroom tile, hand curling over your stomach. Yoongi gets up to flush the toilet and gets out a spare toothbrush from under his sink, pressing it into your hand already prepped with toothpaste. “I’m sorry,” you mumble lowly, nose running slightly as you sniffle. “I think I drank too much. That green apple soju fucking sucks, too.”

The doctor has the good graces to smile at your attempt of lightening the mood, but it’s strained, waiting for you to begin brushing the acrid leftovers from your mouth before speaking. “You’d better have a light breakfast, okay? Some toast and maybe a cup of herbal tea to settle your stomach. Can you stand? I’ll get you some fresh clothes from your room while you take a shower here.”

Your heart warms at his endearing bedside manner. “I’ll be fine, Yoongi.”

“It’s non-negotiable, I’m afraid,” Yoongi says with a mock sigh. “Come on; you can wash your hair, too. Feeling nice and clean will help.”

Sniffing one last time, you give him an agreeing nod and hunker up on your knees, before standing. God, but why do you still feel so nauseous? That fucking soju. Yoongi must see the discomfort on your face, because he gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Not to worry, I’m sure I have something here you can take which will make you feel better. You aren’t the first person to not handle their liquor in the villa.”

You give him a questioning frown, your throat feeling raw as you clear it lightly. “What do you mean? Everyone seemed okay yesterday.”

“Hoseok texted me,” Yoongi answers with a shrug. “I didn’t see it ‘til after you fell asleep, but apparently poor Tae was curled up with a hot water bottle last night feeling rather sorry for himself. I think he got a little trigger-happy on his Sprite and soju mixers.”

Your brows furrow in concern, your own condition forgotten. “Is he alright?” You mentally kick yourself for not being more attentive to him. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel excluded now that he was voted out.

“He’s fine, I’m sure. Hoseokie and Jimin apparently actually spent the night in the bunk room with him, because both refused to leave. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.”

“Holy shit,” you muse. “If you weren’t so busy filling me like a cream puff maybe we could’ve witnessed that.”

Yoongi’s mouth gapes at your jibe, and you let out a hiccupping giggle when he rushes you, jabbing at your sides. “You little shit! That’s how you repay me after yesterday?”

You chuckle, feeling significantly more cheerful than when you woke up. “I gotta keep you humble, Doctor Min.”

His shoulders jump with a fond huff. “You’re impossible,” he gives in with a begrudging smile. “Now go; shower! I’ll be back.”

By the time you’re downstairs, enjoying some lightly buttered toast and an aromatic peachy-tasting tea - laughing with Taehyung who has slunk downstairs like a viscous goop, slumped on the table sucking on a vitamin table - any concerns or worries about your brief vomiting spell have entirely left your mind.

--

Jungkook is antsy.

He cycles madly between intense eye-contact and complete avoidance of your existence, looking for all intents and purposes like a deer in headlights. You imagine it’s because he wants to do his prompt today, and you certainly could dispel the awkward tension by just asking him if he wants to go upstairs or texting him to dig a little, but where would the fun in that be? You much prefer cuddling with Taehyung and a chunky blanket, pretending to watch The Voice of Korea while you really watch Jungkook squirm instead.

Taehyung sighs wistfully as a contestant finishes with a belted high note, all four judges slamming down their buttons and giving the cameras big reactions once they turn and catch a glimpse of the singer. “I wish I could be on the show,” the masseuse says with another slow sigh.

You grin, poking him in the cheek with a single finger. “Is our puppy a good singer, huh? Do you reckon you’d win?”

“What?” Taehyung asks distractedly, his eyes locked to the screen. “No, I wanna sit in those big chairs and spin around. It’d be so fun.”

Your surprised laugh makes Jungkook jump in his seat, even as he sits on the opposite couch to the two of you and glares intensely at the pages of a comic book he’d stolen from someone, spending far too long on one page to actually be reading it.

Hoseok, who sits completely silently next to Jungkook - extremely strange for the normally bubbly man - is even more suspicious. Every few seconds, he shoves his phone under Jungkook’s nose, before pulling it away and typing furiously.

You had no doubt in your mind that he was giving the youngest contestant salacious tips, instructions, or both, judging by the way Jungkook’s cheeks get hotter with every message.

A lazy day after the drunken entertainment from the day before, the four of you had chosen to collapse onto the couch and stay there, flicking between channels as you idly enjoyed each other’s company. Namjoon had texted the groupchat and put a note on his door warning people that he was studying for an exam for a summer course he’d signed up for. This was the first you’d heard of said course, but his messages had contained several exclamation points, so you knew it was serious.

Jimin was also making the most of his privacy. The only glimpse you’d seen of him at all today was while you and Taehyung were cleaning your dishes. He’d rushed down in a fluffy white bathrobe, covering his face with his sleeve, bemoaning the drinking that had done serious damage to his clear skin. When he dropped his sleeve to bundle some ice into a paper towel, it looked fine to you, albeit pinker in the cheeks and forehead than his bare face had been before, but he swore the two of you to silence and determined he was going to lock himself into his room until he no longer looked like “an evil stepmother.”

Jin and Yoongi were nowhere to be found, though most of the house were almost certain they’d become something akin to fuckbuddies considering how often they disappeared together, and how rampant and shameless their sexual tension was whenever they cooked together for the rest of you.

It had taken a while for Taehyung to bounce back from his hangover, Hoseok fussing over him like a child as Tae clung to you for some tactile comfort. Spending a day by yourself hadn’t really been an option when you’d been cuddling with him for hours, but you were far happier spending some quality time with the masseuse.

It takes no more than three new contestants on the TV show to have their moment in front of the judges for Jungkook to break. Hoseok’s given up on the phone messages, instead whispering directly Jungkook’s ear as the boy clutches the open comic book in front of his lap  so hard his knuckles go white.

