#but I can't find one and I want to read one and so one of you must have the same taste as me

[writersdrug]

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.  

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

[nightingale-prompts]

God Summoning 101- DCxDP Prompt

"Don't. Touch. Anything." Constantine said firmly looking at the alter.

Recently there had been activity of dark magic users had been reported in this cave system and as expected it was full of cultists. They had discovered the writings of an ancient god or demon and started worshipping it. They had intended to summon it when the Justice League got involved after people started going missing. Currently, the captives who are thankfully all alive are being evacuated from the underground.

Constantine was here to study the alter and find the true name of the creature that the cultists call the "Infinite God."

"Looks deceptively simple. You place an offering and the guy shows up to fulfill your wish." Constantine said reading the sigils "That is if they want to."

"Its can't be that simple. There has to be a catch." Batman said coming back inside after helping the captives into the hands of the officers.

"The only catch I can see is that the god cares a lot about what the offering is and the person giving it. They seem to not respond to just anyone. My concern are the epithets." Constantine said deep in thought.

"The what?" Superman asked glancing over Constantine's shoulder.

"The title. Every god has many. Its specifies what vertion of the god you are appealing to. Even Aphrodite had a warrior counterpart. You must specify whether you are asking Apollo for inspiration, light or health." Wonder Woman chided.

"Yes, same goes here. Getting the right version of this god seems to depend on the offering. But these stupid fucks had no idea what to put on the altar. That's why they tried kidnapping people." Constantine sighed looking around the room.

The cave was decked out in hundreds of different offerings to appeal to the god and but so far the deity hadn't responded. He listed the items and the versions they probably wanted to see.

Next to the altar was a vase of flowers and herbs. Each one was different with different meanings.

Amaranth- Immortality

Anemone- Sickness

Lily-Death

Cowslip- Mischief

Hydrangeas-Wealth

Narcissus-Beauty

Rose-Love

Red poppy- War

There were others but most of these flowers were stuff Constantine had learned from trivia or reading about them in passing.

He didn't get to study anymore because-

"Guys all the capti-" Flash ran in and the wind caused the vase to topple over and a single flower to land on the alter.

The room began to shake as a portal opened.

(You go from here. Chose whatever flower landed.)

[mythicalmaven]

Revealed Desires - Lando Norris

(This is a sequel to Secret Desires, but could also be read separately)

Here is part two of the requested oneshot! I loved writing it so much, that I needed to write a part two! It accidentally turned out WAY longer than I intended, but I love how it turned out! Hope y'all like it! Please let me know if you did! :)

Masterlist This is part two of this one (reading the previous part is advised for more context lol, but you technically could read it separately) ↳pairing: Lando Norris x f!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 8,9K ↳Summary: In which the story continues after the reader (Max Verstappen's twin sister) had a rather interesting text exchange with & FaceTime call with her best friend Lando Norris after he had drunkenly texted her about his sexual fantasies about her. ↳content warnings: reader is Max Verstappen's twin sister, Lando is her best friend, but also more, friends to lovers, first kiss, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), explicit sexual content, handjob, blowjob, oral sex f!receiving, orgasm denial, p in v, making love, praise kink,

It had been a few hours since that intimate phone call with you, and yet the giddy sensation still coursed through Lando's veins like wildfire. He obviously still felt incredibly embarrassed about drunk texting you the way he did, but it lead to something great. Something he enjoyed so much, he can't put it into words. The knowledge that you felt the same way about him had turned the usually composed British driver into a lovesick puppy, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. He'd been in love with you for quite some time, but now that his feelings were out in the open, everything felt more intense, more real.

Since that call, Lando had managed to shower, get dressed, and gather his things to hang out with a few of the guys at Charles’ place. But the whole time, he’d been distracted, replaying every moment of your conversation, every breathy word exchanged, over and over in his mind.

By the time he arrived at Charles' house and plopped down onto the couch, the weight of it all—how much his life had changed in a few short hours—settled in. But just as he began to sink into his thoughts, he felt a pair of familiar eyes boring into him.

Max was staring at him, that infuriatingly smug grin stretching across his face. "Good morning, Mr. Casanova," Max teased, the humor in his voice impossible to miss as he watched Lando try to hide within the collar of his hoodie.

"Oh god, please, shut up," Lando groaned, pulling the hood further over his face in a futile attempt to disappear. "I don't even remember half of what I said to you last night."

Charles, who had perched himself on the armrest of the couch, took a casual sip of his coffee. The amusement radiating off him was palpable as he clapped a hand on Lando’s shoulder. "Unfortunately for you, Max remembers all of it."

Max leaned back into the cushions, making a dramatic gagging sound as if to punctuate his point. "I wish I could forget some of the things you said, mate," he chuckled. "But I have to admit, some of it was pretty funny. Adorable, even."

Lando's face flushed a deep crimson, his stomach twisting with embarrassment. "Do I even want to know what I said?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible as he avoided the eyes of both his friends.

Charles set his coffee cup down on the table, his expression turning thoughtful. "Well," he began, running a hand through his hair, "you started out pretty innocent. You were going on about how head over heels you are for her—though I can’t recall the exact words, it was clear enough."

Lando groaned again, his face burning with shame as he sank further into the couch. "God, Max, I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I never wanted you to find out like this."

Max raised his eyebrows, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "You really think I didn’t already know you were in love with my sister?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle. "You’ve been obvious for a while now, even when you weren’t drunk off your ass."

Lando’s eyes widened in shock, his heart skipping a beat. "A-Are… you s-serious?" he stammered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Charles rolled his eyes, smirking. "Dude, you stare at her more than you do your own race car," he teased. "And let’s not forget that your entire way of talking to each other is just… well, flirting."

Lando felt his heart rate pick up, a mix of relief and mortification washing over him. "Oh," he muttered, his voice small.

"But if that was the innocent part," Lando began, dreading the answer, "what in god's name were the other things I said?"

Max snorted, leaning forward with a grin. "Well, once you were really wasted, you didn’t even seem to notice I was there anymore," he began, the disgust creeping back into his voice. "You were pretty much ranting to Charles about how hot she is and how you’d kill to see her naked."

Charles burst out laughing, almost spilling his coffee in the process. "Hey! Don’t leave out the best part," he chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You also said that if you had the chance, you’d fuck her on every single piece of furniture in your house."

Max made a dramatic gagging noise again, waving his hands in front of his face. "Okay, enough, ew," he protested, though the laughter in his voice was unmistakable. "We’re talking about my twin sister here, remember?"

Lando buried his face in his hands, sinking so far into the couch he thought he might disappear entirely. "Fucking hell," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. "I really am a gigantic idiot."

Max’s laughter subsided into a low chuckle as he leaned back into the cushions. "Well, spilling the beans on your feelings was one thing, but I’m curious how you’re going to talk your way out of this with her," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. "You kept going on about needing to text her about something 'very private.'"

Lando groaned again, this time so deeply it resonated in his chest. "Please don’t remind me," he mumbled, knowing all too well what Max was referring to.

Max grinned, clearly enjoying every second of Lando’s discomfort. "So, after I dragged your sorry ass home, I decided to give her a little heads up," he continued, his voice dripping with teasing humor. "But she told me it was a little too late because, apparently, you had already sent her quite the intense text."

Charles, who had been taking another sip of his coffee, choked on it immediately, coughing violently as he tried to suppress his laughter. "Mon dieu," he managed to gasp out between coughs, his face turning red from the effort. "What the heck did you even text her? Did you send her a nude or something?"

Before Lando could even process the question, Max threw his hands up in the air. "Don’t answer that while I’m in the room! I don’t even want to know!" he exclaimed, half laughing, half horrified. "We’re talking about my twin sister here! I need more coffee."

With that, Max got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Lando and Charles alone in the living room.

Charles eyed Lando with a raised eyebrow, the teasing smirk never leaving his face. "Now, do tell," he urged, clearly eager to hear the juicy details.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "God, I don’t even want to think about it," he muttered, his voice filled with both regret and reluctant amusement. "I cringe at myself every time I read it back."

Charles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Did you at least talk to her about it?" he asked, his tone becoming more serious. "I mean, considering you’re not sulking in a corner, I assume she doesn’t hate you now, right?"

Lando felt the heat rise to his cheeks again, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ehm… yeah, we talked about it," he admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to downplay the situation.

Charles’ eyes widened in surprise, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, you guys did not…" he started, his voice dripping with playful accusation.

Lando hesitated, biting his lip. "Maybe," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the back with a hearty smack. "So, let me get this straight," he began, still chuckling. "You got wasted, accidentally sexted your best friend, and she… liked it? And then you pretty much continued the conversation? Do you even remember a thing of it, or is your text history your only proof?"

Lando’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he avoided Charles’ gaze, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Ehm… it might’ve happened this morning through text… then later through FaceTime," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Charles let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Nice job, mate," he said, his tone filled with both amusement and genuine admiration. "Better not tell Max that you had literal phone sex with his twin sister."

Before Lando could respond, they heard Max’s voice echoing from the kitchen. "God, I really did not want to hear that," Max groaned, his tone laced with exasperation.

Charles laughed again, turning his attention back to Lando. "Well, now that you’ve crossed that line, what’s the next step?" he asked, his tone more serious now. "Are you going to talk to her about where this is going?"

Lando let out a long sigh, leaning back into the couch as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I mean… yeah, I guess I have to," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I can’t just pretend like nothing happened."

Charles nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. "You’re right," he agreed. "But, honestly, it sounds like you two are already on the same page. You just need to have an actual conversation about it."

Lando nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling in his chest. "Yeah… I know, we talked about if for a little.." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I admitted my feelings to her. We did kind of agree to starting something real once she's back in Monaco"

Charles gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his smile softening. "That's good"

"Yeah, I actually have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow" he told Charles, a hint of something else in his voice "I would lie if I said I wasn't nervous about it. Just scared that she might come to the conclusion that she regrets it, once she sees me in real life again"

*The following day*

Lando sat in his car at the airport, his nerves doubling with each passing second. His fingers fumbled restlessly in his lap as he tried—and failed—to calm himself down. He had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind racing with thoughts of how he should greet you when you finally arrived. Despite offering numerous times to meet you at the gate, to carry your suitcases like a gentleman, you had refused each one with a teasing smile, insisting that you were "a big girl" and could manage on your own. Now, he wondered if he had been too pushy, if maybe he should have backed off and given you more space.

As he waited, Lando’s mind continued to wage a war against itself. Should he just hug you like he always did, keeping things light and familiar? Or should he throw caution to the wind and kiss you, putting everything on the line? The thought of kissing you, of finally feeling your lips on his after all these years of longing, made his heart race. But what if you didn’t want that? What if you pulled away, leaving him to wallow in his embarrassment?

His internal debate was abruptly cut short by the sound of a knock on his window. Lando looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he met your eyes. There you were, standing just outside his car, a soft smile on your lips. That smile—the one that always made his chest tighten—sent a wave of warmth through him. He quickly opened the door, jumping out to help you with your luggage.

"Hi," you murmured softly, echoing the way you had greeted him during your FaceTime call. The familiarity of your voice, that gentle tone, sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando smiled back, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against yours as you both reached for the handle of your suitcase. The slight contact sent a jolt of electricity up his arm, and he had to resist the urge to pull you into his arms right then and there. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing, but the proximity, the way you looked at him, made it impossible to think straight.

"Fuck this," he muttered under his breath, the words slipping out before he could stop them. In a swift movement, he reached up, sliding his fingers around the back of your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your jaw. The world seemed to slow down as he tilted your face up toward his, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally closed the distance between you.

When his lips met yours, it was like every pent-up emotion, every moment of longing, exploded into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a confession, a release, an answer to all the questions that had been swirling in his mind. His fingers tightened in your hair, pulling you closer as he let himself get lost in the sensation of finally, finally, kissing the one girl he had been in love with for what felt like forever.

Your response was immediate and overwhelming. You released the suitcase from your grip, one of your hands moved up to tangle in his curls, pulling him closer, while the other slid down to cover his hand, guiding it to your waist. The heat of your body against his was intoxicating, and Lando felt like he was drowning in you, in the softness of your lips, in the way you seemed to melt into him.

As your kiss deepened, Lando could feel your breath hitch, your body pressing even closer to his as if you couldn’t get enough. He took the invitation, gently parting your lips with his, and when your tongues met, it was like a spark igniting a wildfire. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the side of the car. The cool metal of the car against your back contrasted with the heat between you, making you gasp softly into the kiss.

Every touch, every brush of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent shivers down Lando’s spine. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, could hear the soft, breathy sounds you made as the kiss grew more urgent. His hands roamed your back, sliding up to cup your face, then back down to your waist, as if trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, his shoulders, as you gave in to the overwhelming pull of desire that had been building between you for so long. The way Lando kissed you—desperate yet tender, with a mix of hunger and reverence—made your heart swell with emotion. It was as if he was pouring all his love, all his need, into that kiss, and you couldn’t help but respond in kind.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts. Lando’s fingers played with a stray strand of your hair, his touch feather-light as he whispered, "Sorry if that was too straightforward. I just… I couldn’t help myself."

You giggled softly, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. "Lan, we both know we crossed the 'too straightforward' line already when you sent me that one text," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Lando’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping to the ground as he muttered, "Shut up."

But you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. Smiling, you tilted his chin up with your finger, forcing him to meet your gaze before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Hey, I never said I was complaining" you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with affection.

Lando felt a surge of relief wash over him, his lips curling into a smile against yours. All the tension, all the nerves, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through his entire being. As you pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours, finding only the same affection and desire that he felt reflected back at him.

"Now, let's get this stuff in the car and head back to my place. Because I think we both waited long enough now, don't you think?" you teased him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

As Lando and you finally settled into the car, the engine's quiet hum filled the space, a stark contrast to the roaring thoughts and desires that swirled between you. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, every glance more charged. The drive back to your place had never felt so excruciatingly long, and the unspoken understanding between you made the tension all the more palpable.

You both tried to keep the conversation light, casual even, but it was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of desire that crackled between you like static electricity. Lando gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, his knuckles turning white as he navigated through the city streets. He stole glances at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, his mind racing with thoughts of what would happen once you finally reached your apartment.

“So, did you miss me?” you teased, your voice playful yet laced with something deeper.

Lando chuckled, his voice strained as he responded. “Miss you?” He shot you a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, something like that.”

Your hand slowly inched its way over to his thigh, resting lightly at first, but enough to make him shift in his seat. You could feel the muscle tense beneath your fingers, his reaction immediate and telling. You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched, or the subtle clenching of his jaw as he tried to maintain his focus on the road.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and warning, though you could hear the underlying strain, the barely restrained desire.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, your fingers beginning to trace small, teasing circles on his thigh, gradually moving closer to where you knew he was most sensitive. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” Lando’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried—and failed—to ignore the effect your touch was having on him. “About what, exactly?”

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, “About how long this drive is taking. Don’t you think it’s… too long?”

Lando let out a low, frustrated groan, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You giggled softly, the sound filled with a mix of mischief and satisfaction. Your hand moved higher, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his pants, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. He glanced over at you, his eyes darkening with lust, and you could see the tension in his expression, the way he was barely holding himself together.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, your voice dripping with mock innocence, though the wicked glint in your eyes betrayed your intentions.

“Fuck…” Lando cursed under his breath, his hips involuntarily jerking forward at the contact. “You’re going to make me crash this car if you keep that up.”

But despite his words, he didn’t make any move to stop you. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat, almost as if inviting you to continue. The knowledge that you had this kind of power over him, that you could unravel him with just a few touches, sent a thrill through you, your own arousal growing with each passing second.

As your hand pressed more firmly against him, Lando couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped his lips, low and guttural, filled with the kind of raw need that made your stomach tighten with anticipation. The sound of it, the way his body responded so helplessly to your touch, only fueled your desire, your own breath becoming shallow as you leaned in closer.

“I think you like this,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke, your hand slowly, deliberately, palming him through his jeans. You could feel him hardening beneath your touch, and the thought of what was to come made your own body ache with need.

“Fuck, you’re right,” Lando admitted, his voice rough and strained. He let out another soft moan, his hips shifting again, seeking more of your touch despite his earlier protests. “But you’re also going to regret teasing me like this.”

“Is that a threat?” you teased, your hand now fully exploring the outline of his erection, your fingers pressing just hard enough to drive him crazy, but not enough to satisfy.

“Consider it a promise,” Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, every second feeling like an eternity as you continued to push him closer to the edge.

The rest of the drive was a torturous mix of heated touches and ragged breaths, the air thick with anticipation. Every kilometer that separated you from your apartment seemed to stretch on forever, amplifying the tension that crackled between you. Lando’s eyes flicked from the road to your hand on his bulge, watching as your fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration. His breathing was uneven, the struggle to keep his focus on driving becoming increasingly difficult with each passing second.

You noticed how his grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white, the strain evident in every line of his body. His jaw was clenched, his gaze forward, but you could see the way his eyes darkened, how his breath hitched every time your fingers palmed over the bulge straining against his jeans.

“You’re awfully quiet, Lando,” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers tracing the outline of his erection with maddening slowness. “Cat got your tongue?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his voice strained as he responded. “Trying to focus on not crashing the car, love,” he muttered, his words laced with a mixture of frustration and arousal. His eyes briefly met yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. “But you’re making that damn near impossible.”

You smiled, pleased with the effect you were having on him. Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “What would you do to me if we weren’t in this car right now?”

Lando’s breath hitched again, a soft groan escaping his lips as your words sent a surge of heat through him. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with images of all the things he wanted to do to you. “You really want to know?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone that made your pulse quicken.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your hand pressing more firmly against his erection, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me, Lando. What would you do if you had me all to yourself right now?”

Lando’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his grip on the wheel tightening as he tried to maintain control. “I’d start by pinning you against the wall,” he began, his voice thick with desire. “I’d kiss you until you were breathless, until you couldn’t think straight. And then I’d strip you down, piece by piece, until there was nothing between us.”

