#and i hope they see this and go drift over to follow these two wonderful individuals

[spacexdrago]

She's Just A Whore

Pairing: Aemond x Brothel!worker!reader

A/N: no description of reader

warning: Getting it on and Aegon being Aegon

Word Count: 521

Aemond always visited brothels at night, he thought if he goes at night, it would be hard to recognize him.

That's where he was right now, laying down, while you moan out of pleasure by riding him, you never knew why he always asked for you, you were you, and he was a prince. But, that was your job to satisfy people. Even though you two always talk after doing it, you stay wondering why stays.

But your mind drift back to his face, as he grabs your hips, flipping you over, and start thrusting into you fast and hard. He was groaning and grunting as he does it, while you were moaning shocked by the pleasure.

It was until, he let out one final groan as he release himself into you, before sliding out, laying down besides you, pulling you on to his chest, where you two caught your breath.

You stared at him as he breaths heavily, but when he caught you staring, you question him, "Why do you always choose me when you come here?" He was clearly surprise by your question, but he replied with a question, "What do you mean" "I mean, when you come here other girls throws themselves at you but you always come to me, why is that?"

Aemond, who was shocked by your boldness, decided to answer truly, "I come to you because I've take an liking towards you, I hate when I see other men come out of this room, I love it when you moan out of pleasure by me and not them. I see you less as a whore, and more of a person. I love y-" he stoped before he could say more, but you was shocked by his upcoming sentence, "Say it" as you climb to straddle him from moving, as he got the courage, he begin to continued, "I love yo-" before being cut off again as the doors is barged open.

It was Aemond brother, the king, with his fellow friend you think, you hurried to climb off of him before covering your self with the covers, while Aemond just sits up.

The king just laughs as he talks, "Aemond the fierce, you've come so far, yet you still lay with you're fir-" he stopped when he saw you, you wasn't Aemond first and he knew that, he continued, "Oh wait, this is a new one, did you fuck her like a hound" as he starts to bark. "Hard luck for your squire, though. As you can see this whore is occupied with my brother."

Meanwhile, Aemond was getting up, to stand on the bed. "You and your squire can have her, all she is, is a whore."

After he said that you felt your heart ache, thinking all the stuff he said had to be fake. Aemond was walking the door, passing the kings squire and fellow friends, when the king said, "As he said she's just a whore, you guys go find another one for the squire, I'll have her."

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I hope you like it.

Don't forget to like and follow for more.

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[divinelyparkjimin]

— taste of you [m] | pjm.

◦ summary ↠ getting yourself off to your childhood friend’s sexual escapades was definitely not on your radar, but seems like it should’ve been a long time ago.

◦ pairing ↠ jimin x reader

◦ word count ↠ 5.2k

◦ genre ↠ smut, fluff, angst-ish

◦ content warning(s) ↠ fuckboy!jimin, childhood friends to lovers, roommate au, suggestive/explicit content, dirty talk, thigh riding, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm, oral sex, fingering, vouyerism (?), masturbation, alcohol consumption

a/n: i put together another one for you guys! hope you enjoy <3

masterlist

Sitting on the couch in the living room, you held a book in your lap, though you hadn't turned a page in the past twenty minutes. The soft glow of the late morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm light on the cozy apartment. The space was a blend of both you and your roommate, Jimin’s, personalities: your collection of plants thriving in the corners, and Jimin's eclectic mix of posters and musical instruments scattered about. A framed photo of the two of you at your high school graduation hung on the wall, a reminder of the years you had shared.

Your eyes kept drifting to the hallway, waiting for the inevitable sound of Jimin's bedroom door opening. The apartment was unusually quiet this morning, the calm before the storm. Sure enough, the door creaked open, and you heard the soft, murmured goodbyes. A minute later, a petite, pretty brunette emerged, looking slightly disheveled but clearly satisfied. She glanced at you with a polite nod, her high heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the front door. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee.

Jimin followed shortly after, wearing his usual post-hookup grin. His dark hair was tousled, and his t-shirt was slightly wrinkled. There was a certain smugness in his stride that was both infuriating and oddly endearing. He stopped in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Another one, huh?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow as you set your book aside. "Didn't you have a girl over just last night? What’s going on, Jimin? Suddenly in heat after being a big ‘ol virgin in high school?"

Jimin chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Guess I'm making up for lost time," he said, flashing you a playful wink.

You shook your head, unable to keep the smirk off your face. "Never thought I'd see the day. The shy boy next door turned playboy extraordinaire. What happened to you?"

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "People change, you know."

As he sauntered into the kitchen, you followed, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. The kitchen was bright and airy, with sunlight streaming through the large windows. The small dining table where the two of you often shared meals was cluttered with the remnants of breakfast: an empty cereal bowl, a half-finished cup of coffee, and a plate with crumbs. Jimin moved to the coffee maker, his back muscles rippling under his shirt as he poured himself a cup.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he asked, turning to face you, his expression suddenly serious. "I mean, if it's bothering you, I can tone it down."

You forced a laugh, waving off his concern. "It's fine, Jimin. We're adults. You can do what you want."

But the truth was, it wasn’t fine. The more you tried to brush it off, the harder it became to ignore the growing tension inside you. Each night, as the sounds from his room filled the apartment, you found it increasingly difficult to sleep. The moans, the bed creaking, the unmistakable intimacy—it all sent a shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush and your heart race. You’d lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to push the images forming in your mind aside. But the curiosity and arousal were impossible to ignore. You started seeing Jimin in a way you never had before, wondering what it would be like to be one of those girls.

Mornings became a minefield of awkward encounters. You’d bump into his overnight guests in the kitchen, exchanging polite smiles and trying to mask your discomfort. Jimin, for his part, seemed oblivious to your internal struggle. He would flash you his usual bright smile, completely unaware of the turmoil he was causing within you.

One morning, as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the girl Jimin had brought home the night before. She was stunning, with perfect hair and a confident air that made you feel oddly inadequate. You wondered what Jimin saw in her, and whether he had ever looked at you the same way. The thought sent a pang of jealousy through you, but you quickly shoved it aside, forcing yourself to act normal.

This newfound awareness of Jimin’s sexual escapades was driving you crazy. You found yourself unable to concentrate on anything, your mind constantly drifting back to the sounds and sights that had become a part of your nightly routine. The more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feelings grew.

As the days passed, your curiosity began to flourish further and further towards lust, which it was already quite a lot of. You started paying more attention to Jimin, noticing the way his muscles flexed when he moved, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way his voice deepened when he spoke to his conquests. You were seeing him in a completely new light, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

That evening, after a particularly loud night of giggles and thumping from Jimin's room, you found yourself in the kitchen, brewing a pot of chamomile tea in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves. The door to Jimin’s room opened, and you heard soft footsteps approaching. You stiffened, your heart rate picking up as Jimin entered the kitchen, shirtless and looking annoyingly perfect despite the late hour.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

“Yeah, something like that,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He grinned, clearly oblivious to the turmoil he was causing. “Didn’t mean to keep you up,” he said, his tone teasing. “Or maybe I did,” he added with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, though a small part of you couldn't help but appreciate the sight of him. “You’re impossible, Jimin.”

He stepped closer, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him. “You know, if you ever need a distraction…” he started, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone.

Your breath hitched. “Don’t joke about that,” you said, more harshly than you intended.

He looked taken aback, his playful expression fading. “Hey, I was just kidding. Are you okay?”

You sighed, turning away to pour your tea. “I’m fine, Jimin. Just tired.”

But you weren’t fine. You were far from fine, a potent mix of jealousy and desire taking root within you. It was like your body had a mind of its own, going into heat anytime you’d cross paths with him.

It felt strange to you, considering this was the boy you’d grown up with for such a huge portion of your life. You’d been by his side when he was an ultra nerd, when he wouldn’t dare make a move on a single girl. You’d never imagined you could ever see him as more than that, but here you were.

“Jimin, can I ask you something?” You felt your heart skip a beat.

“Anything,” he replied, his expression soft.

“Why do you do it?” you asked, surprising even yourself with the question. “All the girls, I mean.”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just…easy, I guess. No strings, no complications.”

You looked at him, trying to keep your voice steady. “But isn’t it lonely? Doesn’t it make you feel empty?”

Jimin shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his face. “Not really. I’m just having fun, you know?”

Your chest tightened, but you kept your tone light. “You’re not as invincible as you think you are, you know. One day, you’re going to meet someone who makes you want to risk everything.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe, but I’m not worried about that right now. I’m just taking things as they come.”

You nodded, though your mind was far from at ease. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Jimin.”

He gave you a casual smile. “Thanks. And hey, don’t worry about me. I’m doing just fine.”

You forced a smile in return. “Yeah, I know. Just take care of yourself.”

And with that, you returned to your room, plunging onto the soft cotton sheets that covered your bed. The memory of his teasing words lingered in your mind. “You know, if you ever need a distraction…” His voice had dropped to a low, seductive tone, and though you’d laughed it off at the time, the suggestion had planted a seed in your mind.

Alone in the dim light of your room, your thoughts wandered back to Jimin. You couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him, the way your body reacted to his touch, his voice, his presence. You found yourself imagining what it would be like to take him up on his offer, to let him distract you in the most intimate way.

Your hand drifted down your body, your breath hitching as you let your fantasies take over. You imagined the feel of his strong, thick thighs under you, the way they would flex and shift as you rode them. The thought made your pulse quicken, and you let out a soft sigh, your fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

In your mind, you could see Jimin’s intense gaze, feel his hands on your hips, guiding you. The way his muscles would ripple under your touch, the low growl of his voice as he whispered your name. You imagined the way his thighs would feel beneath you, strong and steady, the friction igniting every nerve in your body.

Your breathing grew heavier, your movements more urgent as you lost yourself in the fantasy. The thought of being with Jimin, of feeling him in such an intimate way, sent waves of pleasure through you. You could almost hear his voice, feel his breath against your skin, the heat of his body enveloping you.

It wasn’t long before your fantasies reached their peak, your body trembling with release. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath, your mind still filled with images of Jimin. The intensity of your desire surprised you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to turn your fantasies into reality.

The next weekend, Jimin knocked on your bedroom door, poking his head in with a grin. “Hey, you got any plans tonight?”

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. “Not really. Why?”

“I’m heading to the club with some friends,” he said, stepping inside. “You should come with us.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You know I’m not into that scene, Jimin. I’m fine here.”

He walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge. “Come on, you’re always sitting at home. One night out won’t kill you. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You sighed, setting your book aside. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t know what to do there.”

Jimin smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just let loose for once. Dance, have a few drinks, and enjoy yourself. I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I’m really not sure. It’s not my thing.”

“Please,” he said, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes. “Do it for me? I hate seeing you cooped up all the time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his expression. “Alright, alright. I’ll go. But if it gets too much, I’m leaving.”

“Deal,” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you to your feet. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I better not.”

As you got ready, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Jimin was right—you rarely went out, and maybe it was time to change that. You put on a nice outfit, something that made you feel confident, and met Jimin in the living room.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling warmly at you.

“Ready,” you replied, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your stomach.

With Jimin by your side, you set out for the club, wondering what the night had in store.

The music was loud, the lights were dazzling, and the drinks were flowing. After a few shots, you felt more relaxed, the alcohol dulling your inhibitions. Jimin stayed close to you all night, dancing and laughing in a way that made you feel like you were the only two people in the room.

The club was packed, a sea of bodies moving to the throbbing bass that reverberated through the air. Flashing lights painted the room in hues of blue and red, creating an almost hypnotic atmosphere. You and Jimin had already downed a few shots, the alcohol buzzing warmly through your veins, making everything feel a little more vibrant and a lot less restrained.

You found yourselves on the dance floor, pressed close together by the throng of people. The music pounded around you, a sultry beat that seemed to dictate the movements of your bodies. Jimin's hands found your hips, pulling you against him, and you didn't resist. You’d never felt his touch in a way so intimate before. The feel of his body so close to yours was electrifying, and you let the music take over, swaying in perfect rhythm with him.

Jimin’s breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in to speak, his voice barely audible over the music. “You’re a really good dancer,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin.

You shivered, pressing closer to him. “So are you,” you replied, feeling bolder than usual. The alcohol had stripped away your inhibitions, leaving you more daring and less concerned about the consequences.

As the song changed to something even more sensual, Jimin's hands roamed a bit more, sliding up and down your sides, occasionally grazing the small of your back. Each touch sent a jolt through you, making your heart race. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, your bodies moving as one.

Your faces were inches apart now, and you could see the intensity in Jimin's eyes. There was something different about the way he looked at you tonight—something that made your pulse quicken and your breath hitch. His eyes flickered to your lips, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you right there on the dance floor.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with something you couldn’t quite identify—desire, perhaps, or something even deeper.

“Good,” you whispered back, the word escaping before you could think better of it.

The tension between you was palpable, a current that made every touch, every brush of skin against skin, feel like a spark. You weren’t sure how much longer you could stand it. The alcohol had dulled your fears but sharpened your desires, and all you wanted was to close the small gap between you and feel his lips on yours.

Jimin seemed to feel the same way. His grip on your waist tightened, and he leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “You wanna head back?” he suggested, his voice barely more than a breath. “It’s feeling a little stuffy in here.” You nodded, simply wanting to be alone with him. You quickly bid your friends goodbye, before taking off.

Jimin took your hand in his, leading you through the crowd and out of the club, the cool night air hitting you like a shock after the heat of the dance floor. The tension between you was still there, simmering just below the surface.

The ride home in the Uber had been a blur, the tension between you growing with each passing second. You both sat close, his leg pressed against yours, the occasional brush of his hand against your thigh sending sparks through your body. You exchanged lingering glances, the desire in his eyes reflecting your own.

Back at the apartment, the door had barely closed behind you before Jimin was on you again, his hands on your waist as he backed you against the wall. The electricity between you crackled in the air, making every nerve in your body stand on end.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice low and intense as he looked into your eyes.

You shivered, pressing closer to him. “I think I’m starting to get an idea,” you replied, breathless.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and hungry, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The kiss deepened, growing more intense as the pent-up tension between you finally found release. His hands roamed your body, sending shivers down your spine with every touch. You could feel the heat radiating off him, matching the fire that burned inside you.

Just as things were escalating, Jimin suddenly pulled back, breathing heavily. “I can’t do this,” he said, his voice strained.

You blinked, trying to process his words. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your heart sinking.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can do this with you.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, your heart sinking at his words as your throat grew tight. “You do this all the time. Why is it any different with me?”

Jimin sighed, looking tormented. “Because it’s not the same. It’s... it’s different.”

You felt a mix of anger and sadness rising. “Different how? Were you not liking it?”

“No, it’s not that,” he said quickly, reaching for your hand. “I just… really care about you. And I don’t want to just have a quick, meaningless hookup with you.”

His confession left you stunned. “What do you mean?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I thought sleeping around would make it easier to stop thinking about you, but it’s never felt right.” Jimin took a deep breath, his voice tinged with regret. “I can’t treat it like you’re just another girl because you’re not. I’ve always wanted it to be you, but I knew I didn’t really stand a chance.”

You felt a lump in your throat, tears welling in your eyes. “So you’ve been avoiding me because you care about me?”

He nodded, looking both vulnerable and relieved. “Yes. I know it sounds messed up, but I didn’t know how else to deal with it. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

You took a step closer, your heart pounding. “Jimin, I want you too. I know I said it didn’t bother me, but it’s honestly been driving me insane. I couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever you’d bring all the girls in, you know?”

His eyes widened with surprise and relief. “You did?”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of hope and longing. “Yes. I wanted you, Jimin. I still do.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken desire as you closed the gap between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that was filled with all the emotions you had kept bottled up. This time, it wasn’t just about lust—it was about love and longing, and the connection you both craved.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Jimin’s hands on your back, pulling you closer. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. You both knew what you wanted. Jimin slipped his firm hands beneath your thighs, lifting you up in a swift movement, keeping his lips connected to yours. You locked your legs around his torso, arms placed around his neck.

