#I apologize for any mistakes in my spelling or grammar since I did the writing for this post freestyle this time.

[kiruamon]

Don't wake me up - AU Introduction

Cooking up another au idea. So first take these sketches and my info dump will follow further below. Also this feels like one of my more darker aus when I look at the amount of angst involved.

Sun

Moon

Y/N

Soooo... I was thinking of an au with dreams as a theme. Sun and Moon being an entity or guardian of dreams. While Sun stands for the good dreams Moon is in care of nightmares.

And into this setting I decided to throw a Y/N who has only very recently gone blind. They had always loved to create art. So to suddenly being unable to see was shattering their whole world. What's making it worse is that they always had been very independent and pride of what they achieved soley on their own. The thought to be dependent of others was something they never had liked.

But now even in their own home they don't feel any longer in control or autonomous. It's a struggle to navigate around. Bumping into furniture. Memorizing the distance from the bed to the door. Not knocking anything from the desk by accident or crawling under it if it does happen and feeling around for their keys without being able to use their vision to find them. It's frustrating and makes them feel like a stranger in their own place that should usually feel safe and familiar. But now it's all: Where did I put my phone? Was the grater in the drawer under the silverware or left from it? Did I grabbed a spoon or a fork? Which of my sweaters am I holding right now? Hopefully not the ugly christmas sweater I got four years ago? Does the shirt even match the rest or are the colors clashing with each other? Everything feels slowed down and like a big pain since things are still so fresh. Even worse that they have to let a stranger into their life to help them out that is supposed to teach them how to slowly cope with their new situation. It doesn't matter much to Y/N that said caretaker isn't human. They want their vision back so badly. And if that's not possible just to be left alone. Feeling overly emotional over the smallest things and then quickly burnt out. Every little thing is just too much. Being so stressed out and all... their only safe place for them is their dreams. It's where they feel the most normality and comfort. To sleep and to dream means for them to be free. To enjoy the colors and shapes of their dream environmental without any restricts that hold them back.

And that's where they meet Sun during one of their dreams. Not thinking too much of the strange encounter at the start. After all, it's just a dream. There could be much weirder things as a tall animatronic that claims himself to be a dream guardian. It's just odd how often they start to met since their first encounter. But Sun's nice. A very friendly and jolly fellow with an optimistic personallity that's kind of delightful. And Y/N finds himself quickly warming up to their new dream friend. Strolling through the dream realm with Sun and having some silly fun adventures without Y/N needing to worry that they could run into something by accident like in reality. But with time passing by Sun is starting to ask questions about Y/N. Questions that feel like hitting to close to home to them. That they don't want to answer. That they do not want to think about. After all they are hiding into their dreams to escape reality. Not to face their problems. Sun means well, but when he starts prying with his questions Y/N gets defensive and at some point snaps at him. And with the negative emotions flowing over their dream starts to shift. Bringing up more of their hidden fears and tinting it to become more of a nightmare.

Y/N finding themself suddenly alone in an eery nightmarish place. Full of dulled and muddled colors. Their surroundings looking close to a multi layer paper cutout full of symbols that represent their fears and worries which they had tried to desperately deny. The place gives them the shivers. Their shouting out for Sun. But he doesn't seem to be anywhere anymore. So they start running. Searching for him just to fall into a pitch-black pit that feels like it grows deeper and deeper with every second they are into it. Heart rate is going through the roof and panic is spiking up. That's when someone pulls them out. But before they can have a look at them the person they wake up from their nightmare. Next time when Y/N is back to sleep Sun is immediately there and telling them how worried he had been about them. Taking them in their arms and apologizing over and over for upsetting them. At the question where he had disappeared to last time he tells Y/N that he had been looking for them as soon as the dream had been shifting. Aside from that he seems a bit reluctant to tell them more about it. But from that day on Y/N finds themself a bit more often faced with nightmares and feeling as if someone was watching them during those times. Which turns out to be true as he spots a hooded figure at the edge of his vision a few times before finally being able to confront them. Feeling already unsettled and in fight or flight mode Y/N settles for the first option when catching Moon sneaking around them once more. Unbeknownst to them that Moon and Sun are practically one and the same entity. Just that Moon is in charge of their body in the realm of nightmares and Sun in the realm of good dreams.

Moon is more annoyed with Y/N's defensive and stubborn attitude as Sun is. But it might also not help that Moon himself is very tight-lipped instead of trying to explain things. So the two aren't off with the best start. And Sun has some explaining to do when he and Y/N meet the next time. Despite this rough start with Moon Y/N will find out that the more grumpy dream guardian is staying close to them whenever they find themself back in a nightmare instead of hiding like before. Giving them a bit closure with their presence and words and helping them to guide them slowly out of their nightmares back into more peaceful dreams where Sun will take over again.

As things progress there comes a time where Y/N will hardly want to get out of bed anymore. Just wanting to sleep. To go back into this world of dreams where they feel free instead of struggling all day without knowing what for. They are at a rough place. And they find themself wishing to stay longer and longer in their dreams with Sun and Moon. The world where they feel whole.

Of course Sun and Moon notice what is going on. The dreams after all depict the things that are going subconsciously and consciously on in Y/N's mind. It's hard for them if the two bring up their blindness. Or that they have to wake up instead of keep dreamig on forever. To start to live their life again. It's a messy time for them all and a lot of ups and downs. But with those confrontations and growing closer to the two guardians Y/N finds themself also becoming more vulnerable and slowly opening up to them. Admitting that they are scared. That they feel useless and like having lost so many things. Not knowing what to do. It takes a lot of time, patience and comfort from Sun and Moon as well as some firm words to slowly convince Y/N to start working on their fears in the real world. Y/N's dreams during this time are very unstable and easily shifting often between good and nightmarish during the course of one night. But they are slowly trying to work things out.

It takes a lot of them to ask the animatronic that had been assigned to take care of them for help. Not only because Y/N feels pretty shitty for having lashed out verbally in the past for a bunch of minor little things that had got them riled up during this time, but also because it's still hard for them to rely on someone this much. But all their conversations with Sun and Moon have teached them that's okay to ask for help. And so they do. Slowly finding their way back into life. Learning how to cope with their blindness. What tools to use to navigate better through their daily life. Learning that's okay to be vulnerable. It's a little surprise to Y/N when they find out that the name of their caretaker is Eclipse. A very patience and kindhearted animatronic. The round head plate with the triangular rays feels all so familiar under their fingers when he allows them to run their hands over them. Eclipse is the one helping Y/N out in their daily life. Cooking together and giving them all kinds of tips and tricks. Guiding them with his directions and gentle voice. He even brings up things like tactile art, sculpting and other things Y/N hadn't thought of before since they had believed they would have to give up on art completely. But slowly there is new hope found. And with each little achievement Y/N will find themself more independent over time. Finding joy in creation again and even some new things. While they always had liked music they also find a new interest in audiobooks. Even though they enjoy it even more when Eclipse will read for them while they sit together on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate in their hands and leant against him. Since Y/N grows more and more fond towards Eclipse to a point where they even found their more cheerful side back. It comes as a shock when Eclipse is telling them someday that he will soon quit his job as their caretaker. Since he feels that Y/N has grown independent enough again for not needing a full-time caretaker anymore. It leaves a bitter taste for Y/N as they had started to grow so used to having the other around and now feeling as if losing Eclipse again. Questioning the fact if they even had been friends or if they had been just another job for him. But at the same moment they start having those insecure thoughts they feel guilty about them. After all Eclipse had done so, so much for them and they don't want to taint their last time with him with acting like an upset or ungrateful child. So Y/N decides to just tell Eclipse how thankful they feel for everything he has done for them and that they wish him the best. Just for Eclipse to chuckle softly and telling them that he doesn't intend to make this their last meeting. He swiftly explains to Y/N that he only wants to quit the job in order to be able to be their friend without it feeling like he is paid to be nice to them.

Aaaalso some side notes to Sun and Moon. While they are like a dream entity or like I call them the guardians of dream it's not like they can do whatever they want in the dream realm. Besides their transformation they can not just wave their hand and change what happens in a dream. Their influence on the dreams is more subtle and depending if they are able to calm down the dreamer. So it's more like their interactions and words with the dreamer will affect the dreamers thoughts and subconcious and that will influence the dream. So if Sun for an example senses Y/N getting upset he will most of the time swiftly change topics and trying to use distraction as a method to keep the dream nice and peaceful. Asking about things Y/N likes and that feel safe to adress. Since Moon is just there when the dreamer is already in a nightmare his method is more about showing support. Staying close to them as some form of protection. He will take Y/N's hand or later on take them in his arms. Brushing over his back and keep talking with them in a calm voice. Letting them vent about their fears while giving some guidance if needed.

So it's all more about their skills in interacting and subtle manipulation via words (in a more healthy way) as having some magical superpowers.

Ooookay, that was a lot. And I hope it's not too confusing to follow my line of thoughts. There will be a second post entry that focuses more on some sketches that I did for this au and that will show some of the things mentioned here.

[matryosika]

Recording Sessions

Pairing — 3racha and Reader

Wordcount — 3,485 words

Genre — Smut

Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.

Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍

“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”

The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth. 

But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.

“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”

“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.

“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.

“Any ideas on how we can improve this?” 

“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.

“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.

“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.

There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.

Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway. 

“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?” 

The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.

“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”. 

“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”. 

Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished. 

“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.

“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”

You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind. 

“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.

It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”

“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.

“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.

“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.

Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.

“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.

“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”

Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.

“Yeah, okay”. 

Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?

He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.

“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”. 

“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung. 

“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”. 

“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.

“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”. 

The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to. 

“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.

“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder. 

“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.

“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back. 

You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards. 

You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.

“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees. 

Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.

“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.

“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”. 

“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.

“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you. 

“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”. 

“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”

You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.

In the meantime, Chan just watches. 

You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.

“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”. 

You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.

The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.

“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit. 

“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.

It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.

Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.

 So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.

“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.

“Fuck, Changbin���. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.

“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”

“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations. 

“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”

You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.

It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.

When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it. 

And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.

“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.

He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.

Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.

“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.

“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.

“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it. 

“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?” 

“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.

“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”. 

Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs. 

“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”. 

You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.

“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.

You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you. 

“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”

“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.

“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.

And a well deserved one.

“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.

“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time. 

“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up. 

It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable. 

The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there. 

“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”

Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you. 

“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?” 

You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.

“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast. 

“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile. 

“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.

You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”. 

[sirjaketkiszka]

Josh Kiszka One Shot: Just Friends

You share an embarrassing secret with Josh. Turns out, he shares the same one.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,253

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, cursing, mutual loss of virginity, slight dirty talking, kissing, dry humping/grinding, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, oral m!receiving, swallowing, and, of course, mediocre writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The slight chill in the early summer air causes goosebumps to pepper your bare arms and legs, making your hands subconsciously rub the textured skin. You and Josh retreated to the backyard when Jake’s end-of-the-school-year party got too overwhelming, but a majority of the company had vanished by now. The previous music coming from the house is no longer playing, and the cars that littered the streets have all pulled away.

Golden and blush pink hues paint the skies like rough brush strokes, and minuscule twinkles of surfacing stars shine through the fading clouds. You could stare at the sun-setting sky for hours, but the brisk wind sends a chill up your spine and you grow noticeably uncomfortable.

“Want my jacket?” Josh asks, his head turned toward you as yours cranes upward to the scene above you. His soft voice pulls you to look at him, and you can tell by the way the tip of his nose sports a gentle shade of pink that he’s also cold.

“I’m okay,” You dismiss his question, hoping he’ll leave it alone.

“Please, just take it,” He insists, his hands finding the bottom hem of his oversized hoodie and lifting it above his head, “You know I run hot anyway.” He winks, handing you the bundle of warm fabric. You know his statement is a lie to get you to accept the jacket, but you also know he won’t let the topic go until he gets his way.

“Thank you,” Mumbling under your breath, you slip your arms through the sleeves and allow the fabric to fall over your shoulders and cover your torso. Immediately, your senses are flooded with his rich and comforting scent. Notes of cinnamon, firewood smoke, and the faint smell of weed intertwine themselves in the carefully woven wool of the Baja hoodie.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and the light breeze creates a soft woosh sound; a product of the branches on bordering trees brushing up against each other. The bonfire before you dissipates into a low amber glow, the quiet crackles indicating its last leg. You know it’s time to head back, but just by glancing over to the house, you can tell that Jake is cleaning up and he’ll ask for help the moment you two walk inside.

“So,” Josh’s voice turns your head back to him, “Did you enjoy your first year of college?”

“Um,” You hesitate, giving the question some thought, “Yeah, I did.” Though the tone of your voice says otherwise, and Josh, of course, notices. As a form of comfort, you bring your thumbnail to your parted lips, anxiously nibbling on it while you zone out.

“That wasn’t convincing at all,” Josh chuckles while leaning over and gently wrapping his long fingers around your wrist, stopping you from chewing your nail off. This time, you really look at him; concern is reflected in his furrowed brows, his eyes searching your face for any indication of the truth, “What’s wrong?”

One thing is for certain, Josh always knows when you are upset. It sometimes feels like he knows you better than you know yourself, which can get a little annoying, especially when you prefer to process certain things privately. Although, with being friends since elementary school, his accurate reading of your emotions is a given.

“Well, I guess I expected more,” You shrug, avoiding the real reason.

“Like what?” He pushes, and your pulse begins to climb under his interrogating stare as he’s nearly falling out of his seat, quite literally on the edge of it. If you tell him you don’t want to talk about it, he will let it go, but another part of you wants to tell him.

“I just– Ugh,” You groan, the words proving hard to form because of how embarrassed you feel by them, “I expected more male attention.” Your words are rushed, your eyes diverting from his softening gaze. God, you hate when he pities you.

“Oh,” His lack of response surprises you, and you can’t help but notice the subtle disappointment laced in his features, “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” A frustrated huff exhales from you, and you slump in the uncomfortable lawn chair, “A relationship maybe– my first relationship.”

“Well, you know, the right person will–”

“And my first time,” You blurt out. Both yours and Josh’s eyes widen at your admission and, of course, you panic and continue, “I know we don’t talk about our sex lives with each other, but I thought maybe I would’ve lost it by now.” You feel so juvenile avoiding the word virginity, but you can’t help it, and you’re afraid of any potential nearby listeners.

“It’s perfectly normal to wait,” He soothes, and you only now realize that his hand is still wrapped around your limp wrist, absently rubbing small circles on your smooth skin with his thumb.

“I know, but… I don’t want to,” You sigh, feeling as though a weight’s been lifted off of you, and now you can openly express your disappointment, “I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but I am, and part of me does want to wait for the ‘right’ person, but another wants to just get it over with, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” He sits back in his chair, releasing your wrist and resting his hands on the chair’s armrests, “If it makes you feel better, I haven’t done it either.”

“Wait, really?” You sit up a little, and he smirks at your enthusiasm. When you think about it, Josh hasn’t ever dated anyone long enough to get to that point, so it should make sense, yet you still assumed he lost it somewhere along the way. You’re not entirely sure why you’re so relieved to hear that he’s still a virgin, like you, but you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t sound so excited,” He laughs, his head thrown back and perfect teeth flashing.

“I’m not!” You giggle, “Just surprised, that’s all.”

“I guess I’m just waiting for the right person,” He shrugs, resting his head on the back of his chair and staring up at the darkening sky. The previously colorful shades morph into a jet-black sky, and the stars freckle the dark backdrop. The temperature will only lower from this point on, and when you take another glance at the house, there’s no more movement, just the soft glow of the television from the living room. “Hey, what if–” Josh breaks the brief moment of silence, and you’re eager to hear his thoughts, “Never mind.”

“What if what?” You urge, fully sitting up in your seat.

“It’s nothing,” He shakes his head, brushing you off.

“Oh c’mon, Josh,” You nearly whine, curiosity getting the best of you. You have an inkling of what he might say, but then again, the idea is ridiculous. Absurd, even. He’d never suggest a thing like that.

“I was going to say we could… you know�� together,” Oh, he would suggest it, apparently. He glances over at you, then away, his voice hardly a whisper by the end of his sentence, and you’re left speechless, “It’s stupid, I know. I thought maybe because we’re best friends that it wouldn’t be so weird, but I can see now that it is weird, so let’s ignore–”

“Okay.” You cut him off, his lips sealing and eyes holding yours.

“Okay… let’s ignore it?” He asks.

“No, okay as in ‘let’s do it’,” You explain, and his jaw nearly drops, “If you’re okay with it, and I’m okay with it, what’s the harm?”

“I–” He pauses, “That’s true. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” You respond confidently, “Are you sure? We totally don’t have to.”

“No, no, I want to,” He rushes out, and you have to fight back the smile that threatens to pull at your lips.

“So,” You drag out the word, feeling a little awkward, “When should we…?”

“Oh! Um,” He looks around and takes note of the empty house, all prior company is suddenly gone and the street is empty, “We could do it now?”

“Like now, now?”

“Unless you don’t want to!”

“No, let’s go,” You say, nodding your head toward the house and getting up. His gaze follows you, his eyes locked on yours as he gets up from his chair. The fire has dwindled into nothing but smoking ashes, and the only light that guides your way is the dimly lit back porch light. Your footsteps create quiet thuds into the overgrown grass, and you try to be courteous while climbing up the steps to the sliding door. Josh follows closely behind you, letting you walk in first, and you both remove your shoes by the door.

The kitchen is surprisingly clean– you almost can’t tell that there had been a party just over an hour ago. The rest of the house is eerily quiet, but the muffled sound of the living room TV carries into the kitchen, and you both have to walk through the room to get to the stairs. When you peer into the living room, Jake is sprawled out on the couch, clicking through channels and sipping on his last drink of the night.

“Hey, guys, I was wondering when you’d come inside,” He greets you and his twin, although he doesn’t look away from the TV.

“Hey, Jake,” Josh steps in front of you, addressing his twin, “We’re going to go watch a movie in my room, let us know if it gets too loud.”

On any other day, that would be a normal thing for the two of you, but tonight, it feels very different. It isn’t out of the ordinary for you to stay late and watch movies with Josh, but it is out of the ordinary to lie about what you were actually going to do, and somehow, you feel like Jake knows. He couldn't possibly know, but your conscience says otherwise.

“No worries,” Jake mutters into his cup, taking a sip and finally settling on a channel to his liking.