His words sent a thrill through you, your body reacting instantly to the vivid images he painted with his voice. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the ache of wanting him becoming almost unbearable. “And then?” you prompted, your voice breathy, urging him to continue.

Lando swallowed hard, his hips shifting slightly under your touch. “Then I’d lay you down, spread you out for me,” he continued, his voice growing darker, more intense. “I’d take my time, kiss every inch of you, taste you until you’re begging for more.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips at his words, the need inside you flaring hotter with every second. “Fuck, Lando,” you breathed, your hand moving up to cup him more fully, feeling the hardness beneath your fingers. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You think you’re the only one?” Lando shot back, his voice rough with arousal. He let out another low groan as you began to palm him through his jeans, his hips lifting slightly into your touch, seeking more. “Keep that up and we won’t even make it to your apartment.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the way you were affecting him. “Maybe that’s the idea,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck, your breath warm against his skin. “Maybe I want to see how much you can take.”

Lando let out a soft, desperate moan, his control slipping further with every touch, every word. “You’re fucking evil, you know that?” he groaned, his head falling back against the headrest as he gave in to the pleasure, his body reacting instinctively to your teasing. “But god, I love it.”

The tension in the car was nearly unbearable now, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the promise of what was to come. Every brush of your fingers, every shift of your body sent waves of desire crashing over both of you, making it almost impossible to think clearly.

As you continued to tease him, your own body was alight with need, every fiber of your being aching for him. The sight of Lando struggling to keep his composure, the way he was completely at your mercy, only fueled your desire, your own breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your touch.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lando pulled up to your apartment building, the car coming to a sudden, jerky stop as he practically slammed on the brakes. He turned to you, his eyes dark and filled with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Get out of the car,” he commanded, his voice rough and strained, leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The moment you stepped out, Lando was there, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed you back against the car, his lips crashing onto yours with a desperate, almost frantic intensity. The kiss was hot, urgent, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been building between you for so long. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your hips as he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the full extent of his arousal.

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Lando murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you moan softly.

“Then show me,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want to feel everything.”

Lando groaned at your words, his control slipping further as he kissed his way down your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt, exploring the soft skin of your back. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Without another word, he grabbed your hand, practically dragging you toward the entrance of the building. The anticipation was palpable, every step closer to your apartment only adding to the tension between you.

The elevator ride up was a blur of heated touches and frantic kisses, Lando’s lips never leaving your skin as he pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming your body with a mix of urgency and reverence. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your neck, his voice rough and filled with raw need.

“Me too,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire as your hands explored the planes of his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Lando.”

His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring the taste of you. The kiss was deep, consuming, and you could feel every ounce of his passion, his longing, in the way his tongue danced with yours, the way his hands gripped you as if he was afraid you might slip away.

When the elevator finally dinged at your floor, Lando wasted no time, pulling you out and down the hall toward your apartment. His impatience was evident in the way he fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and lust coursing through his veins.

“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and arousal as he finally managed to unlock the door. The moment it swung open, he had you inside, slamming it shut behind him as he pressed you up against it, his lips crashing onto yours once again.

The kiss was even more intense this time, fueled by the knowledge that there were no more interruptions, no more delays. This was it. You were finally alone, and nothing was going to stop what came next.

His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, up your back, down to your thighs, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch you first. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sent jolts of pleasure through you, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the anticipation becoming almost unbearable.

Lando’s lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice a low, seductive growl that made your heart race.

“I’m counting on it,” you replied breathlessly, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you pulled him even closer, your body aching with need.

And with that, any remaining restraint between you shattered, the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiling over as Lando’s hands and lips claimed every inch of you, leaving you both lost in the heat of the moment, eager to make up for all the time you had spent longing for each other.

When his lips left yours again, you barely had time to catch your breath before they were on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. His hands continued their slow exploration, moving higher until they reached the curve of your breasts, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the contact, your back arching slightly as you pressed into his touch. Lando’s breath was hot against your skin as he nipped at your collarbone, his hands moving to unhook your bra with practiced ease. The garment fell away, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

“You have no idea how much I want this,” Lando murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mix of reverence and desire. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples as he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

“Then stop teasing,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want you, Lando.”

Lando groaned softly at your words, his resolve crumbling as his hands began to roam lower, sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttoned them slowly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he tugged the fabric down your hips, leaving you in just your panties.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of you standing before him, half-naked and completely vulnerable. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as his hands traced the curve of your hips, his thumbs brushing against the delicate lace of your panties.

Without another word, Lando’s hands moved to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin, causing shivers to run down your spine. He stood in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs with agonizing slowness.

The cool air against your exposed skin only heightened your sensitivity, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Lando’s hands moved back up your thighs, his touch firm yet gentle as he spread your legs wider. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to an exposed bit of skin, just behind your ear, before his fingers began their slow, torturous journey closer to your core.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as his fingers hovered just above where you wanted them most. He teased you, his fingertips brushing lightly against your sensitive skin, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips. The tension in your body grew unbearable as Lando finally let his fingers slide through your wetness, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

He began to move his fingers with expert precision, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, each moan, each gasp fueling his desire. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles as his fingers delved deeper, the sensation building with every stroke. You could feel the pressure mounting, your body arching into his touch as you teetered on the edge of release.

But just as you were about to fall over the precipice, Lando’s movements slowed, his fingers pulling back, leaving you hanging in that unbearable space between pleasure and release. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips as you looked up at him, your body aching with the need for more.

But Lando only smirked up at you, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. “That’s for teasing me in the car,” he teased, his voice low and filled with satisfaction as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. You pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before your hands moved to the waistband of his jeans.

But before you could undo the button, Lando’s hands were on you again, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the kitchen counter. He placed you on the cool surface, his hands sliding up your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs.

His lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with lust, his breathing heavy as he knelt down between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you open before him.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him, his gaze locked on yours as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot. The first stroke of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your hands flying to his hair as you arched into him, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Lando’s tongue moved with precision, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every second. You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, your body trembling with the need for release as he continued to pleasure you with slow, deliberate movements.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, just when you were about to tip over the edge, once again, Lando pulled back, leaving you gasping for breath, your body aching with the need for more.

“Lando!” you cried out, your voice filled with frustration as you looked down at him, your chest heaving with the effort to catch your breath.

Lando only chuckled, a smug smile playing on his lips as he slowly rose to his feet, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I told you I would make you regret teasing me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with satisfaction as he nipped at your lower lip.

“You're lucky you're hot” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and determination as you reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them with your fingers. You pushed the fabric down his hips, letting it fall to the floor as you slid off the counter, your hands moving to his hips, guiding him against the kitchen counter, sinking to your knees.

Lando’s breath hitched as you knelt before him, your fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers as you looked up at him, a wicked glint in your eyes. “Is this what you want?” you asked, your voice low and sultry as your fingers brushed against his erection, the contact sending a shiver of pleasure through him.

“Please,” Lando groaned, his hands clutching at the counter behind him as he watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and lust. “Don’t tease me.”

But you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted to make him feel the same frustration, the same desperation that he had made you feel. Slowly, deliberately, you began to kiss your way up his thigh, your lips brushing against his skin in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You look so good, Lan. You make me so wet.” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with a mix of challenge and desire as your fingers teased him, brushing against his erection but never quite touching him where he needed it most.

Lando’s hips jerked forward, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutched at the counter, his control slipping further with every touch, every kiss. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and strained. “You’re killing me.”

You smiled up at him, your hands finally sliding up to his boxers, pulling them down to free his aching length. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sent a thrill of anticipation through you, your own arousal heightening as you took him in your hand, feeling the warmth and hardness of him against your palm.

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to stroke him slowly, your movements deliberate and teasing. Your thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, gathering the bead of moisture there before sliding back down his length. His hips bucked slightly into your hand, a low groan escaping his lips as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark with lust.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with need. His hands gripped the counter behind him, knuckles white as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. But you could see the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to every touch, every twist of your wrist.

You increased the pace slightly, your strokes becoming firmer, more purposeful as you worked him with your hand. Lando’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to keep his composure. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice sultry, dripping with seduction as you watched him with hooded eyes.

“God, yes,” Lando groaned, his head falling back as another moan slipped from his lips. “So fucking good.”

You smirked, your confidence growing with every sound of pleasure that escaped him. You changed your technique, your grip tightening slightly as you twisted your wrist at the top, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive underside of his tip in a way that made his hips jerk forward, his breath catching in his throat.

“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about?” you asked, your voice low and teasing as you leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. “Thinking about me, touching you like this?”

Lando let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to find the words. “Yes,” he managed to choke out, his voice strained with the effort to hold back. “Every night. Fuck, you have no idea.”

You smiled, satisfied with his response as you continued to stroke him, your movements becoming a little faster, a little more intense. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, his body trembling with the need for release. “Do you want more, Lando?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the base of his length as you spoke, sending a shiver through him. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

Lando’s eyes flew open, the raw need in them making your own arousal spike. “Please,” he groaned, his voice a desperate plea. “I need it. I need you.”

His words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and without breaking eye contact, you slowly lowered your head, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The sensation of his hard length filling you, the taste of him on your tongue, was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan as you began to move, your mouth working him with the same deliberate, teasing pace you had used with your hand.

Lando’s reaction was immediate, his hands flying to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to maintain control. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

Encouraged by his praise, you began to move faster, your tongue swirling around him, flicking against the sensitive underside as you bobbed your head, taking him in as deep as you could. You could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his muscles tightened and quivered under your touch, his body responding to every flick of your tongue, every suction of your lips.

You placed your hands on the back of his thighs, your fingers digging into his flesh as you pulled him closer, encouraging him to let go, to give in to the pleasure. “Is this what you wanted?” you asked, pulling back just enough to speak, your voice breathy and filled with desire. “Is this what you’ve been dreaming about?”

“Yes,” Lando groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

His words only spurred you on, and you resumed your pace, your mouth working him with more intensity, more urgency as you brought him closer to the edge. His breathing grew ragged, his moans becoming more frequent, more desperate as he hovered on the brink of release.

But just as you felt him start to tense, his body trembling with the need for release, you pulled back, letting him slip from your mouth with a teasing smile. Lando let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back as his hands tightened in your hair, the sensation of being so close yet denied driving him to the brink of madness.

“Fuck,” Lando breathed out, his voice laced with desperation. His eyes were half-lidded, darkened with lust as he looked down at you, still kneeling before him, that wicked glint in your eyes. “Why did you stop?”

“Two can play that game,” you whispered, your voice filled with playful challenge as you looked up at him, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his thigh. “How does it feel, Lando? To be so close and yet so far?”

Lando’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and raw need. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice rough with desperation, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that he was enjoying this, even if it was driving him crazy.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, heated kiss. “Fucking hell, you have no idea what you do to me” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against the counter.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the heat in his voice, the raw intensity of his words sending a surge of desire straight to your core. Lando’s lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second. His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you slightly so he could press you even closer against the counter, his body flush against yours. You responded eagerly, your hands threading through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, your tongue teasingly flicking against his.

You could feel the tension building between you, the need to be even closer, but you couldn’t resist playing with him just a little more. You nipped at his lower lip, pulling back slightly to murmur against his mouth, “You’re holding back, Lando. What’s wrong? Afraid you can’t handle a little teasing?”

Your words drew a low, frustrated growl from him, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you, the playful spark in your gaze only spurring him on. “Oh, I can handle it,” he replied, his voice a rough whisper, full of promise. And with that, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands grabbing you by the waist as he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Your laughter echoed through the kitchen as Lando carried you towards the bedroom, his grip on you firm, yet gentle, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. The intensity in his eyes sent a thrill through you, your heart racing as you felt the cool air on your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

He pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, and before you knew it, you were on the bed, Lando hovering above you, his hands framing your face as he stared down at you with a mixture of love and raw need. The look in his eyes made your breath catch, the reality of the moment crashing over you. This was real. This was happening.

Lando’s lips found yours again, the kiss slower this time, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides, over your hips, before coming to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them.

But just as Lando was about to move lower, his lips brushing against the curve of your breast, he paused, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, but carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart swell.

“I’m sure, Lando,” you whispered, your voice filled with certainty and affection. “I want this. I want you.”

Lando’s eyes searched yours for a moment longer, as if making absolutely certain, before he spoke again, his tone gentle but serious. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured into anything. This… this means a lot to me. It’s more than just sex for me.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and concern in his voice making you fall even more for him. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin as you smiled up at him. “I don’t feel pressured at all. I want this just as much as you do, Lando. It means a lot to me too.”

Relief washed over his features, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t quite put into words. “Thank you,” he whispered against your lips, his hands gently caressing your sides as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing warmly against yours.

With that final confirmation, the last of his restraint melted away. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as Lando’s hands roamed your body with a newfound purpose, exploring every inch of you with reverence and need. His lips moved down your neck, to your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver with anticipation.

You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, the evidence of his desire only fueling your own. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way his body responded to your touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable now, the need for him becoming overwhelming as his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you moan softly.

“Please, Lando,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation as you arched into him, your body aching with the need for release. “I need you.”

Lando let out a low groan at your words, his hands sliding down to your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he whispered, “I want to make this perfect for you.”

“It already is,” you whispered back, your voice filled with affection as you cupped his face, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just make love to me, Lando.”

With a soft, almost reverent sigh, Lando pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly, gently, entered you. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and emotion that made you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he filled you completely.

Lando let out a shaky breath, his body trembling slightly as he stilled for a moment, letting you both adjust to the new, intimate connection. The feeling of him inside you, of being so close, so connected, was almost too much to bear, the intensity of it sending waves of pleasure and emotion crashing over you.

He began to move slowly, his thrusts gentle and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he made love to you with a tenderness that took your breath away. Every movement, every touch was filled with love, with a depth of emotion that made your heart swell with affection for him.

You could feel the tension building again, the pleasure mounting with every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours. Lando’s hands roamed your body, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck, your collarbone, as he whispered sweet, breathless praises in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with love and desire. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Lando,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion as you clutched at him, your body moving in sync with his. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, the raw truth of your feelings finally breaking free. Lando’s eyes widened in surprise, his movements slowing for a moment as he stared down at you, his breath catching in his throat.

“I love you too,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and affection as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips. The words hung in the air between you, a promise, a declaration that made your heart swell with happiness.

With those words still echoing in the air, Lando’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter in your belly as you held onto him, your body trembling with the need for release.

Lando’s breath was hot against your ear, his voice rough and filled with desperation as he whispered, “Come for me, love. I want to feel you.”

His words, the way he moved inside you with such passion and tenderness, was enough to send you over the edge. Your body tensed, your back arching off the bed as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your breathless moans filling the room as you came undone in his arms.

The sensation of you tightening around him, the way you cried out his name in pure ecstasy, was enough to push Lando over the edge with you. With a few more deep, urgent thrusts, he followed you into bliss, his body trembling as he found his release, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing of two people who had just found something they had both been longing for. Lando collapsed on top of you, his weight comforting as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You held him close, your fingers running through his hair as you both came down from the high, your bodies still entwined, the connection between you stronger than ever.

“I love you,” Lando whispered again, his voice soft and filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I love you too,” you murmured back, your heart swelling with happiness as you held him close, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the warmth of his body against yours, the contentment that filled you both as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of the most intense, passionate, and loving moment you had ever shared.

Masterlist | Promptlist (requests are still open)

[tbaluver]

Hi...I love your writing so much, Big Fan >_< ♡

Can I ask about what it's like to shower with LNDS men?

Thank U

Showering With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content. short NSFW is right below the SFW ! (p.s sorry if this format was confusing ! just wanted to add both in this one) a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you for supporting my work i always appreciate it so much ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading this and my other future works ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i dunno but i might make a shower smut after writing these LMAO anyways gonna post another headcanon in a few hours after this (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier: (SFW)

More of a shower person than a bath person because there were too many times to count on how many times you saw him asleep in the bathtub.

Almost falls asleep when you massage his scalp with soap as he wraps his hands on your waist to keep balanced. It just felt too relaxing and he couldn't help but flutter his eyes closed

Has a fair share of wash products but he ends up using yours because yours smell better and it smells like you.

He loves it when you clean him, it feels such a safe and intimate space between the two of you. You hum softly as you work gently against his scalp that you lathered. He felt so safe, so warm, in the space that you two created that he eases into the relaxation.

Loves the feeling of you every time he grazes his hands over your body. Obviously he’ll make sure to wash you as well. He’ll make sure that the soap doesn’t get in your eyes. Sometimes the two of you stand and hug, enjoying each other presence, while the water pours over the two of you-until the water gets cold.

Xavier: (NSFW)

He can't help it. You'll feel his hard-on when he's pressed up behind you. Ruts into you very slowly against your ass as he wraps around you while his hand is planted on your thigh to control the lazy pace. His moans would invade your ear as shaky breaths escape your lips.

Zayne: (SFW)

Another intimate time for the two of you.

When he’s coming home from work, he’s basically putty in your hands. You didn’t need to ask twice. He would barely have any energy to eat dinner or shower. He’s so touchy when you’re helping him wash him off while he lowly murmurs in your ear ‘thank you’s’

The type of man that would admire your body as he washes you with the body soap and shampoo. He has seen your body many times and has memorized every detail of you. But each time he sees you, it's like discovering you anew again. His eyes trail down as his hands lower, lower, and lower down your body as he washes you with the body soap.

Helps you wash your back and any hard places for you to reach and you do the same for him as well.

When you offer to help him wash his hair, he leans down, and you lather it with extra soap, laughing at how cute he looks. He doesn’t mind this at all, he finds your reaction to be adorable whenever you do this.

When he washes your hair, he is always so gentle. “Close your eyes for me, my love.” He’ll say softly as his hands carefully knead shampoo into your hair before washing it all away. He'll make sure none of it goes into your eyes.