His lips felt perfect against your own, the pillowy feeling of them pulling you deeper into the moment. You gasped for air every now and then, but were not given much of a break before the two of you were at it again, more passionate than before. Your fingers traced along the back of his neck as you were buried in each other’s faces, occasionally gripping at his hair.

“F-Fuck Y/N, I’ve wanted this so bad,” Jimin croaked, heavy breaths escaping his lips.

“Trust me, I have too.” You chuckled, pecking his nose before going back into his lips. You found yourself sucking on his bottom lip and had each other’s tongues periodically crossing the barriers between the two of you.

Jimin placed his hands at your ass, as if for a better grip on you, before carrying you over to his bedroom. The journey there was a shaky one, as neither of you could seem to separate from basking in the feelings of one another. Upon arrival, he set you on his bed, before pulling off his shirt and crawling atop you.

Your eyes followed him with delight, staring up at him with doe eyes that he couldn’t help but grin at.

“God, you’re so cute.” Jimin’s hand rose up to touch your face, his large thumb swiping along your cheek. He pecked the same spot, sending shivers down your spine. He then leaned back, his eyes taking in your form with a mix of admiration and desire.

Slowly, you tugged at the hem of your own shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Jimin's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, and his hands quickly followed, exploring the newly exposed skin. His touch was both gentle and possessive, making your body arch into him with every caress.

Jimin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made you shiver. He nipped at your collarbone, eliciting a gasp from you as his hands roamed over your curves. You felt his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra, and within moments, it was discarded, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his lips finding their way to your breasts. He took his time, savoring each kiss and lick, driving you wild with need. Your hands roamed over his toned back, feeling his muscles flex beneath your touch as he continued his ministrations.

You couldn’t wait any longer. Your hands traveled down his torso, fingers tracing the lines of his abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. You fumbled with the button, your eagerness evident as you finally managed to undo it. Jimin chuckled softly, a sound filled with both amusement and anticipation.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased, but his voice was thick with desire. He helped you with the rest, quickly shedding his jeans and boxers. The sight of him, fully naked and aroused, sent a jolt of anticipation through you.

He leaned back down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hands made quick work of removing the last of your clothing. Now, with nothing between you, the heat of his body against yours was almost overwhelming. You could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, making your own arousal spike.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered. “I guess you really haven’t gotten any in a while.” A sly smirk appeared on his face as your face turned into a face of shock.

“Hey—!” you began, before you were cut off by his hand covering your mouth.

“Shh,” Jimin whispered, his eyes darkening with desire. “Let me take care of you.”

You moaned into his mouth as he pressed further against your g-spots. Your hips bucked against his hand as he worked you with skilled, deliberate movements. Every touch, every stroke, brought you closer to the edge. His fingers thrusted inside you, curling to hit that perfect spot that made your vision blur even harder.

Your moans grew louder, the sound filling the room as your body tensed, every muscle tightening in anticipation. Jimin’s other hand slid up your body, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

“Jimin, I’m so close,” you panted, your hips moving in time with his thrusts, chasing the climax that was just out of reach. He bit down gently on your earlobe, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“Come for me, baby. I want to feel you,” he growled.

The combination of his words, his touch, and the raw intensity in his eyes left you pooled with desperation. Your orgasm hit you with a force that left you breathless, your body convulsing around his fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as you rode out the climax.

Jimin didn’t stop, continuing to pump his fingers inside you, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him. When he finally pulled his hand away, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied smirk.

“God, you taste amazing,” he said, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at you. You were still catching your breath, your body humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Jimin,” you breathed, reaching up to pull him down into a kiss. Your tongues tangled together, the taste of yourself on his lips adding to the intimate connection between you.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Ready for more?” he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Always,” you whispered, your body already aching for his touch again.

It was not long before his lips were back in contact with your skin, trailing kisses down your body which left a scorching path from your neck to your navel. Every touch sent shivers through you, your skin tingling with anticipation. When he reached your thighs, he gently spread them apart, positioning himself between them.

“Jimin…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. The sight of him, his eyes locked onto yours with such intensity, made your heart race.

“I’ve always wondered what you’d taste like,” he murmured, his tone laced with eagerness. He leaned in closer, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation made you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place as he continued his exploration. His tongue moved with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through you. He sucked gently on your clit, making your head spin and your breath come in ragged gasps.

“Jimin, please,” you begged, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. The need for release was overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust and satisfaction. “Not yet, baby. I want to make you feel everything.”

As the intensity between you reached its peak, you felt a surge of boldness wash over you. Breaking away from the kiss, you looked up at Jimin with flushed cheeks and a determined gleam in your eyes.

"Jimin," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, "I want to ride your thigh."

His eyes widened in surprise, but a smirk quickly spread across his lips. "Hell yeah," he replied, his voice husky with seduction. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

You straddled his thigh, feeling the heat of his skin against yours as you positioned yourself just right. With a shaky breath, you began to move, your hips rolling against him in slow motions.

The friction was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body with each movement. Jimin's hands roamed your curves, guiding you as you found a rhythm that drove you both wild.

You threw your head back, letting out a low moan as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. Jimin's thigh provided the perfect amount of pressure, hitting all the right spots and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Despite the immense feelings of pleasure, it didn’t seem to be enough, so you wanted more.

“I need you, Jimin,” you breathed, barely able to form the words as pleasure clouded your mind.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Aligning himself with you, he slowly pushed his length inside you, filling you completely. The sensation was both intense and intimate, making you gasp as your bodies finally joined.

Jimin set a slow, steady pace, his movements deep. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, building steadily until you felt like you might burst. His lips never strayed far from yours, kissing you with a passion that matched the intensity of his movements. The familiar sound of his headboard banging against the wall filled the room as his thrusts grew rougher. It was a noise you were used to hearing from the other side of the wall, but were now able to experience for yourself.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the waves of pleasure. The rhythm between you was perfect, a dance of desire and emotion that brought you closer with every thrust.

“Jimin, I’m gonna—” you cried out, unable to hold back any longer.

“Do it, Y/N. Come,” he urged, his voice a low growl.

The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that left you trembling. Your vision blurred, your mind going blank as pleasure consumed you. Jimin continued to lap at you yet again, drawing out your climax until you were completely spent. Jimin held you close, his own release mingling with yours, the connection between you deeper than it had ever been.

Finally, he pulled away, crawling back up your body to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. As the waves of pleasure subsided, you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, your bodies still entwined. Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with contentment. In that moment, everything felt perfect, the years of friendship and unspoken desire finally culminating in something beautiful.

Jimin chuckled softly, breaking the silence. “So, does this mean we can make this a regular thing?”

You laughed, playfully swatting his chest. “Are you saying you can’t get enough of me already?”

“Pretty much,” he grinned. “I don’t I could ever get enough of this.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as they drifted down the length of your body.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Neither do I, Jimin.”

With that, you both settled into a comfortable silence, cuddled close, bare skin against bare skin. As the night grew quieter, the rhythm of your breathing began to sync, and you found yourselves drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

a/n: feel free to leave a comment or slip into my inbox to let me know what you think! feedback is always appreciated :>

masterlist

[sphireath-wisp]

Hihi!!! I was just wondering if you could do just little cute scenarios with sae, yoichi, and rin (gn! reader + all individual)

im sorry if this isn't as detailed as you wish but I'm just really craving tooth rotting fluff+ take your time (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Sypnosis: In the busy hustle and bustle of life, it's sometimes hard to find time to spend together. When there's time, what are the hobbies/little things both of you do together?

Warning: My readers are always morally grey in some way because it's more realistic to me, not proofread

Author's note: Thank you so much for reaching out and giving me this ask! I'll try my best to weave my story together to match your request. I owe my friend a good favour, so I hope you don't mind me adding her BL favourite here. Thank you so much for your understanding ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

Featuring: Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi, Rin Itoshi x GN! reader

SAE ITOSHI... finds himself most at ease during late-night drives with you in the passenger seat. The windows are down, you're sticking your head out of the car despite his multiple warnings, and he can't stop smiling. His free hand is reaching for you and tugging your shirt down, and his eyes drift to your pouting face in the rearview mirror.

Usually, his late-night drives together with you have no real destination. Acting purely on a whim, Sae always drives you wherever feels right. Sometimes, it's the port right by the beach. Other times, he's driving you to an empty parking lot. Today, he decides to let you have the privilege of choosing where to go.

And when you ultimately decide to go to a playground out of all places, he scoffs but does a U-turn without hesitation.

Is it currently 11 a.m. and does he have a schedule he almost-religiously follows? Yes, and he has a feeling that he won't have enough time to drink his salted kombucha tomorrow morning. Is he tired? Absolutely. Why would he do all of this when he knows damn well he has practice tomorrow?

Hell, he's asking himself that as he opens the car door for you and helps you out.

With a cheeky peck on Sae's cheek, you wash away his thoughts and he returns the favour with a kiss on your forehead. "Let's go get a new car, yeah?" Sae shuts the car door behind you. You're bewildered, to say the least, "I'll let you pick a design this time."

"Look! It's here, it's here!" Your boyfriend, YOICHI ISAGI, geeks out in the manga section of your local bookstore. "Oh yeah, didn't they release figures already? Season 2 is being released soon, right?"

His smile only grows wider when you nod. He's crouching down beside you as you tower over him, leaning down slightly to watch him stare at the various covers. Standing back up on his feet with two in hand, Isagi seems to have reached a slight dilemma.

"Ah... should I get the latest chapter? Or should I..." Oh, isn't that the romance manga you recommended to him? The main couple was cheesy, but it reminded you a lot of how your relationship with Isagi is. Turning your head away, you find yourself stifling a giggle - how cute.

After a moment of deep thought, Isagi sulks. His shoulders slump and he kneels back down, placing both the mangas back on their shelves. Like a defeated puppy, he crouches there for a moment in silence.

"What's up?"

"I can't decide, so it's better if I don't get one or else I'll spend the rest of the day regretting it," He's solemn, your heart clenches when he forces an awkward smile. It's not a big deal, but... "You can borrow my copy y'know, don't be shy."

He perks up. It's a simple gesture, but the simplest things in life have always pleased Isagi the most. With a bashful laugh, he picks out the manga he wanted - he can indulge a little, he decides. "Right, I'm sorry. You didn't need to see how let down I was over something so small." Honestly, Isagi's a little shy. It's only been a few months into the relationship. He wants to respect you and your boundaries.

"I'll get you something in return, thank you."

RIN ITOSHI yelps when he stumbles out of your bedroom to the dimly lit living room of your apartment, sucking back a hiss from the base of his throat when something jabs at his foot. His disappointment only grows when he lifts his foot to see the imprint of a Lego brick on the sole. "What do you think you're doing? At 1 in the morning?" The once groggy Rin Itoshi is now wide awake, meeting your avoidant gaze. As you continue to piece together your Lego set, you mumble, "...couldn't sleep. I usually don't have trouble, but I don't know what's up with me today."

Despite his reluctance, he walks over to you and plops onto the carpet beside you. "Aren't you a little too old for this?" Rin begins while mindlessly piecing bricks together. His back is against your shoulder, partially leaning his weight onto you.

You scoff once he grabs the manual. "You're one to talk," you retort as you pull apart Lego pieces, "In case you haven't realized it, you happen to be playing with my Lego set."

"In case you haven't realized it, I'm helping you, idiot," There's no real malice in his voice. He crosses his legs and straightens his spine, turning to gather the pieces in a pile and redo everything from scratch. You clearly seem to be struggling. He'll never admit it, but he doesn't like the aching gap in his chest when you're not in bed with him.

It's a good excuse in his head. He's simply helping you out so you'll return to his embrace as soon as possible. It's just that. He's totally not enjoying playing with Legos with you - he convinces himself mentally with starry eyes when you both finish the overwhelming set at 2:30 a.m.

"Phew! Now to take it apart!"

"Hell no."

Taglist: @mikmwehehe, @saexy (while you did archive your old account, you are technically still on my list!! Please tell me if you want to get removed and I'll do it asap)

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 7/12/23 (i'm late to this)

prompt: black eye

pairing/character(s): steddie

this is part 2, read part 1 here

-

"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."

Eddie's words bring about a lopsided smile to Steve's face, and then his eyes drift back to being closed. He doesn't look like he's asleep, but he's definitely not all there. Distantly, Eddie wonders what good shit they've got Steve on for him to not be sobbing in pain at every movement right now. His black eye is.. difficult to look at.

Once again, Eddie wonders what the fuck happened in the past forty eight hours. He turns to Buckley.

"What happened?" He asks, and Robin narrows her eyes and looks ready to attempt to interrogate him again, so he's quick to continue, "I- I know you have questions, but for now can you just accept that I'm here because I care about him?"

He hopes she ignores the way he's still absently rubbing his thumb in a back-and-forth motion over Steve's arm. Hopes that for now she can dismiss the casual intimacy, and not question why Eddie's one of Steve's emergency contacts. Not while Steve lacks the therewithal to make a decision about coming out or not.

Still looking suspicious, she nods once, and casts a glance to the other side of the room, where the two younger kids are sat together. Eddie follows her gaze to see the young girl is asleep, head resting on Dustin's arm, and Dustin has his eyes resolutely on the door, like he's waiting for a monster to burst through it. He doesn't look fully there.

"We were just finishing the closing duties at work and," Robin starts, and then pauses like she's going over the details in her head, "and there was a late shipment we had to put away in the freezers, but then a fire broke out and we got trapped."

Buckley is a lot of things, but a good liar isn't one of them. Even if she was a good liar, Eddie knows things that make that one sound implausible. Steve hasn't been missing for just one night. It's been two nights. What the fuck happened before the fire? And that's not even considering the logistics of Steve's injuries and how they happened.

"Don't bullshit me." Eddie says quietly, looking down at Steve again, "That makes no sense and you know it. Are you seriously telling me a fire give Steve a black eye and a concussion? These kids just happened to be there?"

His words have Robin looking incredibly nervous, and Dustin straightens a little where he's sat, looking to be actively listening for the first time since Eddie entered the room.

"You have to shut up, man. I don't know who you are, but it. Was. Just. A. Fire." Dustin says, eyes determined, but scared.

"I'm Eddie." Eddie pauses, considering a new possibility that frightens him even more than Steve's injuries, "Did you guys.. Did you get threatened? Whoever did this," he gestures at Steve's face, "are they making you stay quiet? I can help you. I know people."

Dustin sighs and goes back to watching the door, the frightened look in his eyes becoming something haunted. Robin bites her lip, and Steve cracks open his good eye to look at Eddie, tears welling up.

"They w're- Eds, you gotta j'st- leave it be." He tells him, and a tear slips out and down his face, no doubt causing the scratches on his face to sting.

"Stevie. Please. Who hurt you?" Eddie whispers, tears blurring his vision now as he truly takes in his boyfriend. He feels helpless, and he can't even provide comfort the way he wants to because it might not be safe. He doesn't know Robin, not truly. And he doesn't know the kids at all.

Steve makes the decision for him, lifting one shaking, weak hand to clumsily wipe away a tear that's escaped.

"'s okay, Teddy. L've you." He says, and Eddie hates himself a bit. Because Steve's trying to comfort him while he's laying in a hospital bed. Eddie raises his hand to cover Steve's where it still rests on his cheek, supporting and holding it there.

"I love you too." He whispers back after a harsh sniffle, and hears Robin beside him making a noise of understanding.

"Oh, you're his- right." She mumbles to herself, shooting Steve a look to which he gives her a slight smile of confirmation. Eddie raises his eyebrows at the implication. Steve had come out to her?

"Yeah. And if you have a problem with it, well. Like I said, I know people." He tells her, putting on his best bitchy smile as he slowly puts Steve's hand back to rest on the bed. He ignores Steve's noise of complaint to keep eye contact with Robin. He hopes he's being intimidating.