Josh motions for you to follow him, walking past the TV and up the stairs. Your pulse pounds in your ears the closer you get to Josh’s room, and you swallow down the anxious lump in your throat when he opens the door for you, allowing you to walk in first and lock the door behind you. You’ve been in his room plenty of times, but again, this is under different circumstances.

He rushes past you and slips a random DVD into his small TV, turning the volume up considerably loud. When he turns to face you, a nervous smile is on his lips, and you’re sure your expression is mirroring his. Was this a good idea? Only one way to find out.

Taking a seat on the bottom edge of his twin-sized bed, you pat the empty spot next to you, urging him to sit down. He moves quickly, sitting beside you and turning to look at you. His eyes frantically search your features, and yours do the same, taking in his appearance; his face is slightly flushed, and his shoulders show how deeply he’s breathing, slowly rising and slowly falling.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice coming out in barely a whisper.

“Yes,” The single word comes out in a quick huff, and only now do you realize how you’ve been holding your breath, anticipation prickling up your spine. Josh’s eyes zero in on your lips, his upper body leaning toward you, gravitating your own to him. Through parted lips, quick breaths exit the both of you, brushing against each other when you get closer, and eventually collide.

With eyes fluttering close, his lips are plush and perfectly molded against yours. The feeling is foreign, but a feeling you wholeheartedly welcome. Only a fleeting moment passes before your lips move fluidly with his, causing heat to rise to your neck and settle in your scarlet cheeks. Desperate for his touch, your hand reaches for his, guiding him underneath his sweatshirt that you’re still wearing, and allowing his fingers to glide along your bare waist. Your stomach clenches and a small gasp is pulled from you when his hand slides up your ribs and settles just below the cup of your bra, gripping the heated flesh slightly.

Pulling away, your eyes peel open to hold his gaze; his pupils are blown, his irises nearly pitch black, and his plump lips are a shiny maroon. Soft pants leave the both of you, eyes wide and yearning for more.

“Are we really doing this?” He asks, breathless, his brows scrunching in disbelief.

“I don’t want to stop,” You admit, your hand on his caressing reassuringly.

“Neither do I,” He says with a smile, flashing the gap between his teeth. You always love it when it shows through his toothy grin, a result of his goofy laugh or pure excitement. From now on, you will think of this moment, and that thought scares you, but yet, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Good,” You smirk, pulling away from him while backing up fully onto his bed, only stopping when your head hovers above his pillows. He remains at the end of the bed with his hand that was once on your skin subconsciously reaching out to you. “Come here,” You instruct him.

He turns over to crawl up the bed, his eyes bouncing from yours to your opening legs when he gets closer. Inching over your body, his hips lay snug against yours, and you hold back the surprised moan that settles in your throat when you feel his growing bulge against your core. He wastes no time placing his lips on yours again, letting his arms hold himself up on either side of your head, caging you in.

Your legs lazily tangle with his, your hands coming up to grip his clothed waist. This kiss is unlike the last; it’s fervent, hungry, and urgent. His breathing is heavy through his nose, and your small whimpers travel into his haste kisses while he absently grinds into you. Heat pools in your core when his bulge massages your aching clit, causing whimpers to mix with needy moans, and rough grunts to catch in the back of Josh’s throat, muffled by the kiss.

Moving his hips faster, your mouth opens to let out a moan, but his tongue swipes against yours, silencing you. The simultaneous sensation of him grinding into you and his tongue clashing with yours dulls your senses, drowning out the blaring sound of the movie playing, making you dizzy. If you found his scent comforting, his taste is all the same; smokey, cinnamon, and just Josh.

Pressing a final peck to your partially open lips, he travels down your chin to your jawline, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jawbone. Breathless moans consistently brush past your parted lips as he moves to your neck, your head tilting to allow him better access. Traveling up from his waist, one of your hands rests on the back of his neck, intertwining his braided rat tail between your fingers. He gently sucks on the sensitive skin below your ear, making sure to pull away before leaving a mark of any sort.

“Can I try something?” His words are broken up between gentle pecks, slightly muffled by the crook of your neck. When he pulls away, you nod eagerly, watching him sit back on the heels of his feet and gripping the bottom of your hoodie. Sitting up slightly, you let him lift the garment off of you, leaving you in just your tank top and shorts. A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, his eyes shamelessly admiring your flushed state, heavily breathing with legs spread open for him. “May I?” He asks, sliding his hands up your bare thighs, inching up the rough fabric of your denim jeans, and stopping just where the button and zipper are.

Nodding again, he unbuttons your shorts and slowly unzips them, his fingers hooking into the waistband and tugging gently. You lift your hips, allowing him to slide the fabric over your ass and hips, and down your legs. He tosses the shorts somewhere behind him, his focus solely on your clothed cunt. His jaw is slack, his tongue swiping along his lower lip as fingers trace the hem of your underwear.

You silently thank your past self for choosing such cute underwear; a simple black cotton pair with a lace waistband. If only you knew how handy it would become. His eyes flick up to yours, “Can I take them off?” His voice oozes with tenderness, though there’s a slight tremble, telling you that he’s just as nervous as you are. The thought oddly soothes you, reminding you that this is his first time too.

“Please,” You beg, slowly nodding and swallowing back the nerves that come with being completely exposed to him. You figure the anxiousness would be worse had you agreed to do this with someone you don’t know as well as Josh, and the closer you get to the real thing, the more eager you are. He removes your underwear at a tantalizing pace, the stretchy fabric sliding over the hills of your ass when you lift your hips, and peeling off your wet slit. If your face could get any hotter, you’re sure your cheeks are dark maroon, and you fight the urge to close your legs when he nearly stops breathing at the sight of you.

“So beautiful,” He mumbles to himself, and barely audible enough for you to hear. Your hands fidget with the sheets on either side of you, and you watch as he leans forward, pressing a tender kiss to your bent knee, and then to the other. He takes his time alternating between legs, leaving gentle kisses along your thighs as he repositions himself to lay on his stomach, his head just inches from where you want him. Feeling his soft breaths cascade on your soaked cunt, you fight the urge to grind your hips upward, desperate for relief of any sort.

Thankfully, he takes the hint, likely noticing your restraint and near lack thereof. His hands press on your inner thighs, prompting you to spread them wider, and he holds you there. Leaning forward, he presses a light kiss on your clit and your hips writhe at the simple gesture. If that can get you worked up, you aren’t prepared for what’s next.

He places another kiss, firmer this time, and a moan carries itself out with the shaky exhale you release. Just when you think you can’t take the teasing any longer, Josh swipes his tongue along your slit, and your back arches at the foreign feeling. If this felt otherworldly, how did actual sex feel? More swipes of his tongue pull incoherent words from you, mumbled between desperate whines and surprised gasps. Low hums vibrate his tongue, and his hips absentmindedly grind into his mattress, his eyes closed and eyebrows synched while he tastes you.

“Oh my, God,” You breathe out, feeling the warmth erupt in your lower abdomen and send waves of pleasure straight to your core, “You’re so good,” Encouraging words elicit him to flick his tongue on your swollen clit, and a deep groan pushes past your lips as you throw your head back in his pillows and a free hand carefully grasps at his curls, “Fuck— Just like that, please, Josh.”

One of his hands holding your thighs apart slides along the plush flesh, and you gasp when his middle finger toys with your entrance, “Is this okay?” He mumbles against your clit.

You nod frantically, “God, yes, please.”

Slowly pushing his middle finger in, he continues his attention on your clit, distracting you from the feeling of your walls stretching around the digit. There’s no pain, but you know he’s just trying to get you adjusted to feeling full. Short pumps and the curl of his finger press against your g-spot, and you whine at the feeling, your back peeling off of the mattress.

Trembling legs, the string of breathless moans, and the uncontrollable writhing of your hips signal a close release. You’re so close to finishing, feeling your walls pulse around him, but you’re afraid that it’ll end once you reach climax.

“Need more,” You mutter while lifting your head and tugging on his hair slightly, making him look up at you, “Need you inside me.”

He pulls his mouth away quickly and removes his finger leisurely, eager much like you are, and returns to his kneeled position between your legs— your hands returning to their resting position on either side of you. Without a word, he lifts his t-shirt over his head and you nearly salivate at his impressive physique. Sure, you’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times, and yet, this is different; his abs clench with every passing breath, his shoulders visibly heaving, and to top it all off, his lips and chin shine in the dimly lit room, a product of you.

Cautious eyes observe him while he unbuttons his khaki shorts, unzipping them and pulling them down just enough to pool around his bent knees. His erection strains in his boxers, begging to be released, and when he pulls the waistband down, you swallow thickly. The tip of his cock leaks precum, and his hand wraps around the shaft, pumping lazily. Your gaze travels up his body, settling on his face, which reflects how eager and nervous he is.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom,” His meek voice admits with a chuckle, “We don’t have to—”

“No! It’s okay,” You rush out, a little too impatiently, but you really wanted this and didn’t want to back out now, “We’ll just be… safe.”

“Okay… Okay, yeah, we’ll be safe,” He nods, understanding what you mean. Leaning forward, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his length, he rests his other hand on the pillow beside your head. A shared shaky breath leaves both of you when his tip glides between your folds, roughly circling your clit and gathering the wetness. Slowly, he positions his tip with your weeping entrance, and the pressure causes you to hold your breath, “Ready?” He asks, making sure to maintain strong eye contact.

“Yes,” You choke out, still afraid to breathe.

“Let me know if it hurts too much,” He comforts, and while you appreciate it, you want— no, need— him now, “We’ll stop, okay?”

“I know,” You swiftly nod while your eyes shoot between his and his erection poking at your cunt, “I’m ready. Are you?” You make sure to ask, realizing how reassuring he’s been this entire time, and afraid that you’ve been lacking the same hospitality.

“Of course,” He smirks, and his hips move forward by an inch, letting his tip be consumed by you. Your chest gets tight, your lungs stalling as you anticipate pain of any sort, “Breathe,” He comforts, inching deeper into you, “Just relax, mama.”

His unusual pet name almost distracts you from the stretching feeling of his cock pushing into you, your walls doing their best to accommodate his size. You breathe deeply, letting out shaky exhales as your wide eyes lock onto his, a sharp gasp pulling into your lungs when he eventually bottoms out. A relieved groan melts from Josh’s tongue; his eyebrows scrunched in pleasure, and his lips agape. The stinging sensation is dull, not overwhelming in the slightest, but you still grip Josh’s waist, waiting for it to hurt.

“You feel so– fuck,” His voice is strained, his hips unable to move while his cock twitches inside of you, wanting more. His eyes nearly roll when you absently squeeze around him, pulling a drawn whine from him, “How can someone feel so… good.” His words send a rush of arousal to your core, coating his erection as he inches his hips back, and carefully pushes back in.

“Holy shit,” Your words are dragged out by a moan, surprised by how natural this feels. You expected blistering pain with little to no pleasure involved, but this felt delicious. As his tip brushes against your textured walls, a mixture of your whimpers and his breathy grunts tangle in the space between you, silencing the TV that plays loudly just feet away from you.

“How does that feel?” He murmurs, his voice lost when he speeds up slightly, the previous resistance no longer present, allowing him to glide in and out of you effortlessly. With his gaining speed, your legs wrap around his waist, creating a new angle that pulls him in deeper.

“So good, Josh,” You cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as the pressure rebuilds itself in your gut, “Please, don’t stop.” He quickens his thrusts, repositioning his arm beside you, resting his upper body weight on his elbow and forearm. His free hand explores your curves; gripping your thighs, your waist, skimming over your clothed breasts, and finally sliding down to your spread cunt.

“Does that feel good?” He sweetly whispers directly in your ear, lazily rubbing circles around your clit. Your hand flies from his waist to his, guiding him to press firmer and rub faster.

“Fuck, yes!” Your words grow increasingly louder the closer your climax gets, and your distracted mind forgets the company that resides in the story just below you.

“God, you feel so good,” Josh’s husky voice and quick breaths brushing against your earlobe add to your pleasure, heightening your peak and tightening the wounding coil, “So warm, so tight.”

“Oh god, Josh,” You whine, your other hand leaving his waist and sliding up his back, your nails pressing crescent moons into the warm skin. “I’m close,” Crying out, your legs tighten around his waist, and your hand grips his wrist, encouraging him to keep going, “Shit!”

The coil in your abdomen snaps, sending a rush of heat through your limbs and core, causing your legs to frantically shake around him and your cunt to rapidly squeeze him as he continues pumping into you. Eyes shooting open to look at the ceiling, your vision is hazy and hearing is muffled, the only sound being let in is the distant string of profanities and cries. Whispered phrases like “That’s right,” “It’s okay,” and “Holy shit.” leave Josh’s lips, which press against the top of your ear.

The final pulses of your orgasm grasp around his length and your moans melt into exasperated breaths, your chest heaving against his. Placing soft kisses along your jawline, he moves further down, peppering along your exposed collarbone and nibbling on the thin skin. His hips gradually slow down, and he practically comes to a halt.

“What- why are you slowing down? Are you okay?” Your words are rushed, and they pull him to look at you, a lazy smile plastered on his plump lips. His face is completely flushed; red splotches cross the bridge of his nose and make a home of his naturally rosy cheeks.

“It’s okay, nothing’s wrong,” He assures, pressing a soft peck to your parted lips, “I just need a minute,” He chuckles as his hips tiredly thrust into you, “I’m so close.” His admission gives you an idea and a favor you’d like to return.

“Wait,” He immediately stops when the word leaves your lips, and his eyes are piercing, afraid he might’ve done something wrong, “Can I– Can I taste you?” Your shy voice comes out in a whisper. His face is stunned, but if it’s possible, his eyes grow darker, clearly enjoying the thought.

“Of course,” He chokes out, clearing his throat. Carefully pulling out, a noise of resistance exits both of you. Glancing at his cock, it’s covered in your release, and your mouth waters at the sight. You switch positions with him, letting him lay on the bed while you sit in between his legs. In the process, he’s taken both his shorts and boxers off, leaving him bare to you.

His eyes are expectant, patiently waiting and watching as you bend forward, lightly grasping his member with your hand and gently placing a kiss on his leaking tip. His hips jut forward, chasing your mouth when you pull away, looking at him with a satisfied smile on your face.

Leaning forward again, your lips part and wrap around his sensitive tip, sucking delicately and pulling a trembling sigh from Josh. The saltiness of his precum and the taste of your climax coat your tastebuds, making your mouth water. Swirling your tongue around him, you plunge deeper, inching his erection into your mouth until his tip pushes against the back of your throat. To prevent yourself from gagging, you hum, making his cock twitch. A sharp gasp pierces his lungs when you pull away and immediately sink back down, your head slowly bobbing on his length.

“Oh, my God,” He mumbles, your eyes shooting to his while you work your way up and down, sucking just enough, “that feels so– fuck.” His head falls back with his eyebrows scrunched, and his hips do their best not to thrust into you, chasing his own release. You move quicker, ignoring the stinging sensation of tears gathering on your waterline, “Keep going, oh god,” You do, sucking harshly, “I’m gonna come.”

His choked words morph into mouth-watering whines, encouraging you to work faster, pulling his orgasm from him. Rushed-out curses leave his sweet lips as his hips sputter and stomach clenches, his cock twitching deep within your mouth. A hand flies to your hair, silently begging for you to keep going while spurts of hot cum coat the back of your tongue. The feeling is overwhelming, and the liquid threatens to leak from the corners of your mouth as you continue your work on him, only pulling away when his erection no longer spasms with every passing of your lips.

When his head finally lifts from the pillows, you swallow eagerly, making sure to hold his amazed stare when you do so. His eyes are shining, cheeks deep red, and his lips stay parted. His eyes are wide as his hand travels from your hair to your cheek, cradling your face and wiping away the drop of cum that escaped on the corner of your mouth with a swipe of his thumb.

“That was—” He breathes out, his chest rapidly rising and falling, an appreciative smile falling on his lips.

“It was,” You shoot back, smiling in return and crawling up his body, surprising him with a firm peck. His hands grip your waist, his chin lifting to deepen the kiss, a pleased hum vibrating your lips.

Knock Knock

The two of you separate at an impressive speed with Josh scrambling to cover you with the blanket located at the end of his bed. Even with the door locked, you feel panic rising in your throat, making you feel sick, “Yeah?” Josh calls out.

“I’m going to bed, can you turn the volume down?” Jake’s muffled voice comes from behind the door, presumably clueless to the state in which you and Josh are in.

“Yes! Sorry!” Josh quickly replies, rushing to the TV and turning the knob, making the volume gradually lower until the room is near silent. When he turns back to you, you both stifle a laugh, and you lift the blanket, motioning for him to join you. “Shouldn’t I get dressed first?”

“Hmmm,” You think about it, lifting a brow and smugly smirking, “Nah.”

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My second Josh one shot, hurray! It’s a little different from what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed! <3

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@musicislove3389

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[booliuu]

What if like Helen with an s/o that was bullies for having like a masculine upbringing or like a male name, kinda like his situation but with the opposite gender

Idrk, it might be too confusing soz

ohh interesting! i hope what i wrote is what your looking for anon :]]

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : HEEEYYY IM BACK FROM THE DEAD! oh my gosh.. how long has it beeen since i last posted lol. literally last month or smth im so sorry guys 😭😭. college and life has been really hectic so im sorry for no posting in such a long time . my inbox is still open , its just going to take a while for answer them . sorry guys :( . It’s a little rushed so sorry about that. I’m so tired from work bro

my inbox is open for asks & requests!! if you like my content don’t forget to like , comment , & reblog. enjoy reading! ❤️

— edit: this is not pre read! had to write in this in a rush so i apologize if there is any grammar or spelling mistakes!😰

Helen( aka bloody painter) with a s/o that experienced the same trauma as he did

🩸. . . in my opinion, i think he’s in a bit of a state of shock and experiencing mix emotions because there is someone in the same “place” as he is. ( ik that’s a bit of a stretch since he doesn’t necessarily feel emotion like we do 😬 but lemme cook-)

🩸. . . what i’m saying is that, he doesn’t feel as lonely as before. lowkey kind of envy’s you a liiittle bit because you have something that he wants. if that makes sense…

🩸. . . since he has a shy aloof nature to him, it will would be awhile for him to start hanging out with you. (even start talking to you to be completely honest with you anon.)

🩸. . . this is off topic but i just want add this here. .