Laughing at the flustered camboy, Hoseok loses all tact and stops damping his voice, his natural level loud enough that you can make it out over the garishly aggressive appliance store advertisement on the TV. “Come on, Kookie, it’ll be great!” he insists, Jungkook cringing at the volume. “Switching things up will help your chances for fan favourite too, and surely you’ve done-”

Jungkook stands up abruptly, comic book still propped up in front of his crotch as his cheeks and neck go bright red. “If you like pegging so much, why don’t you do it, then?” he blurts with a cry, before the realisation of what he said aloud hits him. Choking on air, he just about trips back onto the couch in his haste to leave, stomping upstairs like a wronged teenager.

Everyone goes silent, a cheery female voice announcing that Subway’s quality is higher than ever being the only sound in the room. Mouth open, you blink over to Hoseok. “Should I… go check on him?”

“Uh- Yeah, maybe,” he admits, a slight pained look of guilt flickering across his face before he brightens up. “But it’s dangerous; you should take a strap with you.”

You pause halfway through standing up, Taehyung letting go of you and curling deeper into the pile of blankets. “Have you no shame, Hoseok? You humiliated the poor kid!”

Hoseok grins broadly. “He only reacted that much because he liked the idea,” he protests, before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “And what about you, princess? Do you like the idea?”

You swallow, straightening up fully. “I haven’t really thought about it until now, I guess,” you offer up slowly. “I’m not- I’m not opposed.” But even as you say that, you begin to picture it. Jungkook on all fours in front of you, or perhaps spread out on his back, brows furrowed in pleasure, clingy and whiny. Though it was certainly new ground to you, most things were these days, and you’ve started craving fresh experiences, feeling more alive and excited about sex than you’ve ever really felt before.

A lightly huffed laugh leaves Hoseok’s lips. “I’d say you’re a little more than ambivalent, judging by that look on your face. Go upstairs now, princess; Jungkook’s ass needs you.”

You scoff, patting Taehyung’s cheek goodbye before leaving the way the maknae left earlier. Upstairs, Jungkook’s door is open the slightest sliver. A shy invitation.

You knock anyway, calling out his name. When his sullen voice invites you in, you slip inside and shut the door behind you. With his head hanging, shoulders slumped, poor Jungkook looks miserable. “Oh, Gukkie, baby, you’re okay,” you soothe, rushing to his side.

Folding his hands cutely over his crotch, he keeps his head down, but nuzzles against your stomach when you pull him into an embrace, running your hands through the long, heavy black locks of his hair. “‘M sorry,” he murmurs, lifting a single hand to ball his fist in the fabric of your shirt.

Your heart warms at the little action even as it aches for his sadness. “What are you sorry for? You don’t have to be sorry.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you can just about hear the pout. “Embarrassed,” he explains shortly. “You probably think it’s gross.”

“Of course I don’t,” you deny in a soft yet firm voice, still stroking his hair. “Baby, if you want me to do it for you, I will.”

He looks up suddenly, chin propped up on your stomach. “Really?” he asks in hope, eyes glittering like entire galaxies.

You shrug. “I mean, I haven’t used a strap-on before, so it probably won’t be very good, but I wanna try if it’s something that would make you happy, you know?”

Jungkook’s mouth parts sweetly, before he lets out a dejected breath. “I don’t know,” he says with a sigh, letting his head drop off you again. “I still feel really embarrassed. Hobi-hyung was te-teasing me so much.”

You wince at the way his voice hitches and wobbles, like he’s on the verge of tears. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” you coo. “I think he was just trying to encourage you. But if he made you uncomfortable, I can go down there right now and-”

As you start to shift away, a hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist, snagging you in place. “No,” Jungkook interrupts quickly, before turning sullen again, lifting up his head so that you can just barely see his eyes, gleaming with unshed tears. “Can you just stay with me?”

Reaching forward to cup his cheek and bring his gaze up, you send him your warmest smile. “I’ll stay,” you promise, “want me to help cheer you up? I don’t like seeing my Gukkie so sad.”

His bottom lip quivers as he nods, fingers tightening around your wrist, tugging you back to his side. “Yes, please,” he asks politely, voice still so hesitant as his gaze drops like he’s too shy to meet yours, face pressing into your palm. “Want you to make me feel better.”

Your breath hitches when his eyes dart up, just for a second, and reveal a glimmer that isn’t tears so much as mischief. You realise quickly that perhaps Jungkook is pulling on your heartstrings intentionally, luring you in just like he did the day after the fight, when everyone in the house bent over backwards to give him what he wanted. But you aren’t mad; truth be told, every second that passes, you grow more excited about what’s to come. “Of course I will,” you reply warmly. “Can I give you a kiss, baby?”

One thing you aren’t prepared for as you carefully straddle his lap and press your lips against his is just how differently he kisses when he’s in this submissive frame of mind. You’d associated Jungkook with hunger, fierce passion and need. This Jungkook was needy, but in a very different way. Lips parted, he tilts his chin and lets you take over, his fingers curling tightly in the fabric of your shirt, his long hair tickling against your cheeks.

And unlike the more dominant Jungkook that would kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, the camboy now seems impatient, hips shifting under you and whines leaving his throat as he breaks apart, lips swollen. “Will you fuck me, Y/n? I need you.”

Sucking in a breath, you’re nodding before you’ve even really processed his words. “How do I, uh, what should I-”

“The stuff’s in my nightstand drawer,” Jungkook offers up in explanation. The young man bites his lip, looking positively delectable. In a starch-white t-shirt that simultaneously swamps his figure but exposes his delicate collarbones with the v-neck, and his long locks tucked behind his ears, no imagination is required to see how easily he fits into this subby persona. Even as he’s physically much larger than you, and there’s no hiding his thick thighs and broad shoulders, his expression and posture alone convey plenty. “But, um… Could you- could you help prepare me first? I can if you’re uncomfortable, you know. No pressure.”

“I can,” you assure quickly, standing up when he wriggles meaningfully beneath you. “I mean, I want to. Is it, you know…?” You trail off, watching Jungkook scoot himself back so that his feet don’t quite touch the floor. He tilts his head in confusion. “Clean?” you hiss softly, cheeks flaming.