"No need for all that. I know Dorothy too." Robin replies, and Eddie just nods. Feels a bit of the fear inside him deflate.

And then Dustin asks a question, and the little girl at his side rouses from her sleep.

"Who the fuck's Dorothy?"

"Mutual friend." Robin answers, tone clipped.

"Okay. I don't know what I've just woken up to. Who's this wannabe-goth nerd?" The little girl asks, voice full of sass as she raises an eyebrow at Eddie.

How she went from dead asleep to awake-enough-to-roast-him in five seconds, Eddie doesn't know. He narrows his eyes at the insult anyway.

"Eddie Munson. Metalhead extraordinaire, for your information. And you? What's an eight year old doing here?"

"Erica Sinclair. And I'm eleven, you long haired freak."

Eddie gapes at her, and distantly hears Steve giggle. For now, cautiously, he thinks that maybe things will be okay. Eventually.

-

some people asked to be tagged or replied about wanting a part two so i'm tagging: @djohawke @imyelenasexual @y4r3luv @disrespectedgoatman @starxlark @f1inl3ey

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Heyy I saw ur post asking for asks and I absolutely love ur writing + I’ve had such bad Tim brainrot so I was wondering if you could write smt abt Tim just like gradually moving into the readers home and sort of like coparenting the readers cat

Tysm if you chose to write this 🙏🏽🙏🏽

A/N: Yes I can absolutely write this for you nonny! I hope you don’t mind too much but i changed the cat to a dog because I am HORRIBLY allergic to cats and if I have to suffer my readers also must. In actuality tho I just have spent very little time around them over the years and have no clue how to realistically write owning a cat.

Tim Drake x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Reader is described as wearing makeup, canon typical injuries (Tim gets hurt on patrol), reader is described as taking care of Tim’s injuries, reader has a period, reader gets sick from her period, brief description of throwing up, reader has very painful cramps, reader takes typical cramp relieving medication (ibuprofen)

————

You thanked who ever was up there that Tim and your dog got along the first time you introduced them. You hadn’t planned on doing it today, but Tim had arrived early and you weren’t going to make him wait outside simply because your dog might be territorial.

You stand nervously by Tim’s side as he reaches his hand down for your German Shepherd, Ares, to sniff carefully. He takes a few moments after smelling Tim to eye him warily before letting out a dramatic huff and retreating to his spot on the sofa to stare Tim down.

You give Tim a chaste kiss on the cheek in relief before retreating to your bedroom to finish getting ready, “Make yourself at home Tim, I’ll be ready in just a few minutes!” You call over your shoulder as you close your door.

After you had finished your makeup and threw your wallet and a few other necessities into your bag in a rush you exit your room and just before you can call out to Tim to let him know that you’re now ready you see him seated on the opposite side of the couch from Ares.

Well, maybe saying they got along was a bit of a lie. They weren’t truly getting along so much as Ares wasn’t trying to fight Tim, and was even letting him sit near him. A miracle for your reactive dog.

“Tim?” You call out gently, not wanting to break the moment too harshly. At the sound of your voice Ares gets up and runs to your side like you were returning from war. You lean down to scratch in-between his ears as Tim approaches you much more calmly, a gentle smile on his face.

“You look amazing babe.” He mummers softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently, Ares whining in contempt at your attention being stolen.

“You ready to go?” You prompt gently, at Tim’s nod you take his hand and lead him toward the door, Ares right on your heels, whining like you were committing a most horrible crime.

As you exit your apartment and nudge Ares’ snout inside from where he was trying to follow you, you’re taken aback when suddenly Tim reaches forward and gently pats Ares on the top of the head, mumbling a soft “I’ll bring her back soon buddy.”

To your shock Ares doesn’t seem to mind the gesture, and as you finally get your front door closed and move to leave your apartment building your mind keeps drifting back to the sweet interaction with one thought repeatedly popping up in your mind, “Is it to early to be thinking about marriage?”

————

You love Tim, it’s something that you had realized early on in your relationship, but you swear he’s going to send you to an early grave with the amount of stress he puts you through. Almost every night for the last two weeks he’d shown up on your fire escape battered and bruised beyond recognition. The first time he’d done it you had to put Ares in his crate and throw a blanket over it, scared he was going to try and attack Tim with how he was growling and putting his haunches up.

By tonight however he’s grown used to the nightly intrusions, as he contents himself with watching you patch Tim up from his spot on the couch. You’re standing between Tim’s spread legs as he sits on the couch in front of you, running your hands up and down his bare arms carefully, checking for any other injuries he might’ve not told you about but mainly reassuring yourself that he’s here, and he’s okay. This is the worst shape he’s ever come to you in and you have to be sure that you haven’t missed anything.

Seemingly reading your mind he softly mutters, “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands find your hips as you stand between his spread legs. You vaguely realize that he’s gazing up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. “I promise.” He whispers, leaning forward to bury his face in your stomach.

You run your fingers through his hair, trying your best to detangle it from his night of crime fighting. “You know I’ll always be here for you.” You begin, “But you have got to take better care of yourself.” You can’t help but gaze at the canvas of his ribs, pale skin mottled with shades of blue and black. His arms are covered in cuts, a number of which you had to stitch up. You hated how steady your hands were getting with that damned needle.

He lets out an ambiguous groan and tightens his hold on your hips, when he speaks you can barely hear him from where his mouth is pressed against your shirt. “‘M sorry.” He mummers.

You let out a sigh and tip your head back to stare at your ceiling as you tangle your hands in his hair. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You sigh softly. “Just careful.”

After a moment you gently pull him to stand and begin guiding him to your bedroom with a hand on his back, which he lets you do wordlessly. You move to your bed and begin gently pushing him to sit.

He lets you push him, offering no resistance as he turns himself to lean against your pillows, poorly concealing a wince as his stitches pull and scrape against the bed. You watch him with a concerned furrow in your brow. “One second.” You mummer, side-stepping Ares, who had silently followed you into your bedroom.

You move to your dresser and pull out a change of clothes for him. He had started to keep clothes at your apartment after several instances of him spending the night as Red Robin and not having any civvies on hand for the next morning.

Tim lets out a grunt of displeasure when he sees you have one of his t-shorts and a pair of shorts in hand. “What? You don’t like me in just my boxers?” He says with a smirk of his face that has no right being that attractive when you can’t do anything about it.

You let out a groan and throw them on top of your dresser reluctantly as you go to sit next to his reclined body. “I just don’t want you to get cold.” You mummer, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek.

“I’m not that fragile.” He says with a soft laugh, leaning into your touch eagerly.

You lay down next to him and drape your arm across his chest, being careful to avoid his injuries as he gingerly wraps one of his arms around your shoulders. “You’re not doing any work tomorrow night or the next.” You say bluntly as you gaze at his injuries, a firm look on his face.

Tim sighs and gets a vaguely guilty look on his face. “Babe I would if I could but Bruce-“

You sit up just enough to give him a firm glare, one that he knows better than to argue with. “If Bruce gives you shit for not going out and risking your life while seriously injured I’m kicking his fucking ass.” You practically growl, leaning forward slightly to get your point across.

Tim rolls his eyes and lets out a grating sigh as you lay back down against him. “I’d pay money to see you fight Bruce.” He mumbles tiredly.

“If he tries to make you go out tomorrow you’re getting your wish.” You say. The moment is cut-off however when Ares jumps up on your bed and curls over your feet, and much to your shock, Tim’s as well. When you turn to give him a surprised smile he is already dead asleep.

————

You can’t believe yourself, honestly you can’t. How the hell did you manage to get sick right before Tim was supposed to get back from his mission? You let out a soft whine as you finish puking your guts up and double check that the toilet flushes properly. You lean back slightly and attempt to orient yourself. You get your period every week and yet still you haven’t managed to master the art of not letting it beat your ass.

You look over at Ares’ soft whine, he’s seated himself at the bathroom door and is watching you carefully to make sure you’re okay. He only abandons his post at the sound of the window opening, loud barks and whines making his excitement clear to anyone who knows him. You curse yourself quietly as you force yourself to stand and grab your toothbrush from its spot next to Tim’s, quickly plopping a generous amount of toothpaste on it and shoving it in your mouth. You hope Ares distracts Tim long enough for you to attempt to hide the evidence of your monthly illness.

You quicken your movement at the sound of Tim calling your name. Spitting out your toothpaste and quickly rinsing out your mouth at the sound of him approaching. As he peers around the doorframe to gaze at you lift your arms and smother him in a hug which he eagerly returns. “I missed your pretty boy.” You say blearily as you run your hands over his shoulders and down his back, checking him over for injuries.

He lets out a soft, tired laugh against your neck at the nickname, his muscles slowly but surely relaxing at the feeling of you finally with him again. You squeeze him around his middle gently, being mindful of any potential injuries as Ares lets out a whine at being ignored and swats Tim’s armor covered leg with his paw. Tim huffs out a laugh and pulls back from you, crouching down to Ares’ height and letting him lick his face where his domino mask was a moment prior.

You watch the scene affectionately when suddenly you feel a drop in your stomach, you rub your hand over your uterus to try and ignore the feeling but a moment later you’re gripping the sink in pain and letting out a low groan. Tim stands up quickly, his hands finding your shoulders and straightening you up just enough for him to look you over.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He asks you quickly. You move the hand you were gripping the sink with to wave him off dismissively only to be shown that was a stupid idea when your cramps double in intensity and you nearly fall to the ground in pain, only held up by Tim desperately grabbing you by the armpits and lifting you into a bridal hold.

He moves you so quickly you barely have time to register what’s happening before he is lowering you down on your bed, running a hand over your forehead soothingly to clear any hairs that were sticking due to sweat. “Have you taken any medicine for it yet?” He asks in a soothing mummer.

When you give him a confused glance through the pain he offers you an explanation despite the slight pink now tinting his cheeks. “You were due for your period, and you were brushing your teeth when I arrived which indicates you threw up which is typical for you on the first day of your period. Plus you sent Ares to come greet me instead of doing so yourself.” At the sound of his name Ares invites himself onto your bed, lying over your legs and resting his head over your uterus defensively. You and Tim both instinctively move to scratch in-between his ears.

“So uh-“ Tim clears his throat. “Should I go get you some ibuprofen?” He asks meekly.

You grab his hand a place a reassuring kiss to the back of it. “Would you please baby?” You soothe.

Tim gives you a firm nod and moves to do so, Ares lets out a soft whine when Tim leaves the room but doesn’t move from his spot on you. Tim returns a moment later, a bottle of ibuprofen in one hand and a glass of water in his other. He sets both on your nightstand before carefully counting out your desired amount of ibuprofen, handing it to you, and carefully tipping a mouthful of water into your mouth once you go to swallow them.

“Thank you.” You say as you attempt to relax against your bed. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” Tim quips, smirking at you as you roll your eyes playfully, he leans forward to press a kiss to the center of your forehead. He lingers a moment before pulling back to look at you, at the lack of eye-contact he hesitates a moment before asking, “What’s wrong baby? Are you in pain?”

You shift uncomfortably for a moment, causing Ares to grumble, before muttering out, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”

Tim balks at your words and grabs both of your hands securely, shuffling closer from where he was sitting by your reclined form to press your forms together gingerly. “Don’t say that baby,” he soothes “I’ll always take care of you.”

You shake your head softly, trying to suppress the tears you feel coming to your eyes. “Wanted to take care of you.” You mutter, avoiding his concerned look, “I was so excited for you to get back.”

Tim holds your face and gently wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “You always take care of me baby, it’s the least I can do to take care of you once in a while.” He all but whispers, pressing your foreheads together.

Suddenly Ares is also attempting to press his face against yours, nosing his way in front of Tim’s and licking your face eagerly, causing you to giggle and Tim to let out an offended sound at his spot being stolen.

“See?” Tim says after a moment of Ares’ enthused licking. “Even Ares wants to take care of you.”

You shake your head with a soft sigh as Ares finally calms down, moving to protect your feet and let Tim take over soothing you once more. “My boys.” You mutter gently, giving Tim an affectionate look.

“All yours.” Tim confirms, moving forward to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Always.”

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Part 5: Wherever You Take Me

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The cookout gets hot and dinner with Sy is a revelation. Plus, you get to see his place. 😏

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Fluff, Angst, Reader has PCOS, talk of infertility, talk of war, daydreaming about shower sex, anal play, natural hairstyles, clothes kink if you squint, voice/dirty talk kink, Graphic depiciton of sex. Woman on top, size kink, slight choking, squirting, nipple play, begging, raw p in v, copious amounts of cum. I did not mean to disparage yoga in any way.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the fifth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

———-

To say Sy had you shook was an understatement. You woke up expecting to find him there, but then you remembered saying a groggy ‘goodbye’ to him almost as soon as you hit the bed after the workout he gave you in the shower. 

You lay in bed as your anxiety spiked and wondered if he took that as a dismissal. You hoped that he didn't think that you didn’t want him around. But you didn’t want him to think that you were going to just fall into his arms.

You just didn’t know what to do with these old/new crazy feelings for Sy. How well did you really know him? You knew the kid from 20 years ago, but he broke your heart. How careful would grown ass man Sy be with your love? And would he still want you if he knew the entire truth?

You decided to relax and stretch and clear your mind of all the clutter. Yes, yoga was the perfect antidote to Jacob Syverson.

—---

Yoga failed you miserably.

You found yourself checking for Sy as soon as you arrived at the cookout. You socialized as you lowkey searched for him at the function, and when you realized he wasn’t there yet, you inhaled a whiff of the shirt you were wearing for the dopamine hits. It was his dress shirt from the night before that you tore off of him and that you were wearing over your tube top and jean shorts. You couldn’t help it if he left it there and it was the perfect complement for your outfit.

It was well past noon and he hadn’t arrived. You chewed your lip and let anxiety in again. You avoided questions from Carla and Tiffani about what happened, and your mind drifted to how he’d handled you last night. 

Sy’s soapy hands were all over you, pulling on your wet nipples, grabbing your wet hair as his mouth attacked your neck, and sliding over your body under the hot stream of water. He was a quick study, and at the point of your fifth orgasm, it felt as if he knew your body better than you. 

And you let him take possession. 

His slippery fingers toyed with and penetrated your ass as he fucked you senseless against the wet tile, ramming his thick cock inside you again and again as you begged for more. You came again, harder than you ever had, and afterward your energy drained out of you just like his cum streaming down your legs. He had to dry you off and carry you to bed, all the while leaving sweet kisses all over you.

You’d never felt so…loved...and in trouble.

As soon as your towel covered head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. You didn’t see Sy’s look of adoration, didn’t feel the kiss on the forehead that he gave you as he whispered “Sweet dreams,” and his chest puffed out with pride at having put you to sleep, a cocky smirk on his face as he let himself out and strode toward the Bronco. You were snoring softly.

You were busy reliving the experience of the night before, relishing the slight soreness of your body as Carla and Tiffani chattered around you. You weren’t really present until fingers started snapping in front of your face.

“Come back to earth…”

“Oh shit,” you giggled, “sorry, Carla. What were you saying?”

Both of your besties laughed at you.

“Umm hmm. Yeah. Well you answered the question without answering it. That dreamy look on your face says it all.”

You just smiled, rolled your eyes and sipped your cider.

“I’m just chilling. Sy and I had a good talk, and a good time last night. We buried the hatchet.”

Carla and Tiffani exchanged looks.

“I bet you did. I bet you buried it hard. And deep.”

You scoffed at them both, but Carla was unswayed. 

“Tell us, Buttercup. Exactly what size hatchet does Jacob Syverson carry?”

You shook your head and took another drink, rolling at your friends’ ridiculousness.

”Well, if you don’t want to give the details about Sy’s dick, you’ve got to tell us the story of that hair.” 

Carla nodded toward your thick cornrows.

“Did Sy mess it up so badly that you had to detangle in the shower, or did you get tangled up with Sy in the shower?”

Your cheeks heated as you took another swig and scanned the park to avoid answering your intuitive friends. And when you saw the Bronco, you almost choked.

