#and they would receive him with open arms no matter how much time has passed

[thousand-winters]

I will never not be absolutely gutted at the fact that Soren grew up in a world that hated him, alone and scared, and turned into someone deeply untrusting when all along he had a family that loved him. Loved him enough to sacrifice themselves for a chance to save him.

He had a mother that never stopped loving him and uncles that would have adored him, did adore him. And he never knew them and they never found him.

It kills me that they loved him. It's so unfair that they love him and he never knew.

[harrysloveboat]

John B’s Girl | JJ Maybank Fic

Summary: JJ Maybank was absolutely screwed. So detrimentally screwed. John B was going to actually end him. The blonde haired surfer had a thing for his best friend’s girl, (Y/N) Cameron. And when JJ notices something he shouldn’t, all bets are off.

Word Count: 6.8K, (18+, Minors DNI, Mature Audience)

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, choking, semi-public sex, cheating, dirty talking, thigh riding, car sex, mention of toys, alcohol, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), degrading, Dark!JJ, JJxReader, John BxReader, Cameron!Reader, sprinkles of fluff included, I think I might’ve made Dark!John B too by accident, etc.

Please read warnings before continuing. Really tempted to make a second part if anyone wants it! The ending kinda makes me think a second part is just necessary. Mostly unedited.

Constructive criticism and requests open on my page. I write about Harry, 5SOS, Outer Banks, and TSITP! Thank you x

It’s been an entire week of watching (Y/N) Cameron unraveling before JJ’s blue eyes.

JJ has no idea how the girl got herself into this predicament, and he certainly doesn’t understand how he’s been the only one out of his friends to notice what’s been going on between John B and his girlfriend.

Actually he does understand why, but he refuses to admit it. How could he ever come clean about the way his body ached when she was near? Or how his heart thumped out of his chest when she would accidentally brush her bare skin against his during hot summer days on the H.M.S. Pogue. Even the tender way she’d brush loose strands of blonde hair from his forehead in passing would send shocks of electricity to every corner of his body.

But this annoyingly long week was painfully different from the rest.

(Y/N) had done something on Monday.

JJ wasn’t sure what, but he knew something she had done had sent John B off the deep end. Because for the whole day, John B wouldn’t spare a kind glance her way. No matter how many times she’d initiate a conversation, nudge his arm, intertwine their hands, or even sit on his lap, John B was an absolute rock. His responses were short and curt and his eyes would focus on anything but her.

The next day is when John B really enacted his revenge.

(Y/N) was doing everything she could to get back into his good graces. That morning, she woke up early to stop at the grocery store. Buying so many things that JB’s fridge was fully stocked when she returned.

Breakfast was her first attempt. There was bacon crisping in the oven, sending a mouthwatering aroma to every Pogue in The Chateau. She was scrambling eggs on the stovetop for everyone, with a smaller pan on the side that contained eggs with cheese. By the time the toast was popping out of the toaster oven, everyone had come alive with growling stomachs.

JJ and Pope had dug right in, surprised but also very wonderfully pleased by the first home cooked meal they’d had in a while. Kie had given her a big hug first, requesting that (Y/N) wake her up next time to lend her a hand. But even as John B was served his favorite eggs with cheese for just him, he gave them the tiniest nibble, before pushing his plate away.

“Not hungry,” he shrugged moving on to a refreshing morning shower instead with even as much as a sympathetic glance back.

Kie and Pope were lost in conversation, but JJ had been a witness to it all. More than anything, he noticed the way her entire demeanor deflated as John B stalked off. The excited glint in her eyes was extinguished in haste. The crinkles at the corner of her eyes vanished alongside her smile. His heart squeezed at the sight. JJ had wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms and pepper her with millions of soft, thankful kisses. Nothing she could’ve done would’ve been enough for JJ to evoke the same reaction out of her if she was his.

That afternoon, however, is when things took a completely opposite direction.

Energized by their hearty breakfast, they all decided it was a perfect sunny day to do some fishing and swimming. Kie and Pope had canonballed into the clear blue water when it happened. JJ was grabbing a beer from the cooler as (Y/N) sat next to John B who was laying on a towel, perched at the front of the boat.

She had leaned down to speak something privately into his ear. Except he shook his head, face devoid of any emotion. “You’ve been a bad girl (Y/N). You don’t deserve any attention,” his hushed dismissal was the only thing JJ managed to catch. The pout on her plump lips and furrowed eyebrows told JJ everything he needed to know. The gears clicked together in his head almost too quickly.

(Y/N), out of all people, had a praise kink that John B was currently exploiting.

The realization went straight to his crotch, his swimming trunks horribly constricting for the entire day. It made so much sense. She aimed to please, getting so excited when someone was happy with something she did. He honestly felt foolish for not catching on sooner. If someone asked JJ if he jacked off to her sweet voice begging him to destroy her in his imagination, he would immediately deny it.

By Wednesday, JJ was hooked.

There was no conversation that could capture his focus for long. Every moment of his time was devoted to her. The urges JJ had to rush to her and be her new source of comfort were becoming overwhelming but so was the need to bend her over any flat surface. He was on the verge of being diagnosed as bipolar with the amount of times his mood would swing. Every disheartened expression or bite of a lip had JJ physically twitching to remedy her frustration. But anytime she’d sit on John B’s lap and search for forgiveness with gentle touches and suggestive whispers, JJ would have to excuse himself to hide the new semi he was sporting.

(Y/N) and John B cuddled together during a movie night on Thursday evening. JJ thought for a split second that (Y/N) had finally wormed her way through John B’s walls. It didn’t even make sense to him how his best friend had managed to hold out for so long when she was completely irresistible. A little part of him was curious to know what she had done that originally started this. What had angered JB enough to drag this punishment out? By the relaxed tone throughout the movie, he figured he’d never get the answer to that question. At least he’d be able to go back to regular conversations instead of consistently excusing himself to the restroom.

But of course, JJ never seems to catch a break.

Kie had disappeared from the living room at some point to sleep in the guest bedroom. Choosing a comfortable bed over morning neck pain. Pope was on the couch, mouth drooling onto the cushion that was propped under his head. JJ had been basically forced into the sleeping bag on the floor with one measly pillow. Aside from the discomfort of the wooden floor, he had managed to fall into a deep sleep. There was a sudden noise lulling him awake.

Soft, harsh pants stirred him from his dreams.

The movie was still playing on the screen, but the volume had been turned down to leave background noise. Even with the quiet chatter, JJ heard the distinct, “please John B,” that fell from (Y/N)‘s lips followed by an angry scoff. His blue eyes peeked open, just the slightest bit, only to feel like he could pass out from what was occurring on the single seat next to the couch.

(Y/N) was sitting on John B’s thigh, hips grinding down at a rapid pace to chase her end. All the while JB was focused on the screen not paying any mind to the horny girl riding him. JJ could see the wet stains on her cheeks, beads of sweat falling down her forehead. She was moving with urgency, obviously close to her orgasm.

“Can’t believe you have the audacity to beg me to touch you after what you did,” John B muttered furiously in response to her. The only crack in his hard interior that let JJ know he was affected by (Y/N)’s actions was the tight grip at her hip. His other hand was lazily holding the remote on the beige armrest to exaggerate his disinterest. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry,” she pleaded as her hips faltered. The closer she got to her end, the haze in her mind would betray her. Slowing her movements just as she was on the verge of falling into the abyss and traitorously bringing her back.

He snicked at her, feeling her feeble attempts to get herself off on his thigh. She had wet through her panties hours ago, drenching John B’s thigh and the inner corners of hers. Her apologies were falling on deaf ears. “I’m not helping you. You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum when you’ve been such a bad girl. Sluts like you don’t deserve it.” His filthy words were what did it. Instead of being put off by them, the quickening of her pace and quiet whine that escaped her lips let JJ know that she enjoyed being degraded.

(Y/N)’s movement came to a sharp halt, thighs squeezing around John B as her orgasm washed over her in waves. Her entire body tensed up, face twisting in pleasure. Underneath the over-sized t-shirt her shoulders shook slightly. For the sake of not being caught by the others, it took all her strength to keep the noises at bay while threatening to spill over at any given moment. JJ thinks he might be the one to beg to hear those sounds next. She collapsed against him, scratching at his chest with a small cry when he grinded up against her overstimulated pussy.

JJ didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

He found himself in the shower again hours later, fisting his cock repeatedly until he was cumming harder than he ever thought he could.

Friday night was finally the last nail hammered into his coffin.

The party was booming, every Kook, Pogue, and Touron joining together for an epic get together at the Boneyard. Alcohol was influencing the rager, people dancing around the bonfire with high spirits. They had all ridden in the Twinkie together but gradually dispersed throughout the night. Pope was trying, and failing, to flirt with a brown-haired Touron who was too drunk to understand. She was cute but clueless. Kie was dancing in the crowd with John B, enjoying the music and winding down from an eventful day at The Wreck. She was oblivious to the fact that the nonchalant guy in front of her wasn’t paying a lick of attention.

JJ was leaning against a palm tree, crushing a can of beer in his hand. He had been in a fowl mood all day, snapping at everyone over the smallest of inconveniences. He couldn’t help it, nothing he had done was able to satisfy his persistent hard-on. Any time (Y/N) was within his eyesight, even momentarily, all the blood would rush down between his legs. Every hair flip made JJ want to grab it into a ponytail and tug hard. Inches of exposed skin silently requesting to be marked by his teeth. JJ was so sexually frustrated that he was honestly considering taking some girl home tonight.

The idea was tempting as his blue irises raked through the crowd. There were some good options available. Sophie, his old friends with benefits, had been eyeing him all night. A red haired girl had flirted with him when he retrieved his second beer. Shit there was even a drunk Kook that had been throwing herself at him if push came to shove. Still, none of them were what he actually craved deep in his bones. Subconsciously, JJ found the girl he had been really after.

(Y/N) was seated on a log in front of the fire wearing a white flowy dress that ended at the middle of her thighs. It had two straps at the top that tied behind her neck. She was free of make-up, her natural features mesmerizing JJ even from a distance. Her silky hair was blowing past her shoulders in the soft night breeze.

The fire lit up her face with hues of red and orange. Her head was tilted up slightly, eyes sealed shut. She seemed distracted, mind far away from the craziness surrounding her. JJ’s head shifted to the side in curiosity as he noted the odd behavior. He watched as (Y/N) pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down harshly. Her hands had a death-like grip on the wood below her. Something was clearly wrong.

A surge of worry passed by JJ, wondering if the girl was okay. This week had been rougher on her than any of the other Pogues knew. He was the only one besides John B that was aware of the inner turmoil she was experiencing. This meant, Kie, (Y/N)’s best friend and confidante wasn’t clued into this secret that JJ had unintentionally stumbled upon. There was no way she could know the girl needed somebody. Deciding that he needed to take it upon himself to check up on her, JJ’s legs moved before his brain did.

He took a couple of strides in her direction with no decipherable sentence coming to mind. JJ had to think a little more instead of acting on a whim. He found comfort for his nerves in the red hat being snugly placed on his hair backwards before finally sitting down next to her. “Hey, you okay?” JJ’s tone held more compassion than usual, opting to rip off the band aid. Their normal playful banter was replaced by genuine emotion that JJ was struggling to contain.

(Y/N) didn’t even notice him sit until his voice was bringing her back from the pleasure she was floating off into. Her eyes were dark, filled with lust as they landed on JJ’s. Now that he was actually sitting next to her, able to properly focus and analyze her behavior, the color drained from his face as he became all too aware. Her thighs were pressed together tightly, nails digging into the wood. (Y/N) was breathing heavily, vibrations from the plug John B had inserted before leaving The Chateau were teasing her. Her boyfriend held the remote to the stupid thing and he had been turning it off and on all night. Sometimes she’d be in a casual conversation and have to excuse herself because he’d purposefully turn on the highest setting. Even making her spill a little bit of beer down her chin in front of Kie.

By now, (Y/N) was desperate. She was squirming in her seat, holding back the pornographic moans this device had taken her to. After withholding sex from her the entire week and choosing to insert this new toy he had purposefully disappeared earlier to buy, she was like a rabid animal. The intensity of repeatedly being brought to the brink and then cut off had broken any sense of normalcy she had managed to maintain. The fiery passion in her eyes was undeniable. “I-I’m okay- yeah,” (Y/N) practically squeaked out, one hand moving to crumble the hem of her dress in a fist.

John B was insatiable from where he stood. Although he was well aware of the state he had led his girlfriend into, just the sight of JJ sitting next to her set him off. His hand reached into his jean pocket, clasping the cheap plastic and turning on the max speed with several clicks to the plus sign on the right. It was stupid and idiotic, but the jealousy that flared didn’t let him act clearly.

(Y/N) tried to contain a gasp as her body jumped slightly at the sudden change. She knew exactly what John B was doing. He was marking his territory in front of JJ, who by the look in his face obviously knew what was going on. Without an inkling about how JJ felt, John B was still going out of his way to prove (Y/N) was his. Making her cum inches away from his best friend.

JJ knew it. Saw her eyes roll to the back, her mouth drop open and nose scrunch up. The pleasure overcame her body. The orgasm ripped through her body after being edged for so long. Her toes curled as John B forced her to ride out her high in front of him with no mercy. She was unable to hide the twitch of her thighs. Tears from the pleasure mixed in with embarrassment. JJ was frozen, rock solid in his cargo shorts. His face gave nothing away except his acknowledgment of the situation. The words to describe the hunger he felt had yet to be invented. At the same time his outrage at John B’s intentional deed simmered over.

The tension in the air was palpable with deafening silence consuming them. There was no ounce of awkwardness with the way both of them were stuck in their heads. She swallowed hard, looking away as her bottom lip trembled. Seeing as John B had no intentions of turning it off, only lowering the setting, she chose to retreat. There was no explanation that could hide or sugarcoat the truth. (Y/N) got up muttering an unintelligible excuse before she was disappearing behind the fire with a walk of shame.

JJ’s entire body was hot with adrenaline and need. A primal need to fuck the girl into oblivion was no longer in his control. The pure desire radiating off her body had pushed JJ past the boundary of respect. John B smirking victoriously towards Kie did nothing to aid JJ, only encouraged him to follow in the path that (Y/N) had headed towards.

She had found safety next to the Twinkie, crying freely into the crease of her elbow against the window. The vibrator was still going, overstimulating her yet she knew better than to take it out without being told to. John B had gone too far, giving in to the green eyed monster that veered his head. Her body was almost clinging to the van at this point when calloused fingers ran up the back of her thigh.

The warm touch alerted her to the presence of somebody behind her. (Y/N)’s back arched slightly on instinct, finally getting what she was craving. She felt so depraved, so starved. Just a simple graze had goosebumps spreading like wildfire. “John B- please- I-I can’t anymore. Take it out,” she cried pathetically, begging for some form of release.

JJ groaned at the tone of her voice, so ready and desperate. It was taking all his willpower to not bend her over right now and ram himself inside of her. Without speaking, his hand continued to travel up her thigh painfully slow. In her daze she missed the hesitancy in the touch that would’ve been hasty and quick had it been John B. His eyes were trained on the dress that was hiking up, exposing a delicious set of red lace panties. Precum stained his boxers just from the sight. JJ grabbed a handful of her ass cheek tightly, reveling in the way she pushed her ass out to him and whined.

“I’m gonna warn you right now (Y/N). If I’m the one that takes it out, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re going to forget what his name is,” JJ growled into her ear, hot breath washing over her hypersensitive skin. (Y/N) recognized the voice immediately, feeling the cold rings that belonged to this particular Pogue cooling her ass through the pain of the grip. Her forehead fell onto the window, a pitiful whimper responding to JJ’s offer. It was wrong, so so wrong. But the bulge pressing into her ass had her eyes fluttering shut.

JJ’s logic had quite literally left planet Earth. The only thing on his mind was her. The fear of rejection wasn’t even present. His hand confidently found a home in the curve of her hip, squeezing it tightly as he ground his cock into her ass pushing her further against the van. They both moaned, any hesitation fully dissipating with the wind.

“Take it out- take it out JJ,” she gasped, his name sounding like heaven as it fell from her lips. His new mission was to hear her scream it. JJ moved with newfound purpose, flipping her over harshly before he crouched down. “Hold your dress up and spread your legs,” the dominant tone of JJ’s voice sent a new rush of slickness down her thighs.

This was JJ, her boyfriends best friend, pulling down her panties in one swift move and licking his lips ready to devour her. “JJ please,” she was so vocal, feeding into his own filthy nature. What really almost made him cum in his black boxers was the sight before him. Her pussy was glistening, wrapped tightly around the softly buzzing vibrator. Her clit was swollen, puckering and aching. He licked his lips, imprinting this image in his brain.

JJ grabbed onto the end of it, teasingly pulling it out of her and back in which earned him a breathless moan. Her hips pushed down against it automatically, chasing the feeling. “You’ve been such a good girl all night, taking it so well,” JJ’s words had her free hand gripping the handle to the door. Without even letting her process it, his fingers were replacing the vibrator which found solace in JJ’s back pocket.

He shoved two fingers in deep, coating them with her previous orgasm in a matter of seconds. JJ nudged every corner, hitting every spot reachable in this position. He moved with skill, determination clear in the way his lips wrapped around her nub and sucked. (Y/N)’s breath was knocked out of her lungs at the sensation. Her jaw slacks from the pleasure as the spark at the pit of her belly grows into an untamable fire. JJ moved like a man who needed this to survive. He flattened his tongue against her clit, the tip poking into the entrance where his fingers were sliding in and out with ease. Finally tasting her sweetness forced a moan to ripple through him and into her.

(Y/N)’s head fell back against the window hard enough to hurt and yet she didn’t feel it at all. All her senses were hyper focused on the man between her legs. Each flicker of his tongue would make her knees go out. She would’ve been on the ground already had it not been for JJ’s hand digging into her thigh to keep her up as well as open. A particular curve of his finger had a high pitched noise tumbling out. JJ didn’t miss a beat, continuing with a new rhythm as he memorized what made her walls clench around him.

“I-I’m gonna- JJ, fuck,” she couldn’t even finish her sentence but he knew exactly what she was going to say. Everything became blurry, her chest heaving from the change in his movements. The muscles in her thighs tense, attempting to close subconsciously but JJ refuses to let them. His fingers dig into her thigh so hard they’ll be bruises in the shape of his hand tomorrow. Her climax was rapidly approaching, knot tightening in her abdomen.

His tongue circled her relentlessly. Everything wrong with what they were doing secretly inflamed her heat. (Y/N)’s mind went hazy from the increasing thrusts of his fingers. The pleasure exploding inside of her in a gut twisting way. JJ watched her face twist from the blissful waves causing her eyes to close. The intensity made her mind go blank as a string of curses were spoken. He forced her to ride out her high by lapping up everything that landed on his tongue. He savored the taste, unforgivingly continuing until her body was shaking from the stimulation.

(Y/N) didn’t even get a break. She was unable to catch a breath with JJ’s merciless assault. Her hand moved from the door to his head, pushing the cap off in favor of grabbing his blonde hair. He finally eased up when he was satisfied, pulling his mouth away and not hesitating to lick his lips. “Taste so fucking good princess,” JJ breathed out while his fingers gradually came to a stop. She squeezed his hair, a whimper coming out. It was hard to believe this was JJ Maybank below her, eyes gleaming after eating her out alive.

He stood up, moving the hand that had left imprints to fist her loose hair and tilt her head up. “Suck it off my fingers,” he demanded. The authoritative tone left her with no option but to open her mouth. Her tongue slipped between the two fingers sucking them clean without breaking eye contact. JJ’s already darkening eyes were pitch black now, hints of blue disappearing at her eagerness.

“You like that don’t you? Sucking your cum off my fingers. Wonder how your little boyfriend would feel if he saw you right now,” JJ taunted her. Tears brimmed the edges of her eyes but her thighs moved to shut. JJ’s knee shot out before they could, grinding up against her overly sensitive mound. He was rewarded with a delicious moan that reminded him of his leaking member that was still trapped. “Say it princess. Whose gonna fuck you and make you cum a second time in a row?” The fingers that were in her mouth moved to wrap around her throat. He gave her the freedom to speak, his forehead dangerously close to hers. Their lips could meet if she moved just a little closer. The curiosity to find out what kissing him would feel like distracted her. The soft squeeze at her throat broke her out of the trance, reminding her to respond.

(Y/N) nodded for no reason, hips pushing down against JJ’s thigh to show how much she still wanted him. “You JJ. You’re gonna fuck me and make me cum again. Please- want it so bad, want your cock inside of me,” the neediness in her tone sent JJ into a frenzy. No imagination could come close to the real thing. His neck shot forward, their lips molding together in a passionate kiss. They moved in sync while JJ’s hand slid down, pulling at the strings of her dress to undo the knot in a swift move. His hand skimmed further down, kneading and squeezing every inch of her skin from her curves to her ass.

She was mewling in his mouth, every caress weakening her. It was hard to feel guilty with the way the rough pads of his fingers ran across her scorching hot skin. Her hands moved to unbutton his shorts falling prey to her desires. “Need it J,” the sincerity is what snapped him back into action.

JJ untangled their bodies to open the Twinkie, taking her hand so that she was standing in front of him and could go in first. Without saying it, he placed his palm at the center of her back. A soft push let her know to get onto all fours on the soft fabric of the seats. The van door slammed shut behind them before he was shoving his clothes off with urgency. A thought lit up like a light bulb inside his head as he finished undressing.

“If you want me to give you what needy sluts like you deserve, you need to answer my question,” JJ stated seriously as his hands tucked under the top of her dress. Now with the strap off, he was able to peel off the dress from top to bottom. The panties that had only been able to reach her mid thigh before JJ lost it, slipped off alongside the dress. Confusion settled into (Y/N)’s expression. Her right cheek was pressed into the seat, only getting a small glimpse of JJ’s face. “I’ll answer anything JJ please,” the apprehension as to what the question could be was drowned out by the throbbing between her legs. The anticipation was eating her alive and he was on an unholy plight to push every single one of her buttons.

JJ smirked devilishly while leaning down to press his bare chest against her back. His cock was standing up, solid from days of built up tension. He slid between her wet folds, earning moans from the both of them. “What did you do that made John B so mad?” He whispered into her ear before resting his forehead on the back of her head. His lips ghosted over the skin at the nape of her neck sending chills down her spine. It took a moment for her to put together what he was saying. The realization dawned on her face, unable to admit what he wanted to hear. JJ’s suspicion grew with the way her breathing stuttered.