Once you both finish washing, he turns off the shower and steps out to grab your towel. You both dry each other off, making sure every drop of moisture is gone and helps you put on your robe.

Zayne: (NSFW)

One finger would be rolling on your nipple while the other hand works through your folds. His mouth would be sucking and swirling on your breasts.

He'll use the shower bench to sit and to meet your height to suck on your breasts but will also use that opportunity to let you ride him.

Rafayel: (SFW)

Takes a long shower and I’m talking hours. He most definitely hogs the water and leaves you cold behind him. Has way too much showering products than you but he’ll definitely share them with you

Jokes aside, he would not stop caressing every inch and curve of your body when he sees you glistening with the water.

Loves to wrap his arms around you from behind. He’ll trail kisses on your shoulder to your ear while whispering how cute you look  before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Lets you try all his expensive washes and you two would experiment every shower on which is the best

Would tell you to wash him and he loves it when you wash his hair. The way your fingers scrub the shampoo and your nails massaging his scalp, felt like heaven to him. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder as you wash the suds out and he’ll have a content smile resting on his lips.

When the two of you are finished drying up, he'll make sure to pick the best moisturizer for the two of you before you both get dressed

Rafayel: (NSFW)

Round two. After you both finish having sex in bed or wherever, you’ll find him against you again all naked and wet. His arousal is more heightened in the water. He just needs his pretty girl again after the mess you made on his cock

Loves how the water slides and glistens down between your bodies

Sylus: (SFW)

The type to say, “Why waste water when we can just shower together.” And I fear he does have a point so that’s why you both shower together often.

He likes to stand behind you most of the time because this allows him to place his chin on your head as the water falls onto the both of you.

He is most definitely going to get handsy using the soapy water. He’ll moves his hand further down to rub your butt and give it a light squeeze

He loves to put the lather of soap on your nose or place a bunch on your hair just to see your reaction. He also finds it amusing to see you try to do the same with him but you can’t because of your height difference. It usually ends up in a bubble war between the two of you.

He helps dries you off first before you help him dry him off. He'll lower his head so you can ruffle the towel on his head.

When it was his turn to wash his hair, he would lean down, a smile curling on his lips as he gazed at your face while you carefully shampoo into his hair

“Sy close your eyes”

“Why would I do that when I want to stare at my pretty girl?”

Sylus: (NSFW)

You turn him on easily so showering with him feels like he has a permanent hard on. Once you step in the shower, he’ll let you get warm and wet before he starts  rubbing up on you. He just loves the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, especially since you both are wet.

Pins you against the glass door of the shower and takes you from behind. His right hand finds your breast, squeezing them and pinching your hardening buds in the warm water while his left hand is on the plush of your ass. Sometimes he'll press you up against the wall and have your legs wrapped around him so you don't slip, just let him do all the work as he ruts into you

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐩 (𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩) | 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐧

summary: a random man breaks your phone and runs away before you can even yell at him. he becomes your archenemy when you learn that you lost hundreds of photos of your children. and by “your children”, you mean pups—seal pups.

pairing: alex albon x seal specialist! fem!black!reader

from, serene: do not post any gifts you get on social media. that's how people get robbed /srs. i'm trying to make my reader's have different personalities but i think i failed with this one. i'll try on the next smau. happy reading, loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | seal you later toc | next ↻

messages • yn -> coral (yn’s coworker)

twitter • alex_albon

twitter • sealteamsix

messages • max please unmute us gc -> alex

twitter dm’s • alex -> yn

messages • yn -> coral

twitter dm’s cont. • alex -> yn

messages cont. • yn -> coral • alex -> max please unmute us gc

igstory • seallygirlyn just uploaded!

[caption1; optimus prime being a very brave boy while being weighed][caption2; cutely decorated suspicious packages are about to be unboxed. if i'm inactive just know alex_albon is responsible!]

alex_albon: his name is optimus prime 🥹🤧 seallygirlyn: it's adorable right? seallygirlyn: when he first got rescued he was fighting with another pup named megatron, so the naming was easy lol

coral: that looks like a lot more than an iphone 🤨 seallygirlyn: i told him to keep it reasonable! but i fear he went too far,,,

user: wow he was really serious about finding you. lwk kinda sweet. it's giving loverboy. 🤭 seallygirlyn: loll don’t read to far into it! he’s just a generous guy ☺️ user: if you say so….

messages • yn -> coral • twitter dm’s • yn -> alex

instagram • seallygirlyn • august 26th

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63, coral, and 17,364 others

seallygirlyn when you ask a man to replace your phone that he broke, he might buy you the newest phone and a bunch of other things (you told him not to get !!) you can't buy my favor, yk? fish says thank you for the stuffie. thank you from me too, alex_albon. this is seriously too much to give for a broken iphone.

view comments

seallygirlyn: going to miss using a flip phone lwk...tysm alex_albon i made it look all pretty in the basket in hopes it fixes your lightly ruined public image

➥ alex_albon: am i forgiven? ➥ seallygirlyn: i already forgave u alex, i told you this 🙂 ➥ alex_albon: just wanted you to say it where everybody can see it! they're still slandering my name ➥ seallygirlyn: you can replace my phone and my dying ipad but, you can never recover my lost seal photos :( ➥ alex_albon: i will pay for your icloud storage from this point forward until my dying breath ➥ seallygirlyn: i need that in writing with a signature ✍️

coral: i told you alex is a good guy! that's why he's been my favorite since f2!!!

➥ seallygirlyn: he's been moved from biggest adversary to occasional nemesis status ➥ alex_albon: that's improvement, i'll take it! thanks for supporting me from before the start, coral! dedicating my next points to both of you! ➥ coral: imgoingtofaint 😵‍💫

georgerussell63: ah. this must be why alex made me pay for his mcdonalds the other day. he spent all of his money on you

➥ alex_albon: GEORGE PLEASE 😟😣 ➥ user1: george is such an instigator. he lives to stir shit up i swear ➥ user2: russell, george. professional cockblocker extraordinaire.

user3: it's a little odd that a man would buy a woman he has no romantic interest in so many expensive gifts....

➥ user4: lol these gifts aren't expensive. the cost was nothing to him, he's an f1 driver and she's nothing compared to him 😒 ➥ user5: jealous little girl alert user4 🚨 ➥ user6: she's nothing compared to him? the woman who works tirelessly to rehabilitate seal pups and release them back into the ocean—the woman who's actively conserving the ocean and protecting marine life, is nothing compared to him? the man who drives an f1 car in circles? try again, girly. you're just jealous any RESPECTABLE man wouldn't give you the time of day. ➥ user7: CLOCK IT ➥ user8: read you like a book user4 🤣

user9: you have an orange cat named fish 🥺

➥ seallygirlyn: yes! isn't he the sweetest boy to ever exist? ➥ user9: i'd kill for fish 🫶🏻

user12: fish and his stuffie are the cutest!!!! i just wanna bite him

➥ alex_albon: not as cute as seallygirlyn ➥ seallygirlyn: ...who asked you? are you calling fish ugly?? ➥ alex_albon: what? NO !!! i was calling you cute?! ➥ user13: that was difficult to read ngl ➥ user14: mission failed. we'll get 'em next time.

general taglist (ask to join):

@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool

@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

seal you later taglist (ask to join):

@poppysrin@everythingabby101@mangotaitai

© httpsserene 2024 — photos used from pinterest. do not re-upload.

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie. 

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain. 

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters. 

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t. 

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes. 

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and  tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

 "Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze.  "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were. 

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger." 

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter. 

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better.  She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody.  Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city.  She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite. 

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice. 

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully. 

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better. 

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them. 

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered. 

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly. 

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended. 

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body. 

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly. 

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented. 

It’s ugly, the shadows complained. 

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else. 

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse. 

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by. 

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed. 

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily. 

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do. 

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed. 

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it. 

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall. 

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs. 

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin. 

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended. 

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be? 

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.” 

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“ 

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister. 

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily. 

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach. 

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his. 

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables. 

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“ 

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice. 

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be. 

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter. 

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her. 

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were. 

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“ 

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“ 

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. 

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes. 

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly. 

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart? 

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“ 

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin. 

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment. 

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. 

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered. 

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.” 

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness. 

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves. 

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face. 

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly. 

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back. 

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t. 

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself. 

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise. 

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close. 

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it. 

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach. 

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind.  Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing. 

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian. 

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it. 

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything. 

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything…. 

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine. 

She was alone just as much as he was. 

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was. 

***

It was quiet in the little cottage. 

Peaceful. 

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb. 

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything. 

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself. 

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage? 

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them. 

And then there was her. 

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could. 

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections. 

She didn’t fault her for that. 

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there. 

Which was fine. 

It was. 

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters. 

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water. 

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right? 

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her. 

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want. 

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea. 

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it. 

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless. 

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light. 

Oh well. 

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either. 

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on. 

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other. 

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once. 

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back. 

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she? 

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow. 

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door. 

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already. 

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel. 

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly. 

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly. 

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?” 

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it. 

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it. 

She could just stare at him. 

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice. 

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?” 

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully.  “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that. 

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.” 

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.” 

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes. 

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook. 

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before. 

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her. 

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious. 

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response. 

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work. 

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising. 

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly. 

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her. 

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm. 

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?” 

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly. 

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say. 

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t. 

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour. 

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs. 

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food. 

[hedgehog-moss]

hello & good morning/afternoon/night! feel free to ignore this ask if you don't want to or don't know how to answer. i have been following your blog for years now, i think, and i have been accompaning your life through the pictures you post. i always had similar dreams of living in a farm or just in a more "secluded" place in general - hiddem away from big cities, i mean, closest place being a small town or even village, you know - and though i have lived alone for 2 years now i have a lot of fears of living by myself in ambient where there is relatively less people (even if there are neighbors not that far away). yknow, classic fears, of being robbed, my house being broken into, etc etc. once again i know it's a different world and the probability of something like this happening is actually higher in places with a bigger populational number, but have you ever had experiences like this? have you ever felt a similar fear? i'm trying to find out if this is something i really want.

Hi ! I love that I read your message last week right after I fondly reminisced about hearing murder screams in my woods at night. I've been thinking about it and I think regardless of what statistics say, some people feel safer surrounded by people in a town while others feel safer in more secluded places—I mean there's probably a personal temperament aspect to this... I've always loved going out for walks in the middle of the night but I couldn't fully relax doing that in cities, while here I find it so relaxing. It's so dark and quiet it feels like walking at the bottom of the ocean <3 It's the closest I can get to the peaceful life of the sea cucumber. And since I'm alone in this forest and there's no one for several km around I feel like nothing bad can happen to me. But I have city friends who would never consider going for a walk with me in the woods at night.

Can't recommend having a medium-to-large dog enough! Despite his debonair manner Pandolf is a good guard dog—one time that I got to test this was when someone parked their car on the side of the road maybe 300m from my house, and stayed there for almost a week. It wasn't a camper van, just a normal car, and every time I went to see it during the day it was empty, but I saw lights in there at night. I didn't like it at all! Why park here in the middle of nowhere. Near my house. This isn't a convenient spot to fish or anything, so where are you all day...? I remember the night I noticed the light in the car from my window, and I sat in my bed like, okay, someone's over there, but even if he gets to my door I have 2 other ways to get out of the house, my nearest neighbours are like 40min away by foot through the woods, I know my woods better than this guy, I'll be fine.

It's the only time that I recall feeling a bit antsy at night—and Pandolf was very alert as a result, he could tell I was nervous and when I went to close the chicken coop in the evenings he went patrolling all over the place in a way he doesn't usually do. I have a natural talent for not doing anything about problems and hoping they'll go away on their own, but after a few days I eventually told a distant neighbour about this weird car, and he came the next evening to talk to this person—but the car left that same day. And when my neighbour came to tell me he hadn't found the car, it was already dark and he parked his car in front of my house and at first Pandolf refused to let him get out. Even though he knows this neighbour and the guy had half-opened his door and was like "Hey Pandolf it's me!", Pan just stood there growling continuously like Cujo. It was good to see that although he's a really friendly dog, if I'm freaked out he can get quite intimidating.

Other than that one weird car story I've never really felt scared being here alone at night, and I didn't worry about that before moving here either, I was impatient to go on nighttime walks in the woods, rather! But having neighbours I'm on friendly terms with that I can call for help if needed, and whose house I can reach by foot, is reassuring; so I think mostly it's a matter of finding the degree of seclusion you're comfortable with. There are all sorts of gradations between living in a big city and living like the first Desert Father :) Is there any way you could try spending some time alone in a more remote area for temporary stays, like holidays, to see if you get used to it and come to appreciate it, or if you feel safer in more populated places?

[nonranghaes]

heads up: poly 97z :3

"none of us look like we're going to the same place." minghao adjusts his wire frame glasses, turning to the three of you. "this is why i can't trust any of you."

to be fair, he has a point. minghao's dressed cozily, with a long cardigan and warm tones, like he's about to go to a coffee shop for a poetry reading or to a wine tasting. which is probably appropriate, considering you are going to his poetry reading alongside the rest of your boyfriends. mingyu's dressed like he's about to go for a ride on his yacht (or whatever--you don't know what rich people do) with that navy blue and white sweater, complete with a pair of sunglasses that college you would have been gawking at the price tag of... and a big ass watch that you don't even know the brand of, but screams luxury. seokmin looks like he just wandered off the set of grease with his leather jacket, almost like he's about to bust out into "greased lightning" at any second. and you... well, you're dressed head to toe in black, stylish enough that you look like you just walked away from your wealthy spouse's funeral and you're already planning on how to spend their money. mingyu's sunglasses would complete the look, now that you're thinking about it.

"i don't see anything wrong," mingyu says, sunglasses lowered. "we look good."

"we do, but..." minghao shakes his head. "you know this isn't a fancy place, right?" he adjusts the edge of his sweater again, clearly a little nervous for what's to come. he's never done a poetry night at this new place, after all.

you're by mingyu's side, leaning against him as you look in the nearby mirror. yeah. definitely going to two different places: he's too colorful. "do you want us to change?"

minghao turns, taking in the sight of the three of you, so mismatched from one another. seokmin wraps his arms around his shoulders, and minghao just leans into his touch before shaking his head. "it's fine."

"think of it this way," seokmin says, already beaming with joy, "you won't lose us in the crowd."

and he's right: minghao's eyes find you easily in the crowded coffee shop that evening, and you see the subtle way he smiles, put at ease. the pictures you'll take later might get playful comments from his friends about how mismatched the four of you are, even with seokmin's jacket hanging over his shoulders... but minghao thinks you fit together perfectly.

[jji-lee]

nipple piercings . pt.2

(MINORS DNI)

make sure to check out pt.1 !

not proof read i haven't slept excuse me pls , ot7 x reader , hyuckle , markren , nominsung , oral f receiving , fondling (everyone's fondling each other tbh) , inexperience jisung , tiny bit of breast play , formally requested here but everyone wanted a part 2 so hazzah ! , ur in the middle mark to ur left chenle to ur right, hyuck next to chenle, renjun standing behind you, nominsung all kneeling in front of u teehee...

if you had known that getting your nipples pierced was gonna land you in this situation you would've gotten them done sooner.

the air grew thick as the boys hovered around you, watching as jeno slowly pulled down your shorts. you felt your body heat up as your pink lace panties came into view, a damp spot evident from the prior ministrations. you heard haechan groan,

"shit baby, you always wear pretty panties to movie night? would've done this sooner if i knew."

you gasped lightly as you felt jeno reach forward to run his fingers against your core, feeling the wetness of your panties. he looked up, eyes soft and sweet.

"is this okay?"

you heard a snort from behind you, followed by a kiss to your jaw,

"jen, you're supposed to ask before you touch her."

you felt renjun's breath against your jaw,

"if you want to stop just tell us, tell me, okay?"

you nodded your head slowly, eyes landing on jeno urging him to continue. he quickly leaned forward, burying his nose against your panties,

"fuck i could smell you from all the way over there baby, i was getting impatient."

you brought your hands up to your face, embarrassed by his actions. you heard chenle whine next to you, reaching forward to push jeno's head back,

"don't do that unless we all get a turn, you're not the only one here, remember?"

you removed your hands from your face, turning to face chenle. a light blush painted his cheeks as his eyes met yours,

"not that i need a turn i'm just saying, you know, it's not fair."

you smiled at him as you brought your hands up to cup his face, leaning forward to plant a light kiss to his lips. he stared at you wide eyed, mouth slightly open, processing what just happened. you giggled as you glanced over at haechan, his expression the same as chenle's, he nodded slightly when your eyes met his.