🩸. . . the reason why he is so reserved is because not only his parents didn’t really have the greatest communication style per say …

🩸. . . they sheltered him a lot in his youth. so majority of time he’s only talking to his parents. if he questions about this “rule” they always brush it off with some bs excuses like , “oh i’m just protective” or even teaching him stranger danger.

🩸. . . but in reality, his parents ..mostly his mom 💀 his dad was barely in the picture.. still had the mindset of having a boy instead of a girl, so they all keep him out of society in fear of people will “change” him from the way they think is right. of course their actions has consequences. .

🩸. . . his mom is a delusional mess to be frank. a fucking psycho tbh . if she see him talking to someone she deems “ suspicious” or “ no worthy as a friend” . then she’ll immediately pull him as side and will him tell not so nice things about the friend and quite frankly make him stop talking to them. yeaaa she’s not a great person as you can tell…

🩸. . . anyways! once after all his shyness rolls off. he start to approach you and make really awkward small talk. before getting awkward and running away just watching you from a distance.

🩸. . . slowly but surely he will come out of his bubble and gradually start talking to you. if you sense a bit of a invisible wall or there’s something in the air that you can’t put your mind around.. that’s because he is debating if he deems you trustworthy to be talking to you. ( BLAME HIS MOM-)

🩸. . . he doesn’t talking about his home life at all but if you start talking about what your going through . spilling all of your feelings out of your chest..

🩸. . . his reaction would be at first, he stares at you blankly . debating what he should do at the moment, all he can think about is your just like him in a way. .

🩸. . . his mind is racing. all he think about is how should he comfort you. he has a very hard time understanding human emotions . so best bet he’s not going to talk for a while.

🩸. . . with the state you guys are in, you start to feel embarrassed almost ashamed for telling your story. you mumbled a apologized , before getting up from your spot . suddenly you were tugged back to your seat.

🩸. . . you stare at him in shocked. you known him for a long time and you never see him in a .. how should i put this.. in a vulnerable state before. you’re so used to his cold distant nature that it took you a second to perceive everything.

🩸. . . after a few strained seconds , he opened his mouth just to utter the words to your surprise,“ i understand..” your eyes widened even more, his deep blue eyes looked away gathering his thoughts before continuing. he closed his eyes and mumbled“ your not alone …” . you stare at him in shocked before giving him a hug and slowly he returned the hug as well..

🩸. . . after that, let’s just say you guys friendship has greatly improved. and he’s willing to comfort you the best way he possibly can. he’s not the best at it but he’s trying.

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : not going to lie , i really like this concept. had a bit of fun with it! thx for the ask anon 🫶🏻. working on the rest of the marble hornets headcanons i promised to write just an fyi!!

liuuboo2025♡ ﾟ if you like my content please don’t forget to like , reblog , and comment ^^.

[augustdaddywalker]

The Devil's Obsession. | Chapter 1

⊱ where the devil in disguise, August Walker trapped a little human in his grasp and claimed her as his ultimate prize.

⚠ | possessive behavior, kidnapping, manipulation, smut, virgin reader, breeding kink, rough play, (a bit of facial hair rubbing?) dom!August- he's a devil after all.

Also be aware that this story was written by an amateur who's still learning how to write a proper story (and also slow update). I sincerely apologize for any mistake that i made, no matter if it's the grammar or the spellings, english is not my first language.

✎✎✎

It was all dark and malicious, just the way he was built. the first time i saw him, i thought he was an angel.. perhaps he is, but the one who was stripped from grace just like how Lucifer was.

A fallen Angel.

It was all Mike's idea that i was trapped here!

❏ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦-,

“spooky sleepover, woooo..” Mike said joking, wearing the Ghostface mask as he chuckled. Maya just rolled her eyes at his childish behaviour.

“come on, Mike. we all know that ghosts don't exist.” Maya said.

“then what did you become after you died?” i raised a brow at her. “If ghosts are not what we become after we die, do we turn into gnomes that clean the gardens?”

"I bet Maya turn into a flying pony that farts sparkles.” Mike quipped, looking at both girls with his goofy grin. “anyway, i have some games to play to summon ghosts since Maya didn't believe that they existed. It would probably change her mind a bit.”

“Mike, what kind of board games do you pick from the trash can this time?”

The man shrugged, as he opened the board game that had a black circle in the middle, with a few tokens for the players. The instructions said, if you lose the game or break the rules, the devil himself will come and drag you to his place in hell.

“sounds interesting. who wants to be dragged to the hell by the devil? wooo-” Mike's impersonation of ghosts was cut off by Maya slapping him across his face.

“shut up, Mike. throw the dice already.” Maya huffs in annoyance.

we played the games for a few minutes, Mike was the one to reach the finish first, followed by Maya in the second place. i looked at them after realising that I lost the game completely.

“what now? the devil will come and kidnap me?" i chuckled playfully, as Mike couldn't help but laugh his asses off. for us, it was a bit.. ridiculous that the devil will kidnap one of us just because we lose the game.

“oh, bloody hell! would the devil come and kidnap me to his dimensions? holding me as his prisoner, and even breed me?” i said dramatically, while Mike and Maya couldn't hold their laughter back. Mike started to roll on the ground while holding his stomach from laughing too much.

“𝗔𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮.” said the deep, husky voice behind us.

❐

For a moment i thought i was possessed, but I'm not. i keep.. hearing things inside my head. the man who keeps telling me to rearrange my guts and don't freak out is the one who dragged me into this dimension of hell. All i saw was his eyes.

The perfect combination of blue, like the cold ice of Antarctica. His eyes are bright but hollow at the same time, as if captivating his prey and charmed them into his wicked desires.

“you can open your eyes now.” whisper the voice again.

does that mean I'm sleeping all of this time? or did he put some kind of black magic on me when he kidnapped me? so many questions in my head that were unanswered.

Once i came to the view, i saw him.

“what the..” i muttered, unable to move a muscle. was this some kind of magic that he used against me as well?

“now that you willingly summoned me and even gave yourself for me to breed,” the man said, before he sprang on his feet and looked down at me. “it will happen soon, don't you worry.”

then i realized, i was under his magic. i couldn't move a muscle as much as i tried, it was all futile attempts. i was laying on his bed on my back, wrists above my head and my legs spread.

as much as i hate to admit, i was naked before his eyes.

he was there, hands in his pockets as he looked down at me with his bored eyes. he stared at me for a good moment before one of his hands reached out to touch my clit.

i hissed when his finger circled it gently, the swollen nub peeked shyly from the folds, inviting his touches more.

he grinned. “regret your decision, pet? it's too late, for the pact has been made.”

He grinned wickedly, i swear i could see him licking his lips hungrily while his eyes hold a somewhat lustful look. i could feel his calloused fingertips on my bare skin, his breath tickling me to the nerves.

the bed creaked as he sat himself between my legs, spreading them open for him. he placed one of my legs on his shoulder, taking a closer look on my cunt.

“my, my..look at that shy flower.” he chuckled, before he pinched my clit harshly that got me gasping and arched my back.

“who..ah! who are you?” i asked in between my breaths, looking at him confusedly. the man only smiled in return before landing a harsh slap on my cunt that has begun to drip.

“A leader of devils, the owner of this dimension, a blasphemy to mankind..but for you, simply a lover.” he answered, placing small kisses on my inner thigh that was on his shoulder.

“..a what..?”

he shushed me once more, dipping his head down to my heated cunt and placed a long kiss on my swollen clit. i gasped, bucking my hips slightly to this stranger. he looked passionate while doing so..

“may i have some of your sweet nectar, my love?”

i was about to ask him what he meant by that, but it was immediately cut off by my sudden, loud moan that filled the room while i felt him thrusting his tongue, lapping my essence. what is this.. feeling..?

“ah!”

i heard him groaned in pleasure, as he continued to lap everything that he could taste while his thumb toys with my clit, pinching and circling it harshly.

his mustache brushed against my folds, making my eyes roll back in pleasure at the feeling of his rough facial hair. i couldn't move at all, even just to wiggle a bit. i couldn't help but moan and whined in pleasure while he eats me like a starved man.

he looked up at me with a grin, his hot breath fanned over my mound.

“you need a name to scream, my love?” he teased, his voice changing to a sultry manner. “It's August. you may scream my name now.”

“wait-”

before i could even finish he continued his doings before, making me scream out his name. August.. that's the name of this man. his tongue lapping up the elixir from between my legs roughly, his calloused hands keeping my thighs spread open for him.

he nursed on my clit, locking his lips around the engorged nub while his ringer and middle finger pushed past my entrance, massaging the spot that made me see stars. all i did was just moaning intensely beneath him, completely under his mercy.

“ah! August-,” i screamed out in pleasure, as the coil in my belly tightened. August let out a muffled moan as he drank my release.

after a moment he pulled back with a huff, licking his lips as he looked at me with his cold gaze. his hands were still gripping on the meat of my thighs, spreading it open for him still.

“you tasted divine, my dear..it makes me want to bury my cock into you and plant my seed there.. watching it grow and blossoming inside you.” he whispered, his hand moved to caress my belly.

“but not just yet, my dear. we will wait for the Red Moon tomorrow. it will ensure a healthy heir..and perhaps a son that is powerful as me.” he smirked, rubbing his clothed erection against my wet cunt, whimpering slightly at the thought of him penetrating me.

“tomorrow you'll be mine, my dear.”

❦❦❦

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@thearcana-moonlight

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[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Happy Thursday! I’ve got a short chapter because I’m a little behind on writing (been a crazy few weeks). Next week is a real treat, but I adore this chapter too. It also didn’t get that much editing so please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes

Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Chris Turpin *Mirador slash? 🤭

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!! Not many warnings for this chapter, but please remember this entire story is absolutely not intended for minor’s consumption… bit of comfort, brief undressing, a boner hehe, a fat crush developing, long monologue about the past, I did some light researching about dates and some historical facts but if I got anything inaccurate I’m sorry! mentions of war/death, vampire!AU

Word count: 2.6k

Jake woke with the sound of rain pattering on the glass of the greenhouse. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep, but when he sat up slowly he noticed a thin knit blanket had been thrown over his torso. Even if he didn’t necessarily need it - wasn’t like he was going to get cold, it was a sweet gesture.

His senses came back to him slower than usual. Likely due to the lack of sleep he’d had. Yesterday specifically, it felt like he laid there silently and stared up at the ceiling of that musty motel room, the sound of Sam’s breathing making his eye twitch slightly. Even before then, when he shared the basement at home with Josh. He’d lay down, fall asleep, but then he’d wake up and count the seconds until the sun went down.

It was the hunger. It felt like it would never go away.

Another quiet sound, one that commonly wouldn’t draw attention, made Jake turn his head. Chris stepped through the door, his shirt nearly drenched and the shell of his ears poking free from the blond hair that now dripped rainwater as he walked across the room. He stopped in the far corner, setting down a small tote full of whatever he needed to go out in this rain for, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Jake didn’t mean to stare. Actually he felt like it was a bit of an invasion of privacy considering Chris probably thought he was still asleep. But as the black material slid down his shoulders exposing cool, creamy, skin underneath, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Jake tugged on the blanket, letting it bunch together around his waist to hide how riled up he was getting. Curse these damn vampire hormones. It was like going through puberty all over again.

In pulling the blanket up, Jake didn’t realize the book he’d fallen asleep reading was still perched on the edge of the chair. It went tumbling down to the floor with an echoing thud causing Chris to glance over his shoulder to see a wide eyed Jake staring back at him.

“Didn’t think I could wake you”. His voice was laced with amusement, but Jake couldn’t tell if it was because he looked like a deer in headlights. Or because he was using humor to hide something else.

“Sorry, guess my tendency to sleep lightly continues into my afterlife” Jake was trying to be funny, but his words came out sounding more pitiful than he’d intended.

“Why are you apologizing?” Chris asked while he grabbed a new shirt and started to button it up. Jake bit his lip harder as he continued to watch - he didn’t think Chris minded since he’d turned around to face him now. Each time he fastened a button, his hands slid higher, working from bottom to top so he wouldn’t accidentally skip one. Just like Jake did, he left the top few buttons open, but his hands passed between the collar and his neck to pull his hair free from underneath the fabric.

Jake’s eyes lingered there, looking away only when Chris started to approach.

“Actually I went to get you this” he began, pulling some more herbs and what looked like fresh roots from his bag. He took the ingredients and dunked them in a bucket of clean water, rinsing mud from them before taking his knife and cutting them up. Now finely minced Chris added a few more things from around the greenhouse, collecting everything into a tea infuser that he dropped into a mug of hot water he’d been boiling over a flame.

“Here, this should help curb your appetite a little” he offered Jake the mug, who was unsure at first but wasn’t about to refuse after watching Chris make it from scratch. Especially if he’d gone out in this rain just to gather everything.

He took one sip and as if a curse was lifted from his shoulders, his body relaxed fully back into the chair. “What is this?”

“Again with the questions” Chris chuckled, already cleaning up the small mess he’d made even though this entire place was practically covered in a film of dust and overgrown with weeds from the brush outside that had infiltrated through tiny cracks between the window panes.

“Sorry” Jake caught himself apologizing again. Taking another larger gulp, his tongue being burned but quickly healing. “It’s just you’re really interesting. I didn’t realize alchemy had so many uses”.

“Actually that was a spell taught to me by my wife”.

Jake nearly spit out the rest of the tea at that slip of personal information. So he’s married?

“My late wife” Chris corrected. Either he saw the look of defeat flash across Jake’s face, or he still had to remind himself she was gone. Jake felt too nervous to ask.

“Her name was Esmeralda. She was born in St. Augustine, Florida by a Spanish conquistador father and Native American mother”.

“Spanish conquistador?” Jake’s interest was piqued again. He honestly couldn’t believe he was actually talking to someone who was around in that time period. If he could still dream then surely this would be one.

The smile on Chris’s face widened. He wasn’t one to go around recounting his whole life story to people he’d only just met, but something about Jake made him comfortable and at ease. Probably the softness in his eyes.

“I crossed the Atlantic for the colonies in 1762. I’d studied all I could in England and heard there were many brilliant minds publishing papers from Massachusetts and Rhode Island. I spent nearly a year traveling, learning, attending one too many pretentious dinner parties, but tensions were rising in the northeast when the period of salutary neglect ended. It was then we met west, in Louisiana”.

Finished with his tea, and feeling remarkably better, Jake followed Chris around while he tended to his plants and continued his story.

“She left her home when Spain gave their Florida colonies over to England. Shifting colonial powers were relocating a lot of Native American tribes as well, so she followed her mother’s relatives to the newly awarded Spanish Louisiana. While on their journey she learned from her grandmother, their tribe's healer, how to harness all of the powers of nature. And how to respect it in turn”.

“Everything about her was good and beautiful. My god, I’d never met someone so beautiful. I didn’t know how to conduct myself, for I was afraid I’d sound like a fool if I tried to tell her. So instead I did what I do best, I learned from her. My teachings had always been grounded in science and chemistry, but she opened my eyes to the world of mysticism and spirituality. We fell in love hard and fast - don’t think I know how to do love any other way. She insisted we be married by her people, and although I knew it wouldn’t be legal by my country’s standards, it was still the best night of my life”.

“Louisiana was so different then either of us could have imagined. The people, the culture, the history, it was a growing hot spot for those who believed in voodoo and witchcraft, and the supernatural. Like vampires. The natives had been feuding with the vampires for years, believing that their existence was against nature and therefore they were all evil spirits trapped here on Earth, unable to rejoin their ancestors. Just as soon as the rumors of war began in the north, we faced our own enemies. Esmeralda’s grandmother was using her power to aid in the fight against the vampires, but when she was killed they came looking for my wife. I told her we should leave, sail back to my home. No one thought the rebels were going to win at that point, so I assured her we could come back when things settled down. She said she couldn’t leave her family, and I couldn’t leave her, so we stayed. During the ritual to appoint her the tribe's new healer, they bound our life forces together”.

Chris paused for a moment to collect himself, as if he were reliving the past in his mind and the memories that haunted him were almost too unbearable to utter aloud.

“One night I came home after a trip to town. We lived in a little cottage out in the valley where the Ouachita river meets the Mississippi delta. That’s where her people had settled. It was a good place for us because it was close enough she could walk between her two homes, and it was just a half a day's ride where I was trying to set up a shop. As soon as I arrived I could tell something was wrong. My stomach was turning, I felt like I was going to pass out. I found her in the garden, covered in blood”.

Chris started to slow his speech, finding it harder to continue now that he was getting to the difficult part. Jake wanted to comfort him, having learned first hand what it’s like to come home and find a loved one in that state. He kept his distance though, unsure of how to come across as empathetic without being too forward.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” Jake finally added his input. Of course he wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything he could about this inspiring man he found before him, but he wouldn’t push his way through it.

“No, I'm alright” Chris took another moment to reflect, pausing what he was mindlessly working on to make himself his own cup of tea. “I want you to know what my part in all of this is. And to do that I need to tell you how it all happened”.

Jake waited while Chris sipped on his tea, finding plenty of small trinket looking items to entertain himself with in the meantime until Chris was ready to continue.

“They didn’t kill her, tried that with the last healer so they knew the tribe would just find another to continue the work. You see they believed their healer harnessed the spirit of all their past selves and that they could use that combined energy to protect everyone. So instead they turned her, trapped all of those spirits in her body for all eternity. The tribe was devastated. Turned on us despite how much I begged for their help. When she woke I told her how much I loved her, and how I would do everything in my power to find a cure, but she refused to become what her people hated. She wouldn’t complete the transformation, so by the time the sun rose over the river I held her in my arms on the porch and I watched the life drain from her eyes”.

“I thought I’d go home after. There was nothing left for me there in that strange place, but by that point there was a blockade because of the war. So I kept moving west, traveled with a group of traders, helped build budding towns that popped up on the routes just like this one. For a while I thought, besides a broken heart, I had come out the other end unscathed… until I fell ill. It was a particularly brutal winter, and I was hospitalized at a camp with some soldiers who had been injured in a battle nearly a month ago. Their regimen had moved on already, leaving behind those who were still too incapacitated to continue on foot. One night I lay awake, unable to sleep because of the heaviness in my chest, and in the moonlight I saw her again for the first time in nearly a year. She came to me in my feverish state to give me a message. I felt her hand on my forehead like ice, and my illness began to fade away. She reminded me of the ritual that bound our life forces together. Even though she hadn’t drank blood to complete the transition, her spirit was still trapped here and in turn I would be too”.