“Doesn’t matter J, just fuck me,” she attempted to sway him away from the topic but being told to ignore it only made him more persistent. “Ah, ah,” he tsked in a disapproving tone. JJ moved his hips to continue teasing her, gradually sliding between her lips and get himself wet with all her juices. He’d move so far down that his tip would just barely nudge against her hole and then proceed to slide back. His hands disappeared around (Y/N)’s sides, grabbing hold of her breasts and massaging them roughly. His fingertips found her already hardened nipples, tugging and pulling to get his point across. “You want me to fuck your tight cunt? You’re gonna have to tell me sweet girl. Because I’ll walk away right now.”

(Y/N) whined in frustration. JJ’s attempts to make her comply worked all to well. Her heart was racing with impatience and every nerve ending was shot. She could feel just how long and big he was. It made her tighten pathetically around nothing. She wanted to cry to express the distress she was feeling. His hands played at her nipples, fogging her mind up even further. A high pitched noise waved the white flag as she gave in to his attack. The risk of JJ leaving right now outweighed the shitstorm that inevitably followed the truth. “I flirted with you Sunday night.”

JJ paused, his hope flourishing into fact. What JJ had deemed a concocted idea was in fact more than just a sexually fueled imagination.

(Y/N) walked into the kitchen, hair wet from a recent shower. Despite an exhausting day surfing at the beach, she still managed to walk with a bounce in her step and a smile on her lips. Her attitude was always contagious and distracting. “Hey J, not coming out for the movie?” she questioned, digging into the freezer. All the Pogues were camped out in the living room to watch a new movie while JJ was perched on the counter top with a beer in hand.

He ran his fingers through his hair, watching as she pulled out the last chocolate fudge bar which halted his answer. His eyebrow raised as she whirled around to him. She removed the plastic casing with no rush in the world, before wrapping her plump lips around the bar. JJ’s blue eyes trailed downwards, captivated by the way she bobbed her head up and down in such a suggestive way. Her question was long forgotten with a lick of his dry lips.

“That’s my bar,” JJ stated avoiding a comment on the affect her actions were having on him. He was also technically correct. Nobody else ate the fudge bars except for him. Although, he had been noticing that he was reaching the end of the box quicker than normal. Apparently he discovered the culprit. It was hard to actually take it seriously though, not when he could swear there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. Like she purposefully put on a show for him.

(Y/N) simply tilted her head to side biting her bottom lip. “And what are you going to do about it?” The question was innocent. Yet it sounded so risqué. Like she was tempting him to take it further than that. His muscles twitched to grab her right there. But John B clearing his throat from the kitchen entrance snapped JJ out of whatever that was.

He was too consumed by her lips, her doe eyes, the way her cheeks hollowed around the bar, all of it. JJ had barely noticed John B in that moment. The thought that he might’ve heard or seen anything didn’t even cross JJ’s mind. He just quickly got up and rushed past them to the living room. He had written the whole thing off. It was easier to convince himself that he had probably imagined the whole thing rather than feeding into a delusion where she had actually teased him.

JJ had been so right though. He had read her cues perfectly. Not only had she been flirting with him, but it was also the reason that John B was infuriated. The more he dwelled on the thought, the more his heart thumped louder. They all joked and flirted amongst themselves, John B did with Kie. It was all harmless. So John B getting mad at this moment meant he felt threatened by JJ. Like (Y/N) had given him a reason to worry.

The admission made something snap inside of JJ. A flood of emotions surged forward as the dam he had built to contain them collapsed under the strength of her honesty. He quickly removed his hands from her body to lift himself up. As promised, JJ lined himself up with her slick entrance. Any desire to see her down on her knees would have to be put on hold for next time. There was no way he could put this off any longer. He took just a second to nudge his tip passed the barrier and back to hear the starved whimper that she was unable to hold in. Finding sick pleasure in her shameless need for him. “Please JJ.” Without warning, right after she spoke, he slammed his hips forward. He forget everything except the feeling of being enveloped by velvety tight walls. A loud moan mixed in with a deep groan could be heard from outside the van. He reached deep into her like this, taking her breath away.

The grip around his cock could make him pass out. He muttered an inaudible cuss word, not giving her a second to adjust. JJ pulled out to the tip before shoving himself back inside her and repeating the motion until it grew into a consistent pace. (Y/N) was a broken record of moans and pleas. With every thrust her hips would rut back into him. The anticipation had been replaced with numbing pleasure. Her eyes couldn’t focus on a single thing, completely overwhelmed. His fingers tangled into her hair, shoving her further into the seat.

JJ used the new support to deepen and harden his pace. His hips were jolting into her and sending her forward each time. JJ was failing to hold back, milking every noise out of her sweet lips. The vibrator that was still in the pocket of his shorts that were now located on the floor began to vibrate loudly. JJ smirked viciously, digging into her hip for assistance to ram into her, admiring the way her swollen pussy swallowed his cock in between them. “Do you hear that? John B’s turning up the vibrator while you’re getting stuffed with his best friends cock,” JJ coed before his breath hitched at the tight squeeze his words evoked.

It shouldn’t have turned her on the way it did but she couldn’t help it. Her body reacted before she could. His lewd words reached kinks (Y/N) didn’t even know existed within her. She cried out as his balls slapped against her clit, shooting pangs of intense pleasure up her body. Her legs would be giving out soon, she wouldn’t be able to keep this up. Feeling (Y/N)’s end approaching, JJ fisted her hair and pulled her up against his chest with ease. “Who owns your pretty pussy now (Y/N)?” he panted, his hot breath fanning over the back of her neck at the new proximity.

(Y/N) moaned out loudly as he pounded back into her in this new position. He broke her train of thought before she even had a chance to think of a reply. The hand at her hip smoothed upward, pausing to grope her boob roughly. Her back arched in response with a sharp gasp before he finally landed on her throat. JJ squeezed, digging his fingers into her pressure point and loosening it to remind her to speak. “You JJ. JJ Maybank owns me and my pussy,” (Y/N) yelped hand moving to grip onto the seat while the other reached back into JJ’s blonde locks. JJ growled, increasing his pace when she jumped forward at a certain shift in angle.

Her eyes were glazing over as the fingers at her neck tightened. Their bodies molded together in a matching rhythm. Her hips jutted down to meet every single one of his upward strokes. JJ was using the grip on her neck to lift and slam her back into him. The filthy sounds of their bodies smacking together was the only thing heard in the foggy van. “So fucking tight,” JJ mutters, lips moving to suck a hickey into the back of her neck. Now that he had discovered how close she was with the way her body quivered in his grasp, he wrecked his way inside of her.

Knowing it was a bad idea, (Y/N)‘s head had still tilted to allow him room to mark her. She was a mess of endless mewls and echoed moans, too dazed by the way he was manhandling her. Her end was quickly building, eyes rolling as she fell back onto the curve of his shoulder. His hand left her hair to explore down the middle of her chest. He trailed a finger down her stomach before finally reaching the top of her pussy. His hand cupped her, fingers wrapping around her opening that was still engulfed by his twitching cock. He palmed at her clit, eliciting a loud cry from (Y/N).

“Beg me to make you cum like he can’t,” JJ slowed his hand to show he’d stop in a scarily calm way, making tears spill over from how hopeless she felt. At this point (Y/N) needed the sweet relief as much she needed oxygen in her lungs. “You already made me cum harder than he ever has-,” her breath caught as he dug his palm into her swollen clit at the confession, “I’m all yours JJ- please make me cum.” That was all he needed to apply just enough pressure to leave (Y/N) sputtering. Her eyes went black as the ferocity of her orgasm left her seeing stars. Her entire body writhed from the intensity. JJ groaned at the way her walls tightened around him. She was drifting into clouds of bliss while riding out her high.

It all encouraged him further to his own end. He removed his hand from her beyond sensitive clit to lay her down fully onto her stomach. JJ’s back stayed pressed against her, not slipping out in the slightest bit. With the new position, her walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t refrain from snapping his hips up to bring the unrelenting speed back to life. This time he was chasing his own end, using her warm hole to get himself off. (Y/N) was incoherent under him, utterly fucked out. “That’s it take it,” his hips lost rhythm, “take all my cum,” jerking upwards desperately. He moaned loudly into her ear, thick ropes of his cum painting her insides.

She shuddered feeling him stop as deep as he could go, his cock throbbing with every drop her clenching pussy squeezed out. They were both panting, the temperature in the van was absurdly high. His sweaty body gave out, hiding her naked one under his. She found the weight of it comforting in her post orgasmic fog. It took her a few minutes to properly come back. JJ had leaned up now, pressing electrifying open-mouthed kisses against the dips of her upper back. His hips shifted a little, earning a broken moan from the girl below him.

When he began to move, she leaned back, not wanting to end the fantasy bubble they had created. JJ shushed her with a small smack to her ass that made her jump. Both of them groaned at the sudden movement and he gripped the redden skin where his hand had just spanked. His other hand had vanished under the seat, reaching for vibrator that was still going off wildly. Her pussy spasmed in fear of the vibration inside of her again after the fucking he had just put her through. “Fuck Princess,” JJ hissed almost pinching her ass from the sensitivity.

The one act of kindness JJ had showed (Y/N), was flicking the manual switch to off on the device.

His fingers looped around the end of it, sitting up carefully.

Her ears perked up as the vibrating came to a stop. “JJ what are you doing?” (Y/N)’s shaky, fucked out voice rang through the silence. JJ felt no need to respond pulling out in one swift go. The feeling of emptiness didn’t settle because he was pumping the vibrator back into her, refusing to let any of the evidence vanish. Her muscles tightened, enduring the continued stimulation with a small puff.

“As much as I want to watch my cum drip out of your wrecked cunt..,” JJ’s voice drifted off as his blue irises dropped to the round curve of her ass. He was mesmerized by her worn out body. The marks he had left were giving in to his ego. His hand tenderly rubbed the skin down her back and squeezed at her butt. He’ll never get enough of the feeling.

“You’re gonna keep this vibrator in until John B undresses you at The Chateau. He’s gonna think he’s won, having made you cum in front of me, out of my reach. Then he’s gonna spread your bruised thighs. Shit he’ll even wonder why the vibrator could possibly be turned off. Then when he pulls it out, all of my cum is gonna drip out of his girls pussy for him.”

*****

Read Part 2 here

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please like, comment, or reblog💕

There will probably be 4 or 5 parts to this. If you’d like to be added to the taglist and kept up to date with this mini-series please comment below🫶🏼

[thebearer]

would you ever write something about protective baby daddy carmy, maybe it’s only a few weeks until the baby is born so super big belly and coming to family or making her spend all the time at the restaurant so he doesn’t miss the birth

"Make way, wide corner!" Richie bellowed, arms waving back and forth, guiding you through the kitchen like you were an airplane landing.

You glared at him, a snarl in your expression as you waddled around the corner. It was hot and you were so fucking pregnant, due any day now. "Shut the fuck up, Richie." You huffed, flinching at the heat of the kitchen, a wave of nausea coming over you.

"Richie, leave that poor woman alone. What's the matter with you, huh?" Tina snarled, glaring harshly at Richie. "How're you doin', Mama? How's the baby?" Her tone dropped to something sweeter, kinder for you, hand rubbing over your swollen abdomen. Normally, it bothered you when people touched your bump, but Tina was different. It was comforting with her.

"Miserable. Swollen. Hot." You muttered, looking down at your growing belly where baby girl was still jabbing at your ribs.

"I mean this in the nicest way, but... has the baby grew more since last week?" Sydney's eyes were skittish and wide, darting carefully from your stomach back to you.

You snorted lightly, running a hand over the swell of your abdomen. "She dropped a few days ago. Getting ready for launch." You muttered.

"Oh, that-that's, uh, terrifying." Sydney nodded, awkwardly. "Sorry, that's not what you want to hear, but, uh..."

"No, you're right. It is." You laughed, a little uneasy. It was fucking terrifying, all of it- pregnancy, birth, motherhood in general. It was scary.

"It also is so fucking painful because now everything is heavier and my back feels like it might snap." You gave a fake forced smile.

"Oh, poor Mama. That just means she's close. Only a few more days?" Tina beamed. "How much does she weigh?"

"They think eight pounds." You groaned, Sydney's eye bulging expression.

"Ay dios mio..." Tina muttered under her breath. "Well, you'll be so drugged up, honey, you won't even feel it."

"I'm praying for a C-section." You scoffed lightly. "Carmen's already said he's gonna be a wreck either way."

"Yeah, and he will be, won't you, Cousin?" Richie cackled, clapping his cousin on the back as he passed by.

"Be what?" Carmen muttered, too in the game to even see you there. "Chef, have you finished prep?"

"No, Jeff. Talking to your beautiful baby mama." Tina cooed, giving your arm a gentle squeeze.

Carmen's eyes lifted to you, brow furrowed when he looked at the time. "Hey, baby, I lost track of time." He muttered, lips brushing over yours in greeting, hand gliding down your growing stomach.

"We know you did, Cousin." Richie scoffed. "I went and got her."

"You drove with Richie?" Carmen's eyes flashed to you.

"C'mon, Carm. I'm a good fuckin' driver, alright? Quit busting my balls." Richie snorted, rolling his eyes at him.

"He drove safe, Carmy." You reassured, hand rubbing down his forearms sweetly.

Carmen hummed, rolling his eyes gently, but moved you through the kitchen after Sweeps almost hit you with a pan rounding the corner. "Here, come in my office."

"Is it cooler in there?" You moaned, lip jutting in a pout. "I'm about to stand in the freezer, Carmy, it's so fuckin' hot in here."

"I know." Carmen had learned, knew better now, than to do anything but agree with you. He'd been on the receiving end of your wild hormones too many times, your lashing tongue or worse- the fucking tears.

"I put the fan in here, and I have that neck thing in my little fridge, ok? You should be laying down anyways. Not supposed to be up." Carmen frowned lightly , pushing the door open to his office.

The couch was now used as your temporary napping place throughout the day. Carmen had put the bear in overbearing- a joke you told him that he did not find that humorous- when you became pregnant, and it only got more and more severe as months went on. When you got into your third trimester, put on bed rest the last few weeks, Carmen had taken it beyond serious. Insisting that you come stay with him at the restaurant. He was terrified at the thought of something happening or you going into labor when he wasn't around.

You'd agreed, reluctantly, really only because you wanted Carmen close and... because you were in a restaurant. Any type of craving would be satisfied easily for you.

"I think if I lay down, Carmy, I'm not making it back up for family." You yawned gently, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand.

Carmen grinned, reaching to turn on the fan besides the couch, pointing it at you so it would blow the cool air over you. "That's alright. I'll bring it here to you." He muttered, pulling the blinds closed for you.

You sat down, propped against the pillows, head lolling to the side to look at him. Carmen sat beside you, hand rubbing over your stomach. "Where's she at today?"

"Same place she was this morning. Right under my ribs." You grin, moving his hand under your left boob, pressing to the side when her fluttered kicks were.

Carmen beamed, eyes brightening as his hand ghosted over the spot there. "Talk to her, Bear." You muttered, eyes fluttering shut. This pregnancy fatigue was no fucking joke. "She likes your voice."

"Yeah?" Carmen grinned, perking at the compliment.

"Yeah." You nodded. "She likes to hear her Daddy's voice. Makes her kick like fucking crazy."

Carmen leaned down, cheek resting on your stomach gently. "Hi, baby. Are you bein' good?" He muttered, your body flushing with adoration at the gentleness of his words. "You ready to come out soon? We're ready for you to. I know your Mommy is."

You snorted, a breathy laugh cut short by a sharp kick to your ribs. "Keep talking." You muttered, moving his hand a little further to wear the kick was. "Bring out the cookbooks again."

"Yeah?" Carmen hummed, eyes crinkling with amusement. "Your Mommy thinks that's funny, but when you come out knowing how to make bruschetta, she's gonna be blown away. Won't she?" Carmen's voice lilted, a tone of baby talk that had you swooning. It was new, something he just recently started doing in the recent weeks. While you were nesting, so was he, in a different way. Getting used to the idea of being a dad, the anxieties he felt traded in for an excitement.

Carmen could feel it, tiny kicks pressing through your tight, stretched skin. His baby, kicking to the sound of his voice. His heart swelled. "See, she agrees with me."

You laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I know she does. Already got you already, hm, Berzatto?"

"Gets it from her, Mama." Carmen jested back, a playful twinkle in his eyes that had your heart soaring out of your chest, tears welling in the corners- damn pregnancy hormones. "Learnin' from you already."

You smiled wordlessly, a watery grin that had Carmen a little on edge until you reached out, pulling his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into his palm. Carmen's hand cradling your cheek, free hand going back to where the baby had been kicking, soothing it gently while your eyes fluttered shut.

[myfictionaldreams]

request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Adult!Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation. 

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders,  feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

[patheticdarling]

A Whole New Beast

   Summary: Reader and her husband Prince Aemond had, to one another’s knowledge, never given much thought to kids but what happens when Aemond sees how well his wife is with Aegon and Helaena’s new child but also, vice versa.

   Warnings: (pretty soft &romantic) smut/breeding kink/mentions of pregnancy/described childbirth/unprotected sex/oral (f receiving)/fingering (f receiving)/kissing/exhibitionism? (public sex)/use of high valyrian (i just love the way it sounds especially in regards to aemond hehe)/parental insecurity/drinking (ofc w aegon, there always is)

Word Count: 3675

*NOT MY GIF*

  “Lady Y/N, the Princess Helaena has requested your presence in her chambers immediately,” one of Helaena’s handmaidens had found you on your morning walk in the gardens. 

  Your face grew worrisome at the handmaiden’s words as you followed her out of the gardens. Helaena was due to give birth to her third child any day now and you feared something horrible might have happened. 

  Helaena’s handmaiden pushed open the doors, you saw Helaena on her bed with the Maester between her legs as she cried softly. 

  “Helaena!” you rushed to her side, grabbing her hand, “Are you alright?” 

  She moved to speak before, what you assumed, was another contraction passed as she winced, “I’m fine,” she sighed as it moved through her, “I just did not wish to be alone.” 

  “Where is Aegon?” you shouldn’t have expected him to be here, at least not by his own will. When Helaena had given birth to Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, Queen Alicent had forced him to be there and demanded that he be at his wife’s side as she brought his children into the world. 

  “Mother did not command him to be here this time around,” Helaena spoke through rugged breaths.

  “Would you like me to order the guards to fetch your mother?” you moved to do so. 

  “No,” Helaena snatched you back by your hand, “I only wish for you to be here, good sister.”

  You smiled at her kind words, pushing away some of the hair that stuck to her forehead, “Then I’m not going anywhere.” 

  She nodded, smiling tiredly. She readjusted her grip on your hand, tightening it as the Maester’s and midwives encouraged her to push. 

  “Once more, Princess. We can see the babe’s head,” one of her midwives spoke. Helaena’s nails dug into your hand as she screamed, pushing with what seemed to be all her might. 

  “AHHHHH!” you could’ve sworn her cries shook the walls of every chamber in the Red Keep.

  Suddenly the air was filled with sweet cries and shrieks as the Maester pulled the baby from Helaena. 

  “A boy, Princess,” the midwife announced, quickly wiping away the birth matter before placing the squalling bundle into Helaena’s tired arms. 

  She smiled sweetly at the small boy, “Is he healthy?”

  “As can be,” the Maester answered, “Congratulations, Princess.”

  You kissed your sister-in-law’s head, “Well done, Helaena. He’s beautiful. Have you got a name for him yet?” 

  “Aegon wanted to name him Maelor,” she caressed the sleeping infant’s face, “Do you wish to hold him, Y/N?”

  “I would be honoured,” you grinned softly before Helaena passed the baby into your arms, “Well, aren’t you a handsome one, Prince Maelor?” he stirred a bit as you rocked him before you cooed him back to sleep.

  One of her handmaidens came through the doors, “Prince Aegon, the Queen, and Prince Aemond, my Princess.” 

  You assisted Helaena to sit up as the three entered the room. Queen Alicent smiled proudly as she moved to her daughter’s bedside. 

  “My sweet love,” she kissed her daughter’s cheek, Helaena giving a half-smile in return, “I do hope your labours were not too painful.”

  Helaena shook her head, “Faster than the first time. But still excruciatingly painful.” 

  You laughed softly at her words, “Prince Aegon, don’t you wish to be introduced to your son?” you raised a brow. 

  Aegon sighed deeply before moving to his wife’s bedside, looking at the baby in your arms. 

  “Another son,” Aegon spoke. He merely watched as you passed the bundle to the Queen so that she might get a better look at her grandson. 

  “Yes, my Prince. Your wife has done an excellent job,” you spoke rather coarsely to him. Aegon wasn’t a good person, let alone a good husband, and Helaena wasn’t just your sister-in-law but your friend and you never cared for the way Aegon treated her. 

  “You might wish to hold your son, brother,” Aemond suggested. 

  Aegon cleared his throat, “Oh- of course,” you looked to Helaena first, she was reluctant at first before giving a nod of approval before you took the boy from the Queen and handed him over to Aegon. 

  The baby didn’t look right in his arms but there was nothing you could do about it. He was the father after all. You smiled again at Helaena before finally moving to your husband’s side. 

  “The boy’s name?” the Queen asked. 

  “Maelor,” Helaena answered.

  Queen Alicent smiled at her daughter, “Excellent choice. I assume the two of you would like some privacy?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Aegon answered, “I’ve got matters that need attending to.” He handed the baby back to Helaena in haste. 

  “Matters more important than the birth of your son?” you questioned. 

  Aegon’s jaw tensed at your comment, his fist curling as he tried to take a step towards you, “What was that, Y/N?”

  You moved to speak before Aemond stepped in, “Careful, brother.” 

  Both brothers moved towards one another before Queen Alicent stepped in, “Not here. This is about Helaena and the babe.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Your Grace,” you spoke up, pulling Aemond back to your side. 

  Queen Alicent nodded at you before turning to Helaena, “My husband may do as he pleases. I only wish for Y/N and Aemond to be here.” 

  The Queen shifted uncomfortably at her daughter’s words, “As you wish, my love.” she stroked Helaena’s hair, “Come along, Aegon.” 