"me too, me too, please."

he leaned towards you, hands on chenle's thighs to keep himself steady. chenle watched as your lips met haechan's, licking his lips as he saw your lips part, letting haechan's tongue roam your mouth. you backed away from hyuck, his lips plump and shiny, eyes heavy with lust. you watched as he turned to look at chenle, hands gently squeezing his thighs, before planting a quick peck on his lips. you watched as chenle leaned away, a confused look on his face. haechan rolled his eyes before reaching up to grab the back of his neck,

"don't be like that, acting like we haven't kissed before."

chenle chuckled before leaning back in. your eyes widened, renjun laughed behind you,

"those two will find any reason to make out, i swear."

your shock was temporary as you felt a pair of hands tug at your panties, jaemin had pushed jeno aside, wanting to see more of you.

he looked up at you as he pulled you panties down your legs, swallowing hard as his eyes landed on your glistening core,

"can't believe those losers wanna kiss each other when this pretty pussy is right here."

he smiled wide before leaning in, attaching his lips to your swollen clit. he moaned at the taste, hand reaching down to pull his cock free from his sweats. he tugged on his length as he tasted your juices, eyes squeezed shut as he savored the taste. you moaned as he brought his tongue down to prod at your entrance, free hand coming up to massage your clit,

"mm jaem 's too much, i'm not gonna last."

you felt the vibrations as he chuckled into your core, leaning back to grin at you, your juices shining against his lips and chin,

"sorry baby, you just taste too good. ji come here, taste this sweet pussy. remember no teeth okay?"

jaemin patted jisung's back as he scooted in between your legs, looking up at you with a nervous smile,

"he's just kidding, i know how to eat pussy."

mark scoffed next to you,

"you've never eaten pussy ji, don't lie to our girl like that."

jisung bit the inside of his cheek, embarrassed by his lack of experience. you reached down to run your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging at the roots to make him look at you,

"sungie it's okay, don't listen to them, go slow, i'll tell you what feels right, okay?"

jisung nodded quickly, a small smile on his lips as he scooted closer to you exposed core. his fingers reached forward to run along your slit, collecting your juices before landing on your swollen bud. you let out a light moan, encouraging him,

"yeah start right there, feels good ji."

chenle giggled next to you, turning hyuck's head so he'd face jisung,

"he finally found the clit!"

haechan laughed with him, making jisung pout up at you. you turned to glare at the pair, hand coming up to grab haechan's jaw,

"you donghyuck be quiet, you look better with your mouth busy."

you turned his head so he'd look at chenle,

"both of you find a way to be quiet or i swear, me and jisung will handle this privately."

renjun's pushed chenle's head towards hyuck's.

"shut up and keep making out, don't ruin this for us."

as they both locked lips again, jisung was now focused on trying to latch his mouth onto you. his index finger pressed down against your clit, helping him locate it as he brought his tongue past your folds. he moved his finger away as his tongue massaged your bud, lips coming to lightly suckle. you threw your head back against the couch, neck exposed for renjun to plant wet kisses on the skin.

"fuckk ji, right there, feels s' good baby, just like that."

your grip on his hair tightened as he pressed a finger against your entrance, your juices making it easy for him to slip in. you let out a long moan, eyes fluttering shut.

"damn jaem, looks like ji's doing a better job than you!"

jaemin rolled his eyes at jeno, reaching over to push his shoulder. jeno looked at his shoulder where jaemin had just touched him,

"dude did you just touch me with the same hand you were gripping your dick with?"

jaemin let out a silly laugh,

"don't act like you haven't touched my dick before just cause y/n's here, i bet our pretty princess likes the idea of us, you know, doing stuff."

your eyes shot open, as you looked down towards jaemin, a sly smirk on his face.

"do all you guys just touch each other when i'm not here?"

mark reached forward to massage your tits, careful not to hurt your fresh piercings, looking up at you as he nodded in confirmation,

"jun was the one that didn't want to invite you, we all wanted you to join."

renjun grabbed your hair pulling your head back to look at him. he placed a soft kiss on your lips,

"i did want you to join, i just didn't want to scare you away cause of these perverts."

mark reached behind the couch to grab at renjun's bulge making him hunch over, a moan slipping past his lips,

"yeah sure junnie, we're the perverts, acting like you haven't been hard all night watching hyuck and chenle make out."

renjun hissed as mark slipped his hand past the waist band of his sweats, cold fingers touching his hot length.

you looked back down at jisung who was now leaned back against to coffee table, jaemin planting kisses on his neck as jeno reached into his shirt, fingers lightly pinching his hard nipples. as you looked around at your male friends you only had one question,

why the hell would they not invite you sooner?

.

ahaha pt.3 ahaha or naw ahaha

[xomakara]

Love Under the Western Sky

SUMMARY | Two businessmen, Yunho and Mingi, are kidnapped by you, a female outlaw, and your gang, but eventually fall in love and build a life with you and your community.   

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Mingi

GENRE | businessman!Yunho, businessman!Mingi, outlaw!Reader, Western AU (off to the wild west we go), non-idol au, smut

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, kidnapping, threesome, mentions of violence (gunfights), fingering, blowjobs, double penetration sex, unprotective sex, dirty talk, praising, pet names

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH | 15,491 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet

@k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Finally took forever! I want to thank @hobeemin for the beautiful banner/divider and @daddyfordaeddy for beta reading this long ass fic. Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

Yunho and Mingi did not imagine being in this situation. They did not think that they'd be tied up together as a band of crazy outlaws surrounded them.

"We're so fucked," Yunho said as he looked at Mingi. They were both bound by their wrists to each other's backs. Mingi was fiddling with the knot, but it seemed hopeless.

"It's your fault for flirting with her," Mingi snapped. "If you would've just listened to me‒"

"How was I supposed to know that she'd tie us up?!" Yunho replied. "I didn't even think she was a bandit! I thought she was just a pretty lady on the train."

"And look what happened!" Mingi retorted.

Yunho scowled. "Oh shut up. You were flirting with her too. If anyone should be blamed, it's you. You're the one who wanted to start a business out West."

"It was a good opportunity!" Mingi exclaimed.

"Yeah, and we lost our money. Good job," Yunho said sarcastically.

"Hey!" Mingi exclaimed. "If you didn't take the gamble with that asshole‒"

"Shut up, both of you!" You turned to face Mingi and Yunho, a knife pressed against your palm. The sight of you approaching made Mingi nervous.

He had heard of the West being a rough place. And he'd heard of bandits roaming the land, taking whatever they pleased. But he'd also heard of ladies like you. Pretty faces who lulled men into a false sense of security with their smiles before robbing them. He just never thought he'd actually meet a lady like that. And that lady being so damn beautiful was unfair too!

"Miss!" Mingi started. "Whatever you do, don't shoot us. I have money back home. A nice home and a lot of money. If you just let us go, I could make sure you-"

"Let you go?" You scoffed, grabbing Mingi's chin, holding his jaw. He tensed as your thumb moved over his lips. "Now why would I do that, pretty boy? I like a man with a mouth."

"Pretty bo‒ hey! Leave Mingi alone!" Yunho snapped.

"Or what, big boy?" you taunted.

"Big‒" Yunho began to stutter.

"Forget it," Mingi sighed as he looked at you. "Can we please just get this over with? Just rob us and send us on our way."

"Honey," you chuckled. "You really think we just want a bag full of cash?" You leaned down in front of the two and placed the tip of the knife beneath Mingi's chin. You trailed the blade along the length of Mingi's neck, giving him a grin. "You and big boy over here are part of the loot."

Yunho grumbled as you stepped away to greet a couple members of your gang as they finished raiding the train cars. "What the hell did they mean we were part of the loot? Why wouldn't they just take our things? Wouldn't it be easier? That's what I'd do, if I were an outlaw."

"You can't ask something like 'wouldn't it be easier'!" Mingi hissed. "There's plenty of shit outlaws can do."

"Okay, well if I were a murderer, you wouldn't be my loot," Yunho scoffed. "No offense."

"A little bit taken," Mingi admitted.

"Whatever. This doesn't matter. We just need to find a way to escape," Yunho sighed as he twisted around, trying to untie the ropes around his wrists. "Just keep an eye out for a sharp object or something."

Mingi nods. It wasn't going to be an easy task to get loose, not when a member of the gang had kept watch on them every minute they could, ensuring that Mingi and Yunho didn't get anywhere. But as Mingi had a thought to perhaps strangle Yunho for putting them in the position they were currently in, another member of your band made his way to the two.

"Hello boys," he smiled, squatting in front of the two with the ax on his shoulder. Both Mingi and Yunho tried to speak, but neither were able to form words under the pressure that man's presence seemed to exude.

"Shit," Yunho whispered, "we're really fucked now."

"Shut it, both of you," you turned, crossing your arms as you walked over. "Jongho, they're looking to escape. Keep an eye on them."

"No worries," Jongho replied. "I got 'em."

"Get Yeosang over here to help you," you said as you looked at the train platform. "I'll get the rest of the gang to load up the horses and wagons. Then we ride off with these two big fish."

"Are we bringing any other folks?" Jongho asked.

You hummed as you squatted down and looked at both Yunho and Mingi, turning their faces. Both men looked at you like children being scolded. Your laugh couldn't be stopped as you patted their faces and stood back up. "These two will be more than enough. If anyone is looking for them, I bet they're gonna offer a lot. And if they won't, we'll sell 'em," you said it simply, shrugging it off.

"Well, boss, I reckon you're right. Anybody that would travel in luxury like them must be rich," Jongho nudges Mingi, making the man scoff. "Hell, with a pretty face like yours, boy, you'll be worth double, ya hear me?"

You laughed as Mingi huffed in response to being teased. You tapped Yunho on the cheek, catching his attention. "And I can see why you'd make quite the catch too, sweet pea. And a smart one I'd suppose. Just look at that handsome face."

"I‒" Yunho couldn't even come up with a response, not that anyone cared to hear him talk. You laughed again.

"That settles it then," Jongho turned, and, as instructed by you, went to retrieve Yeosang. "We best get these boys loaded up."

"Give me your kerchiefs," you ordered. "We don't need any yelling or shouting to draw attention."

"Yes, Boss. Got it." Jongho patted your shoulder and began to make his way to Yeosang, leaving you with Mingi and Yunho as members of your gang began to herd passengers onto the train again.

It was not difficult for you. Not at all. 

However, you still had quite a job ahead.

"C'mere, sweet cheeks," you leaned down, getting right in Yunho's space. Your lips close to his ear as you whisper. "You want out, you'll have to ask me."

"You are absolutely mental‒" Yunho gasped. "Please, let us go‒"

You press a finger against his lips, cutting off any begging from the man. 

"Shh, sweetheart. If I wanted you to beg, I'd put that pretty mouth of yours to use," you chuckled, standing up straight once again. Yunho did nothing to hide the flustered expression and you simply flashed him a sly smile as you gagged him. You turned to Mingi. "How about you pretty boy?"

"Uh..." Mingi felt embarrassed just from you having tied the gag in Yunho's mouth and could imagine how red his face must be. "I was gonna beg‒"

"Hush," you hummed. "Sweet talking can get you places, but here? Not with me, it won't." You stroked his face, the smile returning to your features. "However, I would appreciate a silent partner. Like your friend there."

You turn from Mingi, deciding it'd be easier to let Yeosang and Jongho help you finish the job rather than tease the two boys for much longer.

After gagging Mingi, your boys do their job well, helping load Mingi and Yunho onto the back of a wagon to prevent them from running away. As much as your heart fluttered watching these tall men be tossed and turned by Yeosang and Jongho, it wouldn't be fun to chase them down should they decide to run off.

You mounted your own horse, petting her neck. She gave a slight whine before letting you settle. 

"I know, sweet girl," you coo. "Almost finished. Once we get home we'll be sure to give you lots of apples." She perks up and you chuckle.

"Got 'em, boss," Jongho announced. His horse trotting up beside yours. He stopped, tossing the reins of a mare that was following. You caught them, giving them a gentle tug, startling the horse.

"Good," you said, "I think it's time we leave."

You watched as Hongjoong and Seonghwa rode beside the wagons. San and Wooyoung on the back of wagons keeping close watch on the hostages and loot.

"Our day will end successfully, boys!" You shout.

They shout and cheer, happy from a day of plunder and robbery. It was quite the sight to behold and the poor city folk who saw your little caravan riding off into the wild definitely knew not to trifle with you or your people.

By now Mingi and Yunho had gotten comfortable with the ropes and their gags. Well, as comfortable as one could get with their ankles and wrists bound together and forced to ride in the back of a wagon.

In fact, as you and your crew got far off from the tracks, the rope around their wrists was cut by one of the men as a kind gesture.

"Looks like you two are the lucky ones. Our boss has a soft heart," Wooyoung added with a grin as he untied the last of Mingi's ropes and the gags. "But if y'all try to escape or scream, not sure what boss will do to you.”

"Oh trust me, we've heard the threats," Mingi replied as he rubbed his sore wrists. He sat up and looked at you, who was riding slightly behind the last wagon, speaking to Seonghwa and Hongjoong. "Who is she, anyways?"

“I’ll tell you the basics but don’t you dare repeat it to Boss or you’ll both be six feet under, got that?” Wooyoung warned.

The men nodded their heads quickly, agreeing that keeping their heads attached to their bodies would be preferred.

“Well… our boss comes from a rich family, back East,” Wooyoung explained. “Tons of land, cows, money and a father with an ill temper. The name isn’t something I feel too happy sayin’ aloud but they’re well known. Their sons, I guess you’d say they’re their greatest achievement. Good looks, but those same bad habits that plagued their father. But he had an eldest who was the best of them. Smart. Quick to make deals. Definitely the favorite out of the three sons. Boss’s family never paid her much attention since they thought their first son would be a good investment for her father.”

"So wait..." Mingi hums, rubbing his sore wrists and watching you intently.

"Don't interrupt, boy," San clicked his tongue. "So long story short, Boss got fed up, robbed her older brother and his finances, left, and moved West where she began working in saloons before picking up some o' my friends along the way and started forming a gang of her own."

Wooyoung nudged San in the ribs, making the man wince. 

"Awww, it's not just any old gang, it's a band of brothers and our lovely boss in charge," Wooyoung said happily as the cart came to a halt, forcing you and Seonghwa to move into the front of the caravans.

"Maybe today is our lucky day, Mingi," Yunho nudged his companion.

"Lucky?" Mingi whispered. "We were kidnapped by an insane woman, and her group of bandits are kidnapping us! What part of that could be called luck?! She might just have us killed at her command and if we escape it could cause an uproar with her people. I'd say we were really and truly cursed to ever get to the West."

Yunho rolled his eyes. "You are stupid."

“Hey!” Mingi exclaimed, feeling offended.

"She obviously could have killed us if we had offended her. She took a liking to you because you're pretty, pretty boy," Yunho scoffed.

“Well she's been eyeing you, big boy,” Mingi teased. “Haven't you noticed the way she looks at us?”

Yunho opened his mouth, wanting to say you'd looked at them the same way plenty of ladies had. However, when Yunho took a deep breath to counter Mingi's theory, you appeared with a water canteen in your hand.

"Alright boys, take a drink. You might not be bound but you aren't gonna cause trouble are you?" You were smirking and Yunho hated himself for the blush rising from his neck up to his face.

Mingi takes the canteen first and takes a quick chug, realizing just how parched he had gotten. He pulls away from the canteen and looks at Yunho.

You flash a quick, cheeky grin. "See? Pretty Boy likes the treatment. I wonder if Big Boy is the same. Care for a taste, sweet thing?"

Mingi watched you teasingly pat Yunho's cheek with the back of your hand. He passed the water to Yunho, and after gulping down a bit of the refreshing water, Yunho gently pushed your hand aside and let go of the canteen.

"Gotta admit," Yunho shrugged. "I thought a pretty woman wouldn't go around shooting innocent folk."

"You know," you tilted your head. "People used to tell me I was sweet, pretty... so innocent. Nowadays they tell me that I'm mean, greedy and absolutely out of my mind. People love to judge."

"I can see why," Yunho admitted with a quiet hum, looking towards your retreating form. "But I have to admit. For a woman running with a gang of outlaws..."

"I'm not running with them, big boy," you stated. "They're running with me. Remember that."

You disappeared to continue talking to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, the two main strategists of the gang. Once you had gone, Mingi hushed his tone to a low whisper. "What the hell was that?!"

“I'm just admitting that I can see why men go chasing after her,” Yunho confessed.

"For the love of god," Mingi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you really this naive, or are you just ignoring the possibility she could kill you and I, and dump our corpses right here?!"

"Look..." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm trying to work on being optimistic."

"Trying. Trying," Mingi mimicked. "That's rich."

“Okay! Fine, genius, you have an idea then!” Yunho challenged.

"Well, no, not yet," Mingi responded, looking at the scenery around them.

"We're fucked aren't we, pretty boy?” Yunho sighed.

"...Yes."

It had only been one night under the open night and another day of travel, but Yunho and Mingi were honestly ready to be killed, whether by the cold or by the outlaws. The blanket on top of their bodies provided little to no warmth and while they tried their hardest not to freeze in the back of the covered wagon, you were bundled up nicely.

As soon as it seemed the two would have finally lost feeling in their fingertips, you turned to them with the same, cool, indifferent gaze as the rest of the outlaw gang. Your features were smooth, but they all had hard eyes, and your band was made of some of the most brutal cowboys and bandits.

"I'm impressed, gentlemen. How are you not frozen stiff?” you asked, surprised.

Yunho wondered this as well, and found himself trembling from the chill that nipped at his nose, ears, and fingers. The flimsy, dirty cloth the two shared between the both of them offered little protection from the cold, and no comfort.

"Can I ask you a question? A personal one," Yunho was rubbing his numb fingers, desperate for heat.

You are riding next to the wagon again. Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still not willing to let you ride ahead on your own, in the event either of your hostages were foolish. "Since you were brave enough to ask it, yes. You may. It depends on the question though."

"Fair point," Yunho acknowledged. He and Mingi could have just asked anything to anger you. "My question... Why outlaws? If your family is as well off as I'm assuming-"

"So one of the two idiots," you looked at San and Wooyoung who both suddenly avoided looking at you, "told you, huh? It was bound to happen... But that is a fair question. In return, can I ask you some questions, big boy?"

"Sure," Yunho nodded.

"I know you have some skill with a gun, big boy. That must have come from a long line of working cowboys or farmers, right? Compared to pretty boy there," you point to Mingi, the man practically fuming about being called pretty boy. You continue. "It's just a feeling I got. Why didn't you grab a gun? Try to save yourself, sweet pea? Or maybe pretty boy was holding you back?"

Yunho shifts. His necktie hanging loose, and his clothes being an absolute mess. He shrugged, trying his hardest not to stammer. He was absolutely nervous by your blunt observation, yet could not say you were wrong.

"Funny..." Yunho muttered. "You read me pretty well."

"So? Why were you worried about that pretty face of yours, Mister...?" You looked at Yunho, trying to fish for a name.