“So are you immortal then?” Jake dared ask another question, but Chris didn’t mind. He never had.

“Yes and no. My spirit is bound to hers, so when she went into transition somehow by whatever supernatural force that creates vampires I did too. But because I was never bit I also couldn’t complete the transition process. I don’t age, I won’t die, but I can get hurt, sick, I still need nutrition, no blood. I tried for a century to find the cure, so that her spirit can join her ancestors in the afterlife and I can move on as well, but despite my numerous efforts I’ve fallen short every time. Eventually I needed some time away from it all, so I concocted a potion that would put me to sleep for a while. I had just seen the end of the Civil War and when I woke we were just coming out of the Cold War. I knew a lot would change, but it took me quite a long time to get back into society. Technology had advanced so much in that time. It was overwhelming at first, but I adapted and I’ve been rebuilding my work so that I can fulfill my purpose”.

“Well, is there anything I can do to help?” Jake searched for a way to prove he could be of use, but his knowledge of herbs and minerals only extended to their medicinal purposes. Even then it had been a long time since he’d taken that class in college and he was quite out of practice having been privileged enough to work in a hospital with medical supplies readily on hand. “I can… I don’t know, be your guinea pig?”

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you” Chris grinned wickedly, like he was some mad scientist about to harness the lightning outside to turn Jake into Frankenstein’s monster. “A few drops of your blood would help though. I’ve been getting some from Callum but he’s always so reserved about it. I hate to keep asking but I can’t get this formula quite right”.

“Will you show me what you’re doing with it?”

“Absolutely! And, I’m willing to return the favor when needed. You don’t have to keep hiding yourself”.

Jake tried to stop the frown that was forming on his face, but then he realized that was probably the ‘hiding’ that Chris was referring to. “I’m not trying to be difficult, my brother Josh, he’s got it worse than I do. I have to be strong for him”.

“No one has ‘got it worse’ than the other. I’ve met plenty of vampires all in different states and ages. There’s no predicting how you will take to it, and as far as being strong goes I sensed your brother’s aura in the church”.

“Oh?” Jake’s brows unpinched, but rose in curiosity.

“Have you ever considered that he might be the strong one and that you need someone to look after you?”

Jake felt his throat clench, but not in hunger. This was the first time since becoming a vampire that he’d felt on the brink of tears, but he held them back because he saw Josh cry blood and it looked really gross and uncomfortable. He lifted his arm and started to roll his sleeves up. If he was to bleed then it would be put to good use. “So? How much do you need? Where do we start?”

Taglist:

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@sanguinebats @holdingup-fallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-choose-the-road @alantern-inthenight @scarabsinthestardust @josh-iamyour-mama

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[sena-seastar]

The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warning: Ableism, violence (dragon's fighting), descriptions of burns and other injuries

A/n: I don't have much experience writing fight scenes, so I hope I did well enough here. There may also be slight medical inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. As always, dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

Aerys

“Fuck you. I told you we should’ve sent our dragons. And now look what’s happened.” Aegon rants, pointing his finger at the map.

Aerys shifts uncomfortably in his seat, or Ser Criston Cole's seat. Aegon had ordered him to sit in the hand’s chair during their meeting. Aerys could feel the eyes of Aegon’s council watching his every move. He did not like it. It made him feel like some sort of exotic animal on display. For them to point and gawk at.

“Daemon, of all people, has taken Harrenhal. I give you a job, and now you just sit there. It’s your fucking castle!” Aegon yelled, singling out the Lord of Harrenhal, Larys Strong.

Aerys threw the man a pitiful glance. It was not like the master of whisperers could do much. He was here in the capital, and Harrenhal is leagues away. The man was also a cripple. Men seldom follow those they believe to be weaker than themselves. And if Daemon was there, then so was Caraxes. Aerys could not necessarily fault the men of House Strong for bending the knee. Daemon was not known for his merciful nature. 

The master of whisperers kept his head down, enduring Aegon’s wrath. He peeked his eyes up once Aegon finished.

“Well, that castle is more crippled than I am, your grace.” He replied meekly.

His jest did nothing to soothe Aegon’s anger. The man was growing restless. Being deprived of his revenge for Jaehaerys's murder only fueled the fire within him. 

“It’s like to drive Daemon to madness as he attempts to make use of it. It is beyond his faculties. It is also penniless, as I happily control all of its gold.” Lord Larys added. “So, as Harrenhal saps Daemon’s resolve, the false queen remains trapped on her island, and Ser Criston continues felling castles in the Crownlands.” 

The mention of Rhaenyra made Aerys shift uncomfortably in his seat. He dropped his head, fingers reaching for his ring, until he remembered he was no longer wearing it. A lump rose in his throat, and he felt nauseous. Perhaps it was the guilt of his betrayal slowly consuming him. Aegon turned around, returning to his seat at the end of the table. He rested his hands on the back of his chair.

“Wh–” Aegon stammered, his eyes looking around at the men of his council. “I need to be informed of these things if I am to make informed rulings. I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies.”

He turns his eyes to Aerys, looking for support. Aerys clears his throat, sitting upright.

“Regardless of who holds the coin, the king is right,” Aerys says. “Harrenhal and the Riverlands should be of the utmost concern. From what I understand, the blacks had not acted for nearly a fortnight after the death of Rhaenyra’s son. You should have used that time to seize Harrenhal for yourselves, but” Aerys sighed, exasperated. “I suppose there’s no point in mourning over a lost opportunity.”

“We have sent Ravens to Lord Tully, but he has yet to respond,” Maester Orwyle explains.

“And with Prince Daemon now occupying Harrenhal, there is not much we can do,” Lord Tyland added.

“We could force him out,” Aerys responds.

The table is filled with disbelieving scoffs and looks of confusion.

“And how do you suppose we do that, Lord Reyne?” Lord Jasper snickers.

“We send dragons,” Aerys answers.

“Prince Daemon has a dragon of his own-”

“He has one, Lord Tyland,” Aerys interrupted the master of coin.

The room goes quiet as they wait for Aerys to finish.

“Aemond and I will take our dragons and root him out.”

“You intend to challenge him? The blacks already outnumber us when it comes to dragons. If you or gods forbid Prince Aemond were to fall in battle, we may as well wave the white flag now.”

“Daemon will not fight us, Lord Jasper,” Aerys sighed. “If it were me or Aemond alone, he would certainly take up the challenge. But with the two of us together, he will flee. Daemon may be rash and impulsive, but he will not rush into a battle he does not think he could win.”

“And if you successfully chase him out, what will you do then?” Lord Jasper asked. “Ser Criston has already taken most of the fighting men here. Even if we take the castle, we do not have the men to hold it.”

“I will stay behind with Agana and treat with the rivermen myself,” Aerys explains. “Lord Tully has yet to declare for the blacks. Perhaps we could offer him something.”

“And what do you have in mind, Lord Reyne?” Lord Tyland asked. “As Maester Orwyle has already stated, the man refuses to respond.”

“A marriage pact.”

“He does have a daughter who has just come of martial age,” Maester Orwyle nods.

“And who do you suggest we betrothed the girl to, Lord Reyne? You?” Lord Jasper asked.

“No,” Aerys and Aegon say in unison.

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Aerys cleared his throat.

“No, Lord Jasper. Not me.” Aerys shook his head. “The king has another brother in Oldtown. Daeron has just come of martial age as well. I propose we betroth them.”

“You think Lord Tully will marry his only daughter to a third son?”

“Third son or not, Daeron is a dragon rider. His children will be as well. Tell me, Lord Jasper, do you know many lords who would reject having a dragon on their side?”

Ironrod remains silent, lowering his head.

“Harrenhal must wait,” Aemond interjected.

Aerys closed his eyes, praying that the gods would smite the one-eyed coward where he sat. 

“Ser Criston is marching on Rook’s Rest.”

Aerys let out a quiet sigh. Once again, his prayers went unanswered. He kept his eyes on the table, refusing to even look at the man. Aerys knew he would have to face the man, but he was not prepared to do it so soon. 

“Rook’s Re- A pathetic prize. I gave no such command-”

“The castle is small,” Aemond interrupted once more. 

He stood for his seat, marching over to the board. 

“Weakly defended, and Lord Staunton sat on Rhaenyra’s council. After Cole smashes it, we’ll have Dragonstone effectively cut off by land. This war will not be won with dragons alone but with dragons flying behind armies of men.”

“No!” Aegon protested. “Have him turn about. I want Harrenhal back!”

Aegon marched to the board, his finger angrily tapping against Harrenhal on the map. Aemond ignored him, turning away.

“Cole is already preparing his attack,” he explained, returning to his seat.

Aegon turned his head to Aerys, and the two shared a look of confusion. 

“Uh, how-how do you know of this?” Aegon stammered, furrowing his brows. 

“He sent word to me,” Aemond answered as if it were obvious.

“To you? The two of you have been plotting... without my authority?” Aegon’s voice hardened.

Aemond sighed, “You had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as holding court, choosing your sobriquet, naming imbecilic lickspittles to our Kingsgaurd, and hosting private meetings with your... childhood companion.”

“Tread carefully,” Aerys warned with a scathing glower. “You may be his brother, but he is your king.”

Aerys balled his hands into tight fists. His nails dug painfully into his palms. He would not be surprised if they had pierced through his skin. Aemond stared at him. That vexing, never-fading smirk sat on his lips. But there was something in his gaze, something Aerys couldn’t quite place. Was it arrogance or shame? Aerys would spit on him if he could. He hoped the monster felt guilty. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay directly led to the murder of Jaehaerys. Aerys hoped that guilt would haunt him.

“Mm,” Aemond hummed, looking away.

Aerys continued to scowl at the man until he felt someone kick his foot. He turned his attention back to Aegon. The man shot him a warning look. Aerys gave him a slight nod, silently apologizing for his outburst.

“Do you have a wiser strategy, my king?” Aemond asked. “If so, you should voice it to your council. We all await your answer.”

There is a short pause as the council awaits the king's response. All eyes turn towards the monarch.

“I can have to...” Aegon's lip twitched as he gathered his thoughts. “War?”

He turned his head to Aerys, looking for validation. Aerys gave him a tight-lipped smile, not wanting to humiliate him further. An awkward tension enveloped the room.

“Harrenhal is a useful morass,” Aemond spoke to the council. “It will keep Daemon well-occupied while we strengthen our host and weaken Rhaenyra’s support on the mainland. We will deal with it in the Riverlands in time.”

Aegon sighed, sinking into his chair, defeated. 

“But right now. Rook’s Rest is an easy target and a worthy effort. Don’t you agree, my king?”

Aegon said nothing. His eyes flickered at the men sitting at the table. It was clear that he felt cast aside. And in that, he was right. They had disregarded everything he had said in favor of Aemond and Ser Criston’s plot. Aegon gave a begrudging nod, agreeing with Aemond. Not that he had much choice. 

Aerys looked at Aegon with concern, fighting the urge to reach out to him. Aegon gave him a slight nod before lowering his head. Aerys sighed, turning his head to stare at the wall behind Ser Jasper’s head, wishing for this meeting to be adjourned.

-

Aerys’ body was sore from sitting in the hand’s chair. The small council meeting had taken most of the day before Aegon abruptly left after declaring how bored he was. Aerys himself had left not long after. Ser Thorne escorted him back to his chambers. The queen dowager still did not trust him enough to have free reign of the castle.

“You must eat more than that,” Wylla protested. “You’re growing frail.”

“I ate the bread and half the soup,” Aerys said. “Now, where is it?”

Wylla froze, her eyes darting around the room as if checking to see if someone was watching them. She hurried towards him, handing him the quill, ink, and scroll she had stored in her pockets.

“Thank you, Wylla,” he smiled. “Here,” he said, tossing her a large black purse. “As a token of my gratitude.”

She frowned, peeking into the bag. Wylla gasped, trying to return it. “This is far more than we agreed on. I cannot take it.”

Aerys waved his hand, pushing her away. “You must. I have put you at great risk by involving you in my scheme. Keep the coin. It is the least I can do.”

Her lip wobbled as she nodded her head in agreement. “Who are you writing?” She asked.

“Rhaenyra,” Aerys answered truthfully.

She gasped, “They could have your head for this!”

“I need- I need to know the truth,” Aerys stammered. Dipping the quill in ink. “I need to know if she was behind the murder of Jaehaerys.”

“Oh gods,” Wylla sighed. “And if she denies it, then what? You’ve already aligned yourself with the king. You said you are his friend. He depends on you!”

Aerys ignored her.

“Will you betray him?” She asked suddenly.

The question startled him. His head snapped towards her.

“No,” Aery hissed.

“I just,” he sighed. “I need to know Wylla.”

“This is a mistake,” she reproached. “If they find out you’re sending messages to Rhaenyra without their permission, they will have your head!"

Aerys sighed, “I know.”

“You’re a fool,” She shook her head disapprovingly. 

“I know that too,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Make it quick.” She replied. “My friend at the fishing port will not wait long. We must hurry if you wish for him to deliver it.”

He nodded, quickly putting quill to paper. 

Dear Rhaenyra, I hope this letter finds you well. I wish to express my sincerest condolences for Luke's passing. You have my deepest sympathies. I am sure by now you’ve heard that I have aligned myself with Aegon. It is true. I am sorry. I owe you a great debt for everything you have done for me all these years. I had hoped that one day I would be able to find a way to repay you, and yet it seems I have done the exact opposite. But that is not why I write this letter. Aegon has accused you of having a hand in the death of his son. I do not wish to believe you could be responsible for such savagery. I need to know-

Wylla cleared her throat loudly, nudging her hip against the table. 

“What are you-” Aerys gasped as the ink spilled across the table.

Wylla snatched the scroll, hiding it away in her bosom.

The doors of his chamber opened before he could react. Lady Alicent entered, her eyes searching every corner of the room. Her panicked expression made his stomach churn.

“What’s happened?” He asked.

She walked towards the table, resting her hands against the wood. She hung her head, releasing a shuddered sigh.

“Aegon is gone.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “Gone where?”

“Rook’s Rest, no doubt.” 

“Rook’s rest? The fool is going to get himself killed!” Aerys fumed.

Alicent kept her head down, not saying anything.

“You must let me go after him,” he demanded.

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes wide. “No- no, absolutely not.”

“You must!” Aerys insisted.

“No, I cannot.” The queen dowager shook her head.

“I have to bring him back!” Aerys contested. “Dragonstone is just across the bay! Lord Staunton sits on Rhaenyra’s council! What if she sends one of her dragons to defend his land?”

“Aegon has Sunfyre with him.”

“Sunfyre is small, with no more battle experience than his rider!” Aerys cried out. 

“I do not trust you!” She hissed, gesturing to the quill and ink on the table. “How do I know you will not flee to Dragonstone the second I let you go?”

Aerys marched forward, taking her roughly by the arms.

“You have just lost your grandson. Are you so eager to lose a son as well?!”

His chest heaved wildly as his heart thumped in his chest. The woman’s eyes widened, filled with fear.

Aerys sighed, dropping his hands to his side. “I’m sorry,” he choked.

He lowered his head, his eyes burning with tears. His lips trembled, and his face contorted into anguish. Would Aegon die? Would he lose him so soon?

“Go,” she whispered.

Shocked, he lifted his head to face her. A small fire of hope kindled in his heart. He nodded his head. Aerys ran over to the chest at the bottom of his bed. He rummaged through his things, tossing everything onto the floor until he found a pair of riding gloves. He shoved them into his pocket as he sprinted out of the room. He did not slow down for a second, not paying any mind to the people he knocked out of the way. 

When Aerys reached the outer yard, he grabbed the nearest horse. Pushing some lord, he could not be bothered to remember out of the way. The man cursed at him as he rode away.

He made it to the dragon pit in record time. Aerys hopped off of the horse before it even had time to stop. He stumbled but carried on. 

Aerys pushed the doors of the dragon pit open. He ignored the dragon keepers, who shouted after him as he ran towards the man-made caves where the dragons were kept. The roars of a restless Agana soon drowned out their voices. He could hear the loud thuds as she rammed her head against the giant gate, trying to reach him.

“I am here, my dragon!”

Agana whined, trying to snake her head past the bars.

“Open the gate,” he ordered.

The dragon's keepers looked at one another, unsure what to do.

“Open the fucking gate!” He commanded.

Agana bared her teeth, letting out a low growl. The men did not waste another second. Aerys slipped under the gate, not waiting for it to rise fully. Agana cooed, pressing her head against his chest. 

“I’ve missed you too,”  he whispered.

Aerys leaned his head down to press it against hers. He could not fight the tears that escaped his eyes. He had missed her dearly. Being away from her was the worst pain imaginable. 

“We must go,”  he sniffled, pulling back to meet her eyes.

He ran his hand across her neck as he walked to her side. Agana lowered her body to the ground. Aerys pulled on his riding gloves. His fingers curled around the ropes attached to her saddle. He quickly made the climb, as he had done a thousand times before. Aerys hoisted his leg over the saddle, settling in. He rubbed a gloved hand over Agana’s silver scales. 

“Sōvēs, Agana!”

-

Aerys’ hands gripped tightly onto the handlebars of his saddle. The dread in his heart grew as his eyes found no trace of Sunfyre’s golden scales. The wind blew hard against his face as Agana soared through the sky. He was unsure of how long Aegon had been gone. Would he reach him in time? Was he already too late?

Agana called to Aerys, alerting him to some potential danger. Aerys stayed silent, listening. From the distance, he could make out the faint sound of a dragon’s roar.

“Follow it, Agana!”

She shrieked, obeying his command. Agana charged forward, moving even faster now that she had a clear grasp on her target. Aerys squinted his eyes. In the distance, he could make out brilliant flashes of red and gold. Icy fire coursed through his veins, igniting his skin in a rush of cold flames. His entire body was shaking as fear seeped into his bones. Rhaenys was here? Had they sent her alone? Was Baela or Jace here as well?

Agana hissed as a giant burst of dragon flame lit up the sky.

“Halt!” Aerys called.

Agana followed his command. Her wings flapped loudly as they hovered in the air, watching Meleys attack Sunfyre from below. 

Aerys’ heart hammered in his chest.