You put your beverage down and straightened up, patting your head. Sy had arrived.

“Does it look alright?”

“It looks dope,” Tiffani looked around to see Betty Bronco pulling into a parking spot.

“Oh shit, she is sprung. This is gonna be good.”

Their teasing faded into the background as you watched Sy unfold out of Betty Bronco and were reminded of the night before as he ran his hand over his beard. That beard. How wet that beard got last night. Both in and out of the shower… 

You took in the vision of this man who indeed had you sprung after one night. You sighed when you saw him come toward you. Although he was dressed simply, a dark grey t-shirt and jeans, he looked like the best thing you’d seen in ages.

Damn, he was hot. Or was it that you’d just spent too much time in the sun? He strode toward you and the way his body moved was dangerous. You felt that you would hit your knees with the slighted signal from him. 

Sy was indeed hot. And you may have also had sunstroke. Both things could be true. What else would explain the way your heart was beating and the weird feeling in your stomach?

Yes. Sunstroke it was. And lust. And nothing else.

Your friends’ laughter pierced your reverie and you got up to meet him before he reached the group.

—------

Sy got home that morning and fell into his bed, daydreaming of having you in it. It was 4 am, and he fully intended on sleeping just a few hours, then waking up and sending you a good morning text.

Soon he was dead to the world.

The next thing he knew, it was 11:30, too late for a morning text. He would just have to greet you in person at the cookout. He got out of bed to get ready, taking extra time with his hair and beard. He hadn’t cared this much about how he looked since high school. He hadn’t cared this much about anything since you. He wanted to be the one that you wanted. If it was a quarter of the way he wanted you, he’d be a lucky man.

Plans rolled around in his head as he rolled toward you in Betty Bronco, but also uncertainty. Was this just a trip down memory lane for you? Just a whim of a weekend, a chance to experience everything you didn’t 20 years ago? 

Whatever this was, he wasn’t going to waste any time. 

When Sy pulled up at the event almost an hour late, lo and behold, there you were. His eyes fell on you, a vision in his white shirt, your lips wrapped around what looked like a beer bottle. Your hair was different. Sexy. But then again, every look was sexy on you it seemed.

“Well, ain’t that a daisy.”

His heart did a thing and he took a beat, trying to be cool. Sy thanked his lucky stars before he got out of the Bronco, his destination not even a question.

—--

You met him under a live oak tree, a few feet from the picnic tables. Carla and Tiffany and a couple of other people called hello to him, but he just nodded and waved at them as he focused on you.

You in his shirt was one thing, but the tube top and shorts you were wearing, he felt as if he hit the jackpot as his eyes feasted on your curves. He licked his lips as if to recall the taste of some of them.

You stood there as Sy’s eyes roamed your body possessively, and although it was 82 degrees, you shivered. Maybe you were getting the flu.

“Hullo there, Buttercup.”

Sy beamed down at you and you screamed at him in your mind as you flushed hot again. ‘Where have you been!? Why did you leave!?’

But instead you just said, “Hello, Sy.”

You grinned back up at him, suddenly okay. More than okay. Sy’s attention was a powerful drug and you’d forgotten that you were an addict. You wanted it all the time. 

“‘D’you sleep well?”

You bit your lip and grinned again as you played with the collar of the shirt you were wearing. Sy could glimpse a hickey that he’d put on your collarbone and he felt the urge to take you behind the tree and give you more. You had some powerful magic.

“Yes. Very.”

He took off his sunglasses then and stepped closer to you. His smile was contagious.

“I’m glad. You were knocked out when I left. Seemed tired.”

Your smile dropped as you chewed your lip.

“Yeah, about that. I didn’t mean to kick you out.”

Sy shifted his stance closer to you.

“You didn’t kick me out, Buttercup. You were exhausted. I said I was going to give you space.”

“You did?”

You stared at him, wide eyed. He chuckled.

“You don’t remember that, do you?”

You sighed in relief and looked at the ground, cheeks heated.

“No.”

Your voice was small and Sy’s heart lurched, He had hope. Maybe you did have feelings for him other than lust if you thought you’d hurt his. He reached for your hand, just your fingers really, and caressed them softly. He smiled at you when you looked up at him again.

“It’s okay, Buttercup. Really. I got some rest. And If I’d stayed, I have a feeling that we would still be in bed right now.”

The deep timbre of his voice and the affirmation of what you already knew had you shook, imagining a morning in bed with Sy. You went silent, staring up at him with those eyes. His cock stirred. Shit, you were so hot when you went lust-mute. He cleared his throat.

“I like your hair.”

Sy nodded at you.

“Thanks. Got a little wet last night, had to do something…”

Sy smiled at the shower memories.

“Looks great. Like your outfit, too.”

He adjusted the collar of the shirt you were weating, eyes sweeping down your form to get a look at you underneath it. He knew that all he had to do was hook his finger in your tube top and your breasts would spill out. He licked his lips as he regarded you, eyes shining with need when he looked back up into your eyes.

Your mouth opened as if for air as you stood stock still, like a deer caught in headlights. You wanted the same things he did. Damn. You were dickmatized.

“I can see what you’re thinking, Buttercup. But everyone is watching us.”

You huffed out a breath, moved closer, grabbing his t-shirt to bring him down for a kiss. You heard some people murmur and your friends high five and laugh behind you.

Sy felt triumphant. He grabbed your waist and kissed you back. Thoroughly. Then you pulled back, out of breath.

“You’re right. Everyone is watching.”

Sy brought his hand up to the back of your head and looked into your eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

The gruff whisper went straight to your cunt as he pulled you back in for another kiss. 

He finally pulled away and you were still holding on to the stainless steel chain of his dog tags. You looked up at him, ready to ditch the cookout on a word from him.

“Didn’t you get enough last night?”

You were posing the question to yourself, as well as Sy.

Sy inhaled oxygen, because he was drowning in your vibe right now. He grunted.

“Hm. I thought you understood, Buttercup. I will never get enough.”

Another kiss. You whimpered and he just knew that you were wet for him.

“I just want to haul you in the back of Betty right now, but we’re gonna do this thing today. Tonight we’ll go out for dinner, right?”

You nodded, licking your lips as he released your waist and took your hand, leading you back to the table.

—---

You all were sitting around the table playing cards a couple of hours later with your old friend group when someone pointed at Sy’s arms.

“What happened to you, Sy? Did you get attacked by a wild animal?”

Sy looked down at the scratches you left on him with pride, smirked and started to answer, ignoring the look from you.

“Well… Sorta. Kinda. You know I like to live dangerously.”

The wink he threw the questioner was for you, however, and you knew it.

“Sy, you’re too much!”

“Funny thing. Someone said that to me recently.”

You tugged on Sy’s hand.

“Excuse us for a minute, please.”

You gave them your best dignified smile, even though you hot. Sy was chuckling as he followed you back to the live oak tree out of earshot of the group. All they could see was that he was laughing now and everyone could tell that you were giving him the business.

Your friends watched you two and smiled.

Sy put his hands up and nodded, still laughing. You turned away from him, but he grabbed your hand as you tried to walk away. You turned around, annoyed, but then he pointed to his lips, suddenly serious. You gazed at them, smiled and then reached up to kiss him, then pulled away and flipped him off. He laughed again.

"Promise?"  Sy called after you. 

You flipped him off again but grinned as you rejoined the table and Sy went to get more beer. 

“So, when’s the wedding?”

“Shut the fuck up, Carla!”

—---

You let Sy pick you up that evening, and the mood was subdued. He complimented your dress and kissed you on the cheek, careful of your makeup, which you’d carefully applied. Your hair was curly again, the braid-out giving you the look that you wanted. You were quiet as you looked out of the window.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Buttercup.”

You looked at him, anxiety written all over your face.

“Today was a lot.”

Sy looked back at you.

“Today was fun.”

You sighed.

“It was. A lot of fun hanging with our friends. It was like we were a couple. Carla asked… Well, I think people think we’re a thing. They expect us to…”

Sy understood. You were spooked.

“I see. Well, if you want to know, Buttercup, in my head we are a thing, but I know you aren’t there yet. I know you’re scared.”

“I’m not…!”

“It’s okay to be scared. We’ve been through a lot. Name it for what it is. I am not into bullshitting. Especially with someone I love.”

That sentence shut your mouth.

“And I don’t give a fuck what people expect us to do. I want to enjoy any time you grace me with. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

Sy picked up your hand from the leather seat and brought the back of it to his mouth. The tender kiss went straight to your soul.

“Just be here now. I mean, we can talk about the past, or the future if you want. But let’s take it one step at a time.”

You smiled at him as he pulled you closer to him and as he kissed up your arm.

“Okay.”

Somehow, you wound up with your head on his shoulder as you drove to the restaurant.

—--

The restaurant was nice, Meyers on the River, and it was a great atmosphere as you and Sy ate on the deck overlooking the lake. You chatted, filling in some of the blank spaces of your lives.

You asked a question that had been nagging you as you ate your salmon.

“Did you- did you go all in during the war? Did you agree with all of that? I mean, almost 20 years Sy. I feel like you had to have a certain kind of mindset to do that.”

Sy shook his head, leaned back, and sighed.

“It was a job. With good benefits. And my family had been enlisted, my uncle Mike. I went and after I found out about Jeremiah, I just dedicated myself to my job over there. I channeled the feelings that I had in order to prepare myself to be a father to being a leader. My men were under my care. It was hell. Hot, sweaty, full of hate. So I became Syverson, the asshole Captain who got the job done. I survived.”

Sy shrugged and toyed with his napkin. 

“There were problems to be solved. And most of the time we solved them.”

You took in what he said and saw there was something deeper there.

“I’m glad that you are back home now.”

He smiled at you.

“Me too. Everything happens for a reason, Buttercup.”

You smiled back and thought about what he said. He was right.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

You sat back in your chair, trying to prepare yourself.

“How do you feel about never having kids? I know about your losses, and you don’t have to talk about it….”

This was part of the reason why you were so hesitant with this relationship. You took a deep breath and decided to name it.

“No. We need to talk about it. It might change your mind about me… us…

You fiddled with your fingers in your lap.

“Doubt that.”

“Just wait until I’m done, Sy.”

“Okay.”

“I have PCOS, Sy. It’s a condition that makes it very hard to get or stay pregnant. I’ve been through surgeries and meds, natural methods. The stress of my relationship also didn't help me to have healthy pregnancies. We were going to do in-vitro, but when I found out about the second mistress, I was done. Scott and I divorced and I was content to be by myself. The condition can be progressive. It’s why I take the pill everyday.”

You looked into Sy’s eyes.

“I don’t know if I will ever be able to have a baby. And I’m certainly not getting any younger.”

“I’m sorry, all that has happened to you Buttercup. But none of this changes a thing about how I feel about you or us. I still want you. I still kinda feel like forever with you.”

Sy had your hand across the table now and watched as the smile spread across your face. Something shifted inside you. Sy knew everything and he still wanted you. Maybe this could be a thing. You wanted to say so much, but instead, you just nodded at his plate.

“Finish your steak.”

Sy grinned at you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The conversation different, lighter after that. The chef came out and you spoke, then he comped your meal.

“I will never thank you enough for helping this place to happen Mr. Syverson.”

You looked at Sy quizzically.

“We solved that problem, didn’t we Ben?”

“Yes! Come back and bring your beautiful lady any time!”

“Will do, Ben. Will do.”

Sy stood up and shook his hand, then left what he would have spent on dinner as a tip. You walked out hand in hand as you looked at his profile. 

“I haven’t told you about my business. I used my payout from retirement and my injury to start a construction company. Captain Construction. We make a pretty good living. And we help folks out when we can.”

You scooted closer to him on the seat.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“I don’t know. I feel like you are in my soul though, so…”

You gave Sy a peck on the lips, and he chased you for more.

“Want me to take you back to your place? Or would you like to see my house? Built it myself.”

You looked up in the air, as if it were even a choice.

“I want to see your house. You’ve got me curious.”

Sy grinned and started the truck. Then he shook his head and turned it off again.

“Ok, no bullshitting. If I take you to my place, I’m not gonna wanna take you back until daylight tomorrow. And maybe not even then.”

“I’ll go wherever you take me, Sy.”

—-

“Please Buttercup. I’m just a mere mortal. I can’t take this.”

You loved the way his voice broke and how Sy’s eyes were glued to your body, your glowing skin, your breasts swaying with each movement, your hand which was clutching him between your luscious thighs, which were on either side of his pelvis. You were pumping his engorged and weeping cock, teasing him, and yourself, by bouncing on just the tip, your small fist preventing full penetration. 

Sy’s hands were grasping the steel bars of his headboard, stuck there by the promise he made you when you began the end of his house tour. It was a beautiful home, and now you were about to fuck his beautiful cock.

But you were testing his patience. His knuckles were white, and his biceps and pecs were flexed, forearms straining to hold back. His abs were tensed and he was gritting his teeth as he tried to respect your request, but he didn’t know that his struggle was the sexiest part.

“Hmmmm. I think this feels as good to you as it does to me, Sy.”

Sy looked to where you were connected, silently willing you to let him enter you fully. He growled.

“Please, it can feel so much better. Fuck me, Buttecup. I’m yours.”

You keened as you worked yourself open on him.

“Loot at me baby. Please. Need to see your pretty little fucked out face.”

You moaned and did as he asked. You spoke with him, halfway incoherent with pleasure as you slid down his cock.

“So, fucking hugeee. I love this big dick, Sy.”

Sy groaned as you clenched around him.

“It’s yours.”

He licked his lips as he gazed at you opening up for him. Your slick cunt clenching his cock was the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I love that tight little pussy. Is it mine?”

You reached up and grabbed his shoulders as you adjusted to his size again. You looked into his dilated eyes and gave him a kiss in response.

“Shit is so fucking big. Ah.”

Sy was quivering beneath you, still holding back from going crazy on you. While he wanted to fuck you silly, he also wanted to savor this slow sensuality with you.

“Feels amazing,” you stared down into his blazing blue eyes as you slowly circled your hips.

“Yes, it does. Holy shit it does..”

You leaned down, kissed him and started moving. Sy watched your breasts as you arched backwards and he planted his feet to fuck up into you better.

“Oh! Sy! Feel so full. So good.”

Sy growled and let the bed go, causing a grin at his loss of control. He wrapped his arms around you and held you in place as his hips moved at the devil's pace. The sound of his dick breaching your wet pussy was everything. Skin slapping on skin was the music of your heartbeats at the moment. Sy’s hand found your clit and traced wicked circles there as he pounded you out, making your eyes spark as if with stars. 

“F-f-f- u-u-u-ck! I’m- I’m coming!”

It was embarrassing how quickly he had you there.

“Give me that shit, Buttercup.”

He stroked you through your peak as you gushed around him.

“Fuck. Got my balls dripping with you. This is my dream come true baby. Gimme more.”

He sat up, grabbing your ribcage and moving you up and down his now even slicker, impossibly bigger, cock.

“Shhitttt you feel so good!”

Sy looked down and then up at the ceiling, eyes rolling at the sight. He was about to cum. He manhandled you like a rag doll so that he could kiss you. Hard.

“You are hotter than the desert, Buttercup.”

Your hands moved up his abs to his pecs, rubbing your palms on his nipples as he growled and reached for you. He pulled on your sweaty breasts until your nipples remained pinched between his fingers.

“Ahhhhhh, Sy!” 

You moaned and rolled your hips as he pulled on your sensitive nubs.

“Love your fucking sounds, Buttercup.”

His hand was sliding up the column of your throat now, manhandling you in the way you’d come to love in such a short time. You moaned and Sy felt the vibrations of your voice box on his palm.

“You are so goddamn pretty when you are impaled on my cock. Can’t get enough of you.”

Sy leaned back on one arm so that he could pound you the way he wanted. 

“Fuck, want my cum, Buttercup?”

You were circling your own clit and squeezing your breasts at the same time. 

“God, yes, Sy. Give it to me!”