Jungkook freezes, eyes wide and mouth parted in a small o. “I- Yeah, it’s, uh, clean, I-”

“Sorry,” you grimace, “that totally ruined the mood, didn’t it? I’m new to this.”

“You don’t have to, honestly,” Jungkook says with a small voice, fiddling with the loose threads in the rips of his jeans. “I can do it.”

You’re really fucking this up, huh? “No, no, I want to, it’s fine!”

“I swear, I won’t be offended if it weirds you out-”

Without a pause to think, your lips are moving. “Pants off, Gukkie, I’m going to finger you,” you announce in a firm voice, chin jutting forward in your determination.

You hadn’t even intended to use it as power play, more so just insisting what you were okay with, but his reaction is undeniable. Jungkook visibly melts at your command, eyelids fluttering for a moment and shoulders going lax. Even his socked feet turn inwards, the complete posture of submission. The image of it sends heat through you, and you feel alive with it.

“Th-thank you,” Jungkook stutters, chest hitching. “How do you want me?”

Even though you don’t know the least about fingering or prepping, you’re quickly growing addicted to the way he responds to your authority, so you make a split second decision. “All fours, baby. And clothes off for me.”

Jungkook bites down a whine - how you wish he wouldn’t muffle himself - but obeys quickly, stripping all the way down to his socks, toeing them off hastily before getting on his knees. Clearly a position he’s used to, the camboy wastes no time in presenting himself, upper torso flat against the bed and back arched up to expose himself. With a cheek pressed against the mattress to look back at you, his hair slips over and covers his face.

Before he has the chance to huff, you reach forward and tuck it back behind his ear, tapping your finger once on his nose to make him scrunch it, a toothy grin on his face. “Y/n!” he protests with a hiccupy giggle.

“What?” you ask innocently. “I’m just trying to help out, baby. Can I ask you a favour?”

Jungkook’s grinning so widely that his eyes crinkle. “You’re the dom, Y/n, you don’t need to ask favours, you know?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right,” you muse. It’s so easy to forget that the control is yours, especially when you’re a bit out of your depth. Resolving yourself to be more authoritative, you clear your throat and school your expression. “Mouth open, Gukkie.”

Following your command so quickly that there’s an audible sound, Jungkook braces himself up a little with his forearms so that he can face you better with his jaw wide open and tongue lolled out on his bottom lip.

When you place your first two fingers of your dominant hand on that pretty pink tongue, you don’t even have to command him to suck before he’s wrapping his lips around them and hollowing his cheeks, blinking up at you for approval.

You try and use the past couple weeks of dirty talk from the guys to inspire you when talking to Jungkook, using your other hand to comb the hair back from his face again. “That’s it, baby,” you croon, “nice and wet; soak them for me. What a good boy.”

Keening under your praise, still bent over on his knees, Jungkook swirls his tongue and salivates over your digits diligently. It feels strange; the hot wet cavern, the muscle covering every inch of your skin. Your stomach flips in arousal when you begin to tug your fingers out and he pulls off them with a pop, drool on his chin and pupils blown wide.

“Alright, Gukkie, stay there,” you indicate, holding your spit-slicked fingers aloft as you get on the bed behind him. Cock dangling hard between his legs, he’s hunkered down, heels pressed against his upper thighs. You could easily reach him from here, but there’s something rising within you, an urge to play with him a little rougher.

He jumps and lets out a surprised cry when you rain down your other palm on his asscheek in a swift spank, head falling back to the mattress.

“Did I say you could lie down? Ass up, Gukkie,” you spit sharply, satisfaction curling around your ribs as he lifts his hips without delay, back arching beautifully to present himself once again. A roughly hand-shaped pink flush on his otherwise unblemished skin makes you bite your lip. “Colour?”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, fingers fisting the sheets. You fear the worst for a second, but it seems like it just took him a second to comprehend you, because just as soon as the worry rises, he lets out a cute gasp of realisation and spreads his knees further. “Green, so green.”

“Good boy,” you praise, relief clear in your voice. “A single hair out of position without my permission and there’ll be more where that came from.” Though you secretly admit spanking the responsive boy feels good in some odd way, you’d feel a lot better knowing when he’d intentionally stepped out of line, and so giving him a specific avenue assuages some of your potential guilt over the impact play. He seems to understand too, nodding his head sweetly and visibly flexing this thighs to keep steady.

This isn’t usually an angle you’re used to seeing on a guy, but as you gently circle the tight muscle of his rim, you marvel at how Jungkook still makes it look good. Entirely free of hair, ass, thighs and back thick and sculpted, it’s clear the visual is an important thing, especially in his line of work.

You can feel his body go slightly stiff when he holds his breath, but the slightest pressure makes him tremble, his eyes loosely shut as he focuses on pure sensation. Wary of the spit drying off your fingers too soon, you swiftly but smoothly slide your first finger all the way inside of him. There’s resistance up until the first knuckle as he clenches, but once you reach a certain point it’s like his body is letting you in. So tight that you can feel his walls flex, it’s an odd sensation to get used to, but you know from experience that the first intrusion feels odd to receive, too, and that only building up stimulation helps get past it.

For that reason, you don’t pause much before you begin fucking your one finger into him, using your other hand to grasp the flesh of his ass and part him. “Doing so well, baby,” you compliment when Jungkook lets out a guttural, drawn-out whine. Minutely, you feel his hips rock, seeking stimulation in the right place. You know he’s probably aching for his prostate to be touched, but you haven’t the slightest clue on where to find it.

Instead, your next best option is external. Once you draw your first finger out and start to stretch his rim on two, you reach around and under him, hand wrapping around his cock.

Startled, Jungkook goes iron-tight around your two fingers and cries out. You freeze, worried you’ve done something wrong, but he rocks himself back, burying your fingers deeper inside him.

Even in your uncertainty on how to proceed, you know one thing: he’s actively chosen to move out of place.

This time when you drop his length and come back up to spank him, he moans, face going lax and dopey. “Fu-fuck, please,” he breathes, “I’m sorry, I need more.”