This would be his only chance for freedom. He could turn away and fly to Dragonstone, grovel at Rhaenyra’s feet, and beg for her forgiveness. He still held onto hope that she would take him back. Aerys was her nephew—the last living memory of her sister. Rhaenyra had opened her heart to him and raised him alongside her children. He owed her a debt that could never be repaid. Could he turn his back on her now when she needed him most?

Then Aegon’s voice echoed in his mind, his words repeating over and over again.

“You’ll never choose me. You never have.”

Aerys closed his eyes as the many shared memories of his and Aegon’s youth flooded his mind. He remembered the many nights Aegon stayed awake with him, distracting him from his misery. The many hours of boredom that Aegon endured so that Aerys would not have to sit in the library alone. Aerys thought of the many times he held Aegon as he cried. He had to comfort him often when the boy’s mother was too harsh on him. Or when his father’s lack of endearment became too much for him to bear.

Aegon was his friend, his very first friend. Time had driven them apart, but that love Aerys held for him had never faded. If anything, the distance had only made it grow stronger.

Sunfyre’s cries of pain echoed in the air, forcing Aerys back into the present. His eyes widened, and he watched in horror as the golden dragon fell from the sky. 

Sunfrye screeched in pain. He flapped his wings, desperately trying to regain flight. The dragon was able to spin around, catching himself before he crashed to the ground. Sunfyre shrieked as he flapped his wings, ascending higher in the sky, trying to reach them. Meleys circled, heading straight for him.

Now was the time. The choice Aerys made now would set him on a path he could never return from. If he turned away, he would be leaving Aegon to die. Sunfyre stood no chance against the fierce Red Queen. But if he stayed, he would have no choice but to face the Red Queen and her rider himself. His heart ached at the thought of sending Agana into battle. 

Princess Rhaenys was no great friend of his, but he was close to the woman’s granddaughters. In those years on Dragonstone, he had come to see the girls as his sisters. If Agana and Sunfyre fought together, there was a chance they could overpower Melyes and her rider. Yet the thought of doing so made him feel ill. There was no one more accursed than the kinslayer.

A deep grumble formed in Agana’s throat. Aerys reached a hand back, strapping himself into his saddle. His fingers curled tight around the handlebars as he gave the command.

“Angōs, Agana!”

The silver dragon turned her head to him, looking him in the eyes. The look of confused sadness she gave him filled his heart with great sorrow. He rubbed a gloved hand over the scales on her back.

Sunfyre let out a loud coo, calling to her. Agana turned her head, watching him struggle to reach them. She let out a doleful cry but obeyed.

Agana charged forward, ramming her head into Meleys’, using her horns to drive the red queen away from Sunfyre. The two dragons of silver and red danced in the air, biting and clawing at one another. Agana latched onto the side of Meleys’ neck, trying to bite down as hard as she could. The red queen shrieked; she rounded her neck as best as possible, trying to lunge at Aerys, who tried desperately to avoid her teeth. 

Agana lifted her wing, trying to shield him. Meleys wasted no time, digging her claws into the silver dragon’s underbelly, but Agana’s jaw only tightened. 

The red queen roared, snapping her jaws at Aerys once more. She managed to sink her teeth into the muscle of Agana’s arm. The silver dragon finally released her neck and pulled back with a hiss. Meleys used this time to dig her claws into the side of Agana’s face. The silver dragon shrieked in pain, and they began falling.

The red queen pulled away, chasing after Sunfrye once again. Aerys tried to command Agana to fly, but the silver dragon shrieked in agony. Aerys could see the blood spurting from her face, but he could not see the full extent of her injury. He turned his head, watching as they began plummeting down to the ground. The man pulled one of his gloves off, rubbing his bare palm over the scales of her back. Come on, he whispered in his mind. Fly. You have to fly. 

He repeated the words in his head over and over again. The world seemed to slow down to the point where he could feel his pulse thrumming in his veins. His hands shook, but not with fear. Aerys grabbed the reins, pulling them with all the strength he could muster.

Just as they were about to hit the ground, Agana pulled up and flapped her wings. They hovered just a few inches off the ground as Agana tried to overcome her pain.

Sunfyre’s screeches and Melyes' growls rang loudly above them. They both raised their heads, watching Melyes catch Sunfyre by the wing. Agana growled, giving chase. Sunfyre cried and clawed, trying to wriggle free from the red queen's grasp. Agana rushed forward. She tried to aim for the red queen’s rider, but Aerys pulled at the reins, steering her away.

He could not do it. He did not wish to bear the burden of being a kinslayer. The gods had cursed him enough as it is. They just needed to get Melyes’ attention on them and buy Sunfyre enough time to get away.

The two of them circled back around. Agana growled and sunk her teeth into one of the red queen’s legs, trying to pull her away, but to no avail. Sunfyre lunged at Meleys’ head, ripping off one of her many horns. The red queen screeched but refused to let go. She kicked her other leg at Agana, trying to fend her off while still holding Sunfyre. Agana’s teeth chomped down, and she shook her head wildly as if trying to tear Meley’s leg off her body. 

Suddenly, she stopped. Agana snapped her head to the side, and a low, guttural growl emitted from her throat. Aerys barely had time to turn his head before coming face to face with a giant ball of fire.

Agana pulled up, but not fast enough. Aerys howled in agony as the unbearable heat of the dragon flame bit into the right side of his body. The putrid smell of burning flesh overwhelmed his senses. His eyes burned from the smoke, and he struggled to breathe. He could feel them climbing higher as Agana tried to get him out of harm's way. 

The nightmarish screams of Sunfyre filled the air. Aerys wiped his eyes, trying to clear his vision. He watched, paralyzed by fear, as the golden dragon fell from the sky. Agana did not hesitate. She dived down, flapping her wings as hard as she could, trying to reach Sunfrye before he could plummet to the ground. But they were too late. Sunfyre crashed into the trees with a large burst of flames. 

Agana and Aerys both roared in anguish.

They stopped, hovering above the trees. Aerys stretched his neck as far as he could, trying desperately to find some sign- any sign of Aegon. There was none. 

No! He cannot be dead. He can't be. 

A terrible, sickening dread washed over him. Aerys heart was thudding in the back of his throat. Something inside him wrenched and soared. This could not be the end. Not now, not yet. It was too soon.

“No,” He whispered. “Land, Agana!” 

Agana flapped her wings, easing herself to the ground. Aerys hastily unstrapped himself from the saddle. He slid down the side of her body. The shock of his landing caused him to stumble, but he was able to keep from falling. 

Agana let out a whining, breathing-like noise. She turned her neck, pressing her head against his shoulder as if trying to nurse his wounds. Aerys winced as he looked upon his wounds. There were small patches of slightly charred flesh here and there. The red, black, and yellow burns covered his right shoulder and extended down to his elbow. But there was no pain. The entire area just felt numb, though he knew the pain would surely come later.

Agana pulled away. Aerys could see her face now. Giant, jagged claw marks ran across the left side of her face, and there was a gaping hole where her eye once sat. The damage done to her underbelly was not as severe as he thought it would be, thank the gods.

A lump had formed in his throat. The corner of his lips pulled down, shaking as he tried to stop the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry.”

The silver dragon trilled, carefully nuzzling the tip of her snout against his stomach.

“You did well,” he praised, caressing her face. “Thank you.”

He pulled away, moving around her. Aerys found Sunfyre curled up on his side, grumbling in pain. He approached slowly, not wanting to frighten him. The golden dragon did not seem to care for his efforts.

Sunfrye growled, baring his teeth, but the dragon could not raise his head. Aerys held his left hand up in surrender.

“I’m here to help him.”

The golden dragon snarled at him.

“Please,” he pleaded.

Agana crawled behind the wounded dragon, resting her head against his own. She released a loud hum from her chest, almost like a pur. The sound seemed to calm him. His growling ceased, and he retracted his teeth. Aerys approached him, carefully climbing over the dragon's tail. Sunfyre had curled himself around Aegon, still trying his best to defend his rider. 

Aerys gasped when he saw the state of Aegon—his body, battered and burned. Aerys inched closer. His knees wobbled, and his terror mounted with every step. Aegon was lying still on his back. His violet eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids. 

Aerys fell to his knees, his eyes trailing over the man’s wounds. His stomach clenched, dread twisted in his gut.

“Aegon?” He called, his voice thick with fear.

But Aegon did not move, and he did not make a sound. The armor he wore seemed to have melted into his flesh. 

Agana growled, raising her head. Aerys snapped his head to the side, watching Aemond march towards them, wielding Blackfyre. There was something in the man’s gaze, something dark. He was uncertain as to what the man’s intentions were. Aerys did his best to shield Aegon’s body with his own despite his injured shoulder. He was not afraid of him. Aemond would be a fool if he tried to harm either one of them in the presence of their dragons.

As he approached, Agana snarled at the man. Aemond’s eye flickered up to Agana before looking back to Aerys. Just as he raised the blade, a voice called out.

It was Ser Criston. Aerys shot Aemond one last glare. He turned around, focusing his attention back on Aegon. 

“I choose you, Aegon,” Aerys whispered, his bottom lip trembling. “I choose you.”

Tags: @saicherry, @sadpuffpuff, @willow-red, @teamavatar13

[yujo-nishimura]

Red Hair or Red Nose? - Part 7 - Final Part

Warning: NSFW - Minors do not interact, this part is for 18+. Apologies for the spelling mistakes/English grammar mistakes - English is not my native language. Writing this was quite difficult since I am asexual/demisexual and writing about men's sexuality was a real fascinating challenge.

This is the second part of the threesome, I will conclude this story after this part and go back to the Captive story (since we always need more Buggy content ;)). Thanks for all the support and as always -

Enjoy reading!

You find yourself taken aback and filled with awe as you witness the transformation in these two men who have always seemed locked in a competition and heated quarrels. The sight before you is a revelation—a serene calmness and unity that surpasses any previous animosity - when it comes to sharing you and your body they seem to work like the perfect team. 

Buggy is standing now in front of you, his hard cock pressing against your wet folds, just where Shanks had left off he immediately continues to spread your legs and enters you. Unlike Shanks, he is quick and rough, he does not wait for you to get used to his size, he just takes what he needs.

“Oh Buggy..!” you mewl, trying to reach for him, but it is Shanks, who is grabbing your hand, holding you gently. He is slowly guiding your left hand to his throbbing cock, letting you work on him while Buggy is pumping into you. You are biting your lips, throwing your head back again, you feel so good, you didn't know you could feel that good. You know Shanks is watching and the arousal you feel by being watched is beyond your belief. He starts to groan, seeing the clown pirate inside you seems to really turn him on.  Buggy enjoys that he has you for himself now, his hips relentlessly pushing into yours, he smothers you in kisses, something you did not expect - he is possessive and wants to show Shanks that he is able to make you feel good. Buggy increases his speed, hitting your sweetest spot and you can feel you are close to come on his dick. 

“Come for me, show me that I am the one you need to feel good…!” 

He groans in your ear and you slowly gaze to your side - Shanks wears a knowing smile, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. It becomes clear to you that he is willing to let Buggy take the lead, conceding to Buggy's desire to claim the position of number one. In this moment, Shanks demonstrates a rare sense of selflessness and you feel deeply attracted to him. He knows Buggys childish desire to win and he gives in. But you have no time to think about your feelings, as the pirate clown is clenching his teeth, holding your hips tight and lifting your legs higher to reach his climax.

As he moans your name and spills his seed inside of you, you also reach your second orgasm, with an unknown intensity and deep affection for the man who just claimed you as his own. His makeup bears slight smudges from the perspiration glistening on his skin, he leans over you panting heavily. In this moment, he appears so remarkably handsome, radiating a captivating charm that draws you in. His eyes, filled with an intensity that seems to penetrate your very being, peer into the depths of your heart and soul, forging a connection that feels exhilarating. You still feel his cock twitching against your pussy walls and you wish he would never let go of you. 

The profound appreciation that had welled up for Shanks is now mirrored in your feelings towards Buggy. You feel confused, exhilarated, tired - your legs are shaking from the rough treatment. 

Shanks, most likely aroused by seeing the both of you coming and with the help of your hand hisses and groans. Not holding back he is shooting his load on your hand.  Buggy takes a step back to not get hit, this somehow makes you chuckle as you carefully lick your hand to get a good taste of the red-haired pirate. You let out a final long sigh and close your eyes for a moment. The knowledge that you are the recipient of their devotion and adoration brings a profound sense of fulfillment and contentment.

An awkward silence envelops the three of you now as you hastily gather your scattered clothes, trying to conceal your exposed bodies. In this moment of quiet, it is Shanks who takes notice of your shaken state and the weariness that likely lingers from the rough treatment.

As you struggle to regain your composure, Shanks steps forward, his concern breaking the silence, his voice laced with compassion. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes reflecting his genuine worry. 

“Thanks, I am good.”, you smile and you feel again this deep affection towards both of them, you feel thankful for the moment you have shared and you try to smile at Buggy as well. You feel the need to reward the both of them, not only for making you cum twice but for being such a good team. 

Buggy approaches you now, taking his white glove, gently wiping away the smeared makeup from your face, an intimate gesture that serves as a testament to his own ability to rival Shanks' kindness.

"I've never witnessed such unity between the two of you before," you express, your voice filled with a mix of surprise and wonder. "I never knew that you both had the capability to set aside your differences and simply... not fight and just..."

“..just fuck.” Shanks laughs. 

“Well, but I was the one who made you cum, sweetheart. So I guess it's going to be a night on the ship of the Buggy pirates for you…!” The clown chuckles, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. Shanks knowingly smiles at the both of you and you smile back at him. 

"If I'm to be a Buggy pirate tonight, then I want to wake up as a red-haired pirate tomorrow," you declare, your words tinged with a sense of teasing and honesty. You hold on to each other as you slowly walk down to the harbor, guided by the gentle glow of the moon illuminating your path. 

[ikbitchssss]

Dad!Negan And GN!Kid!Reader Fic

Summary: After nine years of not seeing your father your mind really goes places.

Set in S10 after Ricks “dead”

Notes: I might make a Part 2 but I really struggled with how to write this ending. So I’m leaving it like go I did for a reason! This is a request from @rlking27 I hope I did it justice! (Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I am very dyslexic so I tend to make mistakes😞)

Follow my Main account: @idkbishsss

(Also follow a TWD discord server blog I run @theunenjoyabledungeon)

No Ships and Reader is Gender Neutral!

Your POV

Nine years. Nine whole years since you last saw your father, Negan. You weren’t meant to call him that anymore but you couldn’t help it. He was your father to you.

He found you when you were young. 11 or 12 maybe, you didn’t remember the years that well anymore. But he took care of you, treated you like his own kid. Never once did he act like you weren’t his real child. He took care of you, he loved you. 

Michonne made you stay at Hilltop. Told Maggie and the others to never let you go away from Hilltop. To stay there, and away from Negan. Maggie wasn’t here anymore, she went off somewhere. But a few people kept you there. And with Daryl staying at Hilltop, and his small understanding of your situation. He made sure to not let you go out of the walls alone. Always with him or someone else. He, along with everyone else, didn’t want you to go back to Negan.

You didn’t know how to feel about not seeing him, or him just being locked up in general. People had told you about him. His murder, the pain he caused. Hell, some people looked at you as if it was your fault. Others looked at you as if you were a victim, an innocent child wrapped up in lies and hidden from the world. Weak and pathetic. Nearly twisted into him. People acted like you should be thankful for Rick and his people. You didn’t know if you should. Or if you should hate them for ripping you from home.

Were they your heros or the people who tore your father away from you?

You never really believed he was evil. Or at least not as evil as everyone said. He showed you the most amount of kindness anyone ever had in years. Well, the people here tried. But they couldn’t replace him. Ever. 

You believed he could be good, that he’d be better. People would yell at you, others would look at you with a pitiful look. Almost sorry for how hopeful you were.

It was your father though. What were you meant to think? To give up all hope was not an option. Even if you could never see him. Even if the rumors spread of him being weak and probably close to dead.

You knew what happened to Rick, but you had some hope that Michonne and Arron would make sure Negan lived. It was what Rick wanted from the little you knew of the man before his death. You didn’t understand why, but it just added to your hope. If Rick was that kind, to let him live, even though he saw Negan as a villain? You had to hope that others thought the same.

.

3rd Person POV

Negan was tired. Really tired. He didn’t get any sleep last night, and Gabriel forgot to give him a meal. He already gave him a big breakfast and a long apology. 

Which he was tired of as well. He understood that Gabriel had to do his whole ‘I respect you’ thing, but Negan could just feel the bullshit seeping out of him.

But Negan was also tired of other things. Like not seeing his kid. His child. He loved them. They were his world. He’d take the whole world down for them, he’d protect and love them, and he did. He did all of that. Until it was torn out of his hands like it was nothing.

Y/N was his kid. Hell, still is his kid. His child, his everything. And he missed them like hell. It’s all he thought about. He begged Gabriel to see them but he was always met with a big no.

They didn’t want him to corrupt them. Fill them with murderous thoughts and violent intent. 

He’s heard that they are doing alright. That they are smart and good at working with people. But he missed them, he wanted to see them then just hear about them.

It enraged him. That he couldn’t see his own child. He was so mad that he was just tired. Restless. He couldn’t sleep, ever. His thoughts raced about what could happen to them without him, about if people lied about him, about if they hated him. 

So when Gabriel left the cell door open. He knew where he was off to. Hilltop, immediately. To find his kid.

.

Your POV

You were working in the garden in Hilltop just outside the walls. Making small conversation with Paul, or Jesus, as everyone else called him. You liked calling him Paul. He always made easy easy conversations. Never bugged you about Negan and all that stuff.

You’d looked away for a few seconds when you heard a loud yelp behind you. It came from Paul You glanced behind you and was confused that he was suddenly missing. Almost like, he disappeared into thin air.

“Paul? You alright?” You whispered and walked over to where he once stood. You took your shovel and spinned it around so you could wack someone if needed . You were ready to use it as a weapon if needed. Just as Paul showed you, just as your father showed you at some point.

You heard something behind you but didn’t turn around fast enough before someone hugged you from behind. You screamed and dropped the shovel. You were dragged into the woods, away from the walls.

When your kidnapper let go about 40 minutes later, you spun around, ready to fight them. 

“Dad..” the word left your mouth before you could even understand it. He was okay, he was alive, he was well, healthy, alright. Thoughts ran through your head at a new speed you didn’t know was possible.