"Yunho. Jeong Yunho," He cleared his throat. "Yea. And this is Song Mingi. He's my business partner and best friend. We've come out West to make a new future for the two of us. Mingi can use a gun but isn't a master at it. I wouldn't call him a coward, but he'd be a fool if he ever decided to pick a fight he knows he can't win."

“And you?” you asked, “Would you have shot me and the rest of my gang if pretty boy wasn't here, or did you hesitate for another reason? A lady in the group, for instance. Are you a man who won't shoot a woman, Jeong Yunho?”

Mingi gulps. "Don't answer that, Yunho‒"

Yunho doesn't get a word out before you interject, "Let him speak, pretty boy."

"I hesitated, because even if you're a woman, I'm not a fan of shoot-outs," Yunho explained, staring directly into your eyes.

"Is that so?" You seem satisfied enough by that answer, a grin plastered on your face. It unsettles Yunho. You have something behind that grin, he was sure of it. "Since you answered a few of my questions, I'll answer yours. Yes, I'm from a well-off family, and yes my father is a wealthy landowner. He owns thousands of acres of farmland, livestock, and plenty of money. My mother was a socialite from overseas, and my oldest brother was gifted with good looks and smarts and was the favorite son. My other two older brothers were spoiled rotten and used my mother's social influence and our father's business ventures to try and bed as many girls they wanted. Me on the other hand? I was the black sheep in the family."

“May I ask why?” Yunho inquired.

You crossed your arms, taking a quick look around. As much as you admired Yunho for his handsome face, your trust in people had already run dry from years of interaction with your parents and your brothers.

"To put it simply, I wasn't perfect enough to bag a rich man who was perfect in my parents' eyes," your bitterness could be felt throughout your entire body. "I was 'too mouthy', 'opinionated’, and definitely didn't ‘act enough like a lady.' I learned how to shoot guns, ride horses like my brothers, and could tussle like any ole cowboy. So, when I realized no man of worth wanted a tomboy as a wife, I stole from my older brother, set off west to build my own fortune and found the friends you see surrounding us. With a bit of their help, the fortune I inherited from the past years of robberies and swindling is only getting bigger."

"Now tell me," you suddenly frowned. "Do you think I'd be content with the life of a trophy wife and a woman with nothing to her name, while you men get praised for being adventurers, explorers, and the kings of the world? To hell with that, sweet pea. I prefer the freedom to do what I want, to tame what I see. There's no room for people who get in the way."

You pointed the muzzle of your rifle towards the men and stared straight on. "You should know, Jeong Yunho. If you or Mister Song Mingi decides to try to kill any of my men, or escape, I will not hold back. This isn't an invitation to stay and work with us, this is a warning for what will happen if you don't behave yourselves."

"Got it... but it is awfully cold back here," Mingi finally added. 

You did feel a bit bad for them since they had given no problem at all thus far. Sure, there were times they both had argued about when would be the best time to escape and make a break for it, but ultimately, Yunho just didn't see the reason to harm or attempt an attack on someone who was not outright being hostile to them. He was a neutral man. Even when your crew had stopped for a bite to eat, both the hostages ate their meals in silence. Mingi did glare every so often and Yunho just seemed to zone out, even as some of your gang poked a little fun.

You nodded over to San, who threw a quilt to the hostages. "Fine. Since I trust you to be quiet for another few hours. We'll be stopping soon so everyone can stretch and sleep comfortably. Don't make me regret this, boys."

As much as Mingi complained, the extra warmth felt better than the previous night. The quilt was still dirty and probably hadn't been washed in a few days, but it was better than before. Yunho couldn't exactly hide his yawn and the way he relaxed now that the chill from his shoulders had gone. The threat of freezing to death was gone, but he felt a prickle down his back from you staring.

You turned your head back and patted your horse, cooing softly to the animal. Mingi caught your smile from the corner of his eye and pouted slightly, his lips puffing out more. He kept staring for a few moments longer, before Yunho nudged him.

"What?" Mingi whispered harshly.

"And you said that I was the one gawking. Looks like you can't help yourself from drooling over her either," Yunho snickers quietly. Mingi punches Yunho in the arm. "Oww! Will you stop hitting me?!"

"I won't let you make fun of me! Not when she's not listening!" Mingi points in your direction. 

“Then stop looking at her,” Yunho said.

“You stop looking at her!” Mingi retorted.

The banter continued a little while longer, and with the warmth from the quilt and a full stomach, Mingi began to feel his body sag. You listened as your gang members all laughed to themselves and teased your two hostages. You shook your head, not allowing them to know that they amused you.

When you approached Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you motioned them to dismount their horses for a moment. The rest of the men listened and stayed out of your sight as you moved towards the cart where the hostages were waiting.

"I hate to admit it, but our little hostages are surprisingly nice people," Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully, ignoring the angry glare sent by Yunho, and Mingi's nervous glances. Seonghwa was fairly intimidating, with his shaggy hair and sharp gaze. "The big one could have shot us when he had the chance."

"Sure," You agreed. "I feel a little bad but teasing them has been so fun."

Mingi frowned as he had been contemplating everything that had been going on for the last day. They had not been beaten, nor were the hostages harassed beyond teasing. It was weirdly entertaining to find out that he and Yunho were seen as oddities because they didn't fight back. He thought at the beginning of how Yunho got them in this mess.

Yunho didn't have to flirt with the pretty woman he saw on the train. They could have been in another compartment and be far away from this woman and her insane, outlaw group. Why of all things did Jeong Yunho just have to stare at the pretty, petite young woman? 

Okay, sure Mingi thought she was just another passenger, maybe on her way west to visit family or something like that. Yet there she was, dressed to impress and there were whispers from fellow passengers when she got on. Even he could see the glimmer in his partner's eyes and hear the small comments that came out when Yunho first laid eyes on her. She was a beauty in anyone's books. Mingi and Yunho had a soft spot for dames and never considered that would be their downfall.

Yunho should have never caught her gaze and then before they knew it the dame came sitting across them. He kept the conversations light and easy between them three, and Mingi found himself taken along for the ride as they sat through hours of the same scenery, yet felt the journey go by just a bit faster thanks to a pretty gal like her being part of the equation.

When the sun started to set, that's when everything turned a bit south. There were six outlaws that pulled their horses over to the rail cars, their hats worn down and their faces shadowed from view by the shadows of their broad brimmed Stetson hats and the darkness setting around the group. Their movements were swift, pulling out guns that seemed to be as natural for them as breathing.

"Toss those weapons in here and stay inside ladies and gentlemen," said one man in the group, whose lips curled back into a crooked smirk.

"Miss, please stay in the compartment," Yunho assured the pretty lady. "You don't want to deal with the likes of these types of people."

You watch quietly, sitting in your seat without worry. The gunslingers came their way and took any weapons the other travelers had. When they got close, the two men's hands moved towards their belts in an instant.

"Leave the pretty lady alone or we'll have problems," Yunho stepped closer, pointing his pistol towards the gunslingers, though his finger hovered over the trigger, his movement unsure.

You glared at him with the iciest tone either man had heard in their lives. "Who are you calling a pretty lady?"

Your hand came around his gun, quickly prying it away, before yanking Yunho forward by the neckerchief that rested against his neck.

"H-hey!" Mingi saw her slam her head straight into the tallest man, bringing him to his knees.

"Thanks for the compliment, boys," you smirked, training the gun in his face. "But you'll find that I'm no dame or damsel in need of saving."

Yunho clutched his forehead, his brain running in circles as the two cowboys behind him jeered and poked fun at him. His expression dropped once his mind started working again and the pain subsided.

You turned to the outlaws. "Tie 'em up boys."

And now they were here sitting in front of the fire pit with outlaws watching their every move. Seonghwa stood beside the cooking fire, watching a bubbling stew boil. Wooyoung was still near them and just watching his surroundings.

“Here,” Mingi looked up when you handed him a bowl of stew. After that fiasco of a train heist, Mingi couldn't help but stare appreciatively at your figure. You no longer wore the dress from the train but instead wore a pair of britches that hugged your legs in just the right place. Mingi sighed, cursing the way his thoughts got out of hand. "Thanks..."

Yunho gladly took a bowl as well. And almost immediately he could taste a pinch of spices, he sniffed deeply. The stew was basic and yet it was the most flavorful one he's had for a long while. It was nice for them to take care of their hostages instead of starving them. They have plenty, and yet they were willing to share a meal.

After a long day, the stars were clear in the sky. The waning moon cast its glow on the land as the horses whinnied, happily feeding and drinking out of the troughs the outlaws left behind. Everyone had found their bedding areas, not too far away from their fire pits that now had hot coals in place and wood pieces above them to keep everyone warm.

While Yunho watched the flames dance, his thoughts wandered, mainly focused on his partner, and their trip. How did it come to this, he wondered. The two had a goal of starting a store of sorts, far away from the overbearing presence of families. For once, he wished for his old life. The one where he didn't worry about being held hostage, and Mingi wouldn't stare at him while he contemplated his decisions.

"If you look at me like that," Yunho began. "It feels like you are judging me for how stupid I was earlier."

He can't look at his friend right now. If he did, there is no telling whether Mingi is still mad, or still annoyed by the turn of events. Yet, Mingi's laughter surprised him. "Oh, I was definitely judging. I can't believe you got cocky around a woman and let her get the jump on us."

"Sorry," he laughed.

"All jokes aside..." Mingi placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "She is definitely a very different kind of woman."

A quiet settled upon the two friends. The crackling fire did little to calm Yunho's racing thoughts as the heat filled the cool evening air. In the distance, Yunho watched as you patted your horse, murmuring and comforting the large animal. A quiet, loving gesture shared with your animal companion, that the horse returned in the form of nuzzling its snout close to your neck and an affectionate lick from their tongue. The sight brought a smile to Yunho's lips as you let out a giggle, brushing your hand through the horses' mane. It was a peaceful display of affection, and his heart calmed a touch.

When you made it back into the clearing, he averted his gaze as you approached.

"It is getting late," your voice startled both of the men, their bodies immediately stiff. "Try to get some sleep like the rest of the guys. We leave at dawn. Don't try to escape or you'll get a shot to the leg, so stay put."

"Okay..." Mingi agreed.

"Hey, before you leave," Yunho paused. "We didn't catch your name earlier. Is it alright if we can get it?"

Your response was curt, as you eyed Yunho and Mingi carefully. "Y/N."

Yunho watches you turn and move away from him, towards one of the bedrolls that seemed to be set up for you, laying your weapon close by and then proceeding to climb in, rolling your body until the blanket covered your figure. A soft sigh leaves your lips before you lay on your back. Your eyes are closed and he wonders briefly what you could be dreaming about before deciding to take his mind off such things.

"A lady that can shoot a man, can't beat around the bushes, and a looker to boot..." Mingi said the words slowly, as if trying to digest the fact. "Who would've thought?"

Yunho thinks back on his experiences with women, from the social butterflies at parties to the women who had gone starry eyed and then fallen to their knees in front of him, pleading. But you were different. You weren't a proper lady or a demure creature that existed to keep the men's hearts aflutter and their imaginations afire, which wasn't uncommon.

If he's honest, he much prefers your company. While he is a gentleman to the core, he doesn't know what exactly he likes best about you. Yunho ponders a bit more. He considers a lot of things before his friend elbows him and his attention shifts back to the real world.

"She's something, alright. One hell of a woman, is all," he responded quietly. He's also very much attracted to you and he'd love nothing more than to charm you. That would definitely take the cake for the grandest adventure of them all.

Mingi sighs.

Both the men hunker down in their spots, curling together for warmth as the cool mountain air blows through. The scent of grass and fresh air blows past their noses as they doze off to sleep.

It's been an awfully long day.

After all, everyone was snoring the night away.

When Mingi stirs awake, there's a good number of the gang up and preparing to get moving. Breakfast is hot, and with a sweet note, the outlaws treat their two hostages with kindness. After all, you had warned everyone before you went to sleep the previous night: anyone who threatened either hostage would find themselves in hot water. And you weren't kidding when you meant it.

You saddled the horses and each rider got ready. Yunho and Mingi were settled in the wagon as the riders surrounded the cart. Today was another long trip, but you can see the excitement in their eyes, especially the hostages who seemed curious and wondering when the ride would finally come to an end.

"You got a destination in mind?" Yunho calls out suddenly. He doesn't know why he decides to break the silence, but your face says it all when he sees you look at him and roll your eyes.

"Now why would I tell you that?" You snorted. "After all, there would be no real reason for either of you to know where we're heading."

"If we're just baggage, then I don't see the point of you hiding the fact," Mingi shrugged. "We'll find out once the days out."

"There's the next town westward where I'm planning on getting to sooner than later. Besides, what kind of bandits would we be if we revealed our hideouts?" You explain, keeping a watchful eye.

Mingi shrugs and makes an innocent expression. "No idea. You'd have to be real dumb for that. Guess not."

"Just hush up and behave. You two won't get hurt so long as we move along," you keep the wagon moving and ignore the quips and questions they throw.

Once at the gates of the town, a couple of the bandits lead the way. Wooyoung, San, Jongho, and Yeosang line up along the streets as the few people in town waved at you.

"Y/N! You're back!"

"Yay! They're back!"

Children giggled and waved their hands with happy smiles on their lips as they jumped. "Hello!"

You laugh softly when a couple of small children rush up to see their uncles. Each member happily interacts and takes the time to see the small children that had grown since the last time you all were in this part. You smile and pat the children on the back as you watch everyone settle into town.

"For an outlaw, she seems very loved by the townsfolk and children," Mingi muttered to Yunho.

Hongjoong hears this and raises an eyebrow. "She's not as bad as you two think."

"He's right, we don't follow her because she threatens our families. None of us are family here," Seonghwa cuts in, pointing at the men, women, and children around him and back in your direction. "These people...they are family. This is home. She takes care of them, protects them."

Yunho purses his lips, waiting for more, but Hongjoong continues, "Before all this, we had no place to call home. Y/N took us in, helped all of us find somewhere we could belong. Even if we wanted to leave, she wouldn't force us to stay, we'd be allowed to go. She won't shoot you and leave you out to die. But we're a family."

Jongho sighed, watching a small child giggling at you as she clung to your leg, "As an orphan, and someone who grew up without a family, seeing a home and a family like this? It gives me a reason for hope in a world full of strife and destruction, but when you meet a person like her..."

Yeosang hummed in agreement. "A woman that has such a strong love for children, and looks out for them as if they were her own? That alone is precious. But even then...that's not the main reason we follow her."

San nodded. "Sure she robs trains and banks...but all that money and gold she steals? It's not for her own use. She's done nothing for herself and gave us a new start in life."

Wooyoung lets out a sigh. "It's for these people. It's the children...we protect them because they have no one. For the women whose men go off and die on a battlefield, they have a way to live. For the men who can't work, can't find jobs and are struggling...for the elders whose children no longer can provide for them, or the people who have no one? They're everything."

"Y/N is a good woman," Seonghwa smiled. "We wouldn't leave her, just as she would never leave us either."

Mingi and Yunho exchanged a look as they turned to you. This revelation had surprised them and both decided to wait and see, for if what they heard is true, perhaps they had judged you a bit too rashly.

A child ran towards the wagon and peered up at them before looking at Wooyoung. "Who are they, Uncle Woo?"

"These guys are Yunho and Mingi, little ones," you came up, stroking the kids' head gently and the child cooed with joy.

"They look funny," another added as Mingi grinned at the kid. Yunho simply chuckled in amusement.

A few children crowded the wagon, wanting to see the strangers. You put them at ease, saying a few friendly words. Mingi reached forward to tickle one.

"He's pretty," one of the little girls pointed at Mingi and giggled.

You couldn't help but laugh. "He is, isn't he?"

One of the boys looked up at Yunho. "He's like a giant, Y/N!"

A second boy clapped. "Giant man!"

You smile widely. "Don't be so mean now. Come on, everyone."

The children jump and dance as they walk after you, chanting the phrase and a group of men soon join them. It was a rather humorous thing, having kids chanting 'giant man', to see Yunho so embarrassed. Mingi held a big smile as you listened to the children.

“Where did you pick them up?” a child asked curiously.

“Is one of them going to be your husband, Y/N?” a child asked innocently.

“No!” another child declared, “I think they're going to be like the other uncles!”

The children are merciless and relentless. Their teasing was making you laugh out loud and in return, that brought a blush to Mingi and Yunho's cheeks. A couple of kids gathered near Wooyoung. He glanced down before smiling.

"They really like their uncles," Mingi pointed.

Yunho smiled as he leaned back. "Look at that smile."

The outlaws were taken away with all the people and their families, greeting them with waves and smiles as a celebration appeared to be prepared for the whole afternoon and evening. You looked over to your hostages as a grin overtook your lips. "How would you fellas feel about enjoying a drink with me? You both could join the fun while we get ourselves set."

"Well we've come all this way..." Mingi murmured before a smirk found its way to his lips. "Why not enjoy ourselves a bit?"

Yunho nodded along, smiling in turn as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I had a good time."

You patted their shoulder, steering the two to a building. "Then, follow me."

Entering a saloon, Mingi and Yunho glanced around, eyeing the decorum that was inside the room. There are a couple of rooms and a stage that sat at the side of the establishment, a long bar at the opposite side, and in between, there is a seating area where some people sat. The two friends sit down with you at the bar.

A middle aged gentleman who happens to be the owner of the bar sees you and greets you in kind, happy that you came with guests.

"Goodness, and who are the two tall men accompanying you, Y/N?" His gentle eyes are wide, but not in a judgmental way, he seems quite pleasant.

You gesture your hand at the two gentlemen behind you. "This here's Mingi and Yunho, we've run into a bit of a...situation on the road. Decided to bring them in."

The older man hummed and tapped his finger on his cheek, grinning. "Ah, I understand."

Yunho decided to jump into the conversation. "You're very close with the townsfolk."

"Close may be one way to put it," you sigh. "Though...in reality, they're family."

“Family…?” Yunho asked, confused.