“You need more?” you ask, soothing a palm over the reddened skin. “I didn’t realise you were in any position to be making demands, baby.”

Jungkook swallows heavily. “Please give me more, I can take it, please.”

“That’s more like it,” you state proudly, before cringing at how cheesy the words sound to your own ears. Although taking control is fun, you don’t feel as at ease with a filthy tongue like you were used to the others being. Jungkook however, unable to see your reaction, just makes a needy noise in his throat, hotly anticipating your next move.

As you start to move your fingers again, however, they don’t glide like they did before. Unlike a proper lubricant, his saliva has evaporated away, and the dry friction certainly can’t be pleasant.

He’d said the supplies were in his nightstand, but that’s well out of your arm span, so, thinking quickly and not wanting Jungkook to feel uncomfortable, you pull your fingers out gingerly, bend down and spit directly onto his winking hole, some of it disappearing inside as the rest runs down to his balls.

Since he insisted he could take it, you hook three fingers inside him, his hole stretching around you as he groans. There’s so much pressure on your fingers as you plunge inside, the friction aided by your saliva, and you can feel the way he tries to relax himself, clenching periodically.

As much as the spit helped, you become paranoid that it’ll dry out again as you stretch him on your fingers. Still too far from the lube, the thought occurs to you that you could keep him wetter if you just used your mouth.

The thought isn’t entirely unappealing to you. Sure, he doesn’t have the same nerves that make you feel so good when someone goes down on you, but you’re sure he’d enjoy it, and you’re reassured that he’d cleaned himself.

The second your tongue traces his rim, pressing between the tight ring and your knuckles, Jungkook gasps, before letting out a moan so high and keening that you practically salivate.

With your free hand inching around to grip his thigh and steady yourself, you press your chin between his ass cheeks and lap at him, fingers speeding up now that they’re better lubricated.

His hips won’t stay still, but you can’t blame him. From the constant trail of cries and whimpers, there’s no doubt Jungkook is extremely sensitive. Slowly, the thought of stretching him out for a purpose leaves your mind, and you begin to take your time with him, enjoying the feeling and sound of him falling apart from your touch.

You could get used to this; the meaty thighs trembling, the heaving breaths, the moans of your name on his tongue. At one point, your middle finger grazes a slightly protruding spot inside him, a different texture to the rest of his walls. The second it does, he jumps like he’s been electrocuted. Aha.

“Oh, fuck, feels s-so good, please do that again, fuck,” Jungkook babbles hopelessly. Your grip on his thigh quickly morphs from steadying yourself to holding him steady, as he jerks with every repeated stroke of your finger against his prostate.

Unable to respond verbally, you stiffen your tongue and push it deeper inside him as your fingers speed up, all corkscrewing directly towards that sensitive spot.

So noisy that he buries his own face in the blankets, rocking back desperately onto your face and fingers, Jungkook’s pleading and praises are garbled, one long stream of need until he finally lets out one loud, sharp cry and paints the mattress white.

Lifting yourself up to watch him cum, you speed up your fingers to ride him through it, devouring the sight of his red, untouched cock twitching and shooting ropes of cum as his whole body shudders with it.

There’s the undeniable warmth of pride in your chest at watching him cum so beautifully, at hearing and seeing the pleasure you’ve given him. You’d give anything to make him cum at your hands over and over, and in the back of your mind you marvel at how so many things the guys did to you when they dommed you make sense now.

Slowly, he comes back down from his high, chest heaving rhythmically as he catches his breath, going slack. You guide him to roll over onto his back, avoiding the puddle of quickly-cooling cum, and sit beside him brushing back the hair that clings to his sweaty face.

A dopey smile puffing up his cheeks, and eyes hazy, he blinks up at you. “That was so good,” he breathes.

Keeping your voice sweet, you raise a brow. “Do you think we’re done just because you came, Gukkie? I don’t think so.”

His smile falters, eyes regaining some of their clarity. “I- Oh, you didn’t- Do you want me to...?” he trails off, eyes falling down to between your legs, still fully clothed.

Though you’d love for him to make you cum - truth be told, your nerves feel like they’re working doubletime right now, and you know it wouldn’t take much - you shake your head, standing up off the bed. Jungkook whines and sits up slightly as you pull away, but freezes once you begin to undress in front of him.

Unbuttoning your shirt, you feel his eyes follow your movements hungrily. “I never even gave you permission to cum, baby,” you point out. “I also didn’t ask you not to, so I won’t punish you. But you did ask for me to fuck you and make you feel better.” The fabric of your shirt falling to the floor, you leave your bra on and slip off your pants instead. “So I don’t care how sensitive you are or how many times you cum, I’m going to fuck you until you feel so good you cry. Is that understood?”

Where such vulgarity came from you don’t know, but it triggers the right reaction, Jungkook going limp against the bed, grabby hands flexing at the sheets as he nods as quick as he can, one drifting dangerously close to his still half-hard cock. “Please, I wan’ it. Yes.”

“Wait patiently, then,” you command in a cutting tone, discarding your underwear without ceremony, “and no touching.”

He lets out a quiet huff, leg kicking out and hand slipping under his back to stop temptation. You would laugh at the bratty display - or perhaps even punish him for the attitude - but you’re too focused on stepping into the black harness of the strap-on you got from  Jungkook’s nightstand, working out how to tighten the straps and sit it right.

It takes you a moment to get right, but it’s surprisingly comfortable once you get it into place - which probably is the point. Though it’s odd feeling weight extending from your pelvis, the dildo is supported by a leather belt-like strap that runs around your waist. Right on the outer line of each hip, adjacent straps run down, under the curve of your ass and connect to the central one that sits between your legs like panties, albeit narrow and stiffer than fabric.

You’d seen ones with a second dildo facing inwards to go inside the wearer as they fucked someone else, but this didn’t have one, so instead your only stimulation was the slight heat when the leather would drag against your swollen clit. Happy to forgo your own pleasure for the sake of pleasuring Jungkook, you reach in the nightstand drawer again to pull out the lube.