He just smiled at you, waiting for you to say something else, anything. 

You jumped into his arms with a hug. “Dad!” You cried out, ugly crying into his neck. “I missed you, you… you’re okay!” You were so happy you didn’t think to ask about Paul, or how Negan got out, or what he was planning to do.

“It’s been long. Too long.” He said as he laid his hand on your head, holding you there. You just felt home in his arms. 

[thepenguinweeb]

Hai! How you doing? I saw your valentine’s day event and may I ask for the ideal date option? If yes, could I ask for a date with Suzi Q with Reader. The date is just staying at home in a cold day and watching a movie together while cuddling and drinking hot chocolate, just something simple and very sweet and fluffy because I could treat Suzi Q better than Joseph (joke) as you can tell I really like Suzi and I believe she deserved more screen time and character development, thank ya and have a good morning! 🫶

[ Suzi Q x reader ]

[ What could be more peaceful than a quiet day in? Watching a romantic movie together, cuddling in bed and sharing warm drinks with your partner sounds perfect to you. ]

[ Requested by: anon !! <3 ]

[ A/N : Suzi Q !! I love the silly woman. So glad I have the chance to write for her. This is pretty short, I didn't sleep at all tonight so apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes lol ]

Ah, Valentine's Day. The one time you'd get to spend the entire day with your lover.

You'd been working for Lisa Lisa for a while now, and while the woman was very kind to you, the best part about it was obviously Suzi Q.

You and her started out as mere acquaintances, since both of you worked and lived in the same residence. But over time, you developed.. feelings, for the blonde. And soon (after a long talk with Lisa Lisa about how to confess your feelings), you became partners.

And now, you could enjoy the entire day, because you'd spend it with her.

It took shockingly little convincing for Lisa Lisa to let you and your girlfriend off for a day.

"Go have fun, you two. You should get to enjoy Valentine's Day."

She didn't have to say it twice!

Fresh snow covered the landscape outside the mansion. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring out the window absentmindedly. Your eyes followed a pair of crows, hopping on the ground and sharing a nut with each other.

Even the birds are celebrating, you thought with a smile.

What snapped you back to reality was the feeling of warm hands on you from behind, which soon covered your eyes.

"Guess who~" A sing-song voice called out, one you recognized instantly.

"Suzi!" You exclaimed. She giggled and let her hands wander down from your face to your shoulders. "Have you thought about what you'd like to do for Valentine's, love?" You asked.

"Yes, actually." You tapped the space next to you on the bed, and she sat down. "Well.. Lisa Lisa is not here. She's still out with Joseph and Caesar, so.." she put her hand on yours. "We have the mansion to ourselves."

"Ah.. we do?" You smiled. "That is wonderful."

She nodded. "I've made some hot chocolate for us. We could watch a movie, too- that is, if you'd like, of course."

You felt your lips curve into a smile as you listened to her. She was always so sweet, and caring. Every moment you spent with her, you were reminded why you fell for her.

"Suzi, I'd love to."

Soon enough, you were laying together in bed with fresh mugs of hot cocoa placed on the bedside table. The blonde rested her head on your chest as you gently stroked her hair. Her soft golden locks have always mesmerized you, but getting to comb your fingers through them just felt.. magical.

The movie had been on for about 10 minutes so far, but you hadn't been paying attention. Your focus was solely on your girlfriend, your partner, the love of your life.

"Oh, my love," you whispered, "how are you always so effortlessly enchanting?"

You didn't miss the way her cheeks heated up and became more red, even in the dim light. "Ah, darling.. you flatter me."

"Of course," you replied. "A woman as captivating and flawless as yourself deserves no less than endless devotion."

And you meant it, you really did. You cupped her cheek as you looked into her eyes and told her you loved her, and you always would, no matter what.

"I wouldn't dream of leaving you, Suzi. You are perfect. More than perfect, in fact. You are the woman of my dreams, and I plan to remind you of that every day, until I let out my final breath."

You've learned that she's not used to compliments. It's evident by how she hid her face behind a mug while she 'drank' some hot cocoa.

You chuckled and pulled her closer to you. After a moment she recovered and let herself relax in your arms, laying on your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

Maybe flirting can wait until after the movie is done.. maybe.

[averagemizukikinnie]

"I'm sorry I deceived you, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you."

TW: HUGE warning for SH (it’s what the fic evolves about pretty much) , ED implication, cursing

a/n: it’s my first time in writing for a pair, i apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes in advance since english isn’t my first language!! there are also more notes at the end. this fanfic can also be interpreted as platonic

“23, 24, 25…”

. . .

The bigger the number got, the more aggressive Mizuki became, and the deeper the slashes cut. They don’t remember how their abdomen looked when it was clear, all they can see now is red and brown lines over it, some are even white.

“Ahahaha… I’m really filthy and disgusting, aren’t I? I ate more than I’m supposed to when I was at the diner with Ena, Mafuyu, and Kanade. I made a promise to tell Ena the truth of what I’ve been keeping inside long ago, yet I still avoid the topic whenever it’s brought up being the coward I am. I’m surprised they didn’t leave just like everyone did…” . While they were indulging themself in their self-deprecating self-talk, they went in deeper than intended. It wasn’t really a problem anyways, their parents were out of the city for work, their sister lives overseas, no one could stop them from getting so engrossed in their own mind.

. . .

1 hour later

*doorbell rings*

“Mom and Dad aren’t supposed to be back until next Tuesday, who could it be?”. They panicked for a split second when they remembered they were supposed to have a sleepover with Ena tonight. “Good thing I finished cleaning up just a moment ago” they mumbled to themselves right before they put up their usual grin, when had they gotten so good at switching their expression? That is a question that they’re unsure of what a right answer for it could be. They felt the burning sensation of the clothes brushing against their stomach —but thankfully for them—, they were already used to it, so hiding it was a piece of cake, they already hide so much anyways.

“Yaho!~ Woah you arrived just 3 minutes late, that’s a new record!! Did poor lil’ bro have to shake the entire room to wake you up?”

“I knew this would happen.”

Ena muttered under her breath. “Can’t you just say a normal greeting for once whenever we both meet up alone?”

“Waaaaaahhh!! You’re so mean!~”

Mizuki fake-cried as they dramatically had the back of their hand on their forehead.

“Yeah yeah whatever. Anyways, can we just actually get inside?”

They finally settled in Mizuki’s room. Ena felt so fascinated by the aesthetic of the room, it felt so… Mizuki. She could tell they poured their heart in making it to their liking. It might not be obvious from first glance for others, but for Ena it is.

As Ena’s eyes were hovering around, she noticed the torso near the mirror with an unfinished project on it that seemed like it collected some dust, she found it a little strange since she had this idea Mizuki is the type of person to get absorbed into whatever project they’re working on if it’s related to their passions. Ena recalled some of Mizuki’s rambles about clothes making on Nightcord, she secretly adored these rambles even if she knew nothing about that side of fashion herself; because she can hear Mizuki being so passionate and full of joy. If she ever admits it out loud she will never hear the end of it thanks to Mizuki’s teasing.

“Oi~ Earth to Ena— Does the princess need to sleep already?~”

“Huh?! First of all, why the hell are you calling me that?? Second of all, is zoning out for just a single moment a sign of sleep deprivation now?? Ugh this is going to be a really long night.” Mizuki couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Ena’s reaction, her reactions are one of the reasons they tease her more than other people.

. . .

Later on, they both decided they will play on Mizuki’s gaming console. It was kept up in Mizuki’s closet, they haven’t used it for some while. They bought it back in those times as a way to distract themselves even further from reality. It was so up high, Mizuki was wondering how on Earth they got it there before.

“Ah! I’m finally getting a grasp of it!” , just when they said that, they lost balance and fell on their back.

Ena immediately rushed to Mizuki to check if they’re fine, and help them get up if needed.

“Are you alright?? Did you get hurt? Do you need help getting up?”

“It’s ok I didn’t get hurt! I’m totally fi-“

Right when they started to get up, one of the console’s controllers fell on their abdomen, right where the fresh, deep, red scars are.

“Again?? Seriously what’s up with its location? Anyways are you ok? Again did you get hu-“

As Ena was saying that, she saw a dark red spot forming on Mizuki’s white shirt. Her face turned white when she realized what it was, it was blood.

“Mizuki, can you let me open the shirt to see the wound and clean it? Please? It would be terrible if it gets infected…”

“… No.”

“Why?… It would be difficult for you to get up and clean it up all by yourself.”

“The reason is not important… I can handle th— SHIT—“

“Mizuki please let me see it. It’s clearly hurting badly-“

“As I said, I can handle this.”

“You’re obviously lying. Whether you allow it or not, I have to check the wound and how bad it is.”

Mizuki grabbed Ena’s wrists with all the force they could gather, Ena struggled for a bit as she was letting herself go from their grasp, thankfully, she eventually managed to do so thanks to Mizuki’s state.

Ena finally lifted up their shirt, and what she saw was horrifying to say the least. Her face got devoid of any traces of curiosity just now just for it all to be replaced with horror, as if she saw a ghost. She saw all the variations of red, brown, and white contrasting against Mizuki’s light skin color, how there was some skin peeling around some scars, and most importantly, how fresh some of them were.

On the other hand, Mizuki wanted to escape from Ena’s gaze on their body as fast as possible, she saw what they thought was the most disgusting, filthy, and deformed part of themselves they ever showed to her. They thought she was going to abandon them for good, just like many people did. Everything Mizuki did in order to preserve their bond with Ena, it all seemed useless and futile now, just like they feared.

What snapped Mizuki out of their thoughts was Ena’s shaky breathing, they thought that this is it, that there’s now another person on the mental list of people they lost because of something about Mizuki.

“What the FUCK is wrong with you?!”

“You’re so fucking disgusting.”

“I never imagined someone this filthy exists, but here you are.”

Mizuki can already feel the words coming, they embraced themselves for it, it’s a matter of few seconds before they actually hear them… Or so they thought.

“… For how long have you been doing this?… I might not be the best at comforting, but why didn’t you tell me sooner? I- I just- I wish I realized this sooner. I’m so sorry for not being the person you needed. You were going through such a hard time without me knowing about it… I just-“

Mizuki didn’t expect this would be her reaction, they thought it will be the last time they ever talk, they thought this was going to be the end.

“I *sob* I’m so sorry… I can’t believe *sob* I didn’t know about this sooner…”

Ena grabbed both of Mizuki’s hands and gently kissed them, she then proceeded to wrap her arms around them and pull them into a tight hug. Mizuki froze in their place because of how astonished they were, they never thought of such outcome, not just did Ena not give the type of reaction they thought they were going to get, not just did she sound genuinely concerned, but she was also apologizing for not knowing better?? They never even dared to try dreaming of this yet here it is being actual reality.

Slowly, Mizuki started to wrap their arms around Ena, and they could feel tears forming in their eyes as well, they kept it inside for so long yet they couldn’t bring themselves to say a word out of fear of their past repeating itself again, they didn’t want to lose yet another person they want to stay with.

“No… please don’t say that to yourself it isn’t your fault in the slightest… Please don’t cry…”

“How the hell am I supposed to NOT cry?? Seeing you in pain hurts me and this time and this time it affected you physically and *sob* and to make matters even worse I couldn’t help you because of how oblivious I am…”

“Ena please… It’s my fault for being such a coward and not saying anything… I don’t want to see you cry because of me…”

Ena’s expression turned to a determined one, with tears still in her eyes, her nose still red, and her cheeks still puffy. She cupped Mizuki’s cheeks with both her hands and wiped the tears with her thumbs and said

“Mizuki, don’t say this about yourself. You are not a coward for not telling me about your struggles, l know it can be hard to open up to someone, no matter who that someone is. But whenever you feel like you’re struggling again and are close to doing this to yourself, come to me instead okay? You don’t have to force yourself to tell me you’re so close to doing it, just come to me and start the conversation like you normally do. Please.”

This was Mizuki’s last straw. Before they knew it they started sobbing uncontrollably with Ena having a firm, right grip on them. They were feeling so many emotions, they were keeping it inside for so long, they were so scared of Ena leaving them because of this secret of theirs they deemed “ugly and filthy” , they were in so much pain, they had so much on their mind, and most importantly, they were happy the what-it’s in their mind didn’t come true.

They were happy Ena didn’t reject this part of them. They want to stay with her as long as they can, even if their time together isn’t meant to last much longer, they hope it is.

Note: i am not implying that sh scars are something scary in ena’s reaction, the reason i wrote her reaction that way is because i wanted to interpret that she’s horrified because it’s happening to Mizuki. I hope you understand i meant no harm in the way i wrote her reaction, i struggle with sh myself.

[nobodysdaydreams]

HILBERT PICKED ONE HECK OF A TIME TO DROP HIS TRAGIC BACKSTORY (or my reaction to Episodes 25-26 of Wolf359).

First off I would like to welcome any newcomers to my reactions, courtesy of my poll about Blessie's name, as well as my post about my unhinged yet, apparently shockingly plausible theory that Blessie was created with DNA from Reneé Minkowski.

You can click the links to view the posts, but in the meantime, I'm gonna get right to the reaction, because I've been studying all day, and want to reward myself with a little treat. Sorry for ranting so much about Blessie, but I find the character extremely compelling. I hope Blessie makes it to the end. He deserves it. If not, you best believe I’ll be writing some crack fic.

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts. Especially in this one because it is late, and I am tired.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell

Episode 25: Lame-O Superhero Origin Story

Oh right they are going to Hilbert for help. Bad idea. BAD IDEA.

Hilbert don't try to play therapist. You are NOT in the same boat. You treated him like a science experiment.

Also. This is the same voice actor talking to himself. Pretty incredible. Pure talent. Honestly.

And yeah Hilbert, don't shame him for working with Hera and Minkowski. It's called friendship, something YOU wouldn't understand.

"Ever met anyone who could get things done on their own" "only Lovelace"

...so NOT Cutter then? Hm. I wonder what Hilbert and others have helped Cutter with along the way then. And I wonder what it is about Isabel Lovelace that makes Hilbert so terrified.

Besides, you know, the huge bomb.

Lovelace. Lovelace. You need to be reasonable.

Yeah. HILBERT DOESN'T FEEL GUILT. It's creepy. "Latent, it can be controlled. I've made vast improvements since last round off full scale trials"

...

...

...

Hilbert.

Hilbert.

What happened the last round of trials?

"Command classified you as expendable and gave you exposure samples before I even knew your name"

Oh my gosh I hate Cutter and command so much. And Doug is NOT expendable. Would else is gonna make jokes to lighten the mood?

"They gave orders to terminate your life at Christmas"

^That line is so messed up. Especially since it's also his birthday! I love how hard they rub in how evil command is, like, this could not have waited 24 hours for their evil plans, they couldn't even have that decency, oh no, it had to be on Doug and Jesus's birthday when Minkowski had made them a nice dinner. There was no other way to do this.

They are the worst. They're the worst.

"I did not ask for this hand Eiffel, but I will play it through to the end. For your sake as much as mine."

Hilbert...what hand are you playing? Why do you want to "radically improve human life". And what does radically improve human life mean for you? Does he have a family member that's like...dying of cancer or severely disabled and he's doing this for them or something, because while that's very sad, it does not excuse murder.

"How did they go?" "Slowly..." Oh...huh. Hilbert kinda liked them, but killed them anyway. Why? Hilbert dude, what is your game here?

"What did all that niceness accomplish? You have chance to make a contribution to humanity?"

Hilbert. Two problems with your logic.

So far your contribution has been mostly murder of humanity, so unless that viruses ends up saving millions, you're not really proving your point. Your point only works if there is payoff, and right now, I am really not seeing it, you are MILES aways from Earth and all the people you plan to hypothetically save or sorry "improve" (geez the tmbs comparisons with that one)

Do you HONESTLY believe CUTTER, Mr. "I'll throw you off this building Rachel" is gonna use it for good? Really? You think you get out of this alive? You think you get what you want? You think anything good comes out of this? You're a fool.

EXACTLY! CALL HIM OUT DOUG.

"We can do better"

THERE IS NO WE HERE HILBERT YOU DON'T HAVE A VIRUS IN YOUR BLOODSTREAM. AT LEAST NOT THAT I KNOW OF.

Right! No consent! That's why it's wrong!

Hilbert: "I'm asking you now. At least believe that all I want is positive results".

...are they trying to make Hilbert sympathetic? Because he's still very misguided, and it's gonna take a lot.

Lovelace, Minkowski, you need to work together. There is a middle ground here. One that won't get everyone killed.

"Decima is my life's work but I don't like it." THEN WHY ARE YOU DOING IT.

HILBERT... sister? Why does she need antiradiation meds?

"Ah! Look Monitor! This conversation not productive!"

Hilbert. THIS IS THE ONLY DECENT THING YOU HAVE EVER SAID. But also me when I'm trying to avoid a conversation.

Olga. Nice name.

Aw she had cats.

Oh. He lost his other siblings to radiation poison. He doesn't even remember them.

...

Not that I feel bad for him. He's still an idiot.

When he was four? That's sad.

Huh. Looks like they both have families they'd rather forget. What happened to yours Doug?

Good question. What is his real name. Dmitri what now?

Yeah I wouldn't trust him either. But yeah, he does at least feel like a real person now. Yeah, maybe Doug will "come around". But you know what Hilbert? Maybe you will too. We'll see.

Oh we're getting Lovelace's backstory too I love this!

"Imagine losing him slowly, so he knows there's no hope. Do it four times."

Oh my. Yeah. That would break you.

And yeah: Minkowski DOES care about Lovelace. But we're forgetting the plant monster. Blessie matters too.

Oops. They fixed the ship. Well at least Lovelace trust them now.

More aggressively? What...no, please you guys have trust now, we do not need to pull out the knock out gas! This is a fragile situation. YOU ARE NOT THE ENEMY COMMAND IS. CUTTER IS.

Oh no. NO. NO NO NO NO NO.

DOUG!

HILBERT. I DO NOT FEEL BAD AT ALL. I DON'T CARE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR SISTER. YOU ARE MURDERING A MAN. YOU MURDERED SO MANY MEN. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT TO YOU HILBERT. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT.

...but something tells me it wasn't.