“Here it comes, godamn….!”

You felt his ropes of cum spurt against your cervix as he came forcefully inside you. Sy looked down to see it and your own juices eek out of you as he kept pulsling inside you.

“It’s like it’s never gonna end, fuck! Got so much for you Buttercup.”

You reached down and played in your combined slick as he pulsed again, bringing your fingers up to taste as Sy finally finished coming.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?”

You grinned and kissed him, as you collapsed on the bed reveling in your wet, sweaty bodies as he held you close. You wriggled out of his grip.

“Time for a shower, Sy.”

You smiled as you walked into his en suite, seeing him hot on your heels.

“Damn if I don’t die a happy man.”

You laughed at Sy as he got your hair wet again.

------

Hit Reblog if you like it!

Next part here

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Good Luck Babe

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Wandavision

Summary: Wanda tries to push her feelings for you down by hooking up with Vision.

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, angst, no happy ending

Authors note: I never write angst or unhappy endings so I'm sorry to who this hurts but I also hurt myself with this one

The bar was buzzing with life, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor and into your bones. You tried to ignore the sight of Wanda and Vision at the other end of the room, but it was impossible. Wanda was taking shots and hanging all over Vision, her laughter piercing through the crowd. The two of them were kissing, and you felt a pang of jealousy and frustration.

You sipped your drink, your eyes occasionally drifting back to them. When Wanda stumbled to the bar next to you, your eyes shot her a glance. "You know kissing him isn't gonna change anything. It's not gonna stop the feelings, little witch."

Wanda turned to you, her eyes widening slightly as your words seemed to almost sober her up. "It's just the way I am. I can do whatever I want, Y/N."

You rolled your eyes at her words. "Make a new excuse, Wands, another stupid reason. This isn't you. It certainly isn't the girl I rescued in Sokovia who didn't think she could ever be a hero."

Your words felt like venom to Wanda. Her expression hardened, her walls going up completely as she grabbed a glass and downed a double shot. You watched her, your heart aching as you saw the pain flicker in her eyes for a brief moment before she turned back to Vision.

You knew this wasn’t the real Wanda, the Wanda you knew and cared about. But confronting her like this, in a bar full of people, felt like the only way to get through to her. You just hoped that somewhere beneath the bravado and the alcohol, she was still listening.

Without thinking, you grabbed her arm, pulling her against you so your lips crashed together. The kiss was electric, a mix of desperation and longing. For a moment, Wanda moved with you, her body instinctively responding to the passion. But then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to like this, like you, and pulled away, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and defiance.

"You'd have to stop the world just to stop this feeling," you said, your voice low and intense. You searched her green eyes, hoping to see a flicker of the connection you once had, but she gave nothing. Her face was a mask, hiding whatever was going on inside.

You scoffed, frustration and hurt boiling over. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a $50 bill, slamming it down on the bar. "Well, good luck, babe." You patted her shoulder, the gesture more resigned than affectionate, before turning and making your way out of the bar.

As you walked away, the neon lights outside the bar flickered, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the wet pavement. You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check. Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You knew you couldn't let Wanda see your vulnerability, not now.

Behind you, Wanda watched you go, her own tears threatening to spill. She quickly wiped them away, her tough facade cracking for just a moment. She felt the weight of her own actions pressing down on her, but she couldn't bring herself to chase after you. The distance between you felt wider than ever, and the pain of it cut deep.

You stepped out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. The city buzzed around you, indifferent to your heartache. You glanced back at the bar one last time, hoping to see her following you, but the door remained closed.

With a heavy heart, you started walking, each step taking you further away from the bar and from Wanda. The night felt endless, the stars above indifferent to the turmoil within you. You wondered if things would ever change, if the walls between you and Wanda would ever come down. But for now, all you could do was keep moving forward, hoping that someday, somehow, the love you felt for her would find its way back.

As you walked away from the bar, memories flickered through your mind like a film reel. The first time you met Wanda in Sokovia, the city in ruins around you. She had been scared and unsure, her powers raw and unrefined. You had seen something in her, a spark of potential, and had reached out to help her.

The days that followed were filled with moments that etched themselves into your heart. Bringing Wanda to the compound, seeing her eyes widen with wonder as she took in her new surroundings. The two of you training together, her powers growing stronger and more controlled under your guidance.

You remembered the quiet evenings watching sitcoms, Wanda's favorite way to unwind. Her laughter was infectious, and you found yourself falling for her more with each passing day. The kitchen became a shared sanctuary, where you'd cook together, teasing and tasting, creating more than just meals but memories.

There were the late-night make-out sessions, stolen moments of intimacy that spoke volumes of the unspoken bond between you. Each touch, each kiss, deepened the connection, making it hard to imagine life without her. You had been her first in so many ways—her first real friend, her first confidant, her first love.

Now, all of that seemed like a distant dream as you walked away from the bar. The warmth of those memories contrasted sharply with the cold reality of the present. You had tried to break through her defenses tonight, but she had shut you out, leaving you to grapple with the ache of loss.

The city lights blurred as tears filled your eyes, the weight of the past and present pressing down on you. You knew that things couldn't stay like this forever, but you also knew that it would take time for the wounds to heal.

As you turned the corner, you took one last look back at the bar. Wanda was still inside, her silhouette framed by the neon lights. You hoped that somewhere in her heart, she still felt the connection that had once brought you together. And maybe, just maybe, she would find her way back to you.

A sigh escaped your lips, knowing you needed to just leave this all behind.

“Good luck love…”

[cherryobx]

congratulations on 2.4k followers!!🤍💐

turn the radio up! can i please get a rafe cameron fic based off of the song, work song by hozier, please and thank you!!☺️

Work song

a/n: thank you sm rach! hope you like it!

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

summary: Rafe cuts his business trip short because he can't stand being away from you

warnings: like 1 bad word lmao

wc: 0.8k

“I’m not coming home just because you miss me.” 

“Why not?” you whine over the phone. Rafe is on a trip with his dad and has barely been away for a couple of days.

“Because I have shit to do here. I can’t just leave,” he scolds and you can picture him frowning and his eyebrows furrowed.

You pout. “Come on! Please, for me?”

He sighs before he gives you a negative answer. “It’s just two weeks. You can handle not seeing me for that long. Yeah?”

“I can’t, Rafe. I’m dying over here.”

“You poor thing,” he mocks. “You’ll be fine.”

“Okay, I get it. You don’t love me anymore.” You throw yourself on your bed, holding the phone to your ear and staring at the ceiling.

Another sigh, and probably an eyeroll. “Of course I still love you. I just have business I need to take care of here before I come back. Just two weeks.”

Just two weeks. Rafe has been telling himself that every time he’s thought of you during this trip. Which has been a lot. He can’t seem to focus on anything else really. Never before has a girl been on his mind like this.

He’s obviously been in relationships before. He’d rather categorise them as situationships but he’s not so sure about his ex-girlfriends.

Rafe feels like he’s going crazy. He can’t focus on the task before him, his mind drifting off to you. He’s wondering what you’re doing. If you’re at home or hanging out with your friends. He once caught himself thinking about what you had for dinner. Who cares about things like this? Him now apparently.

“Rafe!” His father says loudly. “Stop daydreaming for once and listen.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters and physically shakes his head in an attempt to get the thoughts of you out of his head for a second. It’s almost impossible. 

He checks his phone every time it lights up in hopes that it’s you. He likes getting texts from you, updating him on how your day’s going. When it’s not you, he’s disappointed.

When it’s time to go to sleep, he just can’t. He tosses and turns all night. It drives Ward crazy and he regrets getting one room instead of two at the hotel they’re staying at. Rafe’s so used to another body being next to him. He’s accustomed to having you in his arms and it’s weird and unfamiliar when you’re not there for him to hold.

Rafe held out for five days before he packed his bags in the middle of the night and got on the next flight home. His father left 12 missed calls and even more messages when he woke up but it’s too late now. Rafe has already landed and is driving home.

It’s 6am when he furiously knocks on your front door. 

“What the fuck?” you groan and put on a bathrobe before dragging yourself to the front door. It’s way too early for any human interaction, you think.

You open the door and there he is in all his glory. He looks exhausted and his hair is a mess, probably has been running his fingers through it in stress.

“Well look who it is. Mr. I’m-not-coming-home-before-the-end-of-this-trip Cameron.” There’s a smirk on your lips. You never thought he’d be the one to cave in like this.

“Shut up.” He steps into your home and closes the front door after him, locking it too for good measure.

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your sweet familiar scent. You smell like home. He feels better already, the stress immediately leaving his body.

“Come on.” You take his hand and pull him into your bedroom. 

You take off your bathrobe, revealing his own t-shirt underneath which you wore to sleep. 

“I was looking for that shirt.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“And now you’ve found it.” You plop onto your bed and hold open to cover for him so he could crawl under them with you.

He makes quick work of removing most of his clothing before joining you. His hands immediately find you and he pulls you flush against him. You place one of your palms against his chest and feel his heartbeat.

He places a soft kiss on the top of your head and then keeps his lips there. “I’m gonna marry you,” he mumbles into your hair.

“What?”

“Be quiet.”

Before you know it, soft snores are coming from the man next to you and you smile, your heart aching from the love for him. He’s so smitten. But so are you.

[jedipoodoo]

Bring Them Home (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Notes: SPOILERS FOR SEASON THREE EPISODE TWO: PATHS UNKNOWN. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE SEASON THREE PREMIERE. Children, angsty Hunter Edit: STUPID TUNGLR POSTED THIS WHEN I MEANT TO SAVE IT SO PSA-- If you read this before 10pm EST on Feb 27, this one-shot is officially completed so please reread it again and enjoy it in its full glory.

gif by @dreamswithghosts

It had been months since you'd seen Hunter, so of course you and Phee were there when the Marauder touched down in the Archium. Wrecker waved to you both as the ramp lowered, beckoning to someone inside the ship.

Hunter said they were bringing someone with them, but you didn't expect the cadets-- the children --to look so bewildered when they stepped off the ship.

"They're so young," Shep said softly, and you wondered how round and baby-faced they must have been when they left Kamino, the only home they'd ever known.

The three cadets lingered on the steps of the ramp, looking around in earnest while Wrecker waited patiently.

"It smells like Kamino," the tallest said as you approached.

"Mox, did you see the ocean? D'you think they'll let us go swimming?"

"You can do whatever you want here!" Wrecker laughed encouragingly. He gave you his classic thump on the shoulders, and you smiled. It was the happiest you'd seen him since they lost Tech and Omega.

"Hi," You introduced yourself to the cadets, "What're your names?"

"I'm Deke. This is Mox, and that's Stak." The shortest of them stepped forward, while his brothers watched you warily.

"And I'm Phee Genoa, liberator of ancient wonders," Phee smiled warmly at them all.

"Welcome to Pabu," Shep said, "I'm the mayor here. We have a warm bed and fresh food for all of you."

"Thanks," Mox, the tallest, said softly. His arms were crossed over his chest, and Stak's hands fidgeted at his side.

"Wrecker, why don't you and Phee show them the island? I reckon they're as hungry as you."

Wrecker chuckled softly and nodded towards the ship, catching your drift. He beckoned for the kids to follow him. They seemed to trust a clone more than other humans, but that was understandable.

"Have you boys ever heard of Skara Nol?" you heard Phee asking them.

"What's that?" Deke asked.

"It's a big mountain, filled with lots of puzzles!" Wrecker said, waving his arms to demonstrate.

At that point, you'd stepped aboard. The warmth of the sun dissipated as you were enveloped in the Marauder's dim lighting. Hunter sat at the navicomputer to your right, half asleep and blanketed by a hazy blue glow.

"Those boys aren't the only ones who could use a home-cooked meal, you know." You said, putting more weight into your steps so he wouldn't be surprised by your approach.

"I assume you've brought some, then?" He said.

You rolled your eyes and took the canteen of gumbo from your bag.

"Only when you step away from the computer. It won't do you any good to spill it all over Tech's equipment now."

Hunter sighed, and set another diagnostic to run through the files.

"We've got another lead," He said, turning away from the computer. Your heart fluttered at the note of hope in his voice.

"The Intel from the Durands was too old, the kids were all that's left of that lab, but we scraped some data from one of the data banks. We think it could tell us where Hemlock took Omega."

You handed him the spoon, and Hunter tried to eat politely, but it soon gave way to his hunger as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth without waiting to chew.

"Careful, you'll make yourself sick," You warned him, "You've been eating too many rations. I'll have to send you off with some real food this time."

Hunter looked up at you, and you used your thumb to wipe some sauce from his chin, but you couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"You could always come with us. How's your leg doing?"

The only reason you hadn't gone with Hunter and Wrecker when they set out to find Omega was because your femur was broken in the same railcar crash that took Tech. Phee had promised to look out for you and keep you from getting too bored while they scoured the galaxy. Despite your protests, you knew that in your injured state, you couldn't be much help at all.

So you made yourself useful in Pabu. You sewed clothes to replace those lost in the tsunami, you looked after children while their parents rebuilt, you made your family's old gumbo recipe for those who were too tired to cook at the end of the day.

Those like Hunter.

"What about the kids? Deke, Mox and...Stak?"

Hunter nodded, "Shep said there were some families on Pabu who could take care of them for now, he even offered to take two of them into his own house."

"Oh," You said softly, "That's kind of him."

Setting the empty canteen to the side, Hunter squeezed one of your hands as it hung at your side.

"Everything alright, cyare?"

"Oh!" After so long without him, you forgot how well he knew you.

"I just...I was hoping we could take them in, take care of them."

Hunter's eyes softened, and finally stood. "I'll admit I thought about it myself, but..."

"Not while Omega's still captured," You finished for him, dropping his hand and folding your arms.

Hunter's thumb brushed against your cheek, begging for you to look at him.

"You remember that night on Ord Mantell, right?" He asked.

You pouted, bottom lip jutting out, "We spent a lot of nights on Ord Mantell." Too many, to be precise.

"You know the one I'm talking about," He cupped your face in both hands, and you looked up at the dark circles beneath his eyes.

And you did know the night he mentioned. It was a full moon, so you could actually see the moon high above all the neons and smoke from the city. Hunter had made you a promise then and there, and you made one to him too. Nothing like marriage, but something like it.

Biting your lip, you reached up to run your thumb over his crows' feet. His eyes closed, blissfully relaxed beneath your touch. You knew how much he needed to find her. He could never forgive himself if anything happened to you, to Wrecker, or any of the cadets they'd just saved.

"I meant what I said that night," He whispered, eyes glistening as his forehead rested against yours, "We'll have our own family some day, something Kamino and the Empire won't ever be able to take from us. We just have to wait a bit longer."

You sniffled just a bit, and buried your face in his chest. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and when he wrapped his arms around you he leaned more of his body weight on you than he usually did. He felt frail, delicate even, like too much pressure in one place would snap him in half.

Hunter needed you, and you needed him.

"I'm coming with you," You whispered. He sighed with relief.

"Let's bring her home."

[themissinghand]

Hiiii.Welcome home and back!.How was your day?.I hope it was good.I miss you.Can I make a request about Han Yoojin x femreader?!.(This guy needs attention like Kim Dokja and Cale Henituse!!).The reader is very loyal and loves Han Yoojin.The reader and him were lovers in the first life before the reader died from the high rank dungeon.So they met again after he 'collected' the S rank hunters.Angst to Fluffy.Hehehe.I need something to cry then happy.

Thank you for listening. Take care of yourself.

The S-Classes that I Raised Heartstrings [1]

Part 2!

Summary: In which you don't remember Han Yoojin in this life, but he remembers everything. 

Or, as Yoojin watches you from afar, he vows to make you fall in love with him all over again.

Pairing: Han Yoojin x F! Reader

Note: I'm doing good! Hope you're having a wonderful day too!

It is my job as a manhwa reader to complete the holy trinity. Also, is it just me or like it's a desert for this fandom for x reader stories??

Warnings: Angst and fluff served on a silver platter just for you anon!  ★・・・・・・★

“Y/N!” 