Unlike Hoseok’s travel-sized bottle, the base of the drawer is littered with sample size packets of multiple brands. Mixed in with foil condom packets, you spy oil-based lubes, water-based ones, some scented, self-heating, even one that claims to be strawberry flavoured. Reaching for a basic water-based one, you rip it open and use it to slick up the dildo.

Jungkook watches you raptly, hips wiggling against the bed either in impatience or the effort it takes not to touch himself. Hyper-aware of the appendage that dangles in front of you, and how slippery your hands currently are, you imagine hunkering on the bed without using your hands probably isn’t a very sexy look, so instead you stand to the side of the mattress and instruct him to come to you.

He does so with obvious enthusiasm and anticipation. The earlier haze of his orgasm dissipating, his eyes are alert and his lips are stretched in an unconscious grin. Splayed out on his back, legs dangling on either side of your hips, Jungkook looks so content to hand over his dominance to you that your heart swells slightly at the sentiment of it.

Clearly Jungkook isn’t feeling as soft as you. On the contrary, his cock looks so hard it must be physically hurting him, the tip weeping precum onto his belly as he arches his back to entice you. “Please, Y/n,” he whines, hitching a foot up onto the edge of the mattress to bare himself more fully. “Gukkie needs it.”

Though it’s more your own hesitation rather than any desire to make him beg for it, you can’t deny that the sweet entreating voice is music to your ears and core, and pushing aside all worries you find yourself guiding his opposite leg up with a slippery hand, before lining your synthetic cock against Jungkook’s rim.

Immediately, before you even enter him, he keens, and although you can’t literally feel him rocking back towards it, you watch it catch on the muscle and begin to slip inside, and the resistance can be felt as a pressure against your pelvis where the base of the dildo is fastened.

“De-deeper,” Jungkook makes out with a gasp, his fingers reaching up to clutch at your wrist, and you push past the resistance to drive the dildo inside him, slowly but smoothly. His breath hitches, back lifting off the bed as his body tries to process the intrusion, and instinctively - a word you wouldn’t typically associate with domming - you grip onto his waist to hold him still.

Though your palms and fingers are still slick with lube, you manage to keep them steady on his skin by slightly digging your nails in. Jungkook’s mouth parts in a gulped moan, and you feel the pressure in front of your crotch suddenly increase as he stiffens.

“Green?” you check in quickly, so quick to fear the worst.

Jungkook is even quicker to dispel your worries. “Green, fuck, harder, please,” he babbles, shifting as much as he can under you to spread his legs wider in invitation.

You let out a breath of relief but pair it with a snapped thrust to mask it as exertion. Jungkook lets out a cry of pleasure that sounds more like a hiccup, his body rocking on the bed with the force of it.

It’s hard to tell how intense or rough your thrusts are when all you have is his response and the feeling of the leather base pressing against you to go off, so once you start to fuck him in earnest, you’re sure to pay close attention to him.

Not that you’d otherwise be apathetic by any means. Whether his beautiful reactions are a skill learnt from camming or he began camming because of his reactions, you don’t know, but you think watching him like this could never get old.

His hair’s splayed back on the pale grey duvet like a dark halo, red hot streaks highlighting just how long the strands have gotten. His eyes, when he manages to open them, glitter like constellations and plead like puppy eyes. Though he has the bone definition of a god, gravity works against the strong lines and puffs up his cheeks instead, making him look small and sweet.

With lips so pretty and swollen, he pouts and whines and pleads, teeth poking out to nibble at the pinked flesh when the dildo hits his prostate and he muffles a whine.

It takes a surprisingly little amount of time to find a rhythm. Though you’re certainly inexperienced in the art of fucking someone else, it’s really a very natural motion to make your hips rock up against him. Albeit tiring, you find yourself able to pick up the pace until he’s writhing under your hands, his own nails scratching at the meat of his thighs with the restraint it takes not to touch himself.

Taking mercy on the poor thing, you lift one knee up on the bed to give yourself sufficient momentum to drop one of your hands from pinning him down and wrap it instead around his cock, doing your best to time your strokes together.

Jungkook lets out a low keen and goes stiff, back in a violent arch. “Fu-uck,” he cries, and his face would almost look scrunched up in pain if you didn’t know better, the poor camboy overwhelmed by finally being touched there.

“Does that feel good, Gukkie? Am I fucking you good?”

He nods hastily, bottom lip trembling as your thrusts don’t let up for a second. “Suh-so good to Gukkie,” he confirms in a wobbly voice, “please fuck Gukkie harder!”

Quickly tiring, you don’t know if you even can, but you engage your core like it’s a workout and speed up your hips, the insistent rub of the leather over your pussy lips and clit actually beginning to tighten a coil of pleasure low in your belly.

“Yes,” Jungkook wails when he feels the dildo spearing him quicker and quicker. You use your thumb to press at his slit, dripping precum in obscene amounts as he sobs and bucks between your hand and your fake cock.

Once his thighs start to tremble violently and he can’t seem to take in a full breath, you know he’s close. Steeling yourself for the final lap, you ignore the rub of the leather and the pressure of the dildo base against your pelvis, and focus fully on Jungkook and bringing him to a second powerful orgasm.

“Are you close, baby? I wanna see you cum again,” you request, punctuating it with a squeeze of his cock to make him cry out.

Such a polite boy, he composes himself enough to answer. “Baby’s so close,” he whines. “Gukkie can cum?”

You smile fondly even with gritted teeth from exertion, glad his eyes are scrunched shut with pleasure so he can’t see you melt for him. “Gukkie can cum, baby.”

You make good on your promise for him to feel so good he cries when he reaches that high shortly after receiving permission. Tears spilling over his cheeks, his moan comes out strangled but stuttered and airy at the same time, almost like he’s giggling at the feeling that overcomes him. Barely anything comes out of his cock, already milked from the first orgasm, but his body is wracked with sensation and his lips are stretched in a dopey grin, struggling to catch his breath.