Episode 26: Do No Harm

Oh and this episode title. "Do no harm" yeah, they BETTER do no harm. Eiffel can't die now! It's the middle of season two! Not even a season finale! We never got to find out his big secret about his family.

Hilbert you have explaining to do. Lovelace has to recognize the symptoms. Okay it sounds like she's being helpful. This is good. Crisis brings people together.

They better save Eiffel.

Anti-viral agent? Yeah it better work. And Hilbert she does make a point. How can they trust you?

Lovelace please calm down. I know you lost people but EIFFEL IS DYING. Hera please watch her so she doesn't do anything rash.

Oh gosh these gasping sounds... good voice acting but geez...

Ah. So his immune system is reacting to something else, which consequently also leads to it attacking the virus? Then what is this "something else"?

Hera called him her best friend 🥺

Yeah Hera. Call her out...but also, that was a bit harsh. She lost everyone, and she just wants to help you too.

I also love that Hera is willing to acknowledge that Lovelace's plan leaves her behind, but is okay with it, because it will save Doug and Minkowski.

"No one should have to live through that" Hera knows because that's her life. "And you shouldn't do the same to anyone else" GOOD POINT HERA.

"Fear is the only language you listen to you" "you need a better dictionary" oh boy.

I guess they're not getting along anytime soon.

LUNG COLLAPSED?

That's very serious. Hilbert. This is your ONE shot at MAYBE getting any semblance of...well maybe not redemption arc but something.

Oh boy. What do you have to say Hera.

Yikes. Well Hilbert, now you have motivation. I hope you're thinking long and hard about this Hilbert.

INTERNAL BLEEDING?

GIVE HIM YOUR OWN BLOOD THEN.

Oh great they don't have the right blood.

...Lovelace? Please. LOVELACE.

WHAT IS HER BLOOD TYPE?

I don't even know my blood type I should look that up.

...unusual radiological signals from the star? What does that mean?

Hera. Lovelace. Please get along.

"Don't you dare say I don't care about you. I don't say it because I can't" Oh my goodness.

Oh dear someone hug her good lord. And you CAN be there for them. Right now. BY GIVING BLOOD RIGHT NOW.

"The dumbest person I've met, admittedly it's a small sample size" 😂

"Four other people on this station" WHAT ABOUT BLESSIE!

...does...does Blessie have the blood for the job?

YES LOVELACE HAS THE BLOOD FOR IT!

Doug is the one thing holding them together. Maybe they can move forward together from here.

Fair enough. Lovelace is not getting along with Hilbert, but "a man's life is at stake, that is above all else, on this we agree". Huh. Seems Hilbert's coming around. He was trying to kill them earlier. I guess talking about his sister struck a nerve. But I've still keep a gun on him. Just in case.

29%. Those are rough odds, but you don't have any other options so... oh. Doug doesn't want to leave her? 2.7 years left?

"Don't you want to go home?" oh please tell me they don't split up the team. Minkowski is gonna have to go back, she has a husband.

And uh. What happened. That was not a good sound.

Tell me Hilbert didn't open the door.

Tell me the aliens didn't show up.

WHAT.

Well that...is not supposed to happen. SHOCKWAVE?

ALIENS? TIME LOOP? PORTAL?

UGH... it's super late guys and I gotta get to bed, but MAN I hope I can listen to more soon. Thanks for reading!

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake One Shot: Party Planning

You and Jake are tasked with decorating the house for Sam’s surprise party. Problem is; you can’t stand each other. With tensions high, there’s only one way to fix that.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5,163

Warnings: 18+!!, smut, unprotected sex, slight edging, degradation, begging, dirty talk, oral f!receiving, fingering, cursing, light overstimulation, cream pie, and, of course, mediocre writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

Jake One Shot Masterpost

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Sam’s surprise party is tomorrow, and the rest of us are finally setting up last minute in Sam’s house. He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight, hopefully clueless as to what is conspiring in his own home. Jake and I, unfortunately, have been tasked with putting the decorations up.

“Okay, Danny and I are heading out to the grocery store for the party!” Josh yells from the front door, “You two behave!” He adds, leaving with Danny, the door slamming behind them.

We won’t, but not for the reason you’d think. I’ve always butted heads with Jake; we’re both stubborn, we both need to be in control, and he’s just the most irritating person I’ve ever met in my life.

Just as I’d expected, Jake is lounging on the recliner in Sam’s living room, definitely not putting up any decorations. He’s lazily strumming on an acoustic guitar that Sam keeps lying around, but never plays. “Really, Jake?” I let out a frustrated sigh, my hands resting on my hips.

“What?” He asks, playing stupid.

“You know what,” My voice grows irritated, “We’re supposed to finish setting up tonight, Jake. The party is tomorrow!”

“I did my job already,” He says with a nonchalant tone, not even looking at me. He’s mouthing quiet words as he plucks the guitar’s strings, carrying a familiar tune.

“Bringing the decorations doesn’t count,” I huff, stepping closer and grabbing the neck of the guitar, halting his strumming, “Come on, Jake, it’ll be quick.”

“Say ‘please’ then,” He replies, finally looking up at me from the chair.

“Okay, forget it,” No fucking way am I begging him to help me, “If you’re not going to help me, why are you still here?” I ask, releasing the guitar neck and stepping back, resuming my previous stance with my hands on my hips.

“What? I can’t enjoy your company?” He teases.

“Absolutely not.” I say, rolling my eyes. “We don’t ‘enjoy’ each other’s company.”

“I might.” He says while getting up from the recliner. He carefully sets the guitar back onto its stand next to the brick fireplace.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” My tone is dry and sarcastic.

“If you ask nicely, I might just help you.” He smirks, stepping closer to me.

“Forget it, Jake, just go.” My head tilts slightly when he gets closer, but I stand my ground regardless.

“Come on,” He pushes, nearly standing toe-to-toe with me now. “Say ‘please.’”

“No, Jake!” I yell, irritation causing the pitch of my voice to go higher, “Jesus, you are so– so– infuriating! You can’t just help set up for your little brother’s birthday party, can you?”

“Calm down, geez,” He chuckles and puts his hands up in defense, “You get so worked up over nothing.”

He can’t be serious. He started it! My right eye twitches slightly, and my heart rate begins to climb. I take a step back, “Whatever.” I scoff.

“You’re so easy to piss off,” He laughs. He fucking laughs.

“I- God, I can’t stand you,” A disbelieving laugh manages to escape me, “ I swear, it’s like your sole purpose on this planet is to get under my skin.” That makes him frown.

“And you don’t think you get under mine?” He asks and tilts his head to the side, his playful tone dissipating, overtaken by bitterness.

“No, I know I do,” I say, “But not on purpose.”

“Of course, it’s on purpose,” His voice grows a little louder, “Ever since you walked through our front door as Sam’s new friend, you’ve tried getting under my skin!”

“Me?! No, you!” My hand leaves my hip, my pointer finger poking his chest. When did he get closer? “You were rude to me the second I walked through that door!”

“Not true.” He states.

“Jake, you wouldn’t even talk to me!” I’m yelling now, my eyes wide with fury, “You acted like you hated me!”

“That’s not true,” He repeats himself, his brows furrowing as he shakes his head and stares at the ground.

“Then why? Why don’t you like me, Jake?!” I poke my finger harder into his chest.

“Because you drive me fucking crazy!” He yells, his eyes snapping up and holding mine. His outburst causes my eyes to widen further in surprise, and my mouth hangs open for a moment. I take a step back.

“You drive me crazier!” I yell back, scoffing. He’s quiet now.

Taking my finger off his chest, I take another step back, gaining some distance between us. I intend to leave the room, needing some space from him. Just as I turn away from him, I feel his hand grip my bicep, pulling me against his chest. Before I can open my mouth to say anything, his lips are on mine in a firm, angry kiss. A surprised, muffled yelp leaves my throat, and I yank myself off of him.

“Jake, what the fuck are you doing?!” I ask demandingly, my chest heaving from mixed emotions; anger, surprise, confusion, and– arousal.

“I don’t know,” He steps closer, and I don’t move back, “but I don’t care, either.” His grip is still on my upper arm, calloused fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He leans back in, his lips just ghosting over mine, his soft pants through parted lips cascading warm breaths on mine, “Is this okay?” He asks sincerely.

“Yes,” I rush out in a huff.

“Good,” He says before firmly planting his lips on mine. My eyes flutter close, and my arms desperately wrap around his neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss, releasing his previous hold on my arm. My lips move swiftly against his. The kiss is sloppy, hungry, and needy. His hands search every curve; my waist, my back, and my ass before coming up to rest on the sides of my face.

His tongue brushes against my lower lip, and I part my lips slightly, letting him invade my mouth. We both moan when the taste of our spit floods our senses. He tastes faintly of cigar smoke, and rum, the sensation shooting to my heating core.

Our breathing becomes heavy, the air shooting from our nostrils, refusing to break the kiss. Growing impatient, he gathers my lower lip between his teeth, sucking on it then tugging slightly. Needing to breathe, I pull away, resting my forehead on his. We’re both panting with our hands still on grasping at each other.

“Jake-” I begin to speak.

“I need to fuck you,” He cuts me off, his hands traveling from my face to my waist, pulling me so our hips are aligned. I let out a small gasp when I feel his erection pushing against my lower belly. My face flushes, rosy hues forming in my lower peripheral.

“We can’t–” I say, making him frown, “Not here.” I quickly add.

“Yes, here,” He urges.

“But what if–”

“They won’t.” He answers before I can ask my question.

“Okay,” I respond in a single breath, and he doesn’t wait a beat to quickly guide me to the couch behind me, opposite to the recliner. His lips are on mine again as he sits me down. He doesn’t sit down with me, however, because he gets down on his knees in front of me, in between my legs. I break our kiss, “What are you–”

“Take your shirt off,” He demands. Without thinking, my hands immediately fly to the bottom of my shirt, bunching the hem and pulling it over my body. I fling my shirt to the floor and watch as Jake’s pupils dilate. His gaze is fixed on my heaving chest, my bra still on.

Leaning forward, he cups both of my breasts, his face just centimeters away from them. I feel him press soft kisses along my cleavage and sucking on the curves of my breasts. My breath grows shaky when his tongue licks up from my breast to my neck, leaving a wet strip behind.

He gently blows on my neck, the cold trail of spit sending a chill down my spine. He’s leaving sloppy kisses along my collarbone, nipping in all the right places. Sweet moans tangle with heavy breaths when he sucks lightly on the base of my neck, being careful not to leave any visible marks.

Slowly, his kisses trail down from my neck to my breasts, and even lower, to my stomach. He stops above the waistband of my pants, his hands releasing from my breasts as he toys with the button of my jeans. I allow him to unbutton them, but he pulls the zipper down agonizingly slow.

His eyes become dark at the sight of my panties peeking through, his bottom lip catching in between his teeth. “Can I?” He asks, referring to taking my pants off.

When I nod, he wastes no time hooking his fingers into the hem of my jeans, yanking them down. I lift my hips to allow him to take them off, leaving me in my underwear and bra. His eyes slowly rake over my entire body; my chest rising and falling rapidly, my stomach clenching in anticipation, and my legs spread open in front of him.

Placing his hands on the tops of my knees, he leans forward, his head between my thighs, and places a kiss on my clothed cunt. A sharp gasp enters my lungs as my back slightly arches off the couch, a wave of heat rushing to my belly.

“So sensitive,” He says quietly to himself. He turns his head and presses soft kisses on my inner thigh, his teeth nibbling on the doughy flesh in between kisses. My knees twitch beside him, aching to close around his head. He smirks when he looks up at me; no doubt, extremely flushed, a panting mess, and eyebrows knitting together. One of his hands leaves my knee and hooks around the crotch of my underwear, pulling it to the side to expose my pussy. “And so wet.” He adds with amusement on his tongue.

A small whine is caught in my throat as I wait for him to do something— anything. His eyes leave mine when he leans back in, his tongue swiping a long, thorough lick up the slit of my cunt. His eyes roll slightly before closing, and he hums in satisfaction. He’s quick to lick again– an extended sigh passes my lips and descends over my chest.

“Jake,” I whisper his name, my eyelids fluttering at the sensation.

“You taste so good,” His response is muffled between my thighs, “Lift your legs for me.” I eagerly nod at his request, and his other hand leaves my knee, allowing me to pull my legs up to my chest, exposing more of myself to him. His free hand comes to rest on the back of my thigh, pinning me in place as his tongue pokes at my entrance. He looks up at me, watching as my face contorts to reflect my pleasure.

His eyes leave mine once more as he focuses on my needy cunt. He pushes his tongue deeper inside of me, his nose resting snugly against my aching clit. The action causes me to inhale a sharp gasp, his eyes flashing up and lips twitching with mischief.

He starts moving his head in a steady rhythm, each pump nudging his nose against my clit, making my pussy clench around his pointed tongue.

“Fuck, Jake, that feels so good,” I sigh, my eyes closing in pure bliss and my hands flying into his hair. He hums in response when I tug at the roots, encouraging his movements. In a swift movement, he pushes his tongue in as far as it’ll go, slightly shaking his head to nuzzle his nose onto my clit. “Fuck! I’m gonna come!” I cry out, my back arching off the couch.

With that, he pulls away, causing my eyes to shoot open to look at him with a pleased smirk on his face. His lips are a darker shade of pink, and they’re plump. My juices soak his chin and nose, the sight making my pussy clench around nothing. “Do you deserve it?” He asks.

“What?” I frown, a little confused.

“Do you deserve to come?” He clarifies.

“I don’t—” I try to collect my thoughts.

“Ask nicely,” He smirks, recalling his earlier words, “and I might just let you.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, huffing out a frustrated breath.

“Just say ‘please’” He smiles, pressing a kiss to my thigh, “Don’t you want it?”

“Yes,” I sigh, my eyelids fluttering close at his affection.

“Say it,” He continues peppering soft kisses on my inner thighs, alternating between the two. His eyes are fixed on my face, waiting for my response.

“Please, Jake,” I beg hesitantly, opening my eyes to look at him when I say, “Make me come.”

“Good girl,” He whispers, his attention drawing back to my center. He leans in, his mouth immediately on my clit, sucking harshly.

“God, yes,” I gasp, my back arching further off the couch, making my hips grind onto his mouth. They continue to move impulsively against his lips, creating constant friction. I feel the heat pooling in my lower belly, sending knowing pulses straight to my core. “More,” I silently beg.

The hand resting on the back of my thigh comes down to my entrance, and I feel a slight pressure. His index and middle fingers slide in easily, my walls immediately stretching to invite them in. Without missing a beat, he starts pumping his fingers slowly, curling them upward to brush against my G-spot. With the mixed feeling of the pulsing on my clit and his fingers fucking me, my climax is near the edge, waiting to be pushed over.

With my hands still in his hair, they pull him deeper into me, my hips still grinding against him. When I tug harder at his roots, he groans into me, the sensation sending vibrations straight to my clit.

“Fuck, yes, Jake!” I yell, a gasping, panting mess. The grinding of my hips stalls, my orgasm hitting me hard. The tightened coil in my stomach snaps, sending ripples of heat down my entire body. My body spasms, the waves of my climax causing my hips to jerk against his lips even more. Desperate cries leave my lips, my eyes closing and eyebrows scrunching at the final pulses of my release.

His fingers continue to move slowly inside of me, dragging out the remaining bits of my orgasm. He plants a lingering kiss on my swollen clit, pulling a quiet, tired yelp out of me. When he pulls away and removes his fingers, his lips shine with my release, and his fingers glisten.

“Taste it,” He suggests, his eyes watching my curious expression. He brings his fingers to my lips, resting his fingertips on my bottom lip. “Open.” He orders.

Reluctantly, I open my mouth slightly and allow him to push his fingers in. My release immediately floods my tastebuds, and his eyes intently watch for a reaction. When his fingers reach the back of my throat, he holds them there. “Suck.” He orders again, my eyes watering.

I do as he says and suck on his fingers. He pulls them out slightly and pushes them back in, the tips of his fingers resting on the very back of my tongue. I hum, trying to distract myself from the intrusion, and to keep myself from gagging.

When he finally pulls his fingers from my mouth, I try to suck in a breath, but his lips are immediately on mine when he kneels up from his position. I moan into his mouth when he pushes his tongue into mine, chasing the taste of myself on my tongue. When my tongue tangles with his, he groans, needy hands finding and gripping my waist. He turns me and lays me down so that I’m lying horizontally on the couch.

Our lips continue to move against each other with heavy breaths released from our noses. When he lays on top of me, he separates my legs, settling between them. I inhale a sharp breath when I feel his firm bulge press against my cunt, now covered by my underwear again.

His hips grind into me, causing his bulge to rub against my spread cunt. I let out a moan, but the kiss immediately swallows it. He keeps a steady rhythm, and continues to grind as we hungrily kiss each other; nipping and sucking at each other’s plump-kissed lips. The remaining feeling of my previous orgasm adds to the sensation, the overstimulation causing me to whimper.

“Just listen to you,” He whispers on my lips, “so sweet.” He mumbles, firmly grinding his hips again, causing me to swallow a loud gasp.

“Jake,” I whimper.

“Yes?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his lips, “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, please,” I shamelessly beg.

“Yeah?” He grinds again. “Is that what you want, baby?” Baby?

“Yes,” I desperately sigh.

“Since you asked so nicely,” He taunts. His grip on my waist tightens and he flips me around, causing me to rest on my stomach. His hand swats my ass, making me yelp in surprise. I feel his hands move from my waist to my hips, pulling upward so my ass is snug against his hips. I hear a quiet groan come from him, prompting me to look over my shoulder. His gaze is on my backside, his hands absentmindedly rubbing in circles over my hips and ass. “You look so fucking good like this.” He says, now looking at me.

“Please, Jake,” I beg, growing needier.

“I couldn’t get you to say please before,” He teases, “Now you can’t stop saying it.” A dark chuckle leaves his throat. He’s still fully clothed as he’s admiring me, who’s half-naked and trembling with want. Like he read my mind, he swiftly takes his shirt off over his head, presenting his attractive physique. His upper arm muscles flex with every movement, and his soft abs tighten as well. Unable to keep my eyes off of him, my bottom lip catches in between my teeth.

Struggling to reach behind me, I try to slip my underwear off my hips. Although, just as my fingers hook into the elastic waistband, his hands catch mine, stopping me. “Keep them on.”

“But–” I start.