“That’s right,” you said. “These folks don’t have much to their name. And if it means using the money from robbing a few trains and banks? To ensure everyone is fed, clothed, and to take care of their loved one’s funerals or needs if it’s too late, it’s worth the price of jail or hanging for the consequences,” you finished firmly.

"Y/N here funded the saloon with business owners when they moved into town, helped the farmstead with the seedlings and labor," the older gentleman added as he cleaned a mug with a cloth. "Even has a doctor working for the people."

Yunho raised a brow, staring at the wooden surface of the bar top in front of him, deep in thought. When his attention shifts to you, he opens his mouth, hoping the question will do well. "I want to understand...so how does this work? No sheriff in sight, people all living this comfortably?"

The old man shakes his head. "No, there's no law man to protect us here...but Y/N and her gang have. We all know that she comes from good money and she could have looked the other way. But she didn't. We're like an oasis for all these folks."

"So they know you're an outlaw?" Yunho asks you.

"What about other cowboys that bother this town?" Mingi wonders.

The bar keeper smiles as he pours you, Mingi, and Yunho a pint of liquor.

"Mostly the town does have good relationships with all the ranchers and cattlemen here," the bartender states. "Of course, we've also met with the wrong people, but there is a small ranch that we've reached a deal with to handle such people should they happen."

You raise your glass towards the man and take a deep breath, exhaling the tension away. "Everyone here knows what I am and don't worry about any other issues coming here. The neighboring ranches tend to mind themselves, but most are on friendly terms with the town so it makes life pretty peaceful."

"Well that's certainly something," Mingi sniffs the mug that had been placed in his hands and shrugs his shoulders. He figured it wouldn't hurt and brought the drink to his lips. "And it's hard to not see why the people adore you. You and your gang are really good people. Never would have pegged you for a villain in a story."

"Did you think I was a villain?" You gave him an amused smile.

"Yeah, kind of. What do you expect? It's not every day that a group of train robbers shows up, scaring the bejesus out of a man like myself, and bringing me, another poor soul into whatever life altering plan they might have, let alone bringing us back to a home full of people, children, and the elderly," Mingi offered, sarcasm heavily dripped in his voice. He rolls his eyes for added measure. "The imagination runs wild in times of panic."

Yunho furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, in our defense, a group of strangers showing up, guns out and all, then ropes our arms up and threatens to kill us should we move the wrong way, does tend to rattle the bones."

"But you're the one who flirted with me, big boy. Should we rehash the details of that whole conversation?" you grinned at him and raised a brow in his direction, wanting a good reaction.

Yunho looked up to the ceiling, gulping the last of his beverage with ease, a handsome blush crossed his features.

You'd always taken to a bit of flirtatious ways, not very reserved, but charming nonetheless. Seeing this rugged and handsome man flush with color from simple flattery, only egged you on further to see what other emotions you could muster from the beautiful and curious man. You had to admit Yunho was more your type of man but Mingi certainly had a very nice personality.

Both were rather attractive in your book.

Mingi pokes fun at Yunho before clearing his throat and nudging him with his elbow. His partner swats him on the arm before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps another drink would put me at ease."

"In my company, I wouldn't mind at all. It would be an absolute delight," you simper.

The bartender nods and makes two more pints. Once they were placed on the counter, the man gestures a nod in Mingi and Yunho's direction. The two drink once the mugs are near their lips.

"Alright, you lot had me wrong, that was rude on my part," Mingi spoke before raising his mug, signaling his admission of apology. "There are a good lot here."

The older man and you take a drink in solidarity with him.

Yunho shares a genuine smile. "Well, thank you for the peace of mind that we have in our lives for now. Maybe...things could work."

You grin back. "Well, I'm glad to have both of your understanding."

"Is everyone ready for dinner?" Hongjoong shouts, breaking the three's conversation and the crowd cheered in return.

Children scamper away and adults gather outside for dinner. A few people were cooking in front of the bonfire outside the establishment, the women prepared the food as the rest of the gang sat with you.

"Yay, uncle Mingi and uncle Yunho will be able to join us today!" The little girl from earlier happily declared their presence and both men gave her soft smiles.

"Look, she's already calling you uncle." You pointed out.

"Come here, little missy," Mingi knelt down, beckoning the girl over.

You couldn't help the little hiccup in your chest when she came bounding over happily. Her soft plush face had a pink hue across her cheeks and she held a soft look. She really was cute as can be and even though the man before you was the opposite in height and temperament, the sight had you falling fast.

She sat on his lap and leaned back, resting against his large torso as they watched the sky start to brighten up with more orange streaks than red and pink hues. She whispers something in his ear and you couldn't help but see Mingi's cheeks redden. The child leans up to whisper in Yunho's ear and asks him most likely the same question since his cheeks flushed after listening to her as well. You watched as she ran away to throw herself in Yeosang's lap as he played and made faces to make her giggle.

"Well, what did she ask you?" You asked after sitting on the porch between them.

Yunho and Mingi fumbled a bit as they glanced at one another before Yunho began, "Missy wanted to know when we were going to marry you."

You blinked rapidly, caught off guard by the straightforward nature of the question. Mingi couldn't help but look up towards the sky.

Your jaw dropped at the bold question and you tilted your head to the side with interest. "Oh yeah? What did you tell her?"

They glance between one another before Mingi pipes up, "Told her we'd probably marry if you were down to have an arrangement. Not that she needed to know that last part."

The atmosphere changes with the different shades of lights. More reds and darker pinks painted the skies, bright and vivid, mixing to a light orange and gold color that brings a sense of peaceful tranquility to everyone.

You smiled at their answer and laughed at Mingi's last sentence. "Probably be married huh? It's been years since I've thought of marriage. Ever since I ran away."

"What's stopping you?" Yunho asked with a mischievous lilt, clearly feeling himself under your influence of mirth. "There's no real reason not to get married if you and another fancy it."

You purse your lips in thought, playing with the brim of your cowboy hat. "Who would want someone like me? As a bandit, my days are always in danger."

"We might," the taller man spoke without any sort of shame.

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “Honey, you both couldn't keep up with me, that's no way to start a marriage.”

"Didn't mean to brag but...I'm no weak man," Yunho smirked and leaned close, resting an elbow on his knee.

Your own smile tugged up as a breeze blows past the three of you and ruffles your hair. You reach forward and rest your hand against Yunho's arm and smile softly. "Is that right? Because I like to ride long and hard at night."

Mingi stared wide-eyed at the double meaning while you fluttered your eyelashes.

Yunho sits up with a broad smirk, his smile teasing and gentle in a way he didn't want to stop, enjoying himself, letting himself unravel before your gaze as you invited him in. "Oh darlin'...I wouldn't mind seeing that."

A full grin appears on your face. You stand up slowly, bending towards Yunho with your chin lifted in pride. You meet his eyes, watching with awe when his attention travels across your facial features. A rush of delight flooded your senses with the feel of his heavy, loving gaze on you.

Yunho let his smile grow a touch wild as you ran a hand over his cheek gently before tugging his face by his chin, a silent command to listen closely. Mingi stares, enamored by the atmosphere. "I ride slow, darling, slow and steady. Feeling everything at a pleasant pace."

With an inhale, Yunho leaned further, a fire kindled in his heart with no intention of taming. Just as he did, Mingi leaned his head in your direction, his hand brushing the loose strand away from your eyes and to your ear. He gently tucked it behind and kept his fingers over your skin, warm and soft under his caress.

The sensuality of the moment lulls. Mingi and you stare at each other, observing the hunger brewing within your shared gaze and you press a hand over his lips to signal his end, waiting until you receive an answer from your last statement to Yunho. The large cowboy took a deep breath in and brought his cheek to the back of your fingers, placing a tender kiss to your skin before pulling back to observe.

With a playful nip to your fingertips, Yunho mumbled, his low, velvety tenor caused heat to pool in your stomach. "I hear what you're saying, sweetheart."

The brush of a finger to the back of your neck and you can see how Mingi was looking at you, the shine to his brown eyes reflecting the gold and orange lights as you stare and drop your hand back down to your side. Your hand naturally presses along Yunho's shoulder and takes hold of Mingi's sleeve with a subtle tug that beckons their closeness.

"Shame," you mutter as you grip their collars to pull the pair towards the entrance to the saloon.

Mingi leaned to your side with his face pressed against your ear. The heat and deep voice sent a shiver down your body. You can feel the way the gentle weight of Yunho's chest pressed against yours when he whispered, "Don't you want to see where the three of us can lead to?"

You let out a small laugh, your hand cupping his cheek. "Not tonight boys, not just yet."

You watched as Yunho and Mingi happily played with the children, sharing stories from back home, telling tall tales, and entertaining the small community of misfits. Their infectious and open nature charmed all those around. It brought a sense of whimsical air that you didn't have a chance to breathe often, to just allow yourself a moment to relish in the simplicity of laughter and peace.

It was soothing.

"They seem to be fitting in well," Seonghwa offered his greeting after walking towards where you stood on the porch to the saloon. "The children seem to love them. And the adults too. I'd say it's because they bring new energy and energy for such folks is much appreciated."

"New stories. New tales," you added.

"Oh? Have you taken a liking to the hostages?" Hongjoong chuckles as he hands the two of you a mug with drink. He knows exactly the situation as it played out. He doesn't have anything but fondness in his eyes, seeing how fond you've become with the two of them and you shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe they'll leave someday and I'll just miss the company of a handsome fellow. You can never have enough," you muse out loud. Hongjoong let his brow rise at you but couldn't hold back a teasing grin. He bumped shoulders, earning a hum of contemplation.

"Look, you know damn well you're the boss and none of us would stand between you and whatever makes you happy," Seonghwa answers. "But two businessmen? Y/N, they're from well-respected families and I'm sure men like them would want well-respected ladies."

"I know, Hwa," you huffed. "But I used to be one of those well-respected ladies. And you both were once those well-respectable gentlemen. Things change."

"Do you miss home, Y/N?" Seonghwa's question cut straight to the bone, digging into your chest in a way you hadn't considered. He notices it and so does Hongjoong who tried his best to let you come to a resolution yourself.

"No," you muttered, eyes never leaving the town, the lively noises, and the scent of cooked meat and sweets filling the atmosphere. "This is our home. These people need us and we wouldn't ever abandon them."

Hongjoong gulped down his mug, set it down, and leaned on the post, staring into the sky before continuing his line of thought. "Y/N. No matter who we are, and who they were...I know neither of us can go back and none of us should ever try and go back. We can only live right now. So, does it really matter? You've been with other cowboys before...surely rich boys aren't much of a different kind of challenge."

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"It'll take a lot to hurt me, Hwa," you smiled at him. "But thank you for looking out for me."

Yunho and Mingi gaze in your direction and share a curious expression. One with a pink hue adorning the apples of his cheeks and the other with a hand scratching the back of his neck. They notice the stares directed towards them and share a shy, tiny smile with one another.

"But maybe this time, I don't mind taking a risk or two," you added as a sigh, a tiny sigh slipped past your lips, accompanied by a rosy pink that tinted your cheekbones. The edges of your lips curved up in the slightest to form a small and amused smile at the two.

"Taking a risk, huh?" Hongjoong mused, following your gaze to Yunho and Mingi. "Well, can't say I blame you. They do seem like decent fellas."

You hummed in agreement, watching as Yunho lifted a small boy onto his shoulders while Mingi dramatically acted out a story for the other children. Their laughter rang out across the town square.

"Decent indeed," you murmured. 

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the town, you found yourself drawn to where Yunho and Mingi were still entertaining the children. Their infectious laughter and easy smiles had captivated not just the little ones, but many of the adults as well. 

You approached just as Mingi was wrapping up an elaborate tale, complete with exaggerated gestures that had the kids in stitches. Yunho caught your eye and gave you a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"Alright kiddos, I think it's about time we let these fine gentlemen get some rest," you announced, chuckling at the chorus of disappointed groans. 

"But Y/N, can't they stay up a little longer?" one of the young girls pleaded, tugging on your sleeve.

"Now, now, don't you worry. I'm sure Mr. Yunho and Mr. Mingi will be happy to tell you more stories tomorrow," you said, ruffling the little girl's hair affectionately. "But for now, it's time for bed."

With a few more grumbles and pouts, the children reluctantly said their goodnights and scampered off to their homes. You turned to Yunho and Mingi, who were both looking a bit worn out but still smiling.

"You two certainly have a way with kids," you remarked. "I haven't seen them this excited in ages."

Yunho chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're great kids. Reminds me of home a bit."

"Got some little ones waiting for you back East?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

"Oh no," Yunho clarified quickly. "Just some younger cousins and neighbors' kids I used to look after sometimes. No little ones of my own."

You felt a small sense of relief at that, though you tried not to examine why too closely. "What about you, Mingi? Any family waiting on you?"

Mingi shook his head. "Nah, it's just been me and Yunho for a while now. We came out West to start fresh, make our own way."

"And instead you got kidnapped by a gang of outlaws," you said with a wry smile. "Not quite the fresh start you were hoping for, I imagine."

Yunho and Mingi exchanged a look, then Yunho spoke up. "You know, it hasn't been all bad. This place, these people... it's not what we expected, but there's something special here," Yunho said thoughtfully. "I can see why you care for them so much."

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "They're good people who've been dealt a tough hand. They deserve better than what this world's given them."

"And you've made it your mission to provide that," Mingi observed. "It's admirable, really."

You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under their earnest gazes. "I do what I can. It's not always pretty or legal, but..."

"But it's necessary," Yunho finished for you. "We get it. Or at least, we're starting to."

A comfortable silence fell between the three of you as you watched the last rays of sunlight fade from the sky. You looked at them curiously. “How was your first night sleeping in town? The rooms above the saloon, okay?”

Mingi nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It was comfortable, thank you. Certainly beats sleeping on the hard ground or in the back of a wagon."

"Though I must admit, I did miss the stars," Yunho added with a chuckle. "There's something about sleeping under that big open sky that's hard to beat."

You couldn't help but smile at that. "I know what you mean. Even after all this time, I still prefer a bedroll under the stars to a proper bed most nights."

"Is that why you're out here instead of tucked away at your house?" Mingi asked, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.

You shrugged, feeling a bit exposed under their gazes. "Old habits die hard, I suppose. Plus, someone's got to keep an eye on things."

"Always the protector," Yunho murmured, his voice soft with admiration.

You felt a flush creep up your neck at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Clearing your throat, you gestured towards the saloon. "Well, it's getting late. We should probably turn in for the night."

As you started to walk away, Mingi called out, "Y/N, wait."

You turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 

Mingi and Yunho exchanged a look before Mingi continued, "We've been talking, and... well, we were wondering if maybe we could stick around for a while. Help out around town, you know?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your expression neutral. "Oh? And what brought this on? I thought you two were eager to start your new lives out West."

Yunho stepped forward, his expression earnest. "We were, but...this place, these people. It's opened our eyes to something we didn't expect to find out here. There's real community here, real purpose. And if we can help in some small way, well, that seems like a better use of our time than chasing after some vague dream of striking it rich."

You studied them both carefully, searching for any sign of deception. But all you saw was sincerity in their eyes. Still, you couldn't help but be cautious. "And what about your families back East? Your old lives? You'd be giving up a lot to throw your lot in with a bunch of outlaws."

Mingi shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "To be honest, there wasn't much holding us there anyway. That's why we came West in the first place. To find something more."

You studied them carefully, taking in their earnest expressions. Part of you wanted to believe them, to welcome them into the fold without hesitation. But years of living on the edge had taught you to be cautious, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"And you think you've found that 'something more' here?" you asked, keeping your tone neutral. "With a gang of outlaws and a town full of misfits?"

Yunho's eyes softened as he gazed at you. "We've found more here in a few days than we did in years back East. There's a real sense of purpose, of family. It may not be conventional, but it feels right."

Mingi nodded in agreement. "Plus," he added with a playful smirk, "the company's not bad either."

You felt a blush creep up your neck at his words, but you pushed it down, maintaining your composure. "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, boys. But this isn't an easy life. It's dangerous, unpredictable. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Yunho stepped closer, his eyes locked on yours. "You left the life of comfort, the life of a respected lady to be an outlaw. Surely there must've been moments where you didn't want this life, times where you were scared. But you didn't allow it to get in your way."

Mingi puffed his chest confidently and grinned. "If you could leave that life, then we can too."

"You're right," you said softly, meeting Yunho's intense gaze. "I did leave that life behind. And it wasn't easy. But I've never regretted it, not for a moment."

You paused, looking between Yunho and Mingi. Their earnest expressions tugged at something deep in your chest. 

"This life... it's not for everyone," you continued. "It's hard, and dangerous, and there are days when I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. But then I look at these people, this town we've built together and I know it's worth it."

Yunho stepped forward, his eyes shining with determination. "We want to be part of that. We want to help, in whatever way we can."

Mingi scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "I'm not as strong as you or the rest of your gang. I wouldn't survive as an outlaw. But I could use my skills as a businessman to help this town."

"And I, at the very least, know how to shoot," Yunho added with a determined tone to his voice. "So I can help protect the town when you and your gang aren't here."

You studied them both carefully, weighing their words against your own instincts. Finally, you nodded slowly.

"Okay," you said softly. "But if you're going to stay here, if you're going to become part of this life, I need your word. You'll put the needs of this community ahead of your own. You'll lay your life on the line to protect it, to protect the people who call it home."

Yunho stepped forward, his hand brushing against yours, a spark shooting up your arm at the touch. "I swear. Mingi and I, we've been looking for this place, this feeling... and we aren't letting it slip away."

Mingi licks his lips and looks up with wide, sincere eyes. "I swear as well. I'll protect this town with my last breath if I have to."