  Aegon did not hesitate to leave as fast as he could, not even waiting politely for his mother. Queen Alicent said her goodbyes before making her way out of Helaena’s chambers. 

  You took Aemond’s hand, leading him to Helaena’s bedside, “Their energy was bad for the baby. Aegon stunk of wine, he left it on Maelor’s blanket.”

  “Shall we have one of the midwives change it?” Aemond asked his sister. 

  Helaena shook her head, “I don’t want anyone else touching him beside you or Y/N.” 

  You could see how tired the poor girl was, “Helaena,” you took her hand, “Maybe you should find some sleep. You’ve exhausted yourself heroically this morning.” 

  Helaena took a deep breath before nodding, “Will you two be alright looking after him while I do?” 

  “Of course,” you nodded, “We’ll just be over in the nursery. The minute you wake, we’ll bring Maelor back.” 

  “Thank you,” she smiled as she handed the baby over to you. 

  You scooped him into your arms. Helaena attempted to make herself comfortable, “Here, let me help,” you offered before turning to give Aemond the baby, “Take him.”

  Aemond had never given off the fatherly type but he knew his sister had only entrusted him and his wife. So he nodded before awkwardly taking the baby into his arms. While you adjusted Helaena’s pillows and settled her into bed. 

  “Sleep well, sister,” Aemond spoke softly as Helaena waved us goodbye. You and Aemond left her chambers quietly so as to not wake the sleeping infant. “Shouldn’t you take him?” 

  “You that scared of him?” you giggled as you took the baby from Aemond’s arms, “Rides the biggest dragon in the world and is scared of his infant nephew.” 

  Aemond scoffed, “I am not scared. He’s just too delicate.” 

  “You won’t hurt him,” you smiled at your husband as you entered the nursery. 

  “Seems as though the handmaidens already fastened a cradle in here,” Aemond nodded over to the bassinet in the corner. 

  “Let’s see if he likes it then,” you walked over and placed your newborn nephew into the crib. He was still fast asleep after you tucked him in. “Seems he does,” you kissed his head as he slept soundly. 

  You and Aemond stood over the sleeping boy for a while, just listening to his soft little breaths and snores. 

  “How could your brother bare to be away from him by choice?” you finally spoke, breaking the silence. 

  “Aegon has never been built for responsibility,” Aemond answered, “I mean, the only reason he was there when the twins were born was because Mother forced him to be.” 

  You shook your head at the thought, “Hopefully all three are more like Helaena than they are like him.” 

  Aemond sighed, “Gods be good.” 

 “They’re such beautiful things. Babies that is. Not a bad thing about them. Just pure innocence and joy.” 

  “Born into such a corrupt world. Makes you think twice about having them.” 

  “And you have?” Aemond raised his brow at your question, “Thought about having them?” 

  “The thought has crossed my mind.” 

  “Really? Why have you never said anything?” 

  Aemond tensed a bit before clearing his throat, “Has the thought ever crossed your mind?”

  “Of course, it has, Aemond. From the moment a girl comes of age and even before that, they are told about the so-called miracle of childbirth. Though after seeing what Helaena went through, definitely a load of sheep shit.” 

  Aemond chuckled lightly, “And what are your thoughts exactly?” 

  You let out a deep breath, “The idea of having one or two seems nice. What about you?” 

  He paused before saying anything, “I don’t think I’m fit to be a father.” Aemond moved away from the crib, towards the windows of the nursery that faced the horizon over Blackwater Bay. 

  “What in Seven Hells are you talking about?” you followed him over.

  Aemond shook his head, “Look at me. A one-eyed man whom everyone in all of the Seven Kingdoms is terrified to look at. A monster.”

  You sighed before resting your hand on the scarred side of his face and pushing it to face you, “You are not a monster. You are my husband. A Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. A fine warrior. A dragon rider. A poet and a scholar. All of this and more. But most importantly, Aemond, you’re a good man.” 

  “Do you wish to have children with me, Y/N?”

  “More than anything, Aemond,” you smiled proudly. 

  Aemond finally exchanged a similar one, “Then children we shall have. Though we may need some more practice first.” 

   Aemond took a step towards you, one of his hands falling to your waist while the other cupped your face. He leaned forward, both of your eyes fluttering shut. Until the soft whimpering that came from the cradle pulled you both away. 

  You moved to comfort Maelor before Aemond stopped you, stepping towards the crib himself and picking up the softly crying baby. 

  “Shhh,” Aemond cooed, “It’s alright little one.” You smiled softly as he began to rock himself and the baby, continuously cooing to him. 

  There was a knock at the nursery door, “Come in. Quietly please,” you instructed. 

  Helaena’s handmaiden entered, “My lady, my prince,” she curtsied, “The princess is awake and wishes for her child to be returned to her.” 

  “Of course,” you nodded. You walked to Aemond, “Want me to take him?”

  “I’ve got him,” he answered, his eye still fixated on the sleeping boy. 

  You kissed Maelor’s head then Aemond’s cheek, “Let’s get him back then.” 

  The three of you returned to Helaena’s chambers. She appeared to have bathed and rested from her current looks. 

  She looked at you questioningly as you were the first to enter the room, “Where’s Maelor?” 

  Aemond had finally entered the room, the sweet bundle still fast asleep in his arms, “No need to fret, sister.” 

  Helaena smiled softly as Aemond handed her son back to her, “Thank you both for looking after him.”

  “We’d be happy to do it whenever you’d like, Helaena. He’s a sweet boy,” you grinned, “Sweet enough that he even wooed your brother over.” 

  She nodded at her brother, “A dragon of spring.” 

  You and Aemond exchanged glances, Helaena had always been known to say peculiar things. You thought it must be related to her labours so you both just smiled at her. 

  “We’ll let you two have some alone time,” you smiled, “Come, husband. Let’s go for a walk in the gardens.” 

  Aemond nodded as the two of you exchanged goodbyes with his sister and the new prince before heading off toward the gardens. 

  The sun was still shining as you took your stroll, stopping to sniff and observe the different flowers and plants. Aemond plucked one, placing it behind your ear as you started to walk toward the more secluded areas of the gardens. 

  Aemond’s hand stayed on your face, seeming to admire you, “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered softly.

  You caressed the scar on his face again, “As are you, my love.” 

  Aemond wasted no time in pulling your lips to his, both of you moaning softly at the combined softness and neediness that filled the kiss. It seemed after your earlier conversation Aemond was now making haste as his lips trailed down your face and neck. 

  “Aemond,” you panted softly as he began to undo the lacing on the back of your dress, “We could be seen.”

  “Then let them. I don’t plan to let you out of this garden before I’ve filled you with my seed.” 

  Your body trembled at his words as he managed to pull your dress down. Before he continued, he pulled off his coat, laying it onto the floor and throwing his belt off as well before pushing you down softly to rest on the softer material. 

  “Gods,” you moaned quietly as Aemond wrapped his lips around one of your hardening nipples while his hand toyed with the other.

  He groaned around it before pulling off and switching his attention to the other, mimicking his earlier motions. While your hands slid between the two of you, untucking his tunic from his trousers. Your fingers then undoing the clasp before nudging them down.

  “Seems you’re not too worried about being caught now, are you?” Aemond teased. 

  “Please, just fuck me.” 

  “In time, my darling,” Aemond smirked before moving in between your legs, bunching your dress in the middle while he removed your stockings and knickers, “Gods be good,” he moaned as he began kissing up your thighs. 

  “A-Aemond,” your voice quivered a bit as he licked, bit, and kissed up and down your legs. 

   Getting as close as he could to your pussy, which had to have been dripping by now from all of Aemond’s teasing. He finally locked his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking it as two of his fingers teased your entrance. Your fingers made their way into his hair, attempting to tug on it but the band of his eye patch continued to get in the way. So you began to undo the leather, Aemond made no effort to stop you as you did so. He was only focused on pleasuring you as much as he could. 

  Once the eye patch was removed, your fingers could now properly grip his hair which only encouraged Aemond in his assault. You bucked and twitched at his touch. Your back arching as your orgasm continued to build in your stomach. Aemond could feel you clench around his fingers, knowing you’d be finishing sooner than later. 

  “F-Fucking hells,” you moaned louder as he sped up his movements, “Gods- fuck- Aemond!” Your climax ripped through you as you coated Aemond’s porcelain face with your juices. You were attempting to catch your breath before Aemond rose from between your legs and laid a hard kiss on you. 

  “I love the way you taste,” he sighed as he pulled away, his now exposed sapphire eye gleaming beautifully along with the dampened part of his face. You smiled, still coming out of your post-orgasmic haze, “I read somewhere that a woman is more likely to conceive after an orgasm.”

  “Thank the Gods you like to read,” you panted. Aemond chuckled before kissing you again, this time one of his hands fell between you, pulling his trousers down and finally exposing his completely hardened and leaking cock. 

  He teased your hole a bit with the tip, not pushing in all the way on account of you recovering, “Whenever you’re ready, my love.” 

  You took in another deep breath before nodding, “Please, Aemond.” 

  You didn’t have to beg much before Aemond began pushing his cock in. The wetness provided by your first orgasm made it all that much easier. You let out synchronized groans as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock pressing your cervix. 

  “Gods-fucking hell,” Aemond moaned in your ear as you both adjusted to the feeling of one another.

  “Aemond, m-move,” you whimpered in his ear. 

   Aemond heeded your pathetic-sounding demands and began to thrust over and over. He started slow at first but after hearing the noises you emitted and the way your body reacted every time he sped up, his pace became relentless. The visceral sounds of skin slapping, heavy breathing, and combined moans filled the gardens that surrounded the two of you. 

  The tightening sensation in your stomach was back, “G-Gonna cum again,” you panted. 

  “Fuck, I’m nearly there,” Aemond groaned. His pace continuously sped up as you both now chased your orgasms. He leaned his head down, pressing your foreheads together as your climaxes neared. 

  “I love you,” you whimpered as Aemond pounded into you.

  Aemond grunted, your sweet words only encouraging him, “I love you. Can’t wait to put a fucking baby in you. Watch you swell with my child. Let everyone in the Seven Kingdoms know you belong to me.” 

  And just like that both of you erupted into a string of moans and vile words. If no one had heard the two of you yet, there was no chance they could’ve denied that. Aemond’s cum completely filled your cunt, dripping out around his cock as he was still inside you. 

  Aemond panted as he thrust his last few times before kissing your forehead and slowly pulling out. You both winced at the absence of one another as Aemond lay next to you on the coat. 

  He pulled you to him, both of you relaxing in the others’ grasp, “Think this one will take?”

  Aemond sighed, “Gods, I hope so. Still,” he leaned on his arm so he could look down at you, “If it doesn’t, that means I can still fuck you like this,” you both smiled before kissing softly, “And if it does, I’ll still fuck you like this.” 

NEARLY A YEAR LATER...

  “Push, my lady, push!” one of your midwives encouraged.

  “I am pushing, you stupid cunt!” you yelled as the pain surged through your body. 

  “Was I this violent during my labours?” Helaena asked as she continued to grip your hand. 

  Aemond smirked from the other side of you, your other hand in his grip, “That’s my child inside her. A true dragon.” 

  “Both of you, shut the- AHHHHH!” 

  “I can see the head,” the Maester spoke from between your legs, “One last push, my lady.” 

  You practically roared as you pushed with every last bit you had left in you. The relief overcame you as you felt your child come out and their soft wails fill the room. 

  “A boy,” the midwife spoke as she quickly wiped off your baby before placing him in your arms, “As healthy as can be. Praise the Mother.”

  You sobbed softly as you tiredly rocked the infant, “Shh, it’s alright, my little love.”

  “You have a son, my prince. Congratulations to the both of you,” the Maester smiled as he and the midwives cleaned up. 

  Aemond’s gaze could not be taken away from his son or his wife, pure adoration for the both of them.

  “He’s beautiful,” Helaena commented, “A dragon of spring,” she wiped the sweat-clad hair from your forehead. 

  Your handmaiden returned, “The Queen and Prince Aegon,” she introduced. Aemond’s family joined the room. The Queen moved to the bed. Aegon preferring to stay by the table, coincidentally where the wine was kept. 

  “Boy or girl?” she asked. 

  “A healthy boy, Your Grace,” you smiled tiredly. Your son had small wisps of the signature Targaryen silver hair decorating the top of his head. 

  Queen Alicent grinned proudly, “Congratulations.” She kissed Aemond’s head, then yours, then the babe’s. “Does he have a name yet?” 

  “Daeron,” Aemond answered, “It means the great little one which is exactly what he is.” 

  “He’s perfect,” the Queen spoke softly, “Reminds me of Aemond. Such a small thing.” 

  Helaena rose, “We should give them their time.”

  The Queen nodded, “I agree, sweet girl. Come along.” Aegon tossed back his goblet of wine before moving to follow his wife and mother out of the chambers.

  “Brother,” Aemond called after him, his gaze still not moving from his new family.

  “What is it?” Aegon groaned. 

  “I shall let it pass this once but if I ever see you drinking or drunk around my son, I will cut your tongue out so that you cannot taste the ale anymore.”

  No one said a word as Aegon just nodded quickly before practically running after Helaena and the Queen. 

  “I will not allow drunken idiots around him,” Aemond explained, “Even if he is my brother.”

  You chucked lightly, “Fair enough, my prince.”

  Aemond continued to admire your son, “Might I?”

  “Of course,” Aemond helped you to sit up to make the hand-off easier, “Though,” you reached your hand towards his head, pulling off the eye patch, “you should meet your son as you truly are.” 

  Aemond gave a light smile before you handed him Daeron, “It’s scary how perfect he is.” 

  “I know,” you sighed, “Takes after his father.” 

  “Not in the slightest,” Aemond kissed the side of your cheek, “Well done, my brave girl.”

  “Ao'll emagon naejot bodmagho zirȳla Valyrīha. Sepār hae ao gōntan syt aōha ābrazȳrys.” You'll have to teach him Valyrian. Just as you did for your wife.

  Aemond nodded, “Indeed, ñuha jorrāelagon. Issa iā Targārien Dārilaros tolī mirre.” Indeed, my love. He is a Targaryen Prince after all.

  “I love you, Aemond.” 

  His eye finally moved to meet yours, “I love you.”

  “And you,” you pulled the swaddle away from your son’s face and kissed it softly, “I love you too.” 

  “Īlon both gaomagon.  Tolī than mirros, ñuha tresy.” We both do. More than anything, my son.

[bandgie]

During the Party

virgin!hueningkai x fem!reader

a/n: second part to this post

synopsis: Seeing you get hit on by Yeonjun during a frat party makes Kai do things he knows he'll regret. You take this opportunity to test to see how far Kai is willing to go to please you, at the expense of his dignity.

warnings: MDNI 18+, semi-public oral (f receiving),, Yeonjun is more involved, cum eating (sorry it's my speciality), jerkin off, forced!voyeurism, alcohol/weed mentions, reader is mean mean mean!, kai is just a wee lad, hair pulling, kai is referred to as a dog, idk that's it

3.9k words

Sucking Kai's cock became a way to pass time. In the library, the back of the abandoned buildings, the nearby park deep into the night. It really didn't matter where, your throat just craved to be stuffed with him. Kai was still hesitant, but after a few more times of cumming in your mouth, he let up his protests.

You couldn't do that forever though, and you were getting rather bored of your activities with him. It's how you ended up at the party Yeonjun's fraternity was hosting. The music was loud, the living room was packed with sweaty bodies, and your head was spinning from the smoke clogging the air. 

Your eyes were scanning the sea of bodies for your next fuck. There were a few potential candidates, but you couldn't find the energy to talk to them. It would be much better if they were like Kai. Easy, but not in the sense that they've been around. More like they couldn't say no, that they couldn't manage to stand up for themselves.

Pathetic. You've gotten used to Kai's pathetic self that putting energy into sleeping with anyone else turned you off.

A sudden pair of slender fingers grabbed your waist, and you opened your mouth to tell them to fuck off before you saw the familiar face. Yeonjun had sunglasses on, his hair slicked back, and a simple black tank top that screamed I'm here to get fucked tonight. You've messed with Yeonjun more than once, and his easy going personality made it easier for you to sit back and let him do all the talking.

He’d do for now.

"Funny seeing you here," a lazy smile sits on his face. You turn to face him fully, matching his smirk. "Funny? Why’s that?" You fold your arms across your chest as you regard him. He lifts his shades to rest them on his forehead, "You've been gone a lot. Ignoring my calls, ghosting me. I think this is the first party you've turned up to in weeks. That's not like you."

As tempting as it is to roll your eyes, he's right. You have been absent from your usual tendencies. His observations irk you, "Why do you care? Not getting enough pussy?" Yeonjun is quick to notice your clipped tone, but he ignores it. "Me? Not getting enough pussy? I don't think that's possible. You should see the chicks that throw themselves at me. Not that I can blame them, I'd fuck me too."

Now you're done with the conversation. His cockiness is something you thought you've grown accustomed to, but 'hanging out' with Kai so much made you favor the opposite. You turn on your heel to escape Yeonjun, but he follows suit behind you. "Come ooonn I was joking! Well...kinda. Honestly my dick has been lonely. I heard some horndogs going at it in a bathroom a while ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind."

You stop walking abruptly and whirl to him. "In the bathroom? The one in the library?"

Yeonjun's eyes light up, "Yeah! You heard it too?" You smile and laugh, "Well yeah I heard it. I was the one in the stall." Yeonjun's eyebrows go up in surprise, and he chuckles in disbelief. "Bullshit. Who was the lucky guy?" Rather than answering, you lift your hands to trail your fingers over his broad shoulders. He tenses for a second, then relaxes as your hands travel down to his navel. 

"How about I show you what I did huh? Wouldn't that be more fun?" Yeonjun smiles widely at your request and reciprocates your touches. He grabs two handfuls of your ass, pushing your body to be chest to chest with him. You can feel the heat that radiates off his body, the lust in eyes. This is what you need. Not some wimpy boy who eats his own cum on command. But a man who-

Another pair of hands yank you away from Yeonjun rather harshly. This person is bigger, thicker, but the way he's shaking is what catches your attention the most. Yeonjun reaches for you immediately, looking both confused and concerned. 

"Holy shit Kai? Is that you?" 

You freeze at Yeonjun's words. Then the body behind you begins to feel familiar, too familiar. You whip your head to see Kai's nervous expression. He doesn't even regard Yeonjun, instead locking eyes with you. There's no doubt in your mind that Kai is beyond terrified. Back in middle school, you and Yeonjun used to torment him. It wasn't until halfway through highschool that Yeonjun moved past bullying. 

"God damn it is. You look good man! I didn't even know you were going here, haha." For the first time in your life, you're thankful for Yeonjun's obliviousness. Kai's eyes shift to his for a brief second, "You too." There's no maliciousness in his voice, not even fear like you thought. He sounds worried, nervous, upset.

Oh.

The grip on your waist, the eye contact Kai maintains, his pained expression. It doesn't take a scientist to figure out why he's here embarrassing himself. Kai's jealous. He's jealous that you're here to fuck another man, that you've started ignoring him a few days ago. Though his hands are shaking, he's content with not letting you go. He’s so desperate you can't help but find it cute. 

It would be better to tell him to buzz off. You came here with the intention of putting no effort into your pleasure, but Kai's presence makes you ache for him. Like you miss him. It's a thought you shove far, far away into the depths of your mind. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to keep Kai for the night; he looks like he'd do anything to stay with you.

"Aw shit. Sorry Yeonjun. Me and Hyuka had something to do and I totally forgot. Bye." You don't stay to hear his complaints, instead grasping Kai's wrist and taking him to the other side of the house. Kai is silent as you both weave through the bodies of people. He doesn't say a peep when you open the door to the basement, closing it behind you two. 

Yeonjun and his frat brothers had a man-cave that was off limits to everybody. But being Yeonjun's 'special' friend gave you some perks. You made your way down the stairs to plop yourself on the couch. Kai stood awkwardly beside you, unsure of where to place himself.

When he does decide to sit next to you, you shake your head. "Nope. Here." You snap your fingers and point to the floor between your legs. Kai hesitantly approaches, getting on his knees in front of you. He looks perfect, like he belongs down there. 

You spread your legs open, hiking your dress above your waist to show yourself. Kai's eyes widen and he gulps, "I-this wasn't what I-" 

"You embarrassed me tonight Hyuka. Do you know that?" His expression turns guilty, a frown on his face as he nods. "You got in the way of me having fun. Acting like you're some boyfriend to me. Don't you think you owe me for ruining my night?" 

Kai glances at your clothed cunt then to your eyes. "I'm sorry," he speaks softly. His smooth voice makes you shiver with arousal. "Well," you look at him unimpressed. "Go ahead and show me how sorry you are." Kai's mouth opens to protest but you cut him off. "And don't give me that shit that you've never eaten pussy before. There has to be something you've learned from all that porn you watch."

He snaps his mouth shut and blushes. That's exactly what he was going to say, but it wasn't because he didn't want to. You've given Kai head countless times, and he's never had the opportunity to reciprocate. It wouldn't be unreasonable to say that he thinks about it, even dreams about it when he's away from you. There's nothing Kai wishes more than to taste your sweetness, he's just worried about his lack of experience. 

Still, you're laying yourself on a platter so nicely for him. He can see the outline of your clit through your thin underwear. Carefully, he uses his finger to trail your crevices. Kai's digit lightly drags up and down your pussy. You can’t help but twitch, your hips slightly jumping from the ghostly sensation. 

It's not necessarily confidence, but curiosity that makes him eager. Kai wants to know what makes you wet, what pulls the pretty moans from your throat, how your cream would taste on his tongue. He can feel the plushness of your lower lips. The wetness of your pussy sounds like music to his ears. 

His teasing touches get you restless. There's a part of you that tells you to wait, that Kai might get overwhelmed from his first time seeing a cunt. But the need in your gut and the way your hips keep thrusting upwards to hump his hand wins out in the end. 

You use one hand to pull your underwear to the side, shivering at the cold air. Kai's breath gets caught in his throat and his tongue pokes out to lick his lips. Your other hand reaches for your folds to spread them open. You softly hum at the intensity of Kai's stare, pulling at your pussy a little harsher. 