He shushes me, guiding my hands to rest on either side of my head. His hands take their time returning to my hips, gliding over my shoulders, spine, and curves. In the process, he unclips my bra, the straps lying loosely on my shoulders.

The anticipation is killing me when I feel a finger pull my panties to the side, presenting my wet cunt to him. He lets out a heavy exhale, the breath cascading down my ass and arched back. His other hand leaves my hip, and he fumbles with the fly of his pants.

I watch as he unzips his jeans, and successfully unbuttons them with one hand. He hooks his thumb into the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down. I swear I feel my pupils dilate and my eyes darken when I see glimpses of his shaft. When he finally frees his cock and pulls his pants down to his knees, an involuntary groan escapes me in a needy breath.

His cock immediately springs upward without the confines of his boxers and jeans. Gripping his shaft, he lazily strokes it. I look at his face but his eyes are already on mine, his mouth slightly agape and eyebrows knitting in concentration. His bicep flexes with every stroke of his cock, and precum leaks out of the tip.

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby?” He asks sweetly, though I’m sure it’s insincere.

“Yes,” I rush out, “Please.”

“How bad do you need it?” He urges.

“So bad, Jake,” I whine, “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

“That’s fucking right,” He nudges his hips forward, his tip pressing against my entrance, “You do.” His strokes on his cock have stalled, and he’s now focusing on rubbing up and down my slit with his tip.

“Just fuck me, Jake,” I quietly cry out, “Please.”

“Poor thing,” He mocks. When his tip swipes to my entrance again, he pauses and lines his cock up with it. My hands clench the couch beneath me when he pushes his hips against me, his cock entering me slowly, inch by inch. I feel my walls stretch around him, the sensation causing me to breathe deeply. A groan of relief exits him when he fully sinks into me, the base of his shaft completely consumed by me. “So fucking wet. Feels so good.” He whispers to himself.

After a moment of staying still, he picks up a slow rhythm, sliding in and out of me thoroughly to allow myself to adjust. With every pump, there is less resistance, and eventually, he’s able to thrust into me with no problem. We’re both panting when he decides to pick up the pace, his hands finding and gripping my hips for leverage.

His hold on me is strong, his grip tightening with each pump, and the sound of his hips smacking against my ass fills the living room. A string of incoherent moans and curses leave my lips, and concentrated grunts catch in his throat.

“Faster, Jake,” I plead.

His pace picks up and the tip of his cock brushes in all the right places. My grip on the couch tightens with the force of his thrusts driving me deeper into the soft cushions. His speed is relentless, his balls slapping against my clit with every grinding force.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” My words come out in a chanting rhythm with the pitch of my voice growing high when my second climax threatens to snap in my core.

“Tell me how good this feels,” He says behind me, his voice straining.

“It feels so fucking good, Jake,” I cry.

“How do I make you feel?” He adds.

“So good,” I whine, “You make me feel so good, Jake.”

“So pathetic,” He mumbles, “begging and whining for me to fuck you.” His chuckle is sinister, “You’ll never be able to forget what it feels like when I fuck you.”

“Jake–”

“Shut up,” He grunts through bared teeth, one hand leaving my hip and pushing on the side of my head, making my head sink further into the couch cushions. “No more talking.”

He keeps his rapid pace, our skin sticking and slapping together. The sounds of him on me and the sounds of his rough grunts fill my ears, the sensation going straight to my gut.

“This will never be enough,” He’s rambling to himself, his disappointed tone carrying through steady pants, “I will always want more.”

His confusing words cause my eyes to drift back at him, his hand still pressing against the side of my face. His eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw hangs somewhat open; similar to what I’ve seen on stage when he plays. A rush of pleasure shoots to my cunt.

He removes his hand from the side of my face and returns to holding both of my hips. His thrusts are becoming sloppier, signaling that his release is soon. He desperately grips my hips, exhausted grunts brushing past his plump lips.

“I’ve dreamt of doing this for so long, baby,” He admits, “You have no idea.”

“Jake,” I say his name because it’s the only thing I can remember.

“It takes everything in me not to touch you,” He adds while panting, “It’s torture being around you.” I moan in response. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His confession weighs heavily on me, but I can’t collect any thoughts as my second climax is right on the edge, “Jake, I’m going to come,” My breath hitches, “Please.”

“Not yet,” He says and quickly pulls out of me. An exasperated groan exits me at the loss of contact.

“What?” I say through an irritated breath.

“I need to see it,” He clarifies, flipping me over onto my back, “I need to see you come on my cock.”

Watching intently and impatiently, he finally removes my underwear and bra, and my legs spread to urge him to reenter me. He discards the clothing, and rests his hands on either side of my head.

With my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms hooked around his neck, his cock pushes back inside of me and we both moan in relief. His thrusts are slow this time, his hips slightly rolling with each pass and pushing deeper inside of me.

“Faster, Jake,” I urge.

“No, baby,” He soothes, “Let me take my time, I’ve waited for so long.”

“Please, Jake,” I beg.

His hands come up to release my hold on his neck and he moves my arms to rest beside both sides of my head. Interlocking our fingers, he holds my hands and arms in my place. He looks down at me, scanning my features while maintaining his thorough pace. His hair falls to one side of his face, the tips of his strands tickling my cheek. He looks magnificent, causing my pussy to clench around him, earning a smirk from him.

My eyes hold his when I finally feel my second orgasm return, my legs tightening aroundhis waist. My hands clutch his as needy sighs escape my lungs. “I’m so close, Jake, please go faster,” I beg again, “Josh and Danny will be back any minute,” I add, hoping to persuade him.

“Who cares,” He smiles smugly, “Nothing is more important than this. How good I make you feel,” He thrusts hard, “How fucking wet you are,” Another thrust, “How sexy you look when you come.” A harder, deeper thrust.

His final push sends me over the edge, “Holy shit!” I gasp. My eyes close and my jaw opens, letting out loud cries.

“Eyes on me,” He begs through clenched teeth, “Let me see you.”

When I open my eyes, his gaze is already fixed on mine. My walls frantically flutter around him, squeezing his cock with each thrust. Then, I feel it. A strained groan gets caught in the back of Jake’s throat and his cock twitches inside of me. His eyes don’t leave mine, though, as we both ride out our orgasms.

His pupils are blown out, and his irises are just barely visible. I feel his hips stutter, spurts of his cum coating my walls. Just when I think he’s done, he resumes his deep thrusts, milking the rest of our orgasms out. I feel his cum gush around his shaft, leaking out of my entrance with each additional thrust.

The final waves of my orgasm cause me to spasm against him with sweet, quiet moans transitioning into tired sighs. His husky groans mix with deep breaths.

He releases my hands and leans back, causing my legs to unwrap themselves around him. His hands rest on my hips as he looks down, watching his cock slide into me, our fluids mixing and dripping out of me. “Fuck,” He whispers under his breath, “Just look at you. You’re such a mess, baby.”

A whimper holds in my throat when he pulls out, but just barely stops when his tip is still inside. When he pushes back in, the whimper leaves my throat, causing Jake to flash a smirk. He does this a few more times as his cock grows soft from his orgasm.

Finally, he pulls out of me, the loss of contact causing my walls to clench. He sits back on his heels, his eyes drifting down my entire body and watching as his cum leaks out of me. He leans down slightly, planting tender kisses on my bent knees.

“Let me clean you up,” He finally says, getting up from the couch. He pulls his boxers and pants up, disappearing to the nearest bathroom. When he returns, he has a wet paper towel, doused in warm water. He intently wipes up his cum from my entrance, trailing down to the couch where my ass rests.

“All done,” He says, getting back up and presumably discarding the used paper towel. When he returns, he grabs my hands and lifts me into a sitting position and sits across from me. Feeling awkward, I reach for my discarded shirt and pull it over my head.

He’s watching me like he’s waiting for me to say that I regret it. I don’t.

Sitting quietly, we both just stare at each other. “Jake-” I finally speak.

“Yeah?” His attention is already, and has always, been on me.

“I don’t think I want this to be a one time thing.” I admit, my gaze traveling down to my fidgeting hands.

“Hey,” He says softly, grabbing my attention, “Neither do I.” He reaches over and pulls me into his side, letting me rest my head on his shoulder, “I meant what I said. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Really?” I smile, looking up at him.

“Of course.” He kisses the top of my head. We fall silent for a moment.

“So,” I pause, “what now?” I ask.

Just as he’s about to answer, we hear the sound of keys jingling at the front door. We both look at each other, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. He scrambles to get off the couch and grabs his shirt as I rush to grab my underwear and pants, forcing them up my legs.

Jake crashes into the recliner, pulling his shirt over his head. Both of our hands fly to our hair as we try to smoothen out any kinks and knots.

We attempt to act nonchalant when Josh and Danny enter the living room, “You guys didn’t get anything done!” Josh says dramatically, looking around the undecorated room.

“Did you guys argue the entire time?” Danny asks, frowning, and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Yep, it's all his fault.” I say, my fingers coming up to my mouth to conceal a smile. Jake does the same as his eyes find mine.

“Well, we really need to get this stuff up, you guys,” Josh declares, “So, get up!” He orders when neither of us move from our seats.

Jake and I rush to stand up, trying to avoid each other while we walk to the kitchen to grab the decorations on the dining table. Danny is busy unloading the groceries into the fridge and doesn’t pay us any mind. We focus our attention on unpacking the decorations, our eyes occasionally glancing up at each other with guilty smirks pulling at our lips.

“Why is there a bra behind the couch?” Josh calls out to us.

Jake and I snap our heads up fully, looking at each other with agape jaws and wide eyes. Danny looks toward us, to the living room, and back to us. His eyes widen as well, and he begins to laugh. Fuck.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

This unfortunately is not my greatest work, so apologies if it’s lacking. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed!

Tags:

[sssm1l3]

(in ref to unasked 4 fanfic criticism) what happen bb ):

Thank you for asking! There was a person who was commenting on like...every single chapter of one of my TWD fics, and throughout there were positive things, and negative things they listed in the fic I don't mind, I have thick skin, but at the end, in the last comment they wrote, they mentioned my spelling. Putting a read more because this is long and ended up going slightly into more sensitive topics than I intended to originally. (Will forever be grateful for the anon that told me that Keep Reading existed, I love you, whoever you were.)

I have dyslexia and I use three spell check agents, as well as my boyfriend, to proofread before posting like 90% of the time, but of course, things slip through the cracks. Since I was very little, pretty much as soon as I learned to write, I didn't like when people commented on my spelling, because as much as I try to control it, I still can't help it most of the time. It fucks with me. So I replied, and I was mean with it, see image,

I never ask for concrit, because I get concrit from specific people that I trust to not absolutely crush my spirit, and also myself, as we all know, oneself is their harshest critic. There was a chance this is just what this person does, is give concrit on everything they read, so I reminded them of fandom rules, and to not give concrit unless asked. Again, I wasn't nice about it. The people who can get comments like the one I received and proceed as business as usual are braver and better than I. (Once more, I would not have engaged if they had not mentioned my spelling and grammar, I put at the start of everything I write, "Sorry for Grammar mistakes/spelling errors.", and they said there were so many errors, it gave them a headache! I was pissed off.) Part of their comment also mentioned that things in the story were, quote, "unrealistic" Whatever, again, I have thick skin but once I started going on the spelling, I didn't stop. In their response, they apologized and complimented my ability to craft the story even with the disability. They, however, did continue to insult how I handled sensitive topics in the story I wrote, which yes, I write sensitive topics all the time, and I mostly write them based off my own experiences, or a mish-mash of stories I've heard told around me, so being told they were unrealistic or poorly handled was irritating! When I told them this, they replied with this, (User cropped for obvious reasons)

So, completing pulling back any sort of "understanding" they had for my spelling errors, and any praise for this story, because I told them that just because they think they know how situations should work, doesn't mean they will work that way. This sort of ended up divulging into a petty argument that ended in them accusing me of having a rape fetish, to which I replied with "BAHAHAHA" Their comments on my story minus like....2 or 3 on different chapters were deleted either by themselves or by me, because I didn't want that ugliness on a story that I've been told by multiple people is a safe space. Thank you for asking anon! Have a great time!

[masterofalldumplings]

I did this! (Kind of)

I'm only telling the story in case it helps someone out there and also to say that college should be free. You want the world to be a better place? Then the answer is in free education.

Btw english is my second language and I didn't bother editing anything of what you're about to read so I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar/all writing errors you'll find ahead.

Anyway, the story begins with The Master Of All Dumplings (aka me)

I'm from Mexico, since kindergarten I've been in a private school... until 1 semester in college when I applied to the UNAM. For that process I paid like $1500 pesos ($80 US dollars) that money was to pay for the exam, my inscription once I got in, a cute pen I used for studying and the platform I used to study for the exam that also is from the UNAM.

This exam is like THE college exam of public higher education in my country. You can get up to 120 points, depending on the demand of what you want to study it's how hard you prepare, like if you want medicine then you want those 120 points and not one less.

I wanted International Relations because I was making a mistake (now I study Creative Writing) and thought that was the best option to make money and not starve as a writer.

Now up until this point I've been regarded as a failure, it was never said super out loud but after the sixth time a teacher tells you maybe you are not built for a higher education or for a school embodiment. Ngl, God really tested me and my ability to build a fucking spine with all the teachers aiming at the one thing I cared about: learning and becoming smart. Now, private education didn't give me what it had promised (a well rounded formation) so I started to look for knowledge in the books in my grandfather's library and basically had to teach myself what my friends were learning at school because I just found it harder than them to learn inside the classroom without disrupting the class (I for diagnosed with ADHD at like seven or six or smth like that)

So by the time I see my results from the entrance exam to the UNAM in International Relations I'm someone who cried not because she was going into her dream school, but out of disbelief because it was the first time in years when I had celebrated something academic and didn't feel inadequate.

I got in, I started classes during the pandemic. My classmates were mostly people who were studying their second or third degree, some even more.

College felt easy on that first semester, it was weird and it unnerved me. I was used to always worrying about my parents paying for my school, but now my tuition had gone from thousands of pesos to fifty cents (you can also pay a hundred and fifty pesos if you do it through an online bank transfer) and as I kept delivering coursework and kept getting high grades back it clicked that I was simply left to enjoy learning without the pressure of having to pay to sit and learn.

Eventually I changed schools, now I'm back in private education. There aren't a lot of options for Creative Writing and I'm studying in one of the good options but I know for a fact that my academic growth is stunted by the looming stress of tuition.

It's a common and agreed upon fact with all my friends that we would love to keep studying forever and ever, until the world ends or we die if it was free.

Paying for college is just adding another obstacle, one that weeds out people who can't access the materials, methods and conversations that exist within the academy. This way The Academy keeps setting the standard from its creepy overlord throne, one that carries a history stained in blood and colonialism in my country.

Private education allows for a system in which you can take away tools from people. Access to education is what gives us communities, which is also why students are encouraged to participate in clubs and extracurricular activities. A university is a space open to people who wish to read, analyse and learn.

But capitalism is the enemy of community and all that.

So yeah I'm going to finish my rant now because I'm actually in the process of some scholarship stuff ✌🏻 (which is how private education can be funded, fuck the Medicis but man do I always wish I could write my silly stuff for someone who just pays to surround themselves with random people who hyperfocus #bringbackmecenazgo

college should be free so that the first time you go can just not count. that's just to test the waters. you should be able to be like "well that was weird! okay now this time for real"

[foxymoxynoona]

I just read that ask about reading comprehension anon and yes I agree with you. Though common mistakes that I so often see in people nowadays are homophones, ex. "your" and "you're". It's like the most basic, how the heck do you not know the difference. I learned that in elementary school and English isn't my native nor first language (though it is my second language). I suck at writing and speaking and spelling B, but at least I double-check to a dictionary whenever I write in English to make sure I didn't misspell it.

Also I just want to say that, one of my favorite about your fics is your writing. I know it's not easy and I admire that about you as a "fanfic" writer to put that much effort. I find it pretty obvious when a writer just explicitly tells you everything compare to the ones who wants you to immerse yourself into the story to figure things out. I've read fics that kind of just dump words to it make look long, like... 5k+ words, but doesn't progress the story. Though I think they call it a filler, but I don't think a filler can be 5 chapters long (that should only be 1 chp, right?). I really wish I can tell some writers in this fandom to maybe read fics like yours as a research in writing, but I guess that's rude and offensive. To the very least I'd like to correct their typos, but not many accept that either. I hope one day I can write like you. I've once tried writing my own fanfic, but turns out it just looks nice in my head. Now I only read fics and draw my own story in my head from theirs. Like, I always fantasize my own story of your fic, especially lowlander and meadow. I apologize for the long ask.

TL;DR: your writing is amazing and I'd like you to know that. I'll always love your fics and will always come back to read them. Thank you for writing and sharing such good fics

I do put so much effort haha, possibly too much effort?? But to me fanfic writing isn't any different than any other writing I'd do, I'm still telling a story and engaging with characters and pushing to improve my skills!

I went to college for writing and found it icnredibly frustrating how bad basic grammar and spelling were for my peers. In workshops we'd spend all the time correcting mistakes like that instead of talking about the contents. I pushed my college to require a freshman seminar or first-year class on English but they never did, which felt like such a miss to me.

Filler chapters are interesting, I've learned how to "use" them. Sometimes you do need time to just pass in the story to get from point A to B, but if they aren't serving plot, they should be serving something else --I tend to use them for character or relationship building, or to give readers a break from a certain tone or theme, sometimes it's world building. I also tell myself to just get to the point, if I'm bored and feel like this bit is a waste of time, how can I expect readers to take the time? I think both of these approaches have improved my writing. I also don't need to add length haha I need to do the opposite, my stories are soooo long!

"I really wish I can tell some writers in this fandom to maybe read fics like yours as a research in writing, but I guess that's rude and offensive." This gave me a good laugh haha. I don't imagine any one would appreciate being told that but I am flattered, especially since I do approach my fanfics with as much effort as I would any other writing 😊

As for writing, I hope you continue to do it if it brings you joy. You don't need to worry about the output! In the first place, writing is a skill ilke any other and the more you do it, the better you get. But second of all, it's a closely guarded secret, but I think most of us never feel like what's on paper is as good as what was in our heads 😂 I certainly never have been fully satisfied but I decided to share anyway and I'm very glad I did!

Thank you for the long ask, it was a pleasure to read 🥰