His sincerity surprises you. You stand tall and let them come a few steps closer before you move again. This time, you choose to face them and hold their attention. Mingi and Yunho both take deep breaths and widen their gaze as you slowly grab their wrist to check their pulses. The pound and heat rising off them surprises you a little. You smile at them in assurance as you reach to them again to brush a touch over each of their chests. It's hard not to feel the rise and fall as they take slow, deep breaths. "Welcome home."

"Thank you," Yunho says softly.

"I'll let the others know our guests have decided to settle in," you said, noting how the heat from their skin remains long after you move. "You both obviously need a permanent place to stay...unless..."

The slight inflection, the bit of heat in your voice, causes their pupils to dilate a bit.

"Yes?" Mingi murmurs.

"Unless...you'd be open to living with me?" Your heart is hammering. You've been so used to a rough kind of touch that anything a bit soft makes you almost...relaxed.

"Live," Yunho starts. "...with you?"

You can't hold their gaze anymore, eyes shyly trailing off as you laugh to ease the situation. It sounds breathy and unsure, like your body is too full of excitement to allow any of your normal confidence out.

"I mean if not, no big deal!" You assured, letting go of their arms and backing away to create space between you. "If you're happy with a room at the saloo‒"

"No!" Mingi grabs at your wrist, not roughly or meanly, but firmly enough that it gives your stomach a light flutter. His eyes are wide. "I don't. I'm not happy with the room. I like... I like what's on offer here."

You lick your dry bottom lip. "...Yeah?"

He's blushing. Blushing for you. For the first time, his gaze drifts down your front and back to your face. "...yeah. I'm more interested in the lady giving the offer, anyhow."

"Thank you, pretty boy," you manage a low rumble of a chuckle before turning to Yunho. "And you? What do you think, big boy?"

Yunho holds your gaze for a long moment, his dark eyes studying you carefully. He's silent for so long that you start to think he's not going to respond, when suddenly, a smile breaks across his face, warm and genuine and absolutely captivating.

"Yeah," he murmurs softly. "I'd be open to sharing that sort of life with you."

The months began to pass slowly. At times it seemed endless but Hongjoong said that winter would surely roll around soon. At least, you hoped it would. Living in a desert was brutal and hard. But you and your gang made sure to stock up the necessities for the townsfolk in case they were to suffer a shortage. You didn't want anybody dying or suffering at the hand of a lack of resources. Not on your watch.

After striking another deal with the ranchers and the cattlemen to help feed the people in exchange for protection, you'd successfully purchased several extra wagons with livestock, food and medicine. In return, the merchants of the town helped repair damaged furniture or clothing from the group. Some made trinkets and food out of the donations from others in the nearby city.

Yunho sat on the steps of the general store while you stood by his side. It had been a particularly busy week getting the money. You'd raided an abandoned train car with bags full of bills and cash that prior bandits left behind. Most of the money was safe and stored up in the old mine, along with other valuables. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but it was worth it for those in need.

The more the town gained, the less they had to live from day to day. There were more houses being built and trade routes coming in to make the town richer in one way or another. It wasn't perfect but it was a step in the right direction. You'd done the impossible. You'd changed lives.

"You think we should go good at some point?" Yunho asked, rolling the brim of his hat back. "Become some lawmen for our people?"

"Maybe," you mused. "If that's what they need from us. Then yes, maybe we should give it a try."

He hummed. "Imagine if you and the others turned good."

"Hey, the guys would make excellent sheriffs and deputies," you nudged his shoulder with your arm as he laughed.

Mingi emerged from the building to join you two, taking his hat off and waving it to get the sweat off his brow. "Hotter than blazes."

"Stay cool, pretty boy," you patted his cheek. "Don't need you burning up."

"Too late," he countered. "I've been burning from you this whole time."

You snort. "Keep that talk for the bedroom, cowboy."

His smile stretched wider. "Deal."

As time passed, your relationships changed. While nothing official was announced, the whole town seemed to understand what was happening as Yunho and Mingi started to live with you in your homestead. They'd ask about the supplies, what the people needed, and they'd help bring in shipments whenever they could. They both quickly made friends among the townsfolk, and were eager to prove their worth. It made you feel a swell of pride and love to see them fitting in, belonging. They felt a sense of community and it was obvious in the way they held themselves, their posture loosened. The rigidity in their expressions became relaxed and they didn't have to glance at the exits to ensure an exit route. 

This was their home.

Both boys kept your bed nice and warm every night, and spent most days working in the fields, repairing buildings, fixing and patching clothes. Mingi was more adept with numbers and working out trade, Yunho was more in the line of law and justice.

Mingi would write a letter here and there to their extended families back east. Their families seemed thrilled they finally found stability in such a remote area, having lived an extravagant life before and leaving for the opportunity. They hadn't told them the truth, so they hadn't told them you were wanted, dangerous criminals. In their words, you were a town hero and were settling down from your rowdy youth. Which, from what you understood, wasn't too far off the truth, so you just played along. You tried to focus on the positives in life, not the negatives. It was healthy that way.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Yunho asked one night. His broad hands grabbed onto your thighs, gently pulling them apart.

Mingi rested on the pillow and bit his bottom lip as he watched you squirm at Yunho's soft teasing.

You swallow.

"Just...thinking," your face feels hot and you groan softly. "Keep...please..."

Yunho's large hands trailed along the inside of your bare thighs and goosebumps erupted along your skin. His fingers ran in lazy circles around the junction of where your thigh ended and where you really wanted him, tracing maddening paths closer, but not close enough. Your breath hitched as his fingers grazed the sensitive skin and a low, desperate whimper escaped.

Mingi shifted beside you, his large hand caressing the side of your head to watch the way you fell apart between them.

"Look at you," Yunho hums. "Aching for me. For us. Falling to pieces and I haven't even done anything yet."

You open your mouth to protest but it comes out as an undignified moan as his fingers make contact. Yunho chuckled and slipped the tip of a single finger past the tight, wet heat of your entrance, drawing another desperate sound from your lips as he pushed into you and gave you more.

“Think we can make you lose your mind, Y/N?” Yunho asked, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

You struggle to find an answer but all thought flees when another finger enters and scissors you open with a stretch. The way his thumb makes circles near your clit while he does it is agonizing.

You move your hips to get him deeper but he moves to keep the same pattern. Slow, soft strokes with his fingers, enough to drive you insane, and just far enough to deny your orgasm. It was hell, pure torture. Your legs quivered in effort, the build up within growing and growing.

"Y/N, can you be good for us and wait?" Mingi coos to your ear. "Let him enjoy you."

Yunho curls his fingers and begins a slow thrust into you. You're so turned on and desperate, it's almost embarrassing but fuck it, you love this. "So wet," Yunho hums to Mingi. "Just for us."

Mingi hums, hands coming to squeeze at your waist. "We love hearing your cute sounds," he rolls a nipple and presses kisses to your neck. "Let us hear you."

A whimper fell from your lips as your back arched, and you could see the way your stomach dipped at the action.

"I want to see you riding my fingers," Yunho says and grips at the underside of your ass, gently guiding your hips. "I know you've got a nice ass, let me see you use it."

"This isn't a good look for me," You shake your head a little bit, attempting to ignore the heat between your legs as Mingi trails kisses across your shoulder. "Like, not a good angle."

Mingi kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans as Yunho slowly guided you up and down onto his fingers and started a more feverish pace. The sounds were embarrassing. You whined, muffled into Mingi's mouth. He nipped at your lip and tongue, coaxing more from you as your hands clung to his hair.

"No one is here, love," Yunho mutters. "You can make all the pretty noises you want. It's just us here."

"Better hope no one...oh fuck, right there," you gasp.

They both grinned and Yunho stroked faster, your pants grew harder and more unhinged. You were desperate for more, legs quivering. He knew what he was doing with those long, pretty fingers of his, working into you and finding all the right places to drive you insane.

"So wet and ready," Yunho muttered, nipping your thigh and adding a third finger that had your mind swirling. "Do you feel good?"

"Yes!" You practically howled and gripped at Mingi. "Please..."

Mingi nuzzles your jaw and shushes you softly. "Tell him what you need, baby."

You rolled your hips to feel his fingers sink in deeper, each grind drawing out an embarrassing, desperate noise.

"So dirty, the way she's fucking herself," Mingi groans, low and hungry as he squeezes the curves of your waist.

Yunho spreads his fingers inside, opening you up, filling you with each thrust. His gaze is heated and full of dark amusement, taking in your writhing form.

You are so lost in the sensation, lost in the feeling of your blood flowing and moving with each steady thrust, but then he pulls out of you with a smirk and brings his fingers to his mouth with a long drag, licking his fingers clean.

"Can never let a meal go unfinished," he murmured and sank back on his elbows. "All of her." 

He nuzzled his nose against the sensitive skin of your cunt, letting the sensation send sparks up your body, before languidly licking at your folds, his tongue parting you. He moved your legs to rest on his shoulder, allowing better access, and went to work cleaning you. The sudden intensity made you yelp, and as his tongue lavished the folds you became even louder. He added his hands into play and spread you apart with two long fingers, sucking the juices leaking.

You almost feel bad when his face gets absolutely drenched when he really starts going to town, making filthy slurping and sucking sounds that drown out the squelch of his tongue sliding between you. When he closes his eyes in delight and growls with pleasure, you're amazed by how hard it all gets him.

He's literally making the filthiest sounds, getting your arousal and your pussy all over his mouth and jaw, and he loves every minute of it.

"That's so hot," Mingi groans, rubbing his cock. "Baby, can you suck me off while he eats you out? Pretty please?"

He doesn't have to beg much as you take his cock into your hands, pumping him a few times to hear the low groans he lets out. Leaning forward, you suck him deep. He slides down your throat to the base, gagging you. Mingi is just the right size that you can swallow him entirely to the base. His tip tickles the back of your throat and his thighs quiver with every long lick.

The moment his tip touches the back of your throat is the moment his thighs twitch, and you love it. It makes you hungrier.

The feel of his heavy dick, throbbing on your tongue is exhilarating. You never think you'll have enough of him, his thick length and the taste, god, the taste of him always has you wanting more. More.

Yunho can't get enough of the sounds and has a hand gripping the flesh of your hip with bruising pressure as he continues devouring your pussy, tasting every inch. You're squeezing his face with your legs, fucking into his mouth, and Mingi's hands are woven into the hair on the sides of your head and he's now thrusting up to fuck your throat as you go slack, and you could melt completely and be content forever right here between them.

Suddenly Mingi hisses out your name and fucks into the wet warmth of your mouth a few last times, until he can't hold back anymore. He makes a wrecked sound and holds the base of his cock as he's cumming in your mouth, hot and tangy spurts shooting down your throat. It's been a long week, and the sight and feel of him using you like his own personal little cum bucket is the best way to end it, and he moans out your name and sends a happy tingling spark of electricity down your spine. You'd live like this, choking on his cum if you could.

Once he's spent, Mingi helps your head up, his body glistening with sweat from the high, his stomach muscles clenching, and your legs shaking. Mingi has you look at him, taking the messy sheen around your lips and dragging his tongue up to lick into your mouth, cleaning you. It's a sloppy, wet, messy kiss that ends with your stomach tight with pleasure and your muscles aching, and Yunho still has his head between your legs and is making a mess and the most obscene, filthy, wet sounds. The sight of you and Mingi kissing turns him on something fierce, and suddenly, the need for his release overwhelms him.

"Fuck, baby. I need to be in you," Yunho sits upright and drags his mouth up along the underside of your calf, sinking his teeth into the plush of your calf muscles, leaving angry red bite marks in his wake.

"Please," is all you can manage. Your legs are burning from holding themselves apart for his assault, and he is so fucking good at everything he does.

Yunho wipes his glistening, pink stained mouth with a grin, "How do you want me?"

"O-on your back," your throat feels dry and rough.

Yunho licks the leftover taste of you, looking absolutely devious. "Oh? Got some ideas?"

You're already moving to sit atop his thighs, guiding his stiff length along the wet entrance and teasing your clit. He bites his bottom lip and lays back with an appreciative groan. You don't hesitate to take what you need from him, sinking down and pressing him all the way in. Both of you groan at the way his cock throbs and stretches you.

"Need to ride this big boy," you purred. You pressed your hands into his chest and started grinding yourself on him, slow and easy. "Oh fuck, it feels so good."

Mingi rubs his own length to hardness, biting his lower lip as you start a rhythmic movement. He swoops in and presses kisses all across your shoulder blades, muttering softly, his words swallowed by the creak of the bed and Yunho's little gasps, "Love you like this. Fucking yourself on his dick."

It's hot to watch, and it has the two of you swapping a lewd, messy kiss. Your pace is frantic, hands kneading at his toned stomach, desperate for purchase. Yunho grabs hold of your thighs, bouncing you along his thick length. The sounds that escape you are dirty. Wet noises fill the air as he fills you up repeatedly.

"I think Mingi wants to be in you too, love," Yunho's dark eyes glint, and he pants. His handsome face is sweaty, but he doesn't stop thrusting himself up, sinking deeper. "Wouldn't that be good?"

"Yes..." you moaned. You reached out and gripped your asscheeks, spreading yourself wider. "Want to feel you both."

Mingi felt up the soft curve of your ass, appreciating you. His touch trailed, callused hands along the path of your spine and back, gentle. You couldn't help the excited smile on your face as his touch roamed, eyes glowing with love.

Then, Yunho lifted his legs up and sat himself more properly on the bed to watch Mingi position himself. You stopped rolling your hips, waiting for him with baited breath.

Yunho bent his knees, holding you close to his chest so you could enjoy his heartbeat as Mingi began sliding himself in your puckered hole.

"Shit..." Mingi hissed between his teeth.

"Fuck, Mingi," you cursed and buried your face into Yunho's shoulder as he held you up easily by the thighs, angling himself as Mingi pushed all the way in with a shaky, labored breath. The both of you remained motionless, waiting to let your bodies adjust to being so impossibly full.

"Just breathe, sweetheart," Yunho's lips flutter to your shoulder with tenderness and he groans as you shift. The first little roll of his hips is so teasing it drives you mad. He slides slowly back and then fills you again, and then he's rocking up into you at a delicious pace, and it feels so good it's got you whimpering. Mingi matches Yunho's movements and sets the same pace, keeping up a delicious rhythm.

"So, so good. Good girl," Yunho whispers into your ear. His voice was guttural and rich, his breath hitting your hot skin and sending electric waves throughout your body. "Such a good girl taking both of us."

Both are filling you so nicely. Each thrust pushes the breath from your lungs, has you desperately seeking him out again. When they're fucking you like this, there is no reason in the world other than their cocks slamming into you over and over. It feels heavenly; the both of them inside you, together. They fuck you so deep and good it has you squirming, not caring about the way you're drooling and clenching around both lengths, enjoying the stretch. Your legs feel like jelly as their hands roam, playing and exploring, worshiping.

It feels like a blissful eternity filled with nothing but the feel of their skin against yours.

Mingi's tongue trails along the side of your neck, humming with affection and breathlessness. His hands clutch you tightly, possessive, while he's pounding up into you, fucking himself closer to completion. "Fuck, let's switch. My knees are...shit...going..."

Mingi is flipped onto the bed now and you're riding him, just as he had suggested earlier. A grin is etched on his lips, his expression one of lazy bliss as his thumbs caress the sides of your waist. "Ready?"

"Oh yes please," Yunho answers, raring to go. He enters slowly from behind, causing Mingi to grunt and cling to you tighter. "Damn, Mingi stretched you out nice and good baby. Love how she feels."

Your walls convulse and grip them, a loud cry spilling as Mingi moans at the feel of you and Yunho groans, clutching the soft flesh of your rear. Mingi leans back against the wooden headrest, allowing you to fall into him and grip his shoulders. You moan into his mouth, and the kisses become filthy. You're utterly trapped and full and loving the pressure.

They thrust in alternates. One pushes while the other pulls out, and soon you can barely differentiate between them. Just full and full and full. And then you're gasping and moaning and practically fucking screaming their names, not caring in the slightest about the world around you.

"You okay, baby?" Mingi presses kisses against your hairline, fingers smoothing away the droplets of sweat gathering at the nape of your neck. "You can take a break."

"Never...no...no breaks," you gasp out. "Feels so damn good."

Yunho watches intently with half-hooded eyes, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks to keep you apart and spread wide. The rhythm picks up faster, harder and it sends shock waves. Your toes curl. Mingi is sucking, laving, biting at every inch of skin he can get access to, leaving dark marks wherever his mouth touches, hands caressing your back with fondness.

It's so hot, everything from the wet sounds coming from below to the soft whimpers you can't help. It's messy and frenzied. Yunho is pounding into you while you roll your hips frantically against Mingi, feeling the hot pulsating sensations inside, desperate to have both inside as much and as deep as they can. It's electrifying, having Yunho pound up while Mingi pounds into you, a contrast between soft and deep, filling you up until all you can think of are their throbbing lengths and how much your body aches for them.

"Does Mingi feel good?" Yunho's lips nip at your shoulder blade, breath ghosting, tickling you. "His fat cock stuffed in you like that?"

"I‒" your mind is swimming, lips parted and dripping with the pleasure they're wrangling.

"You take us so well," Yunho groaned and increased the intensity, rocking himself into you. You can't speak coherently at the moment with their dicks in you, all you can do is whimper and mewl as you hold onto the last vestiges of your control. Their thrusts get you going, making your tummy light and buzzy. They fill you and the slide is slick with how soaked you are, making their thrusts all the more satisfying.

Their deep groans vibrate. Skin is on skin as their hips connect with a sinful smacking sound, and they fuck up into you and you're starting to shake and Mingi's warm arms and his smile, the way he sucks your bottom lip, his smell, Yunho's grunts, his low murmurs and the way his hands are so good at supporting you and taking care of you, how deep he can thrust—

The heat that washes over you as they cum together is sinfully exhilarating. Warm bursts fill you from both sides. Yunho burrows himself so deep, his hot cum gushing into you, and it fills you up until you're both dripping onto the sheets.