Han Yoojin pulled you in a hug, relief washing over him for a brief moment until he was pushed away harshly.

“Who are you?!” 

“Woof! Woof!” Your dog, a Maltese, growls at him fiercely, trying to protect his owner. 

Seeing your shocked and cold expression, one that screamed “touch me and I will call the police”, Han Yoojin struggled to come up with words. 

You don’t remember. 

“Stop Bong!” You called out, trying your best to calm your dog by slowly stepping back away. Once Bong was a little more tame, you looked at Han Yoojin with a suspicious look. 

“I don’t know you.” 

With a bitter smile, Yoojin swallows, before bowing and apologizing. 

“Sorry, wrong person. The person I am looking for has the same name and looks similar to you.” Your hostile expression fades away to one of understanding and even empathy.

“Oh, that’s okay. My name is pretty common in Korea.” You smile awkwardly before dusting off your shirt. 

“You seem very desperate to find this person, so I hope you find her soon.”

With a weak smile, Yoojin nods and waves goodbye. Watching you leave and hop onto a bus. His eyes follow you until you completely leave his sight. 

“Hyung! There you are. What are you doing?” 

“Just…meeting a friend.” 

That’s right. You don’t remember. 

Han Yoojin met you in his lowest times. 

When his younger brother rose to the top of fame as a S-rank, he was left behind. 

He was ridiculed by the world and abandoned by the brother whom he tried so hard to raise. 

In the midst of trying so hard to understand and gain recognition, he met you, who was an D-class hunter that specialized in healing. 

You, who reached out to heal his wounds and scars, and the first to see him without the branding of a failed older brother of a S-class hunter. 

You, who helped him stand on his two feet again after each failure of a dungeon. 

You, who stayed with him through his depression, and frustration. 

You, who showered him with reassurance, kindness, patience and love, whereas he was too naive, envious, and took advantage of you for emotional support.

You, who taught him his worth-

And him, who couldn’t protect you. 

“I’m sorry, (L/N) (Y/N) has died in the B-Rank dungeon.” 

Your death has killed him too. 

He remembered going back after your funeral to your shared apartment. He didn’t know how he made it back, he felt like he was simply drifting along without any meaning in life. 

“Woof!” Startled, Han Yoojin looked down to see the white Maltese looking up at him with cute puppy eyes.

“Woof!” Bong patted his shoe, before running around, patting the door, as if telling Yoojin something. 

Then, Bong sniffed your shoes. 

Han Yoojin remembered breaking down then, crying, begging, and praying to God like a pathetic idiot he was. 

In his next life, he will protect you.

He hugged Bong close, who seemed irritated and confused. 

Bong didn’t understand. 

For everyday he waited by the door, waiting for you.

Everyday that passed without you, Han Yoojin was dying.

He slowly went back to his old self, and society began to overwhelm him. 

Until the day he too caused his younger brother to die, and he got the opportunity to fix everything from the beginning.

Han Yoojin wanted to see you so badly. 

From the moment he woke up in the past, you and Yoohyun were the first he wanted to see. 

But, he remembered how he was so weak and useless, and did not want to repeat that life again. 

So he built up strength, collecting S-classes as he goes and making sure that he will never be a burden to Yoohyun or anyone he loves. 

So that when he met you again, you didn’t have to take on the burden to take care of him. 

This time, Han Yoojin swore that he will protect you. 

Even if you don’t remember who he is, and even if no one else acknowledges you, he will. 

Just like you have done with him.

“Bong!” 

“Hyung!” 

“Wait Yoohyun!” Yoojin stops his younger brother from making a mess, and watches a familiar Maltese stop in front of him with puppy eyes. He sniffs his shoes and then circles him excitedly. 

“Woof!” 

Does Bong remember?

“Bong, you can’t just run away like that!” You catch up finally, panting a little bit before meeting Yoojin’s eyes. 

For a moment, time seems to stop as if giving Yoojin time to make a decision. 

But luckily, he didn’t need to once he saw your potential showing above your head.

“Ah, you’re the man from before! So sorry about that. It seems like Bong remembered you.” You were embarrassed as you picked up Bong in your arms. 

“It’s okay, I like dogs.” 

“Yea, I don’t know why Bong is acting like this. Usually, he isn’t that friendly with strangers…”

 “What’s your name?” Yoojin asked, and you sheepishly answered. 

“(L/N) (Y/N), and you are?” 

“Han Yoojin, and this is my brother Han Yoohyun.” You gasp, a look of realization flashed on your face, before bowing profusely. 

“I’m so sorry, I promised we won’t bother you again-”

“It’s okay, actually, are you a hunter by chance?” You stood confused, but nodded. 

“I am…but I am only a D-class healer-” 

“That’s perfect, we were looking for one, and you look like you have potential. Right Yoohyun?” Yoojin quickly elbowed his younger brother, hoping that he would get the cue, and Yoohyun smartly responded with a nod. 

“Are you sure? I don’t think my skills are that valuable.” Surprised and embarrassed, you fidgetted a bit and stroked Bong’s head. 

“Don’t worry, I see potential when I see one.” With a hand extended for a hand shake, he smiled gently, just like how you reached out to him. 

“I believe you can be better than you are now.”

This time, his skills can help you become someone more than a D-class hunter, but a S-class Saintess. 

Because that’s who you are.

It was hard to get you to trust him. 

It was even harder, managing the suspicious looks from Yoohyun and his S-class children, and ensuring you are safe from his potential enemies.

But it was all worth it, when you learn, grow and gain confidence in your skills. 

With how close the two of you have gotten, both of you celebrated in a restaurant with beer after seeing a breakthrough in your healing skills. 

“(Y/N), I love you.” 

Yoojin said out of nowhere, and while he said it to activate his skill, it was also with a genuine heart. 

“(Y/N), I love you.” He felt emotional, finally saying the words he buried deep in his heart that he wasn’t able to say easily back then. 

You, who was tipsy and giddy, could only grin stupidly and joke at his comment. 

“Haha! I love you too, Han Yoojin.” 

Even though you probably will not remember tonight, or your time together with Yoojin in your past life, Yoojin is happy with this. 

“Aww, boss, why are you crying?” 

“Shut up and drink.” 

“Yes sir!” 

Seeing you laugh as you down each drink, he matches your energy with gratitude. 

This time, he will be patient, he will be your emotional support and shield. 

This time, he won’t be foolish, he won’t be a burden. 

This time, he will treat you better, and cherish you with everything he’s got.

So if, by the off chance that you will remember the past, the two of you can still live a happy life together. 

“Yoojin~ Did you find that person *hic* by the way? My twin?” 

It became a running joke, one that embarrassed Yoojin, but also made him feel happy. 

“I did.” 

“I hope I can meet her soon!” 

“Me too.” 

When you finally knocked yourself out, he laid on the table facing your sleeping face and smiled. 

“(Y/N), I love you.” 

[helloliriels]

One More Time (With Feeling)

"Are you sure?" Sherlock eyed the familiar street with wonder.

"Completely sure." The man behind him in the big blue box smiled. He was leaning over Sherlock's shoulder, trying to get a peek ... "This the moment?" he asked, grinning wider.

"This was ... this was it," Sherlock stammered. His feet betrayed him, already eagerly stepping out of the box and onto the cobblestone pavement.

He made it two steps towards Angelo's before the thought struck him. "What if he doesnt-?"

"-Want you?!" The man mocked incredulity, shaking his head, "trust me ... you're irresistible." Then he shut the doors of the Tardis, and Sherlock had to move or risk being seen.

He took a deep breath, then heard the whir of the machine disappearing behind him.

This was it.

.

Sherlock straightened his suit jacket, running his fingers through his messy curls and ... decided to take the jacket off and make himself appear as much like his younger self as possible.

Next ... he shot a text to himself. Waiting until that Sherlock was out of the way in the loos, he stole into the same seat beside John.

"So ... you have a girlfriend?" John was just asking.

Perfect timing.

. ... God, how much he had missed this John!

. eager, and open, and .... waiting ... ?

.

"Not really my area." he answered, swallowing his fears.

He feigned interest out the window, keeping his minds-eye firmly fixed on John. Trying to capture and record every minute detail of this precious moment.

"Oh," John took a bite, and then looked up again quickly, "Oh? You ... have a boyfriend, then?"

Sherlock's eyes flitted towards John's despite his best efforts.

"Which is fine, of course!" John hurried to add.

"Of course it's fine," Sherlock answered, suddenly needing water. He took a deep drink and caught his eyes drifting back to meet John's.

"So you have a boyfriend?" John asked.

Hurried pulse. Short breaths.

John had even licked at his lips when he spoke, like he was nervous ... afraid to ask? ... how had he not noticed before ... ?

"Nope," Sherlock replied, deepening his voice to a purr. The effect was not lost on John ...

Dilated eyes.

. Cheeks turning rosy.

. Slight shift in his seat ...

"Not unless ... you are applying for the job?" Sherlock asked unconcerned, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

John was watching his neck ... his pulse. Licking his lips again. His breathing hitched. Heavy.

This was hardly a fair game.

.

"Maybe we should go?" he asked, extending his hand.

Suddenly John rose with him.

Then hesitated.

"Did we need to-" John looked out the window, "... your murderer?" he asked, genuinely concerned they would let a criminal roam free if they left? It was adorable.

"Oh ... just passing the time," Sherlock reassured him with a dismissing wave of his hand, "it was a long-shot he would appear." Then ... as much as he wanted to stay and enjoy what followed ...

. Decided ...

He'd better go tell his younger, idiotic self .... the chances he was throwing away if he did not continue.

He would be understanding.

"Let me settle the bill," he lied, excusing himself to see John eagerly already out the door pacing back and forth with a smile on his face.

(psst! ... more is beneath cut!) - Liri

"You made it home, love?" John was smiling at him in a knowingly ... achingly ... more-than familiar way ... ?

"Did you ... miss me?" Sherlock asked cautiously, entering 221B. He closed the door behind him and stood with his back pressed against it.

Present Day.

Safely returned from his time-travel adventures.

He hoped.

"Did I miss you ...?!" John laughed. He was already taking Sherlock's hands in his, and sweeping him into the room.

Deftly, he danced them both around to the fireplace ... like this was just something they did, and had done ... a million times before?

Sherlock lost himself in the movement. Closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation that was John Watson, held in his arms.

He had only once before been able to steal that pleasure; Beneath the pretense of 'teaching John to dance'.

When at last, dazed, and more than pleasantly bewildered, they stopped swaying ... Sherlock dared to open his eyes.

A happy sigh escaped John's lips. Making him look even more ... irresistible?

"I take it you missed me too?" John teased. Pulling Sherlock down for a soft, delicious kiss. Sherlock melted into his arms. Giving John everything he had pent up inside of him, since leaving his younger self to carry on with the night before them ...

John's eyes opened wide as Sherlock finally released him.

"Where did that come from?" he asked, awed.

His fingers were on Sherlock's lips ... memorizing his face ... and then ... wiping a tear from where it traced down Sherlock's pale cheek.

"You have no idea ... how much I've missed," Sherlock replied at long last. His breath hitching against the words he struggled to free.

John kissed him again. More languid ... more painstaking possessive this time ... and Sherlock felt his knees weaken.

"Take me to bed, John?" he asked.

Genuinely wanting to know ... and to feel ...

. What their first time was like ... for himself ... ?

"Oh God, yes," John whispered.

. Leading the way.

..........................................................................................

For @totallysilvergirl request for the Angelo scene and @calaisreno prompt: Do-Over. Plus tossing in one more Doctor: (couldn't resist, mate)

@johnlocky @chinike @rhasima @raina-at @lisbeth-kk @jrow @khorazir @fluffbyday-smutbynight @topsyturvy-turtely @gaylilsherlock @a-victorian-girl @solarmama-plantsareneat @impalaparkedat221b @chriscalledmesweetie @friday411 @ghostofnuggetspast @sgam76 @janetm74 @peanitbear @masterofhounds @missdeliadili @loki-lock @meetinginsamarra @bs2sjh @gomielka @thetimemoves @thegildedbee @iwlyanmw @jobooksncoffee @amyreadsandstresses @kittenmadnessandtea @naefelldaurk @dragonnan @jolieblack @notjustamumj @jawnn-watson @dinner--starving @safedistancefrombeingsmart @weeesi @gregorovitch-adler @inevitably-johnlocked @dapetty @bewitched-bullet @theofficialinternetloner @keirgreeneyes @dontfuckmylifewtf @strawberrywinter4 @thalialunacy

[scuderiasundays]

trophy boyfriend

summary: a high school reunion with a special appearance by yours truly

words: 809

a/n: my first and most likely last drabble. the product of my latest dreams and delusions. bon appetit 👩🏻‍🍳

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” You wondered why no one had thought to mention how painstakingly slow time passes when you’re doing the opposite. You had graduated high school seven years ago and to say that you had drifted from your friends would be an understatement. The daily updates about everything from dorm room decor to upcoming deadlines had withered down to annual “Happy birthday! Hope you’re doing well.” texts. This is why it came as such a surprise when an invitation for a class reunion showed up in your inbox. 

“It looks like they’re planning a high school reunion now that the pandemic has settled down. I won’t be going, of course.” You casually brought up the topic over dinner with Carlos, your boyfriend of three years. Life was busy enough as it was, and this was one of those rare nights you had him all to yourself. No late-night cramming for you and no post-race briefings for him. You couldn’t help but wonder how you got so lucky to end up with the doe-eyed Spaniard sitting opposite you. Carlos had devoted the whole evening to making his signature burgers, only pausing for the occasional dance break with Piñon. 

“You know what? I think you should go.” The uneasy look on your face was enough for him to reach across the table to hold your hand. “Hey, look at me. No one knows what you’ve been up to and you’ve come so far.” Carlos was right about you disappearing off the face of the earth. You kept a low profile on all social media platforms, preferring to keep your inner circle small. The only people who knew where you were at any given moment were your mom, Carlos, and your study group at medical school. The shift to online classes during the pandemic had allowed you to follow your boyfriend from race to race but you had somehow managed to stay out of the public eye. You treasured what the two of you had, a love that was just yours. 

It took a walk to the gelato shop and Carlos running you a hot bath with bubbles to finally convince you to go. It just so happened that the reunion was happening on a Sunday. “It would’ve been more fun with you by my side. I could’ve introduced you as my trophy boyfriend.” You joke, mentally calculating the travel time between the venue and the circuit. “I’ll see what I can do, amor.” He says, giving you a kiss goodnight before turning out the lights.

Sunday came and your eyes were glued to your phone screen as you checked Carlos’ location on the “Find My” app. It was obvious you were using your phone as an escape from interacting with the crowd slowly gathering in front of you. “Hi! We didn’t even think you’d show up, Y/N. We’re all dying to know what you’ve been up to!” You heard a shrill voice approach you from behind and immediately knew it belonged to the former class president. You chatted back and forth, slowly dying inside as you were bombarded with questions from left and right. 

You had gone to an all-girls school, and it wasn't long before the topic of significant others came up. "Are you seeing anyone? What line of work are they in? Medicine? Finance, maybe?"  You hadn’t prepared for this one: “He works with cars.” That was all your frazzled brain could muster. “Oh, a mechanic! Give me his number. I need to get my car detailed,” someone said. Way to jump to conclusions, you thought as you politely excused yourself from the hustle and bustle. 

You were walking back to rejoin the crowd when you noticed everyone gathered around the only man in the room. He appeared to be holding up a gleaming, gold trophy, truly captivating his devoted audience. “No, it can’t be,” you thought as you edged closer. You could hardly believe your eyes but there he was in all his glory. “Lots of driving for one day but it looks like I made it just in time.” Carlos says, lighting up the room with his infectious charm. 

A million selfies and autographs later, you were being driven home in Carlos’ 812 Competizione. Carlos’ hand lay softly on your thigh as you leaned into the breeze seeping through the car’s open window. 