"You like it Hyuka? You ever seen a pussy this close before?" You sound a little breathless, but Kai finds that insanely attractive. "Never...it's beautiful." The warmth of his breath on your cunt makes you whimper. 

The compliment doesn't fail to give you little butterflies in your stomach. "Oh yeah? I think it tastes better than it looks." To prove your point, you use the hand that was stretching you open to collect your juices. Kai's eyes never leave your hand even as you place your fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. 

His Adam's apple bobs and his eyes twinkle like a kid seeing their favorite ice cream. You exaggeratedly moan as you taste yourself, "Your turn." Without waiting for Kai's response, you grip the back of his head and force him into your cunt.

There's no protesting or hesitation once his lips are on your aroused ones. He buries his face between your legs and his arms wrap around the underside on your thighs. Kai's a little too enthusiastic with his aggressive licks, but his little grunts make up for his lack of experience. 

He's never tasted anything so good. Kai was thinking that it might taste like his own cum but he could not be more wrong. Your flavor is a natural musk that has him straining in his pants already. If this is how you tasted all the time, Kai thinks there couldn't be a day where he wouldn't eat you out. 

His tongue flicks at your nub on occasion, but he seems to be focusing on your entrance instead. You keep a firm grip on the top of his head and guide him back up to your clitoris. "Here Hyuka. Don't make me tell you again." Kai nods at your order and centers at your sweet spot. 

You don't bother looking away from Kai. It might be a little too intimate to keep eye contact while he laps at your cunt, but you love seeing him so pliant. It's a huge power trip you've accepted when giving him head. It didn't matter who was on their knees, you both knew who was in control.

Kai was a quick learner. He figures out you really like when his nose brushes against your bud while his tongue lapps deeper into you. Your hips start grinding on his face, and his heart swells with pride. It feels good knowing Kai could do this to you. Even if you were mean to him, he still felt like he owed you this pleasure.

There's no way Kai's face is still dry after dragging it up and down your pussy. He doesn’t seem to care about how dirty he gets, only that you chased the high you've been neglecting yourself from. You don't care about how loud you're being either. Not that it matters anyway, the hollering from upstairs is enough to cover up your sounds. 

The first signs of your orgasm course through your body. Your legs tense around him and you throw your head back. "Ah~Hyuka, don't stop. Feels so good." Kai doubles down, knowing there’s no way he could get tired of your taste no matter how many times you came on his tongue.

Your cunt starts contracting around nothing, longing to be stuffed. You close your eyes and imagine how Kai's cock would fill you up so nicely. He might be pretty sloppy with his thrusts, but it would get the job done in making you cream around him. As much as you want him inside you, you know that you both would reach the point of no return if that happens. 

Your obsession would turn into something you don't think you're ready for. 

Instead, you'll have to settle for asking for his finger. He might struggle in the beginning, but he'll get the hang of it.

"Hyuka," you try and steady your voice. "Finger m-" You're cut short by footsteps descending the steps. Kai tries to rip himself from you, but you slam your thighs shut to keep him in place. He struggles for a second, but the feeling of your soft skin surrounding him pacifies him. 

Familiar orange hair peeps from the stairs as Yeonjun makes his way down. He looks at you surprised for a moment, then his eyes travel to the hostage between your legs. Being the dramatic person he is, Yeonjun jumps at the sight. "What's going on here?"

Kai stiffens at Yeonjun's voice, and he looks at you pleadingly. As if saying get him out of here please. You turn your attention back to Yeonjun and shrug, "Nothin'. I'm kinda busy right now." Rather than taking the cue and leaving, he goes down the remaining stairs and slowly walks over to you. He lifts his sunglasses to rest on his head, "Doesn't look like nothing. Who ya suffocating down there?"

Once something grabs Yeonjun's interest, it's practically impossible to get rid of him. There's nothing you can do other than watch Yeonjun plop himself on the couch beside you. He shows no shame in staring at Huening Kai between your legs. Yeonjun lets out a little chuckle, "So is this what you and Kai had to do?"

You nod, pushing the hair from Kai's face. His eyes have welled up with tears and his cheeks a bright pink. From oxygen deprivation or embarrassment, you aren't sure. 

Yeonjun's eyes never leave Kai's face, darting from your pussy and his wet face. "Well don't let me stop you, carry on," it's only amusement in Yeonjun's voice. 

You can feel your heart drumming in your chest, and the little trembles in Kai's hands. You've never tried to explore having sex in front of someone, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't intrigue you. The thought of Yeonjun's eyes and Kai's mouth on you is exhilarating, and you can feel your cunt throb in excitement. 

"You heard the man Hyuka. Go ahead." You spread your legs and allow Kai to take in a deep breath. He takes a few gulps of air before he shakes his head. "I can't." He speaks so softly, as if he would break if he said it any louder. 

One of your eyebrows raise from his refusal. It's been a while since Kai has denied you, and you don't really have the time to play into it right now. You were torn from your orgasm minutes ago, your high was still nestling in your stomach waiting to be released. 

"You can't?" You question. "What do you mean you can't?"

Kai doesn't answer you, insistent on shaking his head as his response. You groan and roll your eyes, I don't have time for this bullshit.

"Yeonjun," you call to the man beside you. "You'll eat my pussy won't you?" Before Yeonjun has the opportunity to respond, Kai immediately begins to protest. "Wait! I can do it. I can, I'm sorry." His eyes lock with yours, pleading. His quick obedience makes you shiver, and you involuntarily open your legs a little wider. 

"You keep saying you're sorry, but I dunno if you mean it," you tsk. "We have a guest Hyuka, it's rude to keep him waiting."

"I am sorry! I didn't mean it." His words are mumbled as Kai places his lips back on your core. You hum at the warmth of his mouth, lifting your hips up to chase the heat. 

Kai isn't as aggressive, most likely nervous from having a one-man audience. But his slower licks make that heat in your belly begin to gently rise once again. His tongue travels into your hole to collect your wetness and bring it back up to your clit. You moan at the flick of his tongue against your nub.

Yeonjun lifts your dress higher and spills your tits from your bra. Your hazy eyes look into his and he licks his lips hungrily. The tension in his jeans gets the better of him, and he unbuckles his belt to relieve himself. 

The jingling sound makes Kai peek over at Yeonjun, and there's a slight panic in his eyes. You notice this quickly, and cradle his face in your palm. Kai's gaze turns to yours, and you can see the ease quickly return back. The obvious effect you have on him makes your chest tighten, and you pray it's just because you're turned on.

Yeonjun grips himself and starts pumping his cock. Curses and groans leave his lips as he pleasures himself. The sight of Kai burying his face deep into you leaves Yeonjun yearning to not only spectate, but somehow get a taste of you too.

With one hand steady on Kai, you use your other to play with your exposed breasts. You tug and twist your nipples, jolting in Kai's mouth. Though it's getting difficult to keep your pussy in his hold, Kai finds his confidence to harshly suck on your cunt.

You cry out and try to escape his hot tongue, but his grip on you is firm. The stimulation is borderline painful, but the way you're flooding in his mouth is anything but. 

"Oh fuck" Yeonjun's voice startles you for a second, forgetting his presence. His cock is completely hard, his tip swollen red. "That's a good little fuck toy you got there. Listens to every word you say. A good boy huh?"

A lazy smile finds your face as you nod. "Yeah, he is a good~oh shit... good boy. The best boy...isn't that right Hyuka?"

Your praise makes Kai's heart swell, and he happily nods and moans at your words. The movement of his head makes his nose brush against your clit, and you flinch. 

Chillsbegin to spread throughout your body. Your moans are getting more frequent, the thrusting in your hips more erratic. Kai's head has begun to hurt from how hard you're gripping his hair, but he's still determined to make you finish. 

"Don't stop. Hyuka I'm gonna cum–," you whine. 

Stopping was the last thing Kai wanted to do, and he started wondering why he even hesitated when Yeonjun walked in. He was nervous at first, feeling like he couldn't compare to someone who has obviously slept around a lot more. But seeing your reaction and Yeonjun’s enjoyment builds up his self-assurance. 

"Shit, I'mma cum too," Yeonjun's slick hands play with his tip. You bite your lower lip and harshly grab the back of Kai's head. 

"Stick your tongue out." Kai obeys you immediately, letting you ride his face like a dildo as you reach the beginnings of your orgasm. Your hips stutter and your moans are choked when you cum. You squeeze your tit as your body tightens. Yeonjun's nearby moans coax your orgasm longer, making your legs tremble. 

Kai's face is completely soiled in your juices, making it easier for your pussy to grind on his face. His head follows your movements easily, not wanting to miss a second of tasting your cum. 

His imagination is nothing compared to what you taste like. 

He keeps licking you even when your hips have collapsed back on the couch. Kai shows no signs of stopping even as your moans turn into gasps. 

Yeonjun doesn't think he can take much longer, and he stands so his cock hovers over your pussy and Kai's head. The change in movement makes you focus your attention on the very close Yeonjun, and you yank Kai's head back. 

A loud smack sound echos in the room when Kai is pulled away from your sensitive cunt. He looks at you as if he's going to complain, but the loud groaning of Yeonjun makes him shut up. 

"Go ahead and come on me Yeonjun. Right here." The hand that was playing with your boobs comes down to spread your lower lips open. You avoid your nub while you rub yourself, still too delicate to be touched.

"On my favorite pussy." It's the last coherent sentence Yeonjun says when he cums. His hot spurts land on your lower stomach, your pussy, and the inner parts of your thighs. His thighs shake and he throws his head back as he continues pumping himself. You smear his arousal over your pelvis, bringing a finger to your tongue for a taste. 

You moaned around your digit, "Mmm, so much for me."

Kai does nothing but watch as another man defiles you. The jealousy is strong in his body, he can feel the heaviness in his chest. Still, you keep your eyes on Kai. He can see the mischievousness and teasing behind them, and for some reason he feels like you enjoy his envy. 

Once Yeonjun comes down from his high, he finally notices the mess on your cunt. "Hold on, lemme get you a towel." 

"That won't be necessary. You know what to do Hyuka." There's no resistance in his eyes when Kai sticks his tongue out to clean you up. You can practically feel Yeonjun's jaw drop, disbelief in his features. 

"No shit."

Kai's hot tongue promptly licks you up, collecting Yeonjun's cum. You can see Kai scrunch his nose up at the taste, making you giggle. His mouth travels to your stomach, your thighs, and your pussy as he wipes any trace of arousal from you.

"I've trained him well huh? Little puppy just for me," you hum when Kai rolls your bud gently over his tongue. 

"This is my favorite part," you say giddily once Kai has collected all the cum in his mouth. 

Kai opens his mouth to reveal the white release he's gathered. His eyes sting from the unfamiliar saltiness, but he keeps his tongue out to show you and Yeonjun his hard work. You purr at the sight, sitting up to grab a hold on Kai's face.

You squeeze his cheeks together and force his head to face Yeonjun who's gaping at the sight. 

"Swallow."

Unable to keep his eyes open, Kai swallows thickly. You can hear Yeonjun groan at the sight, his soft dick twitching. 

You give a few gentle slaps to Kai's face and peck his cheek. "That's my good boy~"

a/n: here's the 2nd part to the huening kai series! I hope ya'll like it! no idea what I'd do for the 3rd part, lmao proofreader/editor: @then-make-me (thank you!!)

update: third part here

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄.

DAY TWO OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

pairing: childhood best friend!dave york x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni

summary: The only good thing about coming back home with your fiance is getting to see Dave York again, your best friend since you were four.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: angst, abusive fiance, verbally abusive family, hurt/comfort, neighbor au, childhood friends to lovers, oral (fem receiving), dacryphilia, blood, you and dave kill your fiance, then crawl to him because why not, soft gun kink, possessive!dave

a/n: this is not edited at all but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway

The only good thing about coming back home is getting to see Dave York.

His family moved in when you were four, and you've been close friends ever since. Both of you moved away at around the same time; he became a CIA operative and got married, while you were still trying to figure yourself out. Your family wasn't supportive of this "self-discovery" stage in your life, which didn't really surprise you. They had never been supportive, always reminding you of your failures.

Then you met Chris, got engaged, and for the first time, your family was happy. Shortly after, you heard about Dave's parents passing away, followed swiftly by the CIA terminating his program. His divorce had been finalized earlier this year. You called him, letting him know that if he needed anything, he should reach out. He assured you he'd be okay, finding other work and moving back into his parents' home.

Ever since you heard he was back, you've been excited.

But now that you’re here, standing at his door, you feel like you’re four again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings tickling you from the inside out. How long has it been since you’d last seen him? It’s been too long, for sure. 

Dave is one of those friends that you could just continue from where you left off no matter how long time had passed. It’s just like pressing the pause button on a remote. It doesn’t require effort to feel close to him again, and you’re glad of it. Dave had been your rock during your teenage years, when you’d been adamant about crying yourself to sleep, he would throw pebbles at your window. It would always surprise you how he’s just known you needed him. It didn’t take you much convincing to leave your room and the two of you would venture on into the darkness until morning. Your parents non the wiser.

Those nights were your favorite. 

Heat licks at your spine, the tips of your ears burning when your mind drifts to a night that smelled of the salty sea. If you think about it hard enough you can still feel the sand caressing your back while Dave pushed deep inside you, his mouth feasting on your neck as the waves tickled your feet. 

God, you’d give anything to return to that night. 

Taking in a sharp breath, you finally knock on the door. The sound echoes and soon, you hear steps coming closer and closer, every thud making your heart skip a beat. 

With the door opening, you feel a gentle rush of cool air caressing your face, a scent that smells so purely of Dave following through. Without noticing you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the familiar smell. Your eyes flutter shut. In hindsight, thinking about the night you lost your virginity probably wasn’t smart. You wonder if it would still feel as good. 

When you open your eyes, he’s staring at you with an amused smile, eyes twinkling like he knows the precise memory you’re thinking about. 

“Dave!” you exclaim and throw your arms around his broad neck. He's bigger now, taller, and notably more muscular. He hugs your tight and lifts you slightly off the ground, your toes brushing against the patio, biceps flexing against your frame. 

He squeezes you one last time before loosening his grip, your body slides against his, your tight nipples brushing against the width of his chest. A gasp parts your lips, a gentle tremor to your legs. You purposefully brush your nose into the crook of his neck and take a deep breath in. “God, I missed you,” you murmur. 

“I’ve missed you too,” his hands remain on your waist, eyes briefly scanning to see if there’s anyone with you. When he sees there’s no one, he raises a sole brow. “I thought your fiance came with you?” 

Despite yourself, your frown is instant, your stomach clenching painfully, “He did,” you answer. “He’s with mom and dad, getting pampered.” 

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue. “Sounds fun. So. . . they like him?” 

“Surprisingly yes,” you smile. “I don’t think I could’ve brought him here otherwise.” 

He hums and pulls himself back, you want to follow his touch but stay rooted in place. 

“I’m a bit worried if your folks like him so much,” he scratches his chin. “Do you like him?” 

The question gets under your skin, festering inside of you like a nasty wound. You look away. “He’s okay,” you say dismissively and quickly force a smile. “ “Do you want to join us for dinner?” 

Dave’s question had bothered you more than you thought. 

You’ve never had anyone burn for you, never had anyone willing to move heaven and earth for you, never had anyone who’d do anything to see you smile. You never experienced the love you’ve read about in books, and after a while, you just stopped looking for it. Women like you don’t receive that kind of love; women like you don’t get the hero or a prince.

After you’ve found Chris, you thought that’d be as good as it’ll get. 

Honestly, you were quite surprised when he proposed, your relationship was mediocre at best. You blamed yourself for thinking like that. You’d always been a dreamer. Someone who had their head in the clouds. And since your parents loved him so much, you were inclined to say yes. Not because your parents controlled your every move or something like that, it was just nice for them to finally spare a compliment, even though the said compliment was depending on you finding someone that would typically not spare a glance at someone like you—according to them. 

You head for the kitchen, helping your mother set the table. She says nothing as she shoves four plates into your waiting arms. You drag your feet to the dining room. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you that the things you disliked about Chris only heightened after the engagement. Sarcastic remarks and condescending tones turned into full dismissal of your opinions and talents. Venomous comments that were made behind closed doors became a part of his normal interaction with you among friends and family. No one seemed to care. Only a couple of friends had come to warn you, or offer help, but you felt ashamed, embarrassed to reach out to people who didn’t know how mess of a person you were—how broken. They didn’t know that to a degree, you might’ve deserved the insults. 

Unlike Dave, talking to Chris wasn’t easy. It was a constant mental exercise and took the fun in being with someone. You had to be sharp always, if not, he’d happily remind you how worthless you are in the guise of a joke. 

Letting out a sigh, you place the last plate down on the table. Chris comes up from behind you, sneaking his arms underneath your own and tugging you to his chest. 

“What are you sulking about?” he asks, the lips that touch your skin making you flinch. “

“You know it’s hard for me coming back here,” you answer. “I kinda wished you’d hang around instead of hanging out with my dad.” 

Much to your relief, Chris pulls away, “I like your dad,” he says. “Besides they’ve been nothing but kind to me so I don’t get why you want me to treat them like a beast I need to defeat.” 

Your eyes drop to his hands. He’s flexed his fingers outwards and balled them into fists. The rest of him is calm, relaxed, every part of him except for his hands. Your body goes rigid. You don’t know what to say to him. You’ve explained your childhood a million times; a mother who reminded you of every physical flaw, a father who just wasn’t around, only showing up during important accomplishments. You understand why Chris likes them so much, the three of them are basically the same. 

“I’m not telling you to fight with them,” you murmur. “Just wanted some support because they’re not kind to me.” 

“God, what do you expect?” he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “They have a daughter who’s still trying to ‘figure things out’. Be grateful you’re not my daughter, I'd be furious.” 

“It’s not like I’m taking their money,” your gaze snaps to him, piercing. “Nor yours, for that matter. So I can do whatever I want.” 

He whistles, lips curling into a nasty grin, “Someone’s feeling courageous. I thought you needed my support? Seems like you’re able to defend yourself just fine.” 

You hear the blood rush in your ears, your knees shaking with frustration. It’s always the same—that smug look he gets whenever you decide to stand up for yourself. 

Your lips pressed tight, you turn your head away. He’s right to a degree though. You’re feeling surprisingly brave for someone who’s been silent for months— as if by the night you won’t be climbing into his bed. You have a sense of why that is. Dave always made you want to believe in yourself, unlike the ones closest to you, he made you think you were worth the trouble even though you know you probably aren’t. 

The silence growing between you, Chris closes the distance with a short amount of steps, he hooks two fingers under your chin, and forces your gaze back to him, “No no, don’t go silent now. I like it.” 

The tension in the air suffocates you. It tastes like poison on your tongue. Chris draws mockingly soft circles over your skin, taunting you. You don’t feel small, not exactly, you just feel powerless, as if he’s ten feet tall. Your teeth bites into the smooth surface of your inner cheek. He leans closer and his breath hits your face. He’s going to kiss you, you’ve enjoyed plenty of those kisses in the past but right now you’re the furthest away from ever wanting him to kiss you. 

A loud knock intervenes perfectly. 

But Chris doesn’t pull away. 

“That’s right, we were expecting company weren’t we?” he rolls his tongue. “Who was it again? Your childhood friend?” 

“Dave,” you breathe out, relief swarming you like soft feathers. Chris is about to pull away so you can go answer the door but before he gets the chance the door opens with a soft click. 

Both of you turn towards the sound. Dave stands at the threshold holding a bottle of wine, eyes flitting between your and Chris. 

“Hey, there,” Chris chirps, all of his fault behavior disappearing into the air. “You must be Dave, nice to meet you!” he extends a hand. Dave, is eyes still fixed on you, accepts your fiance’s hand and squeezes it. Tight. 

“Nice to meet you. Chris, was it?” 

“Right on,” Chris walks around him and shuts the door. “Let’s head to the dining room, we’re about to eat. Isn’t that right?” 

It takes you a moment to realize the question is directed at you. 

“Right,” you murmur, your eyes dropping away from Dave’s. “I’ll go check with mom. Be back in a sec.” 

Just as you’re about to leave, Dave’s voice stops you, “Need any help?” the tension that dissolved settles back over your shoulders. You turn slightly, enough to see him. A brief shadow crosses his face, making home in his eyes—you blink. You find yourself swallowing hard as his gaze causes your throat to contract.

“I’m good thanks. Make yourself comfortable.” 

You haven't cried in months. Not when Chris taunted you, not when your mother made unnecessary comments about how you should be. None of it fazed you anymore. Not the same way it did when you were a kid.

So why are your eyes suddenly teared up now, struggling to hold back?

“Mom, stop it.” 

All eyes turn to you; Chris’s, your father’s and Dave’s. You swallow around the knot lodged in your throat. You mother narrows her eyes, lips a tight line. 

“Stop what?” she asks, voice strained. “I just said I can help you threading those stuborn hairs above your lip.” 

Embarrassment settling at the base of your spine, you cover your mouth with your hand, absolutely mortified. You fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and instead attempt to calm your racing heart. You can’t tell if you’re overreacting or not. Your mom rolls her eyes, waving a hand, she dismisses your emotions entirely. A tremor overhwhelmes you, starting from your legs and going all the way up to your shoulders. Dave’s sitting right next to you, his expression indifferent, calculating. He’s the last person you want to look at right now, finally you two meet up again after years only for him to see that nothing’s changed. 

“You and Dave have been friends since four, I doubt he cares if I mention it. It’s for your benefit,” she shrugs and turns to Chris, placing a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll be sure she’s proper by the time of the wedding. She’s always been horrible at stuff like this, I never understood why.” 

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. 

Your ears are ringing. 

Tears well in your eyes once more, the need to throw up overhwhelming you. 

“I’m not a prized calf, mom. I don’t need your help.” 

Her eyes turn back to you, momentraily dropping to your plate before looking back up again. “Have you decided on a dress?” 

Your brain short circuits for a moment. You want to throw your fork at her as always your dad is silent, and Chris is no help whatsoever. Sometimes you feel as if he enjoys this visits. Enjoys making you see that he’s not all that bad—or he justs enjoys using it as an excuse to show that if everyone in your life behaves like this, something must be wrong with you. 

Then, suddenly, there’s a soothing presence on your knee. 

Dave. 