If you were a meaner - or fitter - dom perhaps you’d fuck him past the point of oversensitivity, but as it is, you quite happily come to a stop buried deep inside him, lazily stroking his cock as it softens until he hisses at the contact.

Using the duvet to wipe away the last of the lube and cum off your hands, you lean forward and cup this cheeks to brush the tears away and press a kiss to the button of his nose.

He shivers happily, lashes fluttering, and lets out a hum. “Thank you for taking care of Gukkie,” he whispers, before wincing slightly and correcting- “taking care of me. Sorry, I tend to do that when I’m-”

“You don’t have to explain,” you reply easily, kissing each of his cheeks in turn, tasting the salt of his tears as he giggles again at the tickling feeling. “Did you enjoy it, baby?”

Jungkook lets out a breathless chuckle, chest still heaving. “Fuck, like you wouldn’t believe,” he jibes, throwing a hand over his eyes and heated cheeks when you pull away. “But really; thank you.”

You slip the dildo out of him carefully, hearing him make a low noise in his throat as his hole flutters, empty. Rubbing his thigh comfortingly with one hand - if you knew one thing from being on the show, it was that you needed to shower Jungkook in aftercare now - you unfasten the strap-on carefully with your other. “You don’t have to thank me. I had fun too.”

The crook of his elbow lifts just slightly to expose the glint of his eyes, disbelieving. “You did?”

You beam warmly. “Definitely. You’re so fun to play with, Gukkie,” you praise, “plus, I feel like getting a new perspective has been really enlightening, you know?”

“Ah,” he muses, “entertaining and educational. I’m glad my ass served you well.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of your throat; the quip a clear sign that Jungkook is returning from that hazy, contented plane of subspace you’ve grown used to. “Better put that on your CV.”

Jungkook sits up, affronted. Two fat drops of cum run down his stomach, quickly drying out once they spread over his skin. “My ass has been listed on my CV as a skill for years, Y/n, I’m not an amateur.”

“Oh, a professional ass man,” you tease, sighing at the release of pressure once the strap-on harness falls off your hips and to the ground, leaving your lower half bare. “Is that why you got on the show, huh?”

The camboy pouts. “I got on for many reasons,” he insists, “I’m very qualified, you know.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you return immediately, and pause. “Fuck. We were meant to be bantering but I’ve just been complimenting you, haven’t I?”

He nods like it was intentional. “Yet another one of my skills.”

“You’re impossible,” you sigh, but even when he convinces you to join him in the shower, the conversation between you flows without a hitch, and your fondness for the boy only grows.

--

In retrospect, you probably could’ve worked out Namjoon’s prompt based on how he treats you that dinner.

Subtlety isn’t his strong suit, but you’re so hungry from earlier that you barely notice the signs. It’s not uncommon for the guys to pile food on your plate, but Namjoon’s repeated insistence of feeding you directly perhaps should’ve been the first flag.

The way he fills your glass of water for you, ruffles your hair, continuously calls you little… Yeah, you blame Yoongi’s delicious fish cutlet and rice meal for not paying enough attention.

Luckily for you - or perhaps for him - an opening appears when you’re cleaning up the table with Taehyung and accidentally fumble a small dish of dipping sauce all over your hands and front.

Immediately, Namjoon as at your side, taking the ceramics out of your hand and tsking gently. “Oh, love, that’s no good,” he coos in a low timbre, “you’ve gotten yourself all dirty.”

You could just offer to go rinse your hands off in the sink and change shirts, but you’re wired up from fucking Jungkook without your own release - the camboy was so chipper at dinner that everyone had surely cottoned on - and so a better idea comes to mind. “It’s running down my sleeve,” you offer with a faux pout, “I’ll probably need a shower to get it all off. Care to join me?”

Namjoon’s brows lift as he surreptitiously ensures no one else is in earshot. With a hand on the small of your back, he leans in and presses his lips against your ear. “How about Daddy gives you a bath, baby girl?”

You suck in a breath, nerves alighting. Oh. You can work with this. Straightening up, you latch onto his shirt sleeve near the cuff and soften your eyes. “Only if you take one with me,” you bargain, “I’m only little, Daddy.”

He pulls back quickly, and were it not for the hot flares of lust in his eyes, it would almost seem like he’d been shocked. “Go to your bedroom then, love,” he instructs, “and no running on the stairs.”

Of course you aren’t really an impulsive child but, as it is, his command  is actually difficult to follow. The urge to clamber up them as fast as you can, knowing you’re finally going to get fucked good, is hard to suppress.

You manage, however, and soon enough Namjoon’s in the bathroom with you, filling the tub. As you wait, toes wiggling against the cool tile in excitement, he unbuttons his cuff and rolls up the sleeve.

“Okay, clothes off, kitten,” he instructs, hunkering over the edge of the tub to dip a hand in up to the forearm, checking the temperature and stirring up the water, “it’s just about ready.”

You obey, tossing your clothes in a growing pile in the corner. Though it’s no bubble bath, he has drizzled some body wash in to give it a comforting scent, floral and sleepy like ylang ylang. When he pulls his arm out, there’s a ring of suds, and spots of water have already gotten onto his shirt. “You’ve gotta hop in too, Daddy,” you point out, smirking when Namjoon visibly falters at the title.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he confirms, shucking off his shirt and pants, “get in first, kitten, it’s all ready.”

The water is divine, a blooming heat that seeps down to your bones, warming you to the core. You immediately see your skin start to pinken, but the water isn’t unbearably hot, and it’s a pleasant flush.

The heat below contrasts with the cool air on your upper back and shoulders, causing you to shiver, but before you can complain you feel the water level rise, Namjoon’s arms wrapping around you from behind.

As you let him lean you back against his chest, you feel his hardness, but neither of you feel the need to comment on it. This is a porn show, and you’re going to fuck soon, sure, but for now there’s nothing better than a hot bath.