“I realized something tonight, Carlos. I don’t need emotional validation from people I hardly know anymore. None of them would be crazy enough to fight post-race pain and fatigue just to make me happy. You, my love, are all that matters.” It all comes out like word vomit, but you mean every single word. He takes a quick glance at you and chuckles. “Te quiero tanto. It was my honor being your literal trophy boyfriend, even if it was just for the night.” 

[thefallennightmare]

HC Tuesday ❤️❤️ can you write about reader bumping into Noah out somewhere and she truly doesn't recognize him. Maybe she's more of a book girlie 👀👀 (if you catch my drift hah) and doesn't really listen to much other than classic as she plays some type of instrument (violin, harp, atc) so she hasn't heard of BO. He's stoked to talk to someone who doesn't see him as a famous person, but just Noah.

@thescarlettvvitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka @Karenfranco @its-inourblood @amelia-acero @xxkittenkissesxx

"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed when you bumped into the large body.

You had your head deep in your book that you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, nearly stumbling over your feet.

Your book dropped to the floor and when you glanced up at the man in front of you, you sucked in a breath.

Bright almond eyes stared back at you, ginger facial hair peppering the skin around his mouth, and tattoos peeking out from the white tank top he wore. He had a hat low on his head, almost as if he was trying to hide who he was.

"It's alright," his voice was deep, rumbling in his chest as he watched your face intently.

A red hue covered your cheeks, your skin feeling hot underneath his gaze.

"I should have been watching where I was going," you muttered over the surprisingly quiet street of Los Angeles.

It was late afternoon and you were headed to the local cafe you loved to frequent. Ready to curl up on their large sofas, reading your book.

The man scratched at the snake and apple tattoo on his neck. "Seemed like whatever you were reading was pretty interesting."

"Shit!" You cursed when you noticed your book still on the ground.

The man noticed as well and bent at the knees to pick it up, your eyes immediately noticed more tattoos on his back.

"The Losers?" He peaked a brow at the cover of four shirtless men. "What's it about?"

Quickly, you snatched the book away from him, his skin brushing against yours causing a fire to ignite deep in your belly.

Typically you didn't care if people saw you reading a book full of sex in public. Especially one that was filled with sex of one girl with four other guys.

But something about this stranger made you nervous, in a weirdly good way.

"It's uh-," you hugged the book to your chest. "It's kind of hard to explain."

He chuckled while rising back to his full height, towering over you. "Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

There was something in the way he watched you, almost wondering if you were going to recognize him, but that would be futile. You'd never seen this man before.

Giving him a small smile, you apologized once again for running into him before slipping inside the cafe.

It was packed and you were lucky to find a spot in the far-off corner, hidden away from others.

With your fresh cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of you, you curled up on the couch to spend the next long while reading.

"Is this seat taken?"

You glanced up from your book to see the man from earlier standing in front of you, pointing to the open spot on the couch next to you.

"Are you following me?" You teased.

He shrugged. "I saw a pretty girl walk into a coffee shop with a book about sex. Piqued my interest."

Now your cheeks were on fire and while clearing your throat, you motioned to the spot next to you, he quickly sat down.

For the rest of the afternoon, you two talked about a lot of your shared interests.

When it came to the topic of music, that's when his oddly staring before began to make sense.

"I tend to listen to a lot of softer music. I play the violin so I like the classical side of things."

"So you never heard of Bad Omens?" He rested his arm alongside the back of the couch, his fingers softly grazing over your shoulder.

You shook your head. "Nope, should I have?"

He rubbed at his chin with his other hand. "Considering it's my band, I'm shocked you haven't."

"Oh that explains all the tattoos!" You snapped your fingers with a playful smile.

His chuckle rumbled underneath his broad chest and you bit your lip at the sight of him.

He really was gorgeous.

Not just his physical appearance but his mind as well. The way he spoke so elegantly about things.

"Let me guess, guitar player?"

He laughed again, the noise making your stomach flutter. "Yes and no. While I do play guitar, for the band I sing."

"Hm, maybe I'll have to check you out sometime," you winked.

He leaned closer, his breath fanning over your lips. "Anytime you want."

[im-his-druidess]

heyy !! i had an idea about Vincent protecting omega reader (she can be in heat or not) from being harassed by her friend/boyfriend

you can write it in headcanons or however you want :D if you're comfortable ofc

I am absolutely comfortable with this 👀 I'm going to alter this just a bit but I hope you like it! 💙

You were already spiraling headfirst into your heatcycle when you rolled into the seemingly vacant town of Ambrose, your friends desperate to get away from your cloying scent that no doubt smelled sickly-sweet to their Beta noses, and you were unceremoniously left to slump against the storefront of local a pet store while everyone else continued to drive to the gas station. Hoping to find directions to a hotel and a store with some suppressants.

Not that those would help with you already this far into your Heat.

You had suggested that they leave you here in the shade, growing restless and agitated by the way they eyed you sideways and complained at your "lack of forethought". It wasn't your fault that your Heat was a whole two weeks early, but you knew they would never understand so you just grit your teeth against their judgmental looks. Now, with a warm breeze cooling your sweat dampened skin and fresh air in your lungs, you stared lazily at the wispy clouds above. Fuzzy brain trying to make shapes while studiously ignoring the wetness oozing between your jean short clad thighs.

You idly wondered if there was a laundromat in the town.

Movement a few yards away caught your attention and you lifted your head to squint at the store across the street. In the shadow of the alleyway you could make out the large vague shape of someone peering around the back of a hardware store. It seemed they were staring in your direction. It was instinct more than anything that had you dragging your hand up in an exhausted greeting, wiggling your fingers in a wave, and you even smiled shyly hoping that you weren’t about to be made to move from your spot by an angry business owner. The figure zipped back behind the building and you slowly blinked a few times trying to guess if you imagined the entire thing or if it was symptoms of your Heat frying your braincells. Then, much to your amusement, the figure popped up on the other side of the building only a few seconds later.

They were near the front of the store, peeking around the corner furthest from you but now a few feet closer, and you squinted once more at the shape. With the sun obscuring your vision you could only make out that they were tall and had long dark hair, but you still raised your hand in another greeting. Any thoughts that this person might do you harm in your delicate state not once even crossing your mind.

“I hope you don’t mind me sitting here,” you called out softly, flushing in embarrassment as you thought about how to explain your predicament, but the figure hesitated before dipping back out of sight.

You blinked again at the quick departure before letting your head fall back against the sun-warmed brick wall of the storefront. Over the sound of crickets chirping and the leaves rustling in the trees, you could hear the faint whimper of puppies inside the store. You wanted nothing more than to go inside and play with them, but the increasingly painful cramping in your pelvis left you glued to the sidewalk.

You didn’t know how long had passed as you stared up at the sky, random incomplete thoughts drifting in your head, and you lazily watched a bumblebee buzzing curiously around a dandelion poking up through a crack in the sidewalk before you turned your head to follow the bee and you suddenly found yourself gazing at a crouched figure peeking out from the pet store corner just a few inches away from you.

Your muddled brain didn’t even let you scream in surprise and instead you just blinked owlishly at the sudden appearance.

This close you could now see it was a man, judging by the broad shoulders and tense muscles stretching the wool fabric of his long sleeve beige sweater, and long midnight black hair fell past his shoulders in gentle, albeit tangled, waves. Long slender fingers were gripping the edge of the brick wall tightly and you glanced up at his face when his entire body seemed to twitch. It was your turn to twitch when you realized that the man was wearing a mask. It appeared to be carved out of a substance you couldn’t immediately identify, but you stared in growing awe at the sheer intricacy of the mask. You could make out sharp cheekbones and a strong straight jaw, an aristocratic nose and full lips pulled into a neat line with an almost invisible sliver sliced between the top and bottom lip for an airflow.

The space for one eye, from what you could see through a curtain of thick hair, was completely black and seemingly empty, while the other peered through the mask in a vibrant shade of bright blue.

“Wow…you’re gorgeous,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and, because it seemed like you couldn’t shut up, you continued to further embarrass yourself, “your mask is absolutely beautiful.”

The man jerked back as if physically slapped by your words and you winced at yourself and scrubbed a hand over your face. Your brain was turning into mush and your insides felt like they were tearing themselves apart and now mortification had you wanting to rip out your own tongue.

“I’m so sorry. That was rude of me,” you muttered through your hands, unable to look back at the man, and a few moments later you felt warm calloused fingers tug gently yet insistently at your hands.

You jumped at the sudden touch and you felt an answering throb low in your pelvis at the skin contact. You looked up and held back your yelp of surprise when the man was now directly in front of you.

Before you could fully register the man being close enough to block out the sun from his massive frame, or of him touching you, you caught his scent on the breeze.

‘Alpha,’ your inner Omega nearly howled and you couldn’t stop the high-pitched trilling that escaped your throat.

The simmering heat in your veins instantly turned into a boil, the cramping in your abdomen taking your breath away as it turned to sharp stabbing pain, and you felt a surge of wetness slick your thighs through your shorts. An answering croaky purr, sounding almost unsure and hesitant, left the man and you subconsciously leaned towards him.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, but I need…,” you panted, trailing off as static filled your head and stole any words from you, and you rested your head on the Alpha’s broad shoulder.

“I don’t know,” you confessed with a small sob and you felt a large hand sweep gently over your back. You could’ve wept at the tender touch.

The scent of the natural Alpha spice, paraffin wax, and faint fresh lavender filled your nose and turned your already mushy brain into pure liquid. You restlessly burrowed your forehead into the man’s shoulder, clammy and clumsy hands gripping his sweater sleeves, and you felt a cautious nuzzle against your sweaty temple. His broad chest rumbled in a nearly silent purr and you offered little resistance when he gradually helped you to your feet.

“My friends…,” you began in a voice that was slurred and nearly unrecognizable, but the man just hooked one arm beneath your knees and the other across your back and lifted you effortlessly in a bridal hold.

After you were in his arms he stood completely still, almost as if he didn’t think past this part, and it felt like he was hesitating about something. You knew he could smell the copious amount of slick oozing from you, could probably see the wet patch on the crotch of your shorts if he looked closely, but instead he just nuzzled your head again with more confidence and started walking. There was little you could do except go limp in his strong arms, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck where his scent both enhanced the pain in your body and calmed the restless itch beneath your skin.

His long hair felt like silk against your face and you had the sudden urge to drag your fingers through it. As he walked you distracted yourself with his hair and gingerly twirled a curl around your fingertip. Noticed how the thick strands swayed with his steps, how it seemed he had bits of wax and paint clumped in various places as if he wasn’t careful with his hair, and you eventually noticed paint specks and dried wax on his sweater. You felt a pointed nudge against your head and you blearily glanced up to see him jerk his strong chin somewhere over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and realized that you were across from a gas station, your friend’s car parked outside, and they were all inside laughing with a man in a mechanic’s uniform. They seemed completely at ease and in no rush whatsoever and you felt tears well up in your eyes after the shock dissipated at seeing them and humiliation made bile sting the back of your throat.

‘So much for rushing back to help. They literally dumped me on the side of the road like trash,’ you thought bitterly.

You knew your emotions were heightened in your hormonal state, but that didn’t stop the way a small sob escaped your mouth. The Alpha tightened his grip on you in answer. One of your friends finally caught notice of you and you watched with horror as he rolled his eyes and pointed in your direction with his thumb. Another friend looked over her shoulder at you and promptly started laughing although she tried to cover it with her hand. Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt the tears spill from your eyes as shame briefly overrode the pain from your Heat. A hiccupping sob left you and the mechanic finally glanced over, you couldn’t see much of his face from underneath his baseball cap, but the Alpha holding you gave a small imperceptible nod that you wouldn’t have caught if your hand wasn’t in his hair.

There was a silent exchange of sorts between the Alpha and the mechanic before a small ‘chuff’ left the Alpha and he started walking again with seemingly a renewed sense of purpose.

He was walking away from the gas station and you were momentarily confused until you spotted through your tears a large looming house in the distance in the direction he was walking. You sniffled and tried your best to swat away your tears before clearing your throat. Trying desperately to save any dignity you had left.

“Is that a hotel?” you croaked out as you glanced back up at the masked man and it was a few seconds before he finally nodded.

You relaxed back into his embrace, feeling his wide chest rumble with a quiet purr in acknowledgement that had your inner Omega preening, and winced at a particularly strong cramp seizing your stomach. Now doubting that your friends have even asked about suppressants or told anyone about your situation you let your head rest against his shoulder as more embarrassment flooded your frazzled nerves.

“Is there a doctor or a clinic in town? I know you probably already realized it, but I’ve…I’ve started my Heat,” you asked in a small voice while curling and twisting your hands nervously into his sweater without much thought as you kept your gaze on the approaching building.

Maybe the clinic had a spare Heat room you could use so you wouldn’t irritate the other visitors at the hotel. The man took another few seconds to nod and you were suddenly hit with the realization that you haven’t heard the man speak once since he found you. You tried not to take it personal since he’s been so helpful, but you found yourself suddenly curious about his voice. It would clearly have to match his massive and imposing figure and you spent the next few minutes distracting yourself with that train of thought until you heard gravel crunching underneath the man’s boots as he started up the long winding driveway.

“Maybe my friends can stay in a different hotel…or sleep in the car,” you muttered as you eyed the large windows and the calmly swaying trees straddling each side of the building.

You could hear a dog barking in the distance. It seemed peaceful and you selfishly didn’t want your friends to ruin the calm.

You felt an answering nuzzle on the top of your head, another chest-rumbling purr, and you felt yourself smiling at the actions of the gentle giant holding you. His scent was nothing but calming pheromones, happiness with a hint of panic probably due to being in close proximity with an Omega in Heat, before closing your eyes and breathing in deep. The warm humid breeze coupled with the subtle swaying of the man walking and the shade of the trees eased that panicked anxious feeling in your gut. This was a lot better than sitting on the side of the street.

“I’m glad you found me,” you blurted out softly only to wince when the man seemed to stumble at your words.

Before you could apologize he started purring again, the new rumbling deep enough that it felt like your very bones were rattling, and he squeezed you a bit tighter in his arms.

It seemed he was just as happy.

[saratinz]

Erase Him From Your Brain

pairing ➩ Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

warnings ➩ angst, drinking, smut, pure filth, spanking, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, praise, pet names (good girl, slut)

synopsis ➩ sequel to 'Fuck Away the Pain'

word count ➩ 1.4k

a/n ➩ to celebrate reaching 69 followers, I give you part 2. comment to be added to taglist.

Your date with bucky is tonight, and you could not be more nervous. It’s weird, the fact that you’re about to have a romantic evening with the guy who you only had hatred towards two weeks ago. There’s a thin line between love and hate, and you two had crossed it. You have no idea what’s going to happen at this dinner. He picked a fancy restaurant, but no amount of money spent can make up for a lack of connection. And that’s your worst fear, realizing that even though your sexual chemistry is off the charts, your ideas of romance might clash. 

You went through hundreds of different outcomes in your head, but never did you expect this one to even be possible. “Ma’am, if he’s not gonna show up, I need you to give up the table.”

“Thank you for being so patient, he’s not coming. Here, let me give you, $20, for your time.”

“I’m so sorry about your boyfriend.”

“Appreciate it. Have a good evening.”

When you get back to the compound, you can’t stop the tears that flood your eyes. How could he do this to you? How could you fall for it, fall for him? Whatever shred of respect you had for him a month ago is gone. James Barnes is a no-good, very bad, wretched man, and no amount of charm will ever get him out of this hole he dug. You are done. Done with lies, done with assholes, and done with love. What even is love anyway? Seems like all it does is cause pain. Your thoughts race as you lie in your bed, wondering what the fuck you did wrong. You’ve felt this pain before, you know you can beat it, but everything feels so awful. You want this hurt to be gone. Why won’t it just go away? Why won’t he just go away? That’s your last thought before you drift off into a not-so-peaceful slumber.