He squeezes twice, then circles his thumb over your knee, replacing the anxiety with pleasant tingles. You blink with surprise and turn to look at him but he’s staring at your dad, you hadn’t even realize the conversation had shifted from you to something else entirely. 

Dave leans into your ear, his breath welcome as it ghosts your skin, “Breathe,” he whispers. “And excuse yourself from the table. I’ll find you.” 

Your nod is barely noticable. You do as he says, excusing yourself and heading upstairs. No one really took notice of your absence, they believes you to be dramatic and they were no strangers to you suddenly deserting the table. 

You sigh as you climb the stairs and instead of your shared bedroom with Chris, you head to your childhood bedroom. 

Climbing into your old bed, you pull the pillow to your front and wrap your arms around it. Street light stretches shadows into your room. You remember the times you stared into Dave’s bedroom, how he’d talk to you through giant notes. 

Ten minutes later, your door opens. 

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, every word spoken carefully, scared you’ll bolt through the door like a spooked deer. He pushes the door closed and takes a seat at the end of your bed. You notice his eyes scanning the bedroom. “Brings back memories,” he mutters. 

“Yeah,” you nod, hugging your pillow tighter. “Bet you didn’t miss the mess downstairs though.” 

“To be honest I got a little preview before you and Chris arrived,” the muscle above his jaw twitches. “Your parents really haven’t changed in the slightest.” 

“Too bad they didn’t die instead of your parents—” you cut yourself short, clamping a hand over your mouth. What the fuck is wrong with you? “Shit sorry–I didn’t—” 

He says nothing. Instead he wraps his fingers around your ankle and tugs your leg over his lap, “Don’t be. I wish the same thing too sometimes,” he lets out a breath. “Never would’ve thought you’d get engaged with the combination of both of them though.” 

Shame. All you feel is shame. 

You slightly tug at your leg but he doesn’t allow you to recoil from him. “Let me help you,” he says, taking you by surprise. 

“Help me?” you ask. Without thinking you let go of your pillow and move towards him, entranced by the way the light sharpens the edges of his face. “Help me how?” 

“Let’s kill the fucker.” 

“W-What?!” surely you didn’t hear him right. You shake your head. “Did you just say kill?” 

With a tender brush of his lips against yours, the world falls away. A doft whimper echoes in your throat and he presses forward, the tip of his thumb tracing the seam of your lips. You open wide for him, allowing Dave to lick deeper into your mouth. Your tongue press together, years of longing and wait adding to the kiss like salt in chocolate. You don’t ever want it to stop. 

“I still hear the waves from that night,” he murmurs, soft pillowy lips brushing against your own. “Tell me to stop and I will. But if you want this, want me—All you have to do is say the word.”

Again, tears well in your eyes. It’s sudden and uncomfortable. You choke on the words you attempt to speak, shaking your head violentls as a shudder rolls down your spine. He presses a comforting palm on your cheek. “Dave I’m a mess,” you hiccup.  

“So am I,” he says matter-of-factly, he grinds the pad of his thumb into your cheekbone. “You can cry, sweetheart. I’m here for you.” 

Before you get the chance you’re being pushed back against the mattress. He slowly tugs down your pants, removing them enreily and leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He stares at you like you’re everything he wants and needs. Your skin prickles, his words finally settling in. 

This man wanted to kill for you. 

And not a bone in your body wants to object to it. 

“You’re not broken,” He pushes your shirt up, laying a kiss on your stomach, a bit of tongue following the purse of lips. “Every part of you is perfect, tender, and right.” 

The damns break with a hiccup. Tears flow effortlessly down your cheeks; salty drops going down your neck and being absorbed into the fabric underneath. You swallow, over and over, it’s difficult to breathe, so hard to catch your breath while your eyes never seem to dry out. 

Dave hovers above you, arms caging in your head. His gaze reminds you of a curious cat, wide, observant. He leans in and with the flat of his tongue, he tastes the sadness on your skin. He follows the traces down your neck, nose caressing your jaw as he licks all of it away. You feel the thick outline of his cock against your bare stomach, arousal heats between your legs and when you arc your back, he groans at the way you soft flesh grazes his length. 

He moves lower and lower, kissing a trail from between your breasts and all the way down to your quivering cunt. He tastes your through your underwear that dampened with arousal. Dave pushes his tongue, forcing himself deeper, groaning at your taste before pushing the fabric down to your knees. 

“I couldn’t help you back when we were kids—with your family,” he mutters into you, his breath chilling your wet folds. “Let me help you now.” 

His lips trace your folds, slipping his tongue and kissing your where no one has ever kissed befor leisurely. Dave takes his time with it, slipping his tongue and pulling it back like he’d do with your mouth. Your crying subdues into loud sniffles and his hand reaches out, cupping your chin. “Cry for me, baby. Don’t hide your sadness from me.” his grip tightens and nips the sensitive flesh right under your pelvic bone. “Cry.” 

You do so with a hitch of breath. However, your cries swiftly shift into moans when he closes his lips around your clit, sucking loudly at the sensitive nub. Your legs brackets his face, with a smile he spreads them open with both hands, moving his jaw as he glides his lips back down, pushing his tongue against your pulsing entrance. 

“You know what my biggest regret has been all this time?” he muses, the words don’t register but you nod anyway. He brings a hand to your mound and slips a finger in, curling it knuckle deep. Your chest heaves at the pressure, making your entire upper body jolt. “Not tasting this sweet pussy the first time we were together.” 

Daves crawls back up, pressing lips to your neck and then to your cheek where the tear streaks had begun to dry. “I wanted to do so many things that night, but you were looking at me with those big beautiful eyes, completely in love. . .” he takes a deep breath, and growls as he exhales. “I wanted to ruin you but I coudn’t, I didn’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.” 

“What about now?” you gasp, gaining a moment of clarity. He chuckles, the sound resonating deep from his chest. 

“Now,” he purrs and goes down you again, licking a fat stroke into your cunt. “I still want to ruin you. And I will. But you’ll know that’s not all I want. Isn’t that true, my sweet girl.” 

Again, your vision blurs with tears. 

“Answer me.” 

“Yes,” you stare at the ceiling, your eyes drying out whilst tears still drip from the corners. “I know that’s not all you want. Please, Dave, ruin me. I’m yours.” 

“I know you are, sweetheart,” his tongue delves between your soaked folds, the curve of his nose causing delicious friction against your clit. Pleasure tightens in your stomach, your inner walls squeezing his finger tight. “You’ve been mine ever since I laid eyes on you.” 

He sucks and slurps, moving his head from side to side as he quickly brings you to the edge. His mouth feels so damn good, and the raw emotions coursing through your veins only add to the pleasure, heightening your senses. You cry out as he pulls out his finger, only to replace it with his tongue, pushing deep. When you look down the bottom half of his face is buried gully into your pussy, the only visible movement being his jawline moving. 

Sweat beads at your forehead. Your heart is pounding, your breath ragged as Dave increases the tempo of his tongue, exploring every inch of you greedily. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, rubbing and massaging your clit expertly and sending sparks of pleasure electrifying through your body. The sensation is overwhelming - so much pleasure, it's almost too much.

The pleasure builds and builds until it feels like it is consuming every inch of you, making it hard to remember that your family—or Chris—might hear you. You close your eyes and let out a moan as Dave continues to work his magic. Your back arches as the pleasure intensifies, and each breath feels like a jolt of lightning shooting through your body.

“Let them here, baby,” he rasps, briefly parting from you. “You’re mine now. They should know.” 

You throw your head back, crying out in pleasure, as it finally sweeps over you. Every muscle in your body tightens as the intense waves of pleasure ripple through you, and you clutch desperately at Dave, gripping his shoulders until the convulsions of pleasure finally die down. He hums happily, not letting up as he licks every inch of you clean. 

Dave works his mouth on your clit, tongue swirling around it lightly, then licks and sucks it hard, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you until the tide of orgasm crashes over you again and leaves you trembling. Dave doesn't stop until every last bit of pleasure has been wrung from your body, until you can do nothing, nothing but lie there and process what just happened. 

When Dave finally does stop, you can barely move your limbs. He drapes himself over you, his warmth calming your raging heart. 

“Invite him to my place tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“Wouldn’t my parents get suspicious?” 

“If they do,” he kisses your eyes one by one, still wet and aching but done with the tears. “I’ll take care of them too.”  

You hate to admit but Chris looks good tied in a chair all bloody and bruised. 

“Fucking tell him to let me go,” he barks at you but his pleas are cut short when Dave comes behind him and yanks his head by the hair. He yelps in pain, eyes squeezing shut when Dave presses the barrel of the gun into his neck. “You two are fucked in the head,” he murmurs. “Just let me go, I won’t say anything.” 

Your body becomes rigid, tense. You don’t regret this, and it feels good to finally see him break. He’s been doing the same to you for months. Belittling you and finding amusement in treating you like thrash. 

Dave’s gaze finds your own, you find it hard to look away. 

“Come here,” he says voice growing soft. “Don’t be afraid of him, sweetheart, he can’t hurt you anymore.” 

Despite all his fear, Chris still manages to glare at you. “You could’ve just broken up with me. It’s your fault.” 

“Mine?” you finally say, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t feel like I had a choice. You made sure of that.” 

“You’re not thinking clearly—” 

Dave’s voice cuts through the air. 

“I’ve had enough.” 

He pulls the trigger. 

The bullet leaves the barrel of the gun in complete silence. 

You don’t even flinch when Chris’s head drops, blood pouring from between his lips and down his chest. Dave doesn’t bat an eye as he sits on the end of the bed. You’re left standing in front of Chris, not looking at him directly, but hearing the last of the gushing sounds of the bullet wound. 

You should feel remorse. 

But all you feel is relief that he’s gone. 

The realization makes you drop down to your knees, you hear the bed creak as Dave attempts to get up but you stop him with the raise of your hand. “I’m okay,” you gasp. “Just. . . in shock.” you turn to him. “Are. . . are you okay?” 

“Okay as I’ll ever be,” gun still in hand, over his thigh, he spreads his legs as he settles back down. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the gun, a sudden hunger flashing in your eyes. His lips stretch into a grin, his hands sliding to hand loose over the inside of his thighs, he gestures for you to come closer with the gun. “Crawl to me.” 

A thrill shoots up your spine. You move slowly, crawling towards him until you are close enough for him to reach out and touch you. You watch him carefully, studying the gun still clenched in his hand before meeting his gaze. You settle yourself at his feet, never taking your eyes away from his. 

Dave slowly reaches out and takes your chin gently in his hand, guiding your mouth closer to where the gun rests. He leans down, his face inches away from yours, and whispers, “You want to taste the weapon that ended that shit-heads’ life?”

You take a deep breath and nod. 

Before he can give the command, you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out. 

His pupils dilate as he guides the barrel into your mouth, against the flat surface of your tongue. It’s cold and the metallic taste overwhelms you but you enjoy it. Dave pushes deeper until you’re gagging, you close your lips around it, your eyes dropping where his finger still rests on the trigger. 

“Look at that,” he murmurs, mesmerized. “Your life is in my hands, all it’ll take to end it is one trigger.” 

You moan at the thought, you’re wholly his, and nothing can stop that now. 

Dave touches your cheek with his other hand, his fingers kind.

 “I’ll treat it with care.” 

[ghostkennedy]

just thinking about exhibitionism w/ leon and he's literally letting you up for free use, >////<

Leon Kennedy x afab! Reader

content warnings: smut, sexual content, exhibitionism, free use, degrading and praising, reader is tied up, blindfold, p in v sex (lots of it), double penetration mentioned but not actually done

!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

leon who is completely obsessed with your body? who’s obsession only grows stronger and deeper with time. soon, it’s not enough for him to just see you fall apart and cry for his cock. oh no. he needs to show you off completely to others.

leon who just needs others to see what he gets to fill up every fucking day. multiple times. he’s never satisfied no matter how much he fucks you. he can hardly take a breath without his cock springing to life, hard as fuck at just the thought of you. how could he keep it all to himself?

leon who believes that nothing worth having should be kept hidden.

leon who wants to make others jealous. he can’t help it, it’s almost instinctive for him. they don’t understand the depths of heaven he’s found through your body. your naked body being spread wide open for him, it’s like the angels are granting him his eternal paradise. what is a god without a following of loyal, devout worshippers? you were sculpted by the gods themselves and deserved to have people worship at your alter.

leon who has a small group of trusted buddies that he’d trust with his life. and you were his whole life. why wouldn’t he trust them to see the most scrumptious masterpiece ever created. show them why he always bails on them. why would he ever wanna go out when he has this waiting for him at home?

leon who finally fucks you in front of his friends. they try to hide their bodies responses as they avoid your eyes while watching leon fuck into you. but as time passes, they all begin openly watching every little movement. you can see their cocks throbbing through their pants, begging for attention. but they can’t touch them. you laid out the rules they only get to watch, not receive anything.

leon who becomes addicted after the first time. he organizes more meet ups for them to watch you two. with the same rules as before, until finally you agree to let them touch themselves while watching you. “you like that, baby? like people getting off on watching you? look into his eyes while i fuck you. look and think about how much of a whore you are. they’re all touching their cocks for you.”

leon who isn’t satisfied with people just watching you get fucked anymore, he wants them to feel it. it starts with little caresses here n there on your breasts and ass. it slowly escalates to longer touches, touches inching closer and closer to restricted areas. and then one day, something snaps and all bets are off.

leon who jerks his cock in your face as you stare up at him, barely able to keep your eyes open as his friend hammers his cock right into that spongy spot inside of you. “still needy for my cock even though somebody’s already railing inside you? such a good whore, huh?”

leon who ties you up, your arms above your head and legs spread open, each ankle secured to their respective bed posts. who blindfolds you and let’s his friends do whatever they want to you. you have no idea who’s touching you, no idea how many are staring at you at any given time, and holy fuck does it make you that much wetter.

leon who whispers praises into your ear while his friends fuck you. “you’re taking it so well. making me so proud. such a good baby for me.”

leon who definitely researches double vaginal penetration often.

leon who pampers the shit out of his prize after every single session. doesn’t matter how many people use you, you’re still his most prized possession.

~masterlist~

[daisy-milk]

Non Dimenticar

three times in which you needed minho, though it wasn't in you to ask

➠ lee minho x reader

➠ wc: 1.7k

➠ summary: both you and minho are independent induviduals, and that aspect thrives in your relationship. though it makes it hard for you to reach out to him when you need it. you and him learn that sooner or later you both will have to learn how to ask for help.

➠ warnings: slight angst (maybe its normal level angst idk its pretty sad), mentions of passing out, mentions of injury, mentions of hosptial/emergency room, overworked reader

➠ masterlist

➠ a/n: i am currently a little tipsy and therefore this is not proofread

he gets it. he really does. he understands because he is the same way. all his life, he has had the same mentality, but now that he’s met you, he has learned; and perhaps it was because you were so similar in that sense that he learned what it looked like from an outside perspective. 

it was your inability to ask for help and openness to receiving it. 

minho, as well, struggled with this. throughout his life he had that mindset. one of, ‘whatever is happening will pass. you must power through. don’t drag others down with you,’ and he knew what it felt like from a personal level. pretty much, you both lived a very much ‘just thug it out’ lifestyle. minho never saw it as too much of a problem though. it didn’t seem to hurt others, in his eyes it kept them safe even, ignorance is bliss, no? but that was until he met you. 

minho saw in you, the struggle that was deep within him. the one many urged him to overcome, because he never would see any issue in it.

the first time he began to become aware was when the two of you were working out. you were both doing bicep curls, your attention on the mirror in front of you as you counted your sets. minho and you took turns and he was using a heavier weight than you, so naturally you dropped yours in favor of letting him switch the plates. you must have been distracted however, and in switching, you accidentally dropped the heavy plate onto your big toe. minho wouldn’t have even noticed if his eyes weren’t trained on you at all times. you didn’t even make a sound when it dropped on you, just an airy hiss, and through your reflection in the mirror you tried your best to play it off. the weight was heavy enough to raise concern, there was no way that didn’t affect you. therefore, minho spoke up,

“hey, you good? that looked painful” he grabbed your arm as you stepped away. 

you shook your head, “nah. i’m fine. i’ve had worse,” a chuckle leaves your lips in an attempt to put your boyfriend at ease.

minho gave you a look. one of uncertainty. though he didn’t want to pry. he knows that even if it was hurting there is a reason you aren’t asking him for help. 

perhaps he should have asked though. you didn’t say anything further but he couldn’t help but notice the quite obvious limp you wore as you walked out of the gym. he noticed, as he peeked at your uncovered foot when you got into bed with him that your toe began to swell and bruise a nasty shade of purple. he noticed the way, even after days, you struggle to put your full weight onto your foot. he urged you to see a doctor, but you brushed it off, saying that it’ll heal on its own, you’ve had worse. 

again, he didn’t pry and you never brought it up. though he knows now to keep a close eye on you at the gym. 

the second time was probably the most brutal. what started as a simple stomach ache soon became an even worse pain that had you doubling over in pain. be it cramps, your pesky lactose intolerance, or food poisoning, you always had an excuse for when minho began to worry. because naturally he would become worried at the sight of you rendering unmovable due to the pain. though no matter what, each time you would ease his mind with a new excuse and a wave of your hand. the excuses lasted a while. though it was only a matter of time until something worse happened. he had gotten a call from you late into the evening, “hey…” your voice was low, it sounded as if you were far from the mic, “can you… can you uh pick me up. i’m at that pho spot near your place. i’m- i… uh don’t think i can drive home.”

“did you drink?” he had asked. you had told him no, but offered no further explanation. he could tell there was something you didn’t want to tell him; he knew there was a reason you sounded hesitant to ask for his help. 

minho had been right because upon arrival he was met with your nearly passed out form, drooping from the driver’s seat of your car. he rushed to you, and you were conscious, luckily. though you did let out a loud groan in pain, your hand clutching your abdomen tightly. without another thought, he rushed you to the emergency room. 

fate was on your side that night. appendicitis. the doctors had told you that you were lucky that you hadn’t waited. if it were perhaps a day later, your appendix may have ruptured. the two of you shared a brief look as the doctor debriefed you. it was a knowing look. 

during your surgery minho thanked every star in the sky that night. he also made sure to schedule himself a check-up with his physician as well. he had to take care of himself to take care of you, is what he told himself.

the third time wasn’t a physical injury per say. minho caught you in your room. using the spare keys you gave him, he welcomed himself into your apartment as he normally did, though you weren’t expecting him this time. he wanted it to be a surprise. he knew you were studying hard and came in to surprise you with your usual coffee order and some homemade pastries felix made. 

instead he found you at your desk, uncomfortably splayed out before your computer. surrounding you were litters of paper and textbooks, most with notes and formulas, but as he looked closer there were papers completely scribbled out, torn, crumpled; it looked like a disaster. he couldn’t count the amount of tabs open of your computer, the chaos that reigned the screen made his head hurt just looking at it. there were at least 2 empty coffee cups on the floor and another on the table, the ice melting into the now lukewarm americano. his hand cropped the one he brought you a little tighter. 

“sweetheart?” he questioned carefully, kneeling down to reach face level with you. 

though you were curled up, he caught a clear glimpse of your face. you looked nearly lifeless and his heart shattered. minho knew it was just finals. he knew that you were probably fine, but what made him break was the fact you were going through it all alone. it had been days since you contacted him, and it wasn’t an issue for him, the two of you were good at maintaining your own personal time, and as per usual he never pried. but the thought of you, pulling through like this for days left his stomach falling into the deepest pits within himself. 

“my poor baby…” his finger traced your cheek, now squished against the table. your skin was dull, eye bags too present, day old makeup faded and smudged all over your eyes. minho kicked himself for not coming sooner. 

minho’s arms curl under you and he pulls your body into his arms. you’re so knocked out that you barely notice the movement. as if it were second nature, you curl into his hold as he hoists you up. his face softens a little as you do so, relieved that even in this state you know to trust him completely. his arms bring you to your bed where he carefully tucks you in, giving a gentle pat on your head as he moves to clean up your desk.

scattered papers and endless notes littered the surface of your desk. it wasn’t just your desk though. your room itself was left in a messy array, the days of stress piled up and you couldn’t bring yourself to clean, as litter and clothes became too much to handle. without a second thought, minho cleaned, folding clothes, tossing garbage until your room was spotless. he finished at your desk, beginning to pick up your papers as you woke.

silently, you approached him, your hand resting on his from behind as he gathered some sheets of paper, 

“minho…” you said groggily, “don’t worry about it… i-i’m not finished with those. gotta finish them then i’ll clean it up”

you attempted to grab the notes but he stopped you. his hand took the papers from your own. without a word he continued to gather the papers and pile them neatly to the side. you didn’t have any energy left to stop him, to argue. you just let him do this thing. after he powered off your computer, he finally turned to you. his hands now rested on your cheeks, gently brushing the soft skin on your face. his head tilted at you as if you were one of his cats, his thumbs brushing the crusty makeup around your eyes. 

“did you sleep well?” finally he spoke

”i have a lot to study…”

”did you eat today?” he continued 

“there’s only one more day before my project is due…” he remained quiet and continued to caress your face, “… i won’t have time to study after my classes and…” you began to lean into his touch, softening up from both your sleepiness and his affection, “…and…” you could melt into the way he looked at you right now, “…and i have to finish… i’ll rest when i…”

”you must be so tired, hm?” there was no other infliction in his voice aside from affection

“…yeah,” you admit, “…i’m really tired.” 

tears began to well in your eyes as you dipped your head down. he didn’t let you though, using a gentle finger to tilt your head back up. new tears traced down the same path as the ones that were now dried on your cheeks. 

“let’s go take a shower?” he asks and you nod. his hand leads you to your bathroom as he begins to use your makeup remover to gently wipe the makeup from your face. 

his hands are too gentle, you think, as he cleans your skin.