“Give me your hand, let’s clean this sticky sauce up, huh?” It isn’t until Namjoon begins to soap up a loofah and delicately scrub away at the black trails of dipping sauce that have run down your arms that you realise just how fantastic this prompt is. If you played your cards right, Namjoon would take care of you and pamper you all evening, fuck you silly, and then presumably put you to bed like a good Daddy. Holding your hands out obediently, you’re quite content to oblige.

“Sit up, kitten,” the academic commands softly with a press to your shoulder. Once the skin of your arms is unmarred again, Namjoon dips the loofah in the chest-level water, pulls it out dripping suds and water, and laves it over your back, making you sigh at the warmth. “Feels nice, hm?”

Your lips stretch in a lazy smile as you recall asking that very question yourself just earlier today. As much as you had fun domming Jungkook, and wouldn’t be averse to switching things up - quite literally - again, there’s no denying that your soul really sings when you’re the one being taken care of, played with, and pleasured. “Really nice, Daddy.”

The loofah gets dipped again, this time sliding over your chest and stomach. Letting your eyes slip shut at the relaxing treatment, Namjoon’s low timbre washes over you just like the aromatic suds of body wash. “I’m glad,” he coos, “I like taking care of you. You’re too little to do it all yourself, aren’t you? Need Daddy’s help?”

“Too little,” you parrot sleepily, “need Daddy.” With every word, with every touch of his large hands on you, you truly begin to feel little. Curling your toes against the base of the tub, you make a low noise in your throat and lean back against his chest again, head lolling back over his shoulder. “Will you give me a kiss, Daddy?”

He smiles at your entreating plea and wide eyes, eyes like crescent moons as he dips his head and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “All better now?” he checks as he sits the sopping loofah on the side of the bath.

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I’m not all clean yet, Daddy.”

“You aren’t?” he asks with mock surprise, dimple deepening and brows lifting. “Well, that’s no good, is my kitten still dirty somewhere?”

With a single decisive nod, you grab his hand and lead it down until the tips of his fingers brush your folds. “Daddy didn’t clean here, ‘s still dirty.”

You let out a blissful sigh when he cups you, middle finger curling up to barely dip inside you. Namjoon grins. “In here?” Rather than wait for your answer, he smoothly pushes it deeper, massaging at your inner walls. “Alright, kitten, just close your eyes and let Daddy finish cleaning you up.”

A smile graces your lips as your eyes flutter shut again, head comfy in the crook of his neck and shoulder. You could get used to this.

He doesn’t tease you, but nor does he fingerfuck you with intensity or vigor. It’s methodical and diligent, like he really is cleaning you out. One finger quickly becomes two, and his other arm winds around your waist on the other side to roll your sensitive clit, making you moan softly.

Raring to go from unfulfilled pleasure that morning, your nerves go into overdrive, a building wave growing quickly in your belly. When Namjoon adds a third finger, crooking them inside you thoroughly to stroke your g-spot, it takes less than a minute for you to fall apart, thighs clenching tight around his hands.

He works you through it, only stopping when you whimper from oversensitivity, but that doesn’t stop you from whimpering unhappily again when he pulls his fingers out and you’re left empty.

“You’re all clean now, kitten,” Namjoon states, running his palms over your inner thighs to relax them. “Time to get out.”

You sit up suddenly with a pout. “But Daddy!”

Narrowing his brows, you don’t miss the slight twitch of Namjoon’s lips at your sudden outburst. “No buts,” he reproaches, “I don’t want you pruning up.”

You huff, scowling when he deftly tugs out the plug and the water level steadily sinks. “You haven’t even fucked me yet, Da-mmf!”

Namjoon sends you a cutting glare, his strong hand cupped over your mouth. “I should wash your mouth out with soap for using that language, little one,” he warns, “now out of the bath.”

You whine behind his hand, but once he drops it you obey and scramble out of the quickly-draining tub. Your body feels heavier without the buoyancy of water, and you’re dripping onto the bathmat like a drowned rat, but Namjoon pays it no mind, getting out himself with powerful thighs and a heavy cock dangling between them, passing you a towel wordlessly.

You dry yourself off, pout never leaving your face. He’s really just gonna stay hard like that and not fuck you? “Daddy…”

“One more protest and I’m taking you over my knee,” Namjoon says with a sharp tone. “I thought my kitten was better behaved than this.”

You open and close your mouth, unsure how you can get what you want without using vulgar words. Then again, perhaps making him punish you would rile him up enough to fuck you, and you certainly weren’t against some spanking. Sucking a breath in to establish some resolve, you stomp your foot on the bathmat. “You’re so mean, Daddy!”

Namjoon gapes at you, the way you’re bundled in a towel from your chin to your knees, scowling at him. “You want it, don’t you?” he mutters quietly, receiving a small nod in return. Relaxing for a moment, he slips easily back into that position of authority. “That’s it,” he spits, taking you firmly by the wrist and leading you - still naked himself - into your bedroom, “I gave you plenty of warnings but you still won’t listen.”

You squeak as he rips the towel from you and tugs you onto his lap on the edge of the bed. Adjusting you so that your crotch is right above his aching erection, his legs are so long that your toes barely brush on the carpet, all your balance resting on him. This had been the roughest he’d ever been with you, or at least the most domineering, and your mind whirls with how much he’s coming into his element with this prompt.

He gives you no warning before he’s laying his hands on your ass, small pats to warm up the skin before a sudden, stinging strike laces your nerves. You cry out, wriggling in his grip, but he uses one broad hand to link your wrists together in the small of your back, your face pressed onto the mattress as you’re held up fully by him.

He’s carefully merciless, spanking you hard enough that it burns, tears pricking your eyes and lip swollen from when you bite it, but whenever your cries of pain and pleasure turn too much to genuine discomfort, you notice he gives you an extra second of reprieve and swaps out to lighter hits.

“Apologise to Daddy,” he commands gruffly as you sob beneath him, swatting you without pause.

You sniff and swallow before you can compose yourself enough to reply in a wobbly cry, knees buckling and trembling. “Suh-sorry, Daddy, I’m so sorry, I learnt my lesson, ple-ease!”