You wake up to violent knocking, with your eyes puffy and pillow stained with makeup. “Y/n, it’s Bucky.” Fuck this, you roll over, figuring he’ll eventually go away. “I know you’re in there, F.R.I.D.A.Y confirmed for me.

“Fuck off James.”

“C’mon baby, just let me apologize.”

“Get away or I swear to god, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“Just, I rescheduled our dinner for tonight, if you don’t come, I understand, but I’m giving you the option.”

“Hope you’re more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life.”

“I love you. ”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You scream into your pillow. The thought of going to dinner with Bucky makes you sick. It still crosses your mind though. No, you refuse to think about what could happen. Like how he could apologize, could be easy to talk to, could be your soulmate. Shut up brain. You do not want the guy who betrayed you, the guy who teased you to no end. You hope he’s in pain, and maybe that’s wrong, but it’s simply how you feel. 

You’re not usually a day-drinker, but this situation calls for it. You cradle your favorite drink, sipping it way faster than you should. You see a familiar face passing. “Hey Sam.”

“Hey Y/n. I need to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Bucky.”

“God, please don’t tell me he put you up to this.”

“He’s so sorry. He had a few drinks before dinner, he was so nervous, he wanted things to be perfect. He passed out from not sleeping or eating.”

“Here’s the thing, I don’t care what happened. I was scared too, but I showed up anyway.”

“He wanted me to give you this.” 

“Take it back to him, I don’t want it.”

“He said even if you didn’t open it, I have to force you to take the box.”

“Sam you’re really getting on my nerves.”

“Y/n, you want my honest opinion?”

“Go ahead.”

“He’s an asshole, you deserve better.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Because even though he sucks sometimes, he’s never cared about anyone half as much as he cares about you. He’s always had your back.”

“That’s what you do when your an Avenger.”

“No, I mean he literally begs people to check up on you, to look after you, hell, he convinced Steve to give you a chance.”

“I didn’t ask for him to do any of those things, and look how well my thing with Steve ended.”

“He cares more about you than he does his best friend, that’s what came between them. You’re special, he didn’t intentionally fuck this up, that’s just what you get when you fall in love with him. So please, for the love of god, take him back, so that I never have to do this again. I will pay you to go on this date. Name your price.”

“One million.”

“I was thinking more like $50.”

“I’m not going to dinner.”

“Just, don’t drink too much, okay?”

“I know. Goodbye Sam.”

“Bye.” Once he leaves, you get right back to self-medicating. The drinks start to taste less and less like alcohol. You know your limits, and you use that knowledge to drink as much as you can without blacking out. When you finally cut yourself off, you realize it’s time for dinner. But there’s no way you’re going. Even drunk you knows that’s a bad idea. 

Bucky clouds your mind, like the virus he is. How do you even explain your feelings toward him? He’s just, he won’t get out of your head. You kinda wanna go to dinner. Wait, what? No you don’t, let him be so embarrassed like you were. But he’s so hot, and good at sex. No, shut up brain. And you love him. Well, that you can’t deny. No matter what you tell yourself, that will always be true. Fuck it, fuck reasoning, you are going to stop him from going. You don’t want him in pain like you are. 

You practically sprint to his room, trying to catch him before he leaves. You run into him in the hallway with his room. “James, don’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s humiliating.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do. I still love you, I don’t want you to go through with this.”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” 

“Not even if I let you fuck me?” You put on your best pouty face.

“What?”

“Not even if I suck your dick?”

“Y/n, stop it.”

“Not even if I call you daddy?”

“How, how did you know I like that?”

“I didn’t, but I do now.”

“Shut up.”

“Guess you’re just gonna have to punish me, daddy.” All of a sudden, you’re pushed against the wall, caged in, and getting really turned on.

“You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one.”

“Do your worst.” His lips are on yours in an instant, and it’s a filthy kiss, just tongue and teeth. You yelp as Bucky pulls away and throws you over his shoulder. Once you get inside his room, he walks to the bed and tosses you onto it. 

“Take your clothes off, underwear too.” You do as he said, feeling self-conscience under his dark gaze. “Good girl, now I’m gonna sit down, and you’re gonna lay across my legs.” Crawling onto his lap, you cry out as he smacks his hand across your ass. 

“What the fuck?” Another hit.

“You begged me to do this with your bad behavior. I can’t just let you get away with whatever. I’m gonna make you my obedient little slut, it’s time you learn a lesson or two. But if you feel uncomfortable, just say the word ‘red’ and I will stop.” Once again, you’re struck. “After every spank, I’m gonna need you to say ‘thank you, daddy’. You got that?”

“James, that’s humiliating.” He puts all of his strength into the next blow.

“That’s not my name princess, now what do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy.” You reluctantly mumble.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You scream.

“Good fucking girl. Now we’re gonna do that 20 more times.” 

When your punishment is finally over, your eyes are puffy and your face is soaked. “It’s over honey, you did so good.” He helps you straddle him, kissing your tears away. You lay your head on his shoulder, wishing this feeling will last forever. He lies down, maneuvering your limp body so that you can use his still clothed chest as a pillow. You’re super drowsy, from the alcohol and spanking, and before long, you fall into a deep slumber.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Rev. 22:20 - Chapter Two: Martyr

Warnings: Talk of religion, unhappy family circumstances, male masturbation. Word count: ~2.5k

Summary: Aemond keeps a promise to Helaena and makes a confession.

Main series masterlist.

Author's note: I do not have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications to be updated when I post a fic. Community labels are for cops.

For the next seven days, the young woman he’d seen in the Sept is all Aemond can think of. He has never heard her voice and has no idea of what her name is, yet the image of her beauty is burned into his mind like a brand.

When he trains in the yard and the sunlight reflects upon his blade, he thinks of how her hair had shone in the dappled light of the windows as she’d moved about the Chancel. When he retires to the library to read, and the pages of his book slip between his fingers, he thinks about how delicately hers had wrapped around the wick she’d used to light the candles.

Perhaps they’d appear just as dainty when wrapped around his manhood.

He thinks of her when they bow their heads in prayer before supper, of how his eye had met hers as he’d left the Sept. He wonders if she thinks of him.

Do her thoughts wander to him, as her hand drifts between her legs?

She dominates his thoughts as he strokes himself to completion - a much more frequent occurrence since laying his eye upon her - he imagines spreading her out upon the altar, her wanton cries echoing off of the domed ceiling of the Sept as he spears her open with his cock. He drives himself to release after frenzied release, spilling over his knuckles and wishing it was deep inside of her instead.

Even in sleep, she gives him no respite. He dreams of her beckoning him to touch her, yet every time he reaches for her she slips away, always a hair’s breadth too far for him to grab. He wakes up each time sweating and painfully hard.

By the time Alicent’s weekly visit to the Grand Sept is upon him once more he almost doesn’t want to go. He fears that the reality of her will never live up to all of the ways in which he’s fantasised about her, that she will not be as ethereal as he remembers and he will leave disappointed, his illusion shattered.

Yet at the same time, the need to see her again is all consuming. He feels he may go mad if he doesn’t have the opportunity to look upon her face, to reassure himself that she is real and not something he has imagined. He longs for the opportunity to hear her speak, to know if her voice is as beautiful coming from her mouth as it is in his head.

The decision is made for him when Helaena asks that he visit the Dragonpit when accompanying their mother to the Sept. She has not seen Dreamfyre since giving birth to the twins, and misses her dearly. Though she knows the Keepers will be taking good care of her, she would like the reassurance of Aemond having seen her to put her mind at ease.

He agrees, wondering if the big, blue she-dragon will be filled with as much fury to see him as she was when he’d pestered her as a child, eager to see if she might have laid an egg for him to claim. He has Vhagar now, so he hopes not; his intentions are not quite so intrusive, and his mind is otherwise occupied.

As the carriage rolls through King’s Landing, Aemond is filled with restless energy, overwhelmed by the urge to burst into laughter with how rapidly his pulse races and the way his thoughts blur together, too quickly for them to be coherent. He purses his lips, remaining outwardly stoic, the drumming of his fingers upon his leg the only indication that he feels ill at ease.

“Did you hear me, Aemond?” Alicent leans over, brows knitted together in concern and mild irritation.

He startles out of his thoughts, her face swimming into focus as he finally looks at her. “Hm?”

She sighs, leaning back and smoothing her hands over her skirts. “I said, I need to speak with the Septas today. We must appoint one to aid Helaena with the care of the twins.”

Aemond simply nods, thinking it was barely worth the effort to listen to. He has no interest in talking to any of the withered old crones his mother will likely end up conversing with.

Casting his eye around the Sept as they enter, the crushing disappointment he experiences upon not seeing her is enough to drive him to violent rage.

How dare she not be here when he has spent the entire week thinking of nothing else?

The urge to topple the idols, tear down the tapestries and break apart the candlesticks has Aemond’s fingers flexing at his sides. Instead, he exhales sharply through his nose, clenching his jaw and stalking away as his mother takes up her position of prayer. He is in no mood to pretend to pray today.

He paces the sept, his eye fixed upon the tapestries, though he does not comprehend the images they depict, too engrossed in his own thoughts as he tries to calm his temper and pounding heartbeat.

Perhaps it is for the best that she is not here. He has likely misremembered her beauty, built her up in his mind to a standard which is simply unattainable. Even if she were here, what could he say to her? He is a Prince and she is a woman of faith, the two are destined for very different life paths.

Still, it does not stop the ache inside of him that yearns for her. He ponders on what her name could be, if her hair feels as silky as it looks, if the smooth skin of her cheek would be as soft as he imagines it to be. He imagines how the plushness of her lips would take shape as they round out the syllables of his name, coated in his spend.

He loses all track of time, as he wanders, fingertips grazing the stone pillars, until he is broken out of his reverie by the voice of his mother. His own curiosity gets the better of him and he steps closer, wanting to listen in.

She stands talking with one of the Septas, leathery skinned and sour faced, but it is not that that captures his attention, beside them is her. Her shiny hair and bright eyes are just as perfect as he’d remembered - no - better. His imagination is not capable of conjuring such a vision.

From the way she looks between Alicent and the Septa it is clear they are talking about her, and he does his best to hear what they’re saying.

“...as part of her training, she hears confession each day during the hour of the crow–”

His eye widens. She takes confession. He would have the opportunity to speak to her, if only he can delay his return to the Keep by an hour. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears as he struggles to regulate his breathing, and then he remembers his promise to Helaena before he had left earlier that day. He has the perfect excuse, and his mother’s hatred of the Dragonpit means she is unlikely to hang around.

When he feels Alicent’s gentle touch upon his elbow, the softness of her voice enquiring as to whether he is ready to leave, he turns to face her, taking her hands into his, doing his best to sound apologetic.

“Forgive me, Mother. I made a promise to Helaena to check on Dreamfyre for her, and I had quite forgotten. Return home without me, I am unsure of how long I will be.”

Alicent’s mouth tightens in displeasure and she sighs. “Very well. I’ll have the carriage sent back for you once I return.”

He nods, thanking her and watching her go, before making his way to the Dragonpit.

He has not been here since he was a boy, he has had no need to since claiming Vhagar. She is much too large to be confined here and he himself is struck by how less vast it seems now that he is a grown man and no longer a child.

The dustiness and dank smell takes him back to the day that Aegon and his nephews had presented him with ‘The Pink Dread’ and he scowls at the memory, remembering how they’d laughed as his cheeks had burned hot with humiliation.

He shakes the thought away, making his way towards the tunnel in which he remembers his sister’s dragon prefers to nest. He wonders if Aegon has checked in on her for Helaena since she made him a father. He knows Aegon must come here for Sunfyre, but if that were the case then why would Helaena ask Aemond to look in on her? Another of Aegon’s failings. Too selfish to accompany their mother to the Sept, too thoughtless to check upon the wellbeing of his wife’s dragon.

The last time Aemond had intruded upon Dreamfyre’s rest, she had roared at him, shooting fire towards him and causing him to stagger backwards. This time she is subdued, remaining curled upon the earthen floor, one cat-like eye regarding him reproachfully.

“What is wrong with her?” Aemond asks the Keeper.

“She is missing her rider, Your Grace,” he responds, leaning heavily on his staff, “It has been many months since Princess Helaena has ridden her.”

Aemond cannot help the pity he feels for the poor creature. “She will return soon,” he says, “The birth was a difficult one and she is still recovering, but my mother is enlisting help for the care of the babes, so Dreamfyre will have her rider back soon enough.”

He departs with a nod towards the Keeper, unsure of what to tell Helaena. It would crush his sister to know that her dragon is suffering in her absence, though he senses she is probably already aware of that, otherwise she would not have asked him to check. Perhaps she will feel better if he simply tells her that her dragon is eager to have her back.

The idea is pushed from his mind as he reenters the Sept and sees her making her way towards the confessional box. Commonfolk have yet to gather, so if he hurries he will get to be her first of the day.

His stones ache and his throat runs dry at the thought that he will finally hear her voice, finally speak to her. It strikes him as he walks towards the box that he has no idea of what he will confess, so fixated on the notion of speaking with her he has not even begun to think about what he might say.

It is too late to ponder on it as he finds himself seated on a wooden stool, the latticed opening in the centre of the box obscures her from his view and he despises it, wanting nothing more than to look upon her face as he speaks to her, to watch her pretty mouth as she talks to him.

“Blessings be upon thee,” comes her soft voice through the partition, “Are you here to confess?”

His chest tightens at the dulcet tones, it is as though he has forgotten how to breathe. He knew her voice would be every bit as lovely as she appears, but he never imagined it so sweet. His eye flutters closed, as he imagines how it would sound moaning his name, the slight upward lilt of how she would sound out the first syllable.

Aemond draws in an unsteady breath. “Y-yes, I am here to confess.”

“Then unburden yourself to me, and be cleansed of your sins.” She invites gently.

I’d martyr my own mother to ride through all seven Hells between your thighs.

He swallows thickly, thinking of something innocuous he can tell her that won’t identify him to her. “I-I covet what my brother has, and I am resentful that as first born he is given everything and squanders it.”

There is a slight pause before she replies. “You must pray to The Smith for the strength to overcome your jealous nature.”

Aemond bites back the urge to chuckle. 

Utter nonsense. 

But he is enjoying talking to her, and he is eager to continue. He realises that he wants her to know who he is, to be aware that there is a Targaryen Prince seated beside her, so he presses on.

“I harbour ill intent towards my nephew. I have never forgiven him for taking my eye. I wish for his in exchange.”

He hears her breathe in suddenly. She knows. How could she not?

Her tone is slightly unsure as she advises him, clearly rattled by what he has said. “Pray…pray to the Father for the wisdom to accept the justice you will never receive, and to the Warrior to have the valour to forgive such a slight.”

Aemond smirks at this.

Never.

He is beginning to enjoy himself, however, so he continues.

“I have been having lustful thoughts…about a woman, a novice from this very Sept.”

He hears her breaths begin to become more rapid and feels pride swell within his chest.

“I imagine taking her virtue on the very altar to which the people of King’s Landing offer up their prayers, I think about how she’d feel writhing beneath me as I rut into her, I–”

“P-please…” Her voice is trembling, her breathing ragged.

The reality of the situation hits Aemond like an icy jolt and he knows he has gone too far, he has frightened the poor girl.

Not giving her a moment to say anything else, he hurries from the confessional box. His leather boots echo off of the flagstones as he makes his way back out onto the street with long strides, grateful to see the carriage ready and waiting for him.

Despite the shame that blooms heavy within his chest, he strains against his breeches, the thrill of his confession heating his blood in a steady thrum. 

The moment his chamber doors close, his cock is in his fist bringing himself to the edge with thoughts of everything he’d described to her, the sound of her voice, the image of her lips wrapped around him. As his breaths become less controlled he pauses, struck by recognition at the similarity in pace and depth, and that is finally what pushes him into oblivion, spilling over his knuckles with a strangled groan. He recognised those laboured breaths, breaths of pleasure, breaths of a salacious nature.

Had she been touching herself to what he’d been telling her?