Your head is tucked in the crook of Mingi's throat, sucking on his collarbone when the feeling washes over. A lazy warmth crawls through your body and has you sagging, the pleasure having wrung your muscles dry. The wetness and fullness make the rest of your orgasm a happy mess, and you cry their names over and over, letting your muscles twitch and shiver, and the sensations are a gentle current rocking you and rippling through, washing all stress and thought from your mind.

This, right now, this is all that matters, you think. 

This was all that mattered. Them.

Mingi pulls out with a shaky, breathless exhale and cradles you against him, the cum oozing down and leaking onto the blankets. You've ruined yet another set of sheets.

Yunho gives your pouty lips a long, deep kiss as his body settles beside Mingi's and you. The taste and feel of the kiss is what grounds you. As your racing pulse finally starts to settle down, Yunho looks as if he wants to say something. His features are sharp in the shadows of the lamplight, the orange glow emphasizing the sharp angles of his face.

He's absolutely gorgeous. And so is Mingi, who brushes the sweat-dampened strands off your cheeks and presses sweet, sloppy little smooches and praise all over your temple and cheeks, his smile infectious. They're both so stunning. It leaves your heart beating faster. You want to cup and memorize the plush curves and contours of Mingi's and Yunho's cheeks.

You're a sight to behold, heaped in between both men. It should have felt embarrassing and disgusting to be a mess of a human, lying limply amongst the filth, but the warmth they share leaves you comfortably and fully content. Their hair is disheveled and their sweaty bodies glisten, and they have not a care in the world but to take care of you. Yunho and Mingi whisper words of admiration and praise as their callused, weathered palms and hands rub circles into your thighs. The throb of afterglow has you almost purring in relief.

The moment you try sitting up though, your legs shake and cramp up. You fall with an unceremonious huff back onto the sheets. Mingi laughs loudly and Yunho can't help but snort. He's instantly up to get a cup of water.

"Don't push yourself so hard, sweetheart. Let's get you washed," Mingi peppers little kisses along your cheekbones, voice a little rough as he reaches out and accepts the warm cloth and wash basin from Yunho, getting you cleaned.

"Fuck," your throat feels so parched, it comes out scratchy and hoarse.

Yunho comes in close, kissing you on the lips, chaste and affectionate, "C'mon. Time to rest."

Mingi chuckles in your ear and eases you backwards onto the pillows, getting rid of the dirtied and tousled blankets and stuffing fresh, clean sheets underneath your tired body. Mingi hums and carefully combs away the curls from your eyes, watching you as your vision blurs and softens, sinking into the soft sheets.

"What's got you thinkin' so hard?" Yunho whispered, his fingertips tracing patterns across the sensitive skin of your hip, bringing his other arm around to pull you close, foreheads resting together. "Hm?"

"Nothing," you nuzzle against the cool curve of his neck, burying your face where his pulse is hammering. It calms you down. Yunho's heartbeat. Mingi's light, soft breathing as he starts to drift asleep. Everything is blissful. "Just happy. Really happy. Just how perfect this moment feels."

"Me too," Yunho hums, his voice sleepy and soft and deep as he hugs your waist. Mingi is hugging your torso from behind and the warmth makes you giggle a little with how safe and cozy you feel in their embrace.

The peace lulls you to a deep sleep. You don't have anything else in this world other than them. Mingi, and Yunho, and everything that comes after this blissful peace. All is as it should be and the feeling is perfect.

"Me too," Mingi whispers. "This. You. Us," He nudges his face against the soft curve of your back. "Love this. Love you."

"Mm," you giggled as you kiss the corner of Yunho's mouth lazily. Your eyelids are getting so heavy that you cannot see. A content, comfortable lethargy overtakes your body. "Love you both."

“Love you too,” Yunho finishes softly, his voice barely a whisper as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

[adokyoguen]

hi! I have a req idea - Gojo tearing up when yn kisses his forehead as he’s never felt so vulnerable 🫠

take care :)

Basically, for me, satoru wouldn't cry in front of Y/N because he wants to continue being the strongest for her.

BUUT, that wouldn't stop him from crying over her in hiding 😏

Here it is, I made it short but if you want a continuation please feel free!

Please forgive any mistakes and correct me! I needed the translator's help several times. :((

Your eyes slowly opened so that you could adjust to the brightness of the room. You felt sore, several parts of your body including your abdomen and forehead were bandaged.

But... what really happened?

Oh, right, you and the second-year students had just fought Suguru, everyone was completely destroyed, and that included you. Sure, Gojo arrived late, but he was able to end Suguru's life. When he found you, you were lying on the floor, completely injured, as were Panda, Inumaki and Maki.

Taking you all to the infirmary was a difficult job, even more so when you were so fragile that Satoru thought he would break you if he held you wrong.

You were one of the first to receive treatment from Shoko, your bleeding was internal, but thank God you were fine.

When you had stabilized and woken up, you looked to the side, finding flowers and a letter written on the dresser;

"If you're reading this, you probably woke up without me. I'm currently solving the problems with Sukuna's vessel, so I'll be back soon to see you.

Take care :)

Note: I left a chocolate hidden for you inside your pillow.

Satoru Gojo. ♡"

You smiled as you read the letter and decided to sleep a little longer to recover until he came back.

23:43 PM

When it was night, you woke up with the infirmary door opening and footsteps walking to your stretcher. And there he was, with that arrogant smile as always.

— Oh princess, are you finally awake? — He says, sitting on the chair next to your bed.

— If my eyes are open, I probably woke up. — Tsk... so ignorant... — Satoru laughs, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger. — So... how do you feel?

— Huh... well? I can't say, my body hurts but at the same time I feel quite energetic. — You say and he smiles.

— Well, it's to be expected, you were unconscious for 4 days.

— Wait... What?

— Yes, Shoko said you lost a lot of blood, you had several internal hemorrhages. You swallowed hard.

— And Suguru...? — You didn't want to ask that. Not when he was the one who hurt you so much. But gosh... you cared so much about him... you didn't have the courage to kill him and he took advantage of that.

— I killed him. — He says, without any joking tone in his voice. Had his efforts been in vain? You were so distracted by your thoughts that you barely noticed Satoru's voice stuck in his throat, but either way, he didn't want you to notice that.

— I... I'm sorry Toru...

— Nah, it's okay. — He says smiling, you knew he wasn't completely okay. Suguru was the only best friend Gojo had in his entire life, and now, he had been killed by himself, but of course, it was Satoru Gojo, he was always "fine". — I'll let you rest a little, I need to go after Director Yaga.

— Okay... — You answer as you watch him get up.

— See you later, princess.

— Wait!— You shout, grabbing the man's wrist and pulling him closer. With a quick movement, you place a long kiss on his forehead and whisper. — You're the strongest Satoru, but you're still human, remember that for me, okay?

Satoru was surprised, but with his bandage over his eyes, you could barely notice. He smiled, nodding.

— Good night, princess. — He places a loving kiss on your forehead, as a way of thanking you and leaves the infirmary.

You didn't know, but when he left the infirmary, he removed his blindfold to wipe the tears he shed.

Maybe today you won't see him cry, but who knows one day?

[fatphobiabusters]

Hey, I wanted to ask if you maybe have any book recs about nutrition that aren't steeped in fatphobia? my friend is trying to learn more about nutrition and change her eating habits, and i want to give her a gift

We spoke separately on this, sorry for the late reply but I can now officially recommend a book for your friends next birthday!

Gentle Nutrition: A Non-Diet Approach to Healthy Eating

Absolutely 10/10 would recommend. It's from a registered dietician, has plenty of sources!

I can't summerize or even list all the topics covered. Here's just a sample:

Introducing intuitive eating, recognizing diet culture, the thinness obsession, the types of hunger we feel, what factors actually contribute to health, diet cycling, hunger cues, why BMI is BS, how to make small changes gradually, the effects of weight stigma and stress on the body.

And so much more.

It introduces so many concepts and issues we touch on here on the blog and questions people have about health and some fat issues. (Not every single issuse but it does tackle the health based fatphobic arguments just by the process of tearing down diet culture. Even mentions medical neglect/fatphobia. Other literature is out there on the full scope of fatphobia and its harms.)

I'm particularly interested in this section. I'm delighted by graphs and then the explanations for them!

Theres so much I want to directly beam into people. My primary complaint is I wish there was MORE advice for people with body cue reading problems. There is some advice but more would be nice.

I also appreciated this:

Im someone who has good textures and bad textures (mild compared to some) but ask me which ones and I'd be stumped because I tell you dishes I like but otherwise ??? So this helps me think.

While flipping through it I keep finding more things to gush about this really is such a good starting point because it will touch on so many weight and diet culture topics.

This is disjointed because this book covers so much I want to try and encourage peopleto check it out but my brain go Brrrr from excitement. It's not perfect, nothing can be but it's just so nice to have a book I can recommend that covers both what you want and doesn't shy away from the complex web of diet culture. It tries to met a new reader where they are and I just Brrrrr. You know?

-mod squirrel

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

It all started on a Sunday. 

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed. 

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you. 

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.” 

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now” 

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you. 

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“Just…me” 

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (03/10)

Against the Tide

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: at Crown's family tensions rise and you keep running into a person you shouldn't talk to. but both he and you can't help testing the waters.

words: 9.3k

thank you to @peachysunrize for being my beta reader, she also helped me in the previous chapter and I forgot to mention her, but finally here she is. love you bestie!❤

previous part • series masterlist

I am so excited for you to read this chapter! from the next chapters onwards, what we have been waiting for begins (forbidden love)🤭 and I want to thank you once again for all the support you are giving to the story, you guys are amazing and you don't know how much I appreciate it🙏🏻 now enjoy!

warnings: half smut, language.

Sunset's Pier stretches along the boardwalk, a vibrant and lively place, especially on summer evenings.

In the distance, waves break gently against the pier and shore pillars, while palm trees sway in the cool ocean breeze.

Wooden planks creak under the feet of visitors, while the smell of the sea and freshly made food fills the air. 

The stores lining the pier are clearly divided, some full of luxury, with glittering windows displaying designer dresses and accessories. And there are other more modest stores, where prices are more affordable.

Or as it would be technically said among the locals of Sunset's: stores for the rich and stores for the poor.

After an exhausting afternoon trying to surf with the boys, Alysanne drags you into the stores, excited to find something nice for tonight's party.

The two of you walk between shop windows, exploring the options, especially in the stores where you can both afford to shop. But Alysanne stops in front of one of the more expensive stores. 

You watch as she gawks at a blue bikini on display on the mannequin, the color as deep as the ocean at sunset.

"Look at this!" she exclaims excitedly, almost pressing her face against the glass, "It would be perfect for tonight's party. If only I had the money to buy it," she murmurs between excited and disappointed.

You smile, understanding the desire. The bikini is really beautiful but it is obvious that the price must be very high.

"Don't you have any savings?" you ask her.

"No," she laments, "I used it to fix my phone, did you forget? I can't afford to buy a new one so I have to fix the one I already have."

"Well, I guess I—

A high-pitched laugh interrupts the conversation and when you both turn around, you instantly recognize the people.

Perfectly coiffed black hair and shiny red hair. All those impeccably dressed girls, with expensive handbags, gold accessories and designer sunglasses; Baratheon and Lannister.

But you distinguish precisely Floris Baratheon, Aemond's girlfriend.

All of them in a group watch you both with a mocking face for two things; for being in front of a store like this and for being longing for the beautiful blue bikini.

And even though they don't know you, it doesn't matter that they bother you for the radar of recognizing poor people, because the difference between you and Alysanne is too big compared to them, who can afford to shop here.

Especially since the top you are wearing at the moment is torn on one side. You don't see much but they've already seen it, as well as inspecting your dirty, old tennis shoes.

"Do you really think you can buy anything here?" speaks precisely Floris with a venomous tone, with a sneer as he looks at the bikini and then at both of you, "It's a shame you can only look. Not everyone has the privilege of affording something so nice."

"Yeah, maybe someday you can get it... in the next millennium sales."

They laugh among themselves, clearly enjoying the moment of superiority. And you clench your jaw, annoyed, especially as you watch Alysanne lower her gaze in humiliation.

"Excuse me, do we know you?" you inquire.

You obviously know them, but you won't indulge them.

"Oh dear, everyone here knows us, especially me," Floris says superiorly, adjusting her sunglasses.

"Even your kind know who we are," Cerelle also speaks with clear contempt.

Alysanne regains her composure and you instantly notice.

"Yes, we know you are such a bunch of idiotic, shallow people for thinking that the price of clothing defines someone."

"Some of us have more important things in life than spending money on something so insignificant," you too stand up for yourself and your people.

They all let out a laugh, where Floris takes a step toward you.

“Yeah, sure. The poor always find an excuse to justify their misery. How pathetic and sad," she feigns an exaggerated pout.

"I'd rather be poor than be as empty as you," Alysanne next to you snaps at her.

She arches an eyebrow at her, amused and clearly entertained, as she folds her arms in her arrogant attitude.

"Empty, huh? Well, it's better to be empty than desperate, like you two. Keep dreaming of things you can never have. But don't worry, being poor and living on the filthy side of town, dreaming is free."

"And who do you think you are huh?" Alysanne lunges at her, "You think because you are rich I can't break your face or what?"

You quickly stop her holding her by the arm, worried and of course, Floris recoils back with a frightened face and her friends don't take long to instantly surround her, shielding her as if they were her wall of protection.

"Not so talkative and brave now huh!?"

"Hey, Aly," you hold her back, "Stop it. It's not worth it."

Floris and all of them look at you both with despise.

"See? They're all savages," she says without again getting too close.

"Oh yes, very savage, just because we're defending ourselves from you making fun of us and making us less," Alysanne tells her firmly and in a defiant tone, "But you can't even defend yourself. So I advise you to talk less or I'll break that pretty rich girl face of yours."

It is clear that Floris wants to say more mean words, but she stops when she notices someone else walking towards the group, completely oblivious to the situation and you also recognize this person; Helaena Targaryen.

She with her usual calm, appears near you, but stops just in front of another nearby store, casually observing a clothing through the glass without noticing the tensions.

And you curiously notice how Floris, upon seeing her, remains silent for a moment. Then you guess that she doesn't want to show her true colors in front of her sister-in-law.

"Let's go," she orders in a lower and less confident tone than before.

Her friends obey without another word and begin to walk away, but not before giving your cousin a last contemptuous and disdainful glance at your side.

And you too, of course.

Helaena also leaves with them as they approach her, her silver hair shining in the sunlight and moving with impeccable grace.

Alysanne lets out a frustrated sigh next to you, still angry. 

"I can't believe those idiots think they have the right to treat us like this. And all because of what? For not being rich like them?" she inquires in disbelief, "Do you realize how stupid that is?"

"Let them stay in their bubble," you mutter, feeling just as irritated, "We're not rich but we're better people than they are."

Alysanne takes a deep breath, shaking off the adrenaline of the moment, then you both go your own way, trying not to let this thing that happened ruin your day.

Especially since you have another party tonight, unfortunately with those girls, but it's not like you're going to be with them.

And just as ten o'clock at night falls, Cregan's car and the excited shouts of the guys rushing you to get into the car can be heard practically all over the street.

Alysanne again shushes them, as your uncle and aunt are asleep, as well as most likely the neighbors, and you both quickly get into the car amidst laughter and scolding of the guys.

Then Cregan's car speeds up and soon all of you are walking into the Crown's side.

The party is as always; on the beach. And it's everything you'd expect being among the rich. The DJ can't miss, the clean beach, the pier, the yachts and the smell of alcohol mixed with the sea breeze, among other substances.

Tonight you decide not to focus on the people around you and together with the guys, sit on the white sand, while Cregan and Sam go for as many beers and bottles of champagne as possible.

Alysanne is also not in the mood to be inspecting and lusting after Pandora accessories on all the rich girls that are here. So the two of you relax.

Chase lights the bonfire in the center and pretty soon everyone is drinking, talking and laughing, enjoying the party and nothing else.

Every now and then some guys come up to greet Cregan, who greets them back without much enthusiasm and returns to the group, where you notice how attentive he is especially to Alysanne.

You don't say anything and just continue drinking, laughing at the guys' jokes and burning a few marshmallows, when then... you feel it.

A piercing look on your face.

You don't doubt it's a girl inspecting you, so you don't think anything of it at first. But then... it's as if that look burns you and wants to see through you, sending shivers through your whole body.

You look around, just out of curiosity, but when you raise your gaze absentmindedly towards the direction of the yachts, to the part of the deck specifically, your eyes meet piercing blue eyes.

Then you see him.

Aemond Targaryen.

Time seems to stand still and you feel more of the weight of his gaze, that same weight you felt last night on the pier, when he caught you.

You also feel a surge of nerves course through your body, with your heart racing as you remember the night before. It's not fear, but it's something close to it. 

Because now he's caught you here too, at a party of his people, at Crown's.

And the weird thing is that you didn't expect it and you feel so silly about the fact. How could you not think that he would be here and that the two of you would probably see each other after last night?

Even though it's no longer a probability, he's seeing you right now and sees what you're doing; pretending to be one of them.

You watch as his gaze briefly sweeps over the guys you're with and honestly... you don't know how to feel about it. Technically, you're not doing anything wrong here either, are you?

‘Then why do you feel so embarrassed?’

His piercing eye again focuses on you and you, for some strange reason, don't look away and neither does he. It's as if the two of you are caught in a game you can't avoid. 

No one seems to notice the silent exchange between the two of you, except you and him. But you know that talking to him, getting close to him in public, is impossible.

You know it and you know he knows it too. It's like a law in Sunset's among its locals but more specifically among those your age; the rich and the poor can't be friends.

You bite the inside of your cheek, even without both of you looking away, where both of you are too far away to say anything to each other, but the looks say it all.

Then, it is he who looks away when Floris holds his face and kisses him softly on the lips, claiming his attention. You feel a sting of something pinch your stomach and you force yourself to stop focusing on him