You could cry when you feel his hand land on you one last time, soft and soothing the stinging flesh. Namjoon shifts, and then you feel light kisses being pressed all the way from your reddened ass up your spine, making you shiver. “Thank you, kitten,” he murmurs in your ear, and gently sits you up, lying you on the mattress.

You hiss when you feel the fabric scratch at your skin, but it’s cool and soothing if you stay still, so you take deep breaths and feel your heart slowly return to normal, Namjoon running his fingers over your now-dry body.

Blinking up at him with what you hope are sweet puppy-dog eyes, you call his name softly to bring his attention to your face. “Are you really not gonna, you know…?”

He grins fondly at your attempt to evade the word fuck, silver hair flopping over his brow as he leans over you. “You took your punishment so well kitten, I think you deserve a reward, hm? Some special time with Daddy?”

You light up, sucking on your lower lip as you spread your legs to bare yourself shamelessly, hooking one foot around his waist so he’s between them. “Extra special time with Daddy,” you insist in a small voice, lip curling now that you’re finally going to get what you want.

With a light laugh, Namjoon centres himself so that he’s facing you head-on, your legs comfortably resting aside his hips. Stroking himself a few times, he taps his hard length against your already-swollen pussy lips. “Relax for me, kitten,” he guides, and you keen as you feel him begin to push inside you.

You try to stop yourself from clenching around him, but it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and as usual the biggest cock in the house takes getting used to. “So big, Daddy,” you breathe with a groan, brows pinched together at the stretch.

“You can take it, kitten, you’re doing so well for me,” Namjoon promises, holding you steady and open with a hand hooking your knee up high by his chest.

By the time he’s bottomed out, hips flush against your still-stinging ass, you feel so deliciously full that you can’t breathe. You lay back, eyes scrunched, and focus entirely on the feeling of his girth stretching you open.

“Feels good?” Namjoon checks in, and you nod, wriggling your hips against him to indicate he can move. “Hold on tight, then.”

Even though it’s barely been a day since you were last fucked, it feels like so much longer, and having Namjoon fill you up over and over is so satisfying on a deep level, that you don’t bother muffling your moans, letting yourself clutch at his arms and enjoy the ride.

While Namjoon certainly isn’t the most lithe or experienced member, his cock is a force of nature in and of itself, and this time, with the heat of desperation and the excitement of your altered dynamic getting to him, he fucks you without holding back.

If he’s like this on his third time, you think, he’ll be a beast before the show ends, but then the head of his cock strikes right against your g-spot, and the thought shatters as a cry is ripped from your throat.

“Oh! Daddy, yes, right there!”

He obliges you by adjusting his hips so that every stroke rubs against you just right, and your mind melts, colours and sounds and sensation blurring together in one full note of all-encompassing pleasure.

You cum without warning, not expecting it yourself, and Namjoon curses lowly in his throat as you clench around him. The orgasm is powerful enough to leave you shuddering hopelessly on the bed before going fully slack, drained.

Warm, fuzzy tingles settle in your fingers and toes and chest in the aftermath as Namjoon fucks you through it, not taking long himself to spill inside you. He drops your leg to the side and leans in, pressing slightly ticklish kisses to your neck and collarbone, hands on either side of your chest to keep his weight off you.

“So good to me,” he breathes out lowly, nuzzling your chin up to give him a better angle to sweetly kiss you on the lips, languid and unhurried as he slowly comes down from his own high.

This time when he pulls out of you and you’re left empty again, you don’t complain, too thoroughly fucked to do anything but let out a contented sigh. Namjoon cleans you up, apologising when oversensitivity makes you twitch at the slightest contact, and then washes up himself.

Just as you feel your mind lifting out of that mental space of feeling little, sitting up a bit on his bed and trying to work out if you’d be able to make it to your dresser to put on some pyjamas, Namjoon returns and does it for you, helping you slip into a baggy t-shirt that you like to use as a nightie.

“Are you going to stay?” you ask softly as he lowers the hem over your head, arms slotting through the holes.

“Do you want me to?” Namjoon counters with an edge of hesitation, scratching lightly at his opposite arm, still naked.

You nod, patting the bed beside you. “If you don’t mind.”

Namjoon gathers his clothes and slips them on, not really appropriate for sleeping. Once he sees your look of confusion, he tilts his head towards your bedroom door. “I’m just going to duck out for some comfier clothes for sleeping, are you going to be alright for a moment?”

By the time he’s come back, you’ve already quickly brushed your teeth - hobbling to and from your bathroom like a newborn deer - and slipped under the covers, getting comfortable. Namjoon returns in grey striped pyjama pants and a white shirt, but he has something in his hands.

“You might think it’s silly,” he offers by way of explanation, the mattress springs squeaking as he gets on beside you, “but I like reading before bed, and I thought maybe you’d find it calming.”

With a dubious smile, you look at the book in his hands. It has the clean edges of a cared-for book, with the creases in the spine of a well-read one. On the cover, golden embossed stars and swooping font read The Little Prince. “You want me to read it?”

Namjoon returns your smile, warm and dimpled. “I want to read to you.”

The two of you cuddle together without words, one of his arms wrapped around your back as you lean on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Propping the small novel up on his stomach, he peers over your head to read.

“Once when I was six years old,” he begins, “I saw a magnificent picture in a book called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing.” He pauses, tapping you twice on the crown of your head to indicate you should look. “In the book it said…”

As he recites the novel aloud, you feel more than hear his voice, a low rumble in your ear like a rushing river or a slow-moving thunderstorm. It’s soothing, lulling you into sleep. His voice wraps around every word like a hug, enunciating each syllable with such care and colour and love, and always pausing when there were photos, even when your eyes slip shut and you begin to drift off.

Slowly, everything fades away. All sound is reduced to that regular heartbeat and warm rumble; all sensations are narrowed down to just the heat of his skin where it meets yours, his fingers lazily swirling patterns on your scalp. All thoughts simplify, the last six words in your brain, I could get used to this, before they wink out to nothing at all, and you sleep.