”after this, we can study in bed, yeah? together.” he gazes down at you as he tosses one wipe for another, “next time… please call me. i know you want to do this alone, i get it, i thought the same way too. but now that i have you, i could never want to be alone again. trust me when i say, i will never be tired of being with you, helping you, no matter what it is. just please, call me when you need me,” he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “i promise i’ll call you when i need you too.”

please leave feedback please please please

[inklore]

please please please write a part two to dirty magazines 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🫡🫡🫡🫡

since you asked so nicely and since i’m literally going feral, here you go bby <33

show me

premise: you and eddie read his dirty magazines together.

pairing: eddie munson x (f)reader

warnings: eighteen+ content, porno mags, choking, mentions of f receiving oral and sex and spanking, dry humping, foreplay, pet names (sweetheart).

part one

If it wasn’t for the breeze of the air conditioner in Eddie’s window, the cool waft of air that fills the room just enough to make it a comfortable cold; you know you’d be sweating right now. Know there would be a coating of perspiration on the insides of your thighs that would trail down to Eddie’s. To his open legs, thighs spread as you sit on his lap. One arm around your stomach to hold you flush to him, chin in the crook of your neck. Fingers running down the side of your arm softly.

And between the heat from his body and the heat that’s burning a trail of want and arousal down to your open legs—to the bunched up bottom of the band shirt Eddie always gives you to wear when you’re over, exposing your underwear and the wetness that’s gathered against it from your cunt—you feel like you’re on fire.

Like the AC is doing anything but its job, from making you feel like you’re on fire. That you might pass out from how you got here; you sat in Eddie’s lap, legs spread for him, one of the magazines that you had stumbled upon under his bed in your grip as the two of you look down at it, reading it together.

After you had told him—or rather how much he saw on your face, your breath caught in your throat, your eyes begging for more than your brain was allowing your mouth to say, after his hand had wrapped around your throat—it was his idea to do this. To pull you into his lap and read it together, to catalog all the parts that had you squirming, that you wanted to try with him; all of the things you want him to do to you.

And so far you have barely gotten through the first issue, and you’re already heated and staining the cotton of your underwear.

The page you’re at right now has a woman being spanked, the slaps dramatic and drawn to peak the attention of the male gaze, for sure. But the way it depicts the man’s tongue running over her welts, kissing and soothing the pleasurable pain he’s just caused her makes your bottom squirm against his lap. That need to press your thighs together to relieve the pressure from the ache down there more frustrating than feeling Eddie’s jaw move against your skin as he smiles.

“Like that?”

You nod, humming softly. Know if you try to speak right now it’s just going to come out weak and clipped.

“What about,” he speaks low, slow, as he moves his fingers from your arm to flip to the next page. “This,” his pointer taps at the image of the man spreading the women with his forearms to run his tongue along her pussy. His hold on her tight, rough, almost possessive in a way—like a man starved and only she can feed him, can satisfy that hunger.

A shaky breath releases from your lungs, shaking your chest on the inhale, making you lean into Eddie more on the exhale.

His chuckle wafts across your neck as he turns his chin to whisper in your ear, “think we both know how much you love that.”

“Mhm.” You hum again, press your ass back against him. Can feel he’s hard, an echo of a grunt vibrating his chest against your back.

You wondered if this is how Eddie knew how to touch you, to fuck you, to eat you out that very first time he did it. If these pages were the blueprints and he had just copied what he saw. Had run his tongue up your slit, gathering your slick at your entrance to trace back up to your clit, to move the tip of his tongue in slow circles until he suctioned his lips to the sensitive nerve to suck and swallow down your juices.

No matter how many times he ended up between your legs, no matter how long he took down there—savoring every moment, making sure he didn’t stop until your hands were in his hair, hips rolling from the bed, and your cries filling the room—he always did it as if it were going to be the last time he would be able to. Like he was starved.

Like the man looked in the image.

So there was no doubt in your mind that Eddie did pick up a few tricks from the dirty magazines. It made you wonder just how much he had picked up and why he had been holding it back from you. A thought that is surely answered as he keeps asking you if you like that, would wanna do this. He didn’t know you’d be into this kind of stuff and neither did you until now.

But now that you were here, now that your eyes had been opened and you’re seeing a whole other side to what fucking Eddie could be like—the way it was already was heart stopping and left you worshipped, fucked out, and drained—it’s all you wanted.

You wanted it—him—so fucking bad.

He turns the page, then another, and another until the scene of the man pulling the woman into his lap—her legs on either side of him as he leans on his knees as she rides him, his head thrown back in ecstasy as her teeth are at his neck—is in front of you. Making your grip on the magazine tighten a little more as the urge to hold back the need inside of you runs thin. The small movement your ass is continuing to do the only subtle thing you’re allowing yourself, and it’s only making you worse.

“I don’t think I need to ask at this point,” his chuckle is teasing. Should have a playful scowl being aimed in his direction but you can’t be bothered with the effort. Not when his words are filled with nothing but truth and you want him so bad. “But,” the hand pressed to your lower belly moves and you hold your breath. His rings dig into the inside of your thigh as he squeezes the skin at the apex of it, right next to your clothed pussy—inches, centimeters from it. You don’t release your breath until you feel the tip of his finger run along your covered slit. Your body trembling, hips stuttering. “Do you like that?”

With the way his finger keeps running against you, languid and barely pressured, your need almost lets you think he means his fingers. But the soft lips at your shoulder help your brain compute that he means the display in front of you.

“Yes,” you whimper. Feel the edges of the paper digging into your palm when his fingers are pulling your underwear to the side. The cool air of the room on your heat almost a relief, but nothing compared to the burst of pleasure you feel all over your body from Eddie’s fingers running between your wet folds—the sound of your wetness filthy and making your ears heat up with embarrassment at how turned on you were because of these dirty magazines.

When the pad of his finger finally makes contact with your clit the whimpering cry you let out is loud and echoes throughout the room. Your hips tutting forward to roll up into his palm as your head lawls back onto his shoulder.

He gives you a couple free strokes before his other hand is coming to cup your jaw to pull you from his shoulder, “pay attention.” His voice is like gravel pouring into your very soul, like hot coals helping that fire burn, rage.

And you do try your very best to pay attention. To keep your eyes open and on the pages. Try to not let the roll of your hips, the fingers rubbing slow circles against your clit, or the hard cock situated perfectly against your ass that every time you move it rubs between your cheeks.

You’re tired of looking, you want Eddie to actually take you. To push you over, lean over your body, and pound you from behind the way the man is doing on the newest page you’re staring at.

“Eddie,” you moan.

He hums, let’s his fingers run down your jaw, to the column of your neck. Your breath hitching in your lungs. “Do you want me to do that to you?”

Not, do you like that or would you like that; do you want me to do that to you. Fuck.

Your nod is quick and fast. Rattles your brain for half a second, making you feel that much more disorienting.

His fingers dig into the side of your neck, the lightest of squeezes but it still has you crying out, hips stuttering, pussy throbbing. “Who knew you were such a dirty girl.” Eddie’s lips are morphed into a smirk against your cheek. “All this time I was getting off to these mags, imagining doing every filthy thing inside of them to you. Thinking I was some sleazy horndog.” He grunts against your skin as your ass digs harder into him, as you feel yourself so close to coming, so quickly. “And to come find out you’re just as sleazy as me–want me to fuck you like this,” his hand tightens on your neck. Lips press to your cheek, your jawline, teeth nipping at your skin, “my dirty girl.”

The whine you let out when his hand moves from your neck burns the back of your throat. Your protest is there, the need to come, that burn to fall over that precipice being right there.

But it dies in the back of your brain when Eddie pulls the magazine from your fingers to toss it between your shared open legs on the bed, to push you up for the seconds it takes for him to release his cock from its confines—pulling you back into position, except now the heat of his cock is pressed to your slit, his fingers pushing it between your folds until the head of his cock is catching and rubbing perfectly at your clit when his hips rock up into you, when you roll yours against him.

“Show me how bad you want it, sweetheart.”

[aaizawashouta]

one of those nights again

pairing: midoriya izuku x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

summary: when the past haunts you, your future helps you forget

warnings: angst, brief mention of torture, reader has a quirk, smoking, smut ( minors, dni) oral (f receiving), p in v, cream pie

a/n: i did not edit this, so forgive me. might follow up on this with a part 2. who knows

When something is being pulled from you, taken against your will, it hurts. It’s unnatural and unnecessary. Your screams echo off the concrete walls, reminding you that there’s no one coming to save you. Not this time. No one has for the last eight months. You only know this because they taunt you by keeping count. But you try, and you keep on trying. Black tar rolls from the corner of your eyes, black inky veins run up your arms. The signs of an overused quirk. You’re on the verge of passing out. Your body shakes where it’s held down on a metal exam table, fitting for a morgue. This is where you’ll die, and nobody will know.

Just one more time, you try, you plead. You’re not sure if it’s a delusion, a false hope, but you hear it; something. It’s big, and it’s loud, and it’s bullying its way into the building. You never did figure out if it was relief or exhaustion that pulled you under when you saw his face.

His name is on the tip of your tongue. It echoes through you, a phantom pain that will always bring tears to your eyes. Sitting up in a cold sweat, strands of hair stick to your face. It hurts to breathe, like you’re inhaling water. It’s late, you didn’t have to look at the clock to know that. This happens so often your body just knows. Sleep would not be coming back anytime soon. Sighing, you sit up and shove your feet in your slippers. Feeling clammy and slightly nauseous, you hated that this was your new normal. That’s the life of a pro-hero, or at least that’s what they told you anyway. You took what was handed to you – you fought to protect, to survive.

Moving sluggishly even though your mind was wide awake, you slid open the glass door and stepped out into the brisk night air. Faint sounds from the busy streets below made their way to you. One of the reasons you loved the city. There is no silence. It’s never quite quiet enough for you to feel alone. There’s always someone out there. Taking a deep breath, you relax at the familiar cold nip in your lungs. This has always been your favorite time of year. When winter slowly turns into spring. It’s something small that has always brought you peace.

Fingers find the pack of cigarettes left on the patio table, most likely Sero’s. Eyes up to the beautiful night sky, cigarette in one hand and lighter in the other. The sky was dark and decorated with faint, twinkling lights. You're doing your best to ground yourself. With a quick flick of your thumb, the cigarette tips glows orange in the night, dangling loosely from your fingertips. Bringing it up to your lips you inhale and finally feel yourself start to relax. Dropping your head back you watch the smoke slither out between thinly parted lips.

This is only a temporary fix. You're hopeful the shaking in your hands stills. The pounding in your chest slows from a full gallop to a steady rhythm. You hated nights like these. You couldn't sleep, thoughts and distant memories danced behind your eyelids every time you tried to rest. It was going on night four, you weren't sure how much longer you could go without cracking. Chuckling, a sour note to the otherwise pleasant sound. How long could you go without cracking? You were sure you already were. It was just a matter of when the whole dam would break. Especially after the dream you had. Right, yeah. Dream. A nightmare. A memory. Your grip tightens on the railing, eyes cast up to the sky. You’d give anything not to spiral.

A two-toned whistle catches your attention. Out of the dark he appears, as if he heard you calling out for him. Leaning over the rail you look down, breath catching in your throat at the sight of him. Midoriya stands in the alleyway, watching you with a knowing grin. Trailing your eyes over him you note that he’s still in his gear, more than likely just got off patrol. He never made it home, his first stop is you, always you. Chapped lips pull into a tired smile. You pull one last drag from the cigarette before letting it drop to the ground below. Midoriya finally moves, stepping forward to stomp out the bud.

“I thought you were quitting?” He questions before jumping up and landing on your patio.

His bright eyes lit by the dim moonlight. Light was something you always noticed. It’s one of the reasons you took to him so quickly. Izuku Midoriya, you noticed, didn't have darkness in him. Not the way you do. Your eyes fall to your hands, fingers flexing—the dark, inky color spreading from your fingertips. Your hands grip into a tight fist.

“When did I say that?”

“Two nights ago.”

Dammit. You forgot about that. You’d been talking, finishing up paperwork before leaving the agency. He’d asked if there was anything you’d change about yourself, what would it be. Rolling your eyes, looking at him as if he had just asked the stupidest question – which he had – you decided to say something simple.

I’d quit smoking. Heard it’s bad for your lungs.

You snort, shaking your head a little. It’d take a lot more than a damn cigarette to take you down.

Midoriya rocks on his heels in front of you, green eyes taking you in before a smirk appears.

“Nice shirt.”

“Thank you.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Does it?” You ask with a raised brow.

“It does,” he chuckles, taking a few steps closer. “But it’d look better on my bedroom floor.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Why? Because that’s where I found it?”

Choosing to ignore the look he gives you, you move to wrap yourself around him. Why smoke when you have pro hero Deku? He’s so much better for your health and gives you the same effect. Your fingers dig into the material of his suit, securing yourself to him. More than capable of taking care of yourself, but no one makes you feel as safe as Izuku Midoriya.

“You really do look comfy. When’d you snag that one?”

Shrugging, peeking up at him when he kisses the top of your head. Midoriya keeps a tight grip on you as he leads you inside. A worn sigh leaving him when he falls into his spot on the couch. It’s been a long day, and has no signs of ending soon if he plans on doing this with you tonight. You see as the hero melts away from him. The pride in his shoulders, the courage in his spine. Even now, you still can pinpoint the little pieces of All Might that he carries.

It hasn’t been that way for you in almost a year now. Darkness was all you knew. From the time you were seven, darkness followed you around hanging off your shoulder. A shadow that only you could see. Others could see it if you wanted them to. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that someone would want your shadow—your darkness, a plague you could barely control. But that was good that you couldn’t control it, couldn’t control yourself. Because it meant that others could.

Lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him watching you too. There’s something on his mind, something he wants to say. Scarred fingertips trail up and down your arm. A soothing gesture, but not one you can tell is for you or for him.

“What is it?”

You could laugh from how relieved and slightly panicked he looks.

“Maybe you can talk to Kacchan–”

“Izuku,”

Falling back into the couch your gaze lands at your feet. It’s no surprise it's come to this. He’s your best friend, of course he knows you're struggling. That you’ve been struggling for a while now. He’s tried to let you figure it out on your own. Callused fingers grab your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his. Midoriya is no longer on the couch beside you, but kneeling on the floor, warm body pressed up against your knees.

“It’s not the same thing. Your experiences are drastically different. But baby, you are crumbling, falling apart at the seams and I cannot sit here and just watch. It’s killing me, fuck, it’s killing you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to remember. If I could close my eyes and sleep without ever going back there…it’d be a miracle. I don’t want to relive it, Izuku, I want to forget.”

He nods slowly, taking you in. He never let go of your face, his grasp slowly getting tighter. Grabbing his wrist, your fingers dig into skin. He’s showing you he’s not afraid, but you are.

“I can help you forget.”

“Izuku,”

His head tilts. “Lets not pretend this isn't bound to happen.” You squeak when he lifts you up and tosses you over his shoulder. “You know I love you. Now let me help you.”

He takes a few steps before you smack him on the ass. “You’re dirty! You are not getting in your bed like this.”

“I can fuck you in the shower.”

You scoff at his remark. It still surprises you, what you pull out of him. The casualness in the way he bites back. The cocksure and smartass attitude he doesn’t really show for anyone else. It makes your pulse race and your toes curl. He doesn’t put you down until the shower is on and steaming up the bathroom. Your grip is tight on his arms when he finally sets you on your feet. The blood rushing from your head makes you slightly lightheaded.

Midoriya’s hands are warm on your cheeks, fingers tracing over your features. His grip tightening when your lips part, tongue sneaking out to taste his skin. His kiss is urgent, needy, searching, and it sends a shock of warmth through your body, straight down your spine to the heat slowly building between your thighs. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he leads you back until you’re flush against the wall next to the shower. You don't even realize your body is shivering until his hands find the bare skin on your rib cage, pulling his shirt up off your body.

He breaks away from the kiss long enough to search your face before he tugs open the shower curtain, and your stomach flutters as he reaches for the zip of his uniform.

"Wait," you say quickly.

His eyes dart up to yours, and he freezes.

"I want to do this part," you admit, watching as your shaking fingers trace over his own until he drops his hands. You feel his eyes on you as you slowly trail his zipper down, and when you look back up at him, his eyes are darker.

You tug his pants down until they fall to his ankles, where he steps out of them, leaving him in his black boxer briefs, which strain against the outline in the front. He moves quickly, and the shocked laugh that slips through your lips echoes through the bathroom as he reaches down and lifts you by the thighs. Wrapping your legs around his waist with a smile as he steps into the shower, closing the curtain behind you.

The water is a decadent warmth against your skin, but all you can focus on is how his lips are connected to the spot right under your ear that sends electric shocks through your body. your head rolls back the second his teeth graze your nipple, and your arms tighten around his shoulders as you bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet. You’re hypersensitive to his every movement, and when he wraps his lips around your nipple and flicks his tongue in a slow, teasing rhythm, your hips rock involuntarily, grinding against him as a desperate gasp falls from your lips.

Midoriya takes his time exploring your chest with his mouth, nipping, sucking, and when he knots his hands in your hair, he tugs gently to pull your head back as he trails his lips up your neck to the sensitive spot just below your ear. When he bites down and sucks harder than before, your eyes widen and then flutter closed in pure ecstasy.

His grip tightens on your thighs as he grinds against you, and when he adds pressure to the suction on your neck, the pressure building in your stomach flares white-hot. Every gasp turns into a moan. He bites down onto your neck roughly one final time before dragging his tongue against your feverish skin and pulling back. When his eyes find the spot his lips were just connected to, a flash of satisfaction spikes in the emerald there before they meet yours, considering you with a hazy stare.

He steps back from the wall, placing you back onto your feet, and when Midoriya kneels in front of you, the air in your lungs freezes as his thumbs wrap around your underwear. His gaze flicks back up, and you nod instantly, watching as he pulls them down your legs.

He positions your leg over his shoulder, and you try to steady your breathing as you lean your head against the wall. He's slow and teasing as he bites and licks the skin on your inner thigh, wrapping his arms around your thighs to steady your weakening legs.

A breathy, impatient moan slips through your lips when he licks the inside of your thigh in one long, torturous motion. The shocks it sends directly to the swollen bud between your legs is enough to make you dig your fingers in his curls and bring him where you want him most. He chuckles at your impatience, and the sound makes your stomach tighten as you bite down on the inside of your cheek, wanting nothing more than for him to connect his lips to you.

He tightens his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer and your vision goes black when his tongue drags across you. Your breathing turns shallow as you focus on his tongue against your clit, and when he adds more pressure, your hips grind against him desperately.

You’re on the edge, reveling in the intense flood of pleasure, and when he slips a finger into you and hits the electrifying sweet spot deep inside, every muscle in your body tightens at once before releasing in a mind-numbing rush of sensation. The first tidal wave of sweet bliss racks through your body, and you can't seem to quiet the loud, breathy moans that echo through the bathroom. You’ve never been more thankful for the fact that you live alone. Of course, no one has ever made you this loud before. His rough tongue softens into gentle strokes as the aftershocks pulse through you, and the soft caresses slowly bring you down.

When you look down at him, his lips are glossy, and he grins up at you as his tongue slides across his bottom lip. The sight alone nearly makes your legs give out, and when he stands, he reaches behind you to turn off the water as he reconnects your lips. His mouth doesn't leave yours as he pulls open the curtain and hooks his arms under your legs again, and you’re barely aware of anything other than the fact that his tongue is caressing yours in the most delicious way as he carries you out of the bathroom.

When Midoriya leans over, and your back connects with the soft cotton of his sheets, you suck in a much needed breath. He watches as he hovers, eyes dark and wet curls dripping water down his neck to his shoulders and down his chest. The sight alone is enough to make your hips rock up to him, and he reaches down to cup your cheek in his hand as he connects your lips again.

He kisses you long enough for you to lose your breath before finally pulling away and standing up from the bed. When he opens the drawer on his nightstand, the heat pulsing between your legs flares as you watch him slip his drenched boxers down his legs. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you stare. You’re not sure how it’s going to fit, but you know damn well that you’re going to make it. Leaning back into the comforter when he looks back at you, you grab his face and bring his lips to yours, desperate for the feel of his tongue on yours again. He gives you exactly what you want, and a shiver races down your spine as he leans on his elbow, freeing his hand to explore your body again.

You’re nervous, excited, and impatient, and you can tell by the slow pace of his fingers on your skin that he's taking this slower than he usually would. As if he can tell that your heart is nearly racing out of your chest.

Rough fingers start on your cheek and trail down your neck, tracing your collarbones, before dipping around your breast where the pad of his thumb skims over the smooth skin to your ribs. The feel of his calloused hands makes your hips rock against him, and his erection presses heavily against your stomach as he continues his slow descent. His lips never leave yours, and he brushes his tongue against yours slowly, teasingly as he grabs onto your hip tightly. A throaty groan sounds in the back of his throat, and when his fingers finally delve lower to find the pulsing heat between your legs, you push up into his hand, desperate for relief. His thumb grazes over your clit, brushing torturously slow circles that send a flood of pleasure through your veins as he moves his hips, lining you up perfectly.

He's pushed up against you softly but pauses, like he knows that you might need a minute to catch up, his lips leave yours and trail down your neck to your shoulders, peppering soft kisses as he goes. When he pulls back to look at you, you reach up and brush his curls out of his eyes, and he captures your hand with his own, bringing your fingers to his lips to press a soft kiss onto the tip of each one. When his teeth graze roughly across your palm, a shocked gasp slips from between your lips, and the white-hot heat pulsing between your legs flares.

"Izuku, don’t tease." You’re practically panting, and the sound pulls a smug smile onto his lips, enough to gently dent the dimple in his cheek.

When he brings his lips down to yours again, they're searing and searching and claiming, and the gasp that slips from your lips is lost between you when his hands grip your hips tightly, and he pushes into you. It's the most intoxicating sensation, and your body ignites in a flood of heat when he pulls out and thrusts again, hard enough to elicit a shocked gasp as you try to catch your breath.

When he grabs you harder, you can barely focus on anything other than the overwhelming sensation of him. He's everywhere, all around you, inside of you, gripping your hips, breathing the most intoxicating groans into your ear, brushing soft kisses across your throat, sending a shiver down your spine at the feel of his stubble grazing your neck.

The sounds slipping from your lips aren't even your own anymore as the rhythmic rocking of your bodies pulls you somewhere else entirely. You’ve never felt anything like this before. It's as if every experience you’ve ever had leading up to this point has been erased. Every touch, every clumsy kiss, every single moment shared in dark rooms with anyone else—it's all gone because it doesn't even fall into the same stratosphere as this.

"You feel—fuck, baby girl, you’re fucking amazing."

You thread your fingers through the soft curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down to press your lips to his. His tongue slides into your mouth, and you taste the spearmint on his breath mixed with the flavor of the last cigarette on your breath from earlier. It coats your tongue until it's all you can think about, and when he groans into the kiss, the now-familiar pressure between your thighs builds dangerously, tightening every muscle in your body until your back is arched and you're clinging to him desperately. Nails leaving little crescent moons in his back.

His tongue brushes yours softly, tenderly, and it's an intoxicating contrast to the rough thrust of his hips. He lifts your leg higher, pulling them away from his waist, and when he hits the spot deep inside of you, your moan catches in your throat as everything outside of the man you’re clinging to falls away and your veins flood with the kind of mind-numbing pleasure that you’ve only known right here with him.

His fingers dig into your thighs as the orgasm rocks through you. His movements become quicker and more desperate, you know he's on the edge, too. He gives one final thrust of his hips, and when his breathy groan echoes between you, you reach up and run your fingers through his still-damp curls, grazing your lips across the feverish skin on his neck.

He sinks onto you, hands unclenching from his hold on you, and you know without a doubt there will be bruises. Holding his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing you, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. He finally pulls back after a minute, and the sated warmth in his eyes is possibly the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Grinning down at you, he sweeps a wayward strand of hair away from your face before brushing his thumb across your cheek, giving you a sweet, chaste kiss.

It’s silent as your breathing evens out. You’re not freaking out, which is a good sign. There’s no doubt that it all has to do with Izuku. You wouldn’t have made it very far with anyone else. Hell, he’s the only one you let touch you after you were rescued. No wonder he thinks there’s something wrong with you. It doesn’t matter that he’s right.

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

“We can’t do this every time. It’s not healthy.”

Midoriya snorts, pulling you into him as he lays on his back to stare at the ceiling. “No, we can’t, but it is fun.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “I’ll go see Kat on Monday.”

“That’ll make him happy. I’m not the only one who’s been worried about you.”

Being captured and tortured hasn’t messed with the way you do your job. But it's a known fact that you aren’t the same anymore. They held you for almost a year, trying to extract your quirk from you. They wanted to bottle it up and sell it to anyone that would pay for it. You can’t even remember how many times you begged for death to take you.

“I’m not – I’m not. It’s – I’m –”

“Shh. Easy, babe, I know. It’s alright. One step at a time. THis is the biggest one you can take.”

There is no judgment, no pity. Just love, adoration and a warmth that is all Izuku. You’re not sure you’ve done anything good enough in your life to deserve him, but he wants you anyway. You relax, wrapping yourself around him, clinging to his heat. Your eyes flutter as he trails his fingers lazily up and down your arm. He knows he can’t fix you, but he’ll do anything to help.

[actual-changeling]

this is some self-indulgent, directly post-divorce crowley angst, i am 100% responsible for any emotional damage this might (probably will) cause. enjoy.

CW for mild self harm mentions/descriptions, nothing graphic

-

His flat is dark when he returns.

It always was, and up until this very moment, it had never bothered him before; yet as he watches the door swing open, he feels a wave of apprehension. Even the metal underneath his fingertips has an unfamiliar chill to it. After driving for hours late into the night, his mind painfully numb, the Bentley eventually chose a well-known road and brought him back—well, 'home' is certainly one way of putting it.

It was never one to begin with, but now it is the only place he has left.

Some of the city's shine flows through the windows, but it is barely enough to move the shadows below them, let alone reach the hallway. Crowley presses his palm against the door frame and tries to remember how to breathe, grabbing his glasses with his free hand as he squeezes his eyes shut. When Shax took over, he had spent a week arguing with himself over whether or not to tell Aziraphale, slowly settling on a 'yes' with a growing spark of fearful excitement.

Until he remembered their conversation on the bench.

(I don't think my side would like that.)

Until he thought back to the bandstand, flicking through the years like a photo album and revisiting all the times he had asked for something, anything, and the answer he received.

(You go too fast for me, Crowley.)

No, it would have to come from Aziraphale, and maybe, he repeated to himself over and over whenever he decided to drop by, with just a little more time, he finally would. After saving the world, after escaping heaven and hell, after sitting in the Ritz for hours, Crowley dared to hope.

Four years later, he had long since realised his mistake.

(Nothing lasts forever.)

A crack rips him back to the present, dull pain attempting to separate the veil of numbness and failing, and he drops the crushed remains of glass and metal to the floor before stepping over it. The door quietly falls shut behind him, locks thoughtlessly click into place, and he distantly acknowledges the need for new security measures, not that he currently cares much about anything.

Let them come for him; he has nothing more to lose.

Sliding down the closest wall, he listens to the roughened surface scratching the fabric of his suit, finding that once he sits with his knees pulled against his chest, the physical place loses importance.

"Maybe it's not the dark," he whispers to himself, the thoughts thick and sluggish like honey in his mind. "Maybe it's not the dark, but the quiet."

His own words are haunting him, ringing in his ears and sticking to the back of his throat, and for a moment, he considers simply getting up and walking away. The earth is a graveyard of memories, London is a mass grave collapsing in on itself, and it's not like being anywhere else would change the fact that he was alone.

Alone.

The earth was empty, just like it had been when he sat in a burning bookshop.

Flames licking at his skin would be preferable to the ache underneath it, every cell remembering the fleeting press of warmth, of Aziraphale, his just for a handful of seconds. When he traces his lips with his fingertips, he catches a hint of copper, and it's ash and soot branding him despite his miraculously clean body, it's begging and asking and pleading, it's a mouth opening and the euphoric shiver that followed.

Love, fire, loss, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue no matter how much time passes, and if he weren't wrapping his arms around himself while curled up on the floor, he might have been able to tap back into his anger, the indignant rage Aziraphale's words woke within him.

The weight of the last week hits him all at once as the adrenaline in his body finally starts to fade, the pressure tightly constricting his lungs and forcing a choked gasp out of him. He rests his forehead on his knees, his palms seeking the grounding cold of the cement.

"No nightingales." Crowley scrapes his nails across the floor, the words barely audible even to himself. "Fucking idiot, I just had to hope again, didn't I? Too many fucking questions."

It's not the quiet either. It's not the dark or the empty halls, it's not a pristine, dusty bed or imperfect plants lining the windows. It's the fact that even now, he knows exactly what he will do, surrounded by everything he has after losing the one thing that actually mattered.

He will stay right here, and he hates himself for it, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip until salt explodes in his mouth, but it won't change.

Aziraphale has gone, so Crowley does what he always does—wait for him to come back.

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x gender neutral!reader

A/N: the end of this one is loosely inspired by Bridget Jones bc Im ovulating x

Gentleman

Since the day you joined the team, you have made it your mission to consistently go out of your way to show Spencer Reid just how much he means to you. The more you’ve come to know him, the more personal your gestures have become, the more sentiment you are capable of hand delivering. By nature, you are a thoughtful person, but the second you were introduced to Spencer, you could see how little regard he had for himself, for treating himself kindly, for any amount of mistreatment that continued to beat him down - and you decided that it was your job, above all else, to show him how wonderful he truly was, the kindness he deserved to receive. 

Whether it be memorizing and delivering his preferred coffee order every morning, surprising him with chocolate and sprinkle-covered donuts, always backing him up in every circumstance - no matter how unserious, always jumping to his defense, always checking in with him, consistently inviting him out for small events that you know he’d enjoy; the list only goes on. And in the wake of your endless list of sentimental gestures, to Doctor Spencer Reid, you are nothing short of an angel. His own, personal, blessing. 

For some time, Spencer has been debating asking you whether you would consider developing your relationship beyond the wonderful friendship you have established, whether you had ever pondered the idea of, perhaps, going on a date with him, sometime, wherever and whenever you wanted. The fear of rejection and the fear of ruining the bliss that is his bond with you, has forced Spencer to continually back out of confessing to you, but with every passing day, you show him just how good life can be and he has no choice but to fall for you even further.

Today is his mother’s birthday, so naturally he has booked it as a holiday from work to spend with her. Upon entering her room, he finds her cooing over a huge bouquet of orange tulips. Pausing in her doorway, Spencer takes a moment to ingrain the image in his mind, to treasure a few precious seconds of his mother smiling in a daze over her favorite flowers, before he steps inside. 

“Hey Mom, happy birthday.” He greets her quietly, hoping not to disturb her. 

She doesn’t say anything, just looks over her shoulder with the same smile on her face. 

Strolling over to stand beside her, he examines the bouquet. “Who gave you these, hmm? They’re beautiful.” He says softly, gently pulling apart a few of the stems to retrieve a small note that only has ‘Happy Birthday Diana x’ written on it.

There is no name signed on the note, but Spencer feels his heart skipping a beat as his eyes scan the little piece of paper, because he recognises the handwriting quicker than he would his own. Though the realization very nearly kills him where he stands, he has no choice but to push it to the back of his mind and prioritize spending the day with his mother, but he finds her glancing over at the bouquet almost as often as he does, sharing a fond smile; hers for the flowers themselves, him for their sender.

That evening, as the sun sets, he finds himself waiting on an all too familiar doorstep with a bouquet of someone else’s favorite flowers in his hands. He wonders if he has arrived a little too early, understanding better than most how late you could arrive home from work, but thanks to a text from Penelope, he knows the team haven’t left on a case today. 

Much to Spencer’s relief, he is only fidgeting idly and tapping his shoes against your doorstep for an hour before your car pulls into your driveway. From beyond the windscreen, he sees you light up at the sight of him, switching your engine off and gathering your things as quickly as possible to scramble out of the car. 

“Spencer! How are you? How is your mom? I hope you both had the most wonderful day!” You chime, speeding over to the door and instinctively opening your arms to pull him into a hug, but faltering when you see the flowers. “What’s this?”

Spencer takes a deep breath. “It’s a thank you, or the start of one.”

You frown, your arms falling to your sides. “Spencer, you never need to thank me, not for-”

He shakes his head, stopping you in your tracks. “Believe me, just one bouquet is not enough to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, for the person that you are, but I hope these are a start.” He holds the flowers out to you and with a soft smile, you take them from him.

“Thank you.” 

“Thank you!” Spencer corrects you. “For everything, every moment you’ve spent with me, every word you’ve ever said to me, every smile you’ve ever given me- Thank you for the flowers you sent my mom, I have never known anyone who would think to do something so incredibly kind. Most of all, I want to thank you for taking such good care of my heart ever since the day we met, when you stole it right out of my chest.” 

Tears sting your eyes at his words, his gratitude and the feelings that pour so freely from his lips after so long, the sentiments you have been desperate to hear from the moment you first saw him. 

“Spencer, you really, really don’t need to thank me for anything, but for the sake of agreeing to disagree, you are welcome. And, for the record, it is an honor to take care of your heart. Thank you for letting me borrow it.” You say, voice gentle, somewhat afraid of the potential desire he may have to create some distance between you, having realized how close the two of you actually are.

“Oh, I don’t want it back. Not ever, in fact. Not having a heart does have its drawbacks, though, so, if you are happy to keep ahold of mine, would you do me the honor of letting me take care of yours in return?” Spencer asks, a playful smile on his face that you are more than happy to return.

“My, my, I never thought the day would come when I would know something that the smartest man in the world doesn’t!” You grin at him, his own smile widening with yours, urging you to continue. “Spencer, my heart ran from me and straight to you the second I laid eyes on you.”

As your words sink in, his jaw drops slightly, as though genuinely in disbelief at how obvious your feelings for each other have been since the start. 

A blissful eternity of comfortable silence passes before the genius can find the words he wants to say. 

“Well, if I have had your heart all this time, in the same way you’ve had mine, I can’t really take care of your heart as thanks, as I’ve apparently been doing that already.” His voice is hoarse, still coming to terms with the fact that you really do reciprocate his feelings for you.

“So, where does that leave us?” You ask, a teasing tone lacing your words.

“I believe it leaves us here, on your porch, with me afraid to ask you a question.” He answers matter-of-factly.

You chuckle up at him. “Spencer, you don’t ever have to be afraid of asking me anything.” 

He swallows nervously, nodding at you before avoiding your eyes and clearing his throat. In his heart, Spencer knows you are right, you usually are, especially when it comes to him, but unfortunately that does little to build his confidence in asking you such a question. Still, he has come this far, he knows he will never be able to sleep again if he backs out this time. Taking a second to compose himself, he lifts his head to meet your patient smile again. 

“May I kiss you?” 

His question hangs in the air, asked so quietly he wonders if you even heard him, but in truth he knows that regardless of the volume, you would have read his lips and understood him immediately. He was, is and continues to be your favorite book to study.

You are smiling so hard your face hurts, but you don’t care at all. Quite frankly, nothing matters in this moment except for the question Spencer just asked you. And after the confidence he conjured to put that request to you, who are you to deny him?

“Of course you can, whenever and wherever you like.” You answer, just as quietly as he had posed his question. 

Spencer’s stomach somersaults as he takes the one step required to close the space between you, relishing every microsecond that it takes to lift his hands and cup your face, stare into your very soul closer than he ever has before. Closing his eyes, the image of you remains as clear as day, so ingrained in his mind that on the rare occasion something else is at the forefront of his thoughts, you are always in the background, like his favorite song that plays continually, serving as the soundtrack to his life. He leans in and is surprised when he meets your lips half a second earlier than anticipated. When Spencer concludes another half a second later that you have stood on your tiptoes to meet him in his descent to your lips, his heart flutters in his chest. He feels your hands holding his against your face, then lifting to run through his curls, tugging gently at them as his own hands lower to your waist, effortlessly guiding you back until you are against your front door. Butterflies and fireworks of every color swirl in and around the two of you, encapsulating you in your own isolated universe, safe and tucked away from anything and everything else, save for thoughts of each other and every unsaid word that can now be told in a language the two of you have never known before. As the kiss deepens, your passion for each other raises the stakes of the situation substantially and the tension makes it difficult for either of you to breathe. 

Pulling away from Spencer just enough to see his face, you make a breathless observation. “Hold on a minute, gentlemen don’t kiss like that.”

Chuckling darkly, he rests his forehead against yours. “Speaking as a profiler as well as a gentleman, I can assure you that I am very much capable of reading your body language and kissing you in accordance with whatever your body asks of me.”

Managing to regain control of your breathing, you nod your head against his. “Speaking as a profiler and as someone that knows you incredibly well, I don’t doubt that for a single second, Doctor Reid.”

Smirking, Spencer lowers his head to brush his lips against yours, breath fanning your face and raising goosebumps in his wake. 

“Good.”

[spenceragnewfics]

AHHHHHH AHHHHH TAHT was amazing!!!!?

could we get a spencer where his partner gives him head under his pc while he’s in a discord chat

So I decided to do F!reader for this one and it's probably going to be my default unless asked otherwise because for some reason, this was easier for me to write.

UNDER THE DESK | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader | 18+ MINORS DNI

TW: Oral (m receiving)

Word Count: 1.4k

Description: Life can be very stressful. Especially when your boyfriend is always busy. When Y/N and Spencer finally get a night to themselves, work seems to never be done but Y/N is determined to give Spence some stress relief.

Spencer is a very busy guy. This is something Y/N has known since the two met years ago back when he was just an editor. Now, as the director of Smosh Games, he’s even busier than he used to be.

This has made couple time limited, but mainly it’s because Y/N doesn’t want to disturb Spencer from his work. She knows that if she told him how she’s felt lately he would drop everything and spend time with her. That’s why she doesn’t, he asks for so little and it feels wrong to her to ask for that.

That’s how she’s found herself in this situation. Spencer finally had a night off so the two decided to have a movie night at his place with their favorite take out and movies. The night started innocently, the two cuddled on the couch, shared sweet kisses, silly jokes, and playful touching.

It was innocent until she slipped her tongue in his mouth and it was the sign they both had been waiting for. Weeks of not being able to touch each other much, palpable tension, and little remarks had made this moment something they both needed. Stress of work and life in general had been taking their toll.

Spencer is laying on the couch while Y/N is straddling him. Their hips grinding against each other while his lips are working on her neck. Soft moans and sighs are coming from both of them before its interrupted by the shrill of Spencer’s phone.

“What the fuck? What could someone need now?” He groans, moving away from the girl. She pouts and tries to pull him back, “Babe, I’m sure it’s not important. Just stay here.” She practically begs while wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Spencer stops for a second, considering it until he sees who it is calling. “I can’t, Alé is calling. It must be important because she doesn’t call this late unless it is. I’m so sorry.” He apologizes before giving her a peck. She sighs while getting off his lap, “Hey, boss lady, what’s up?” He asks as he heads to his office. He turns and sends a kiss before he disappears down the hall.

Y/N sits on the couch with a pouty expression and arms crossed as she watches the movie in front of her. Her phone buzzes, signaling she got a text. Looking at the phone, she sighs when it shows that Spencer texted ‘Babe, I am so sorry! We have to do something for games tonight and it’s super important. I’m gonna be on discord for a while. I’m so sorry. I love you’ 

‘It’s okay, pretty boy. I love you too’ she replies before tossing her phone next to her on the couch. Frustrated, she lays on the couch and sighs. It seems like no matter what, she can never have a night of just her and Spencer.

Deciding to just pass time, she gets comfortable on the couch and watches the movie. It was a little over halfway through, so she’s hoping by the time the movie is over her boyfriend will be free and they can continue where they left off.

The movie goes by quickly and still no Spencer. Getting off the couch, she walks down the hallway towards his office to what is going on. The door is slightly open, making it easy for Y/N to see in the room. Her heart swells when she sees her boyfriend working on his computer.

“Alex, come on dude! How can this still be happening?” Spencer practically whines as he slumps in his chair. Y/N can’t hear what Alex says as he has his headset on but whatever it is makes her boyfriend even more upset.

Walking back to the kitchen, she gets some pizza then grabs him a drink. Walking back to his office, she knocks and walks in. He turns when he hears the noise and smiles when he sees Y/N. “Hey, love. I’m sorry this is taking so long.” He apologies, kissing her hand when she gets close enough.

“It’s okay, baby. You seem stressed so I got you some food.” Y/N sets the plate down along with the drink. Leaning down, she kisses the top of his head and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “You’re a lifesaver. I’m sorry our night turned into me doing work, again.” She hums and starts to rub his shoulders.

Spencer enjoys the feeling as he continues with the problem at hand and talking with the games crew to fix it. He gets so focused on it, he almost misses the fact of Y/N climbing under the desk. Taking off his headset, he looks at her confused. “Babe, the fuck are you doing?”

“Shh, just relax, Spence. Let me take care of you.” Y/N says, biting her lip as she rubs his thighs. Her hands slowly move up to the waistband of his sweats as he takes a deep breath, “Act like I’m not even here.” She whispers as she pulls down his sweats.

Spencer clears his throat as he puts his headset back on. He holds back a moan as her tongue licks a long stripe from the base to his tip. She smirks to herself as she continues to tease him. Open mouth kisses along it and kitten licks, the sound of his breath getting quicker keeps her motivated.

Her tongue swirls around the tip before she takes him into her mouth, the warm feeling envelopes Spencer which erupts a groan from him which he quickly covers with a cough. Her mouth goes up and down slowly, taking more and more into her mouth with each bob.

When she gets about half-way, she takes the rest of him in her mouth without warning. “Holy fuck.” He practically yells as a hand reaches out to be placed in her hair. “Sorry dude, I’m just…really frustrated right now.” He says with gritted teeth to Alex as the girl beneath him giggles which sends vibrations through him.

Spencer looks down, his blue eyes locking with Y/N’s eyes as she smirks at him with her mouth full. This is a photo he would love to take a savour but sadly his phone is out of reach.

Y/N taps his hand, signaling for him to guide her, which he is more than happy too. His hand finds a good amount of hair to hold onto before he moves her head up and down. Throwing his back, he basks in the feeling of her mouth on him, enjoying every second of his favorite person making him feel good. Something he has needed for a while with all the stress he’s been under.

Her hand reaches out and gently plays with his ball as he continues to guide her. He soon lets go and she takes her mouth off of him with a small pop. She giggles as she strokes it, covered by her saliva. “Babe, please. I’m almost done.” Spencer whines, his mic away from him.

“But I like being right here.” She says before putting her mouth back on him. “Y/N” He moans before moving his mic back. She sets a good pace moving her head up and down and stroking what she can’t fit in her mouth.

“Alex, can we-” Spencer starts but pauses to let out a shaky breath, “Can we finish this tomorrow? I think we did all we can..all we can at home.” Spencer asks, his voice shaky as he tries to get off the discord call. 

Increasing her speed, Y/N locks eyes with Spencer again before taking him fully in her mouth. “Okay, okay, fine, we can try one more thing.” He says begrudgingly as he slides his hand back into Y/N’s hair.

A twitch is felt in Y/N’s mouth as Spencer starts to buck his hip into her mouth. Letting him take the reins, she keeps eye contact as he throws his headset off and cums in her mouth. “Holy fuck, love, fuck!” He groans, his head thrown back as her mouth fills.

“Oh, love, I didn’t even ask-” He starts but she quickly shakes her head before swallowing. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” She says, giggling before leaning up to kiss him. “Now, finish up with whatever you’re doing and we can have some real fun.” Y/N crawls from under the table then kisses Spencer one more time before walking out of his office. Leaving him breathless as he grabs his headset once again.

[saikokirakira]

We're Not Married Yet [Jake Lockley x Reader]

word count: 2.5k

summary: you received nothing but radio silence from your partners for months. one day, jake comes home and calls you by an unknowingly offensive endearment. your insecurity acts up, and jake won't give up control until he fixes it.

a/n: more ANGST. MORE! *insert kylo ren meme* don't worry though. it's just miscommunication. also, it's time for our boy jake to shine and show his simpery. and the thought of this fic came from listening to "porque" by maldita and also finding out that querida is an endearment in spanish. in filipino, it means the complete opposite opposite – a married man's lover/mistress.

warnings: can be standalone; ANGST with fluff ending; hurt and comfort; separation anxiety/fear of abandonment; miscommunication/language barrier; insecurity in a poly-relationship (hinting at my wife layla in the loop as well); jake lockley is a simp and kinda romantically intense; use of chavacano (spanish-creole filipino language) by a non-speaker (so idk how it would translate for jake who is fluent in spanish) (just assume he does understand it lol)

It has been months. Months since Marc woke up and said Khonshu needed him somewhere. He and the god insisted that you stay home after a little mishap got you seriously injured from the last mission. You didn’t argue.

You just wished that there wasn’t any radio silence between you and them. When the first week passed, you managed to find out that they were with Layla, but neither of them bothered to call. They just left you to be the goldfish sitter. Not that you minded that much at first. You knew that Marc was still bothered over the fact that he accidentally killed Real Gus.

During the first month, you thought you were going crazy. You stopped by every day at Steven’s flat to feed the Gus-es and check his tank. Then you’d make yourself some tea and call out, “Do you want one, Steven?” before realizing that you were alone.

Halfway through the third month, you somewhat grew accustomed to the routine. Sometimes, you would spend the night at his flat, not because it was easier – it was harder actually – but because you were afraid that you might forget them. It was a silly thing to worry about, but you didn’t want to be so used by their absence that the feelings would just go away.

You used to have a whole speech on what to yell at them the moment one of them steps through that door, but now… you weren’t quite sure what to say. You’d be lucky if you’d get a word out as a matter of fact. Maybe you could get a slap in.

They came back on the last week of the fourth month.

You just finished cleaning the two Gus’ filter, which probably took longer than you should have. You felt like you were running slow when you woke up that morning. Putting on music on the speakers, you had planned to make a quick sandwich for lunch then curl back in bed.

Bakit sa’yo pa nagkagusto? // Why did I like you out of everyone else?

Parang bula ika’y naglaho // Like a bubble, you disappeared

Between the heavy daze in your mind and the music crooning all over the flat, you didn’t notice at all that the front door swung open. You had your back to him when Jake silently set his newsboy cap and leather gloves on the side. He was very careful that you weren’t holding anything that would injure you or him when he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

As expected, you stiffened and immediately relaxed when you recognized that scent. You hated how you still know it too well. The flat had been long cleared of any of their scent after the first month, and you cried about it for a whole night once.

But now, you weren’t sure what to feel. Like you expected, you wouldn’t muster any words. You couldn’t even distinguish the emotions bubbling in the pit of your stomach. Anger, relief, sadness, happiness?

Instead, all you said was “Jake?”

He merely hummed then buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in after months away. He didn’t want to let you go, even when you tried to move so you can turn to face him. He immediately felt months’ worth of tension leave his body. That and the soft music playing in the background started to make him aware of his fatigue.

“Let’s go to bed, hm?” you offered, catching the slight tired slump of his shoulders.

Jake hummed in acknowledgement again, but instead of walking normally, his hands moved from your waist to threading your fingers together, swaying you through the music across the apartment. Jake held you close to him as you both continued to sway in the free space near the foot of Steven’s bed. He didn’t understand a word of what the song meant, that is, until the chorus played again.

Bien simple lang I yo tapidi // What I ask is simple

Era cin ti tu el cosa yo ya cin ti // I hope you feel my sorrow

Jake still didn’t understand it completely, but fragments of the lyrics, chosen few of the words, he caught and interpreted the gist of it. He stopped moving and tucked his finger under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Is that how you feel, querida?” he asked.

Jake didn’t miss how your eye twitched at the nickname.

You tried to not to let it bother you. You really did. It’s his endearment for you. Jake rarely fronted, and when he did, he was incredibly loving towards you. There was no reason to take offense on what he calls you.

Hiding your discomfort, you buried your face in his chest and continued to sway. “It’s just a song, Jake,” you said. “My playlist is on shuffle.”

Na dimio rezo ta pidi yo // In my prayers, I ask

Era olvida yo contigo // I hope I forget you

“Well, I don’t like it,” Jake said bluntly with a plump pout on his lip. He stopped dancing once again and walked to turn off the speaker. “Let’s go to bed, querida.”

Again, Jake saw you relent but not only after you exhaled in a self-soothing manner. He pulled you under the covers, and you fell asleep within a few minutes. You seemed tired, emotionally drained to the point that you’d sleep to avoid them, and even though Jake was exhausted as well, his worry for you now kept him up.

I told you we were gone too long. Can she no longer stand endearments? Steven piped in their head. Let me have control. I want to talk to her.

“I’ll fix it,” Jake assured him, cutting himself silent when you stirred. He tucked you deeper into the covers and watched the furrow between your brows relax.

Jake will fix it. He always did. That’s why he’s fronting now when the others couldn’t even forcibly take control. Something was wrong.

~

When you woke up a few hours in the late afternoon, you were still tangled up in your boyfriend’s arms. You couldn’t tell who would be out once he woke up, but you were sure that if it were either Marc or Jake, they’d wake up as soon as you sit up in bed. Your thoughts were answered when the grip around your waist tightened when you tried to slither off to the corner of the bed.

“Marc?”

An agitated huff told you that you were mistaken. The sleepy daze immediately wore off. If he was still fronting, something might be wrong. “Is everything okay, Jake?”

“I don’t know, querida. Is there?”

At his pointed question, you immediately closed up. “You’re the one who disappeared for months without contacting me,” you shot back. “I’m surprised you didn’t mail me divorce papers as well.”

“We’re not married yet, querida.”

You scoffed and got out of bed, stomping your way to the kitchen. You took the tea tin and took a bag, then slamming the cabinet shut. It was only until you were filling up the kettle on the faucet did you realise your hands were shaking and tears were dripping on your outstretched arms.

Well, done, Fabio. You really did so well. Marc snarked at Jake from the mirror in front of their bed. Let me out.

“No.”

Let me out! Marc demanded.

Let him out, Jake. Steven pleaded. She needs—

“What? You? Us? Who exactly? We left. Everything will be exactly the same if either of you comes out.”

From the kitchen, you peered at Jake arguing with Marc and Steven from the mirror. There was no doubt they all were concerned now from your outburst. You didn’t even know why you were upset.

Well, you were, are, upset that they disappeared like ghosts for months. What you didn’t understand was why Jake’s endearment bothered you even more. It was an endearment. It’s not like he knew your language that well to deliberately calling you negative names.

Jake was cursing up a fury at the mirror when you silently sat on the spot beside him at the edge of the bed. He immediately stopped staring at his reflection to look at you. Really look at you. That’s one thing you loved about Jake. His gaze made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered to him. More than Khonshu. More than…

You shook the thought from your head. It was absurd to be jealous of your lovers that way. It wasn’t fair to you nor was it fair to them.

“Talk to me,” you said, grasping his hand in between yours.

“You didn’t deserve it. I know you deserve better, but I want you, cariño. You’re all I’ve wanted. I will always come back to you.”

In the background, you heard the electric kettle click itself off, but you were more focused on Jake baring his feelings for you. He was barely around for as long as you knew Marc and Steven, but he had never failed in being sincere with how he felt for you. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed.

Jake’s face fell, and if you could only see what he saw, Marc lowered his eyes in the mirror, while Steven retreated back in the recesses of their mind. Even Khonshu was eerily silent and nowhere to be found, which was odd enough as it is. The god was fond of you in his own way that he kept a safe distance hovering nearby.

“Don’t be,” you said. “I know what I signed up for when I decided to be with an Avatar.” You let out a weak chuckle at the unintentional reference. “Steven would’ve loved that one.”

“Do you wish to talk with him instead, cariño?”

You didn’t miss the hurt that seeped through Jake’s words. You barely spent time with him, and you knew him the shortest. You shook your head and cupped your hands over his cheeks, tilting his head to face you.

The same furrowed brow wrinkled his forehead again, and if it wasn’t for the stiffness in his eyes, the conflicted look behind those brown orbs would’ve easily misled you to think he was Marc. Jake’s hard expression was easily remedied when you pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. The hurt and fear were now exposed, and you had to come clean with your own issues.

“I’m not mad that you left for months,” you said and immediately caught yourself at Jake’s pointed look. “Okay, yes, I was mad, but only during the first month, especially when I found out that you took Layla with you.”

“It wasn’t all us, love.” Steven snuck out for a moment. “But she was also worried that it was too early for you to take this mission on.” His eyes rolled back, and Jake was back, annoyed from those few seconds of being interrupted.

“Sometimes…” you took a deep breath, finding the right words to say, “I feel like I’m just a liability to you guys, you and Layla.”

This time it was Marc who took the wheel. “You can easily put us on our asses, baby,” he laughed softly, trying to lighten your mood. “Sure, we’d put up a fight, but your powers are kinda scary sometimes.”

Your hands pressed against Marc’s chest before gripping his jacket in tight fists as if you were scared that he’d vanish after your next words. “That’s not what I mean, Marc.”

When the realization dawned on his face, Marc immediately cupped your face. “Why on earth would you even think that?” he asked, hurt from your words and from how you felt. “I mean, you were dating Steven when he had no idea of Layla and my existence, and we were even on the verge of divorce by then.” He continued, “and Jake… Well, I think Jake only likes you. That ass only shows up when one of us are dying or when it comes to you.

“And Layla adores you. Otherwise, she didn’t finish our job for us just so we can come back to you,” he added. Swallowing whatever weight that clogged his throat, he finally said, “You’re a part of this crazy relationship whether you like it or not.” Realizing what he accidentally implied, he softly asked, “If… if you were to leave…” He trailed off, his voice ending in a shuddering breath. His shoulder tensed for a split second, and he was gone, overwhelmed from his own fears.

“We will marry you in a heartbeat,” Jake said, grasping your hand. “If that meant you would never leave us.” That wide-eyed gaze he pointed at you showed that he was frighteningly sincere.

But it was quickly cut off with Steven nervously chuckling. “If you would have us, love,” he said. “Of course, consent is key. No need to be psycho about it,” he shot a pointed glance at the mirror.

You exhaled, feeling all the tension and issues wafting away from a single breath. “One thing though,” you stated.

“What is it, querida?” Jake returned, and this time, he finally noticed the twitch in your eye from the endearment he gave you.

“Two things I hate though,” you corrected yourself through gritted teeth. “Call me anything but that word, and propose to me properly. And we won’t have any problems.”

Jake would never admit it but the coldness in your voice and suddenly shifting to a sweet smile after you listed your terms made the hairs on his arms stand a bit.

Later that evening, Jake discreetly looked up what ‘the forbidden endearment’ meant on Steven’s phone. He sucked in a sharp breath at his massive mistake, and a pit formed in his stomach when it sank that he had been accidentally feeding your insecurity all this time. He immediately rushed over to you on the stove and pulled you into his arms.

“Jake! What the—” Unable to pull yourself out of his embrace, you barely managed to reach for the stove and turn the heat to low before you accidentally burn down his flat. “Now barely seems like the time to—”

“You’re the only one for me. I revere you. I fear you. I worship you. Cariño, mi vida, mi corazón​…”

You laughed in the midst of your confusion while Jake pulled you in for a tight hug. “What brought this on?” Your eyes landed on Steven’s phone at the kitchen counter with the latest search page still on display. A more genuine smile tugged at your lips as you buried your face into his chest, embracing his warmth.

“Also, I’m marrying Layla first.”

SMACK!

You barely registered the sting on your bottom when you were pushed away. Steven’s wide-eyed puppy eyes gazed at you in horror. His mouth hung open in surprise as he raised his hands in innocence.

“It wasn’t me. I swear!” Steven cried out. Then he paused, glancing off somewhere. “Jake says he’ll be back once he gets a ring before Layla comes home next week.”

[berryhobii]

OMG HI😭😭i love your writing so much like im obsessed you’re so talented!!! i see your request are open and i just wanted to see if you do something where it’s after Yoongi and Y/N get into petty argument and Y/N is like “you know what? whatever” and gives Yoongi the silent treatment however, Yoongi hates being ignored (especially by his girl) so after giving her some space for a few hours and trying to get her to talk to him, he’s had enough oh the silence and decides to take matters into his own hands 🫣 I HOPE THIS MADE SENSE😭😭😭this thought has been running rampant in my mind for a week and i would love to see how you would write this ! there’s no rush, take your time if you don’t feel like it that’s TOTALLY okay i just want you to know that you’re writing is IMMACULATE, chefs mf kiss 🤌🏾 and that’s you are so freaking talented!! thank you for sharing your writing with us🥰🥰💕

Ahhhhhh! I love you so much! Your requests have given me such good ideas! I hope I fulfilled this one well. It turned into kind of brat tamer Yoongi who loves reader to pieces because I love everything about that trope. I really hope you love it bb!🩵🩵🩵

~

“Turn left up here!”

“I know where I’m going!”

“Obviously not! The parking lot will be full by the time we get there.”

Currently, you and your husband were on the way to your favorite store to spend some more of the gift cards you got at your wedding. You received so many and Yoongi made you agree that you’d only use them for important things.

New stuff for Holly counted as important, right? Of course it did.

A few months ago, you two moved to a new neighborhood which meant you didn’t really know where everything was.

As designated passenger princess, it was your responsibility to look hot, control the music and also manage the GPS to get you places but Yoongi wanted to trust his car’s GPS more than you. Ridiculous right?

He sighed. “I know where I’m going, okay? I don’t need your help.”

Your mouth dropped, a scandalized and dramatic gasp passing your glossed lips. How dare he?!

Crossing your arms over your chest, you slumped in the passenger seat. “You know what? Whatever, Yoongi.” You mumbled.

Silence enveloped the car, only the low sound of J.Cole’s melodic voice filling the space.

Yoongi glanced over at you, a smile threatening his lips at your pouty face. Ugh, you were such a spoiled little brat but he loved you so much. He actually took pleasure in riling you up and watching you get all huffy. Everytime he saw that princess personality, it awakened something in him—a need to both smother you with kisses and spank your ass until you were crying.

He reached over to place a large hand on your thigh. “Come on baby. Don’t be upset.”

You ignored him, fully turning your body towards the window. Uh oh, your full super bratty mode was activated.

“Are you really gonna ignore me?” He pondered.

No answer.

“Baby please. I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

He guessed he’d have to roll with this.

When Yoongi pulled into the parking lot of your favorite store, he tried to talk to you again but you were already out of the car.

Unfortunately, whenever you were upset with Yoongi, you got a sudden stroke of independence. He normally opened your door for you so he knew you were really upset when you did it yourself.

You didn’t talk to him the entire time through the store but you almost broke when you passed the pillows.

“Look baby. They have those pillows you were looking at.”

You picked one up before turning to Yoongi, opening your mouth to say, “yeah they…..” but you cut yourself off, remembering your vow of silence. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak but you held it. Tossing the pillows into the cart, you continued through the store, hands hurting from how hard you gripped the handles.

You couldn’t fight that skip in your heart. He remembered the pillows…..you told him about those weeks ago…..fuck.

You didn’t even notice Yoongi’s sly smirk as he walked behind you. He knew this silent treatment wouldn’t last long and he was honestly kind of amused. He knew you wanted to talk to him but your pride wouldn’t allow you to break first, not until you felt like it. He guessed he’d have to put up with your silent treatment a little longer.

Besides, with you walking ahead of him, he could stare at your perfect ass in those stretch pants all he wanted. His hand itched to grab it but he resisted. He didn’t want to make you more upset…..on purpose.

Yoongi ended up having to practically fight you with the bags, insisting he’ll put them back in the cart and push them to the car. You weren’t happy but you also didn’t argue, huffing and puffing your way back to the car.

Yoongi didn’t unlock the doors until he was finished putting the bags in the trunk which was getting you even more riled up. He knew you wanted to open your own door but doing it for you was just more amusing.

You squinted your eyes at him in frustration, throat burning with the desire to tell him off but you got in the car anyway, still completely silent.

The drive home was silent, as was the short journey up to your apartment. Holly greeted you both at the door, the wiggly dog jumping all over you. You didn’t even try to go through the bags, just heading straight for your bedroom where you could ignore Yoongi better. And of course, Holly followed you, not sparing Yoongi a passing glance.

Traitor, Yoongi thought.

He sighed but left you alone. He knew you weren’t that upset about what he said in the car. You were just being stubborn. He spoiled you too much. He could also be kind of passive(he’s working on it) as well so perhaps this was proving to be a little test for him.

After putting away the few grocery items and leaving the rest of your choices for you to sort through, he flopped down on the couch.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

He liked his peace and quiet as much as the next person but the noise you brought was different. He had grown used to hearing you singing under your breath or talking to yourself as you thought about dinner or the crash of all of your hair products falling because you had so many and they didn’t fit right in the hallway closet.

You had ingrained yourself into his life—you and your own perfect little storm of gentle chaos.

He missed you. Even though you were in the next room. He missed you.

Standing from the couch, he walked down the hall to the bedroom. He couldn’t hear anything on the other side.

His knuckles rapped gently against the wood before he opened he door. “Baby?”

He found you laid on your back on the bed, phone held over your face as you scrolled through social media. Holly was resting on his dog bed in the corner, little head lifting as Yoongi entered.

“Go.” He motioned to the door. Holly tilted his head in a way that solidified Yoongi’s suspicion that his dog was secretly a human. Human or not, Holly knew better than to stick around.

Yoongi closed the door before focusing his attention back on you.

He approached the bed, leaning a knee on it. You could feel the dip but made no move to acknowledge him.

“Baby please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. Of course I need you. I love when you tell me where to go but then you get distracted so we miss the turn. Remember we were late to our rehearsal dinner?”

Your lip twitched at the memory. Of course you do. The excitement of your wedding being the next day had you so caught up in your then fiancé that you couldn’t even focus on giving directions. And thanks to Yoongi being equally distracted by how stunning you were, he didn’t even think to make sure you stayed focused enough to give directions. He missed the exit twice before finally getting on track. Nevertheless, it was still a memorable evening with his family and close friends.

And the precursor to the rest of a wonderful life with you.

You still continued to ignore him. You could hear the sincerity in his apology but you wanted to make him sweat just a little bit longer.

But even Yoongi had a breaking point and you were crossing it.

“Baby.”

No answer.

Alright. Breaking point crossed.

~

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Ignoring me, “he scoffed with a shake of his head and landing a sharp smack to your ass. “You’re crazy.”

Your head was buried in the blankets, shoulders pressed against the bed and wrists held tightly in Yoongi’s grip.

His hips were slamming into your ass hard enough to hurt, his thick cock stretching your walls to their limit. He was thick enough to give you that slightly searing stretch and long enough to make you feel it all the way to your deepest parts.

“Mm, Yoongi!” You cry out as his strokes became longer, pulling himself all the way out to the tip remained before slamming back inside. He grits his teeth at your walls sucking him in as if they didn’t want him to go. Thank goodness for his stamina. After meeting you, he’s had to learn how restrain himself longer than ever. He never used to cum quick before meeting you. And yes, that was one of the many reasons he pursued you. “F-fuck….you feel so good.”

You arched your back more, lifting your ass so that he could reach even deeper.

“Don’t ignore me again. Do you understand?” He landed another slap on your bouncing ass, loving the recoil.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, face feeling hot from your breath that kept blowing back from how your face was pressed into the mattress.

Everything felt too tight, too hot, too sweaty, too good.

“Yes! I’m sorry!” You cried.

Releasing your wrists, he grabbed at your braids, twisting them around his wrist a few times. Waist length were definitely a smart investment.

He pulled you up until you were “balanced” on your hands because let’s face it, those things were numb as hell. His hold on your hair was really the only thing keeping you upright.

“Sorry for what? Apologize properly.”

He wanted you to form full sentences? That was like asking Jada to stop talking about Tupac. Impossible.

Another stroke knocked your speech centers loose, third orgasm since you started bubbling in your lower belly.

Yoongi could feel your walls clenching up, your moans growing louder at each thrust. Oh no you don’t.

He stopped his hips, still buried deep in your cunt. You whined as your orgasm ebbed away, wiggling your hips in an attempt to throw yourself back on his cock but a hand on your hip made you still.

“You’re not cumming until you apologize properly. Now, what aren’t you gonna do again?”

You swallowed, lip quivering and tears welling up. “I…I won’t ignore you again.”

He grinned. “Apology accepted.”

His hips set a punishing pace, your ass ricocheting off his hips. It had you moaning in ecstasy, nearly slipping from his grasp but he wrapped an arm under your breasts to keep you steady.

“Shit, I love this pussy. So. Fucking. Good.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust.

Your hand reached back to claw at his side, the slight sting making him groan and thus pushing him faster.

He yanked your hair until your back was pressed flush against his chest, his hips never slowing down. Almost instantly, you turned your head, seeking his lips as you always did when you were close. His heart fluttered, loving how affectionate you were.

You almost miss his lips from how absolutely feral he was going in your poor cunt. Fortunately, he tilts your head better with his grip on your hair, kissing your wet pout. The tenderness has your heart swooning despite all the chaos. He sucks at your tongue, leaving a light bite on your bottom lip as well.

“Gonna cum, my sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear, nipping at the skin.

You didn’t need to answer him, you’re growing moans enough to confirm. The hand that wasn’t scratching at his skin raises up to bury in his hair, yanking his strands similar to how he was doing you causing him to grunt in delight.

The arm around your body moved down to rub circles into your clit and you swore you saw the upper room. He buried his face in the side of your neck, inhaling your sweaty skin, lips leaving kisses and bites along the side of your throat.

His hips move even faster than before, desperate to carry you to your orgasm before he lost his shit. Pent up from that brief denial and riddled from your previous orgasms, you’re quick to crumble against him. Twisting in his hold, you cry out his name that’s like music to his ears.

“Yoongiiiiiiiiii! Cum in me, baby. Want you so bad….”

Your walls grip him tighter than a vice, his hips stuttering with careless abandon as he gives you exactly what you want. The sensitivity between your thighs burns in the best ways, little gasps coming from you another tiny orgasm washes over you.

“Ugh, fuck.” The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make both of you whine and gasp, his grip on you tightening and then loosening as his body shudders.

Your body falls forward on the mattress, muscles and bones weary and your eyes drooping as exhaustion weighs on them. You feel Yoongi flop down next to you, only the sound of his slightly hurried breaths filling the room.

“Not falling asleep on me, are ya?” He asks after a few seconds. He turns his head to find you are, in fact, beginning to doze off.

“No.” You fib, rolling your achy body over and holding up one arm. “Come kiss me.”

His smile is as sweet as him. He scoots over to bury himself in your warmth. Your arm wraps around him as his head lifts to give you your requested kisses.

“I love you.” You confess against his lips.

He hums. “Love you too. Even though you’re bad at giving directions.”

You roll your eyes but continued to peck at his lips. “Marry your GPS then.”

“I already have.” He hugs you closer. “And I wouldn’t give her up for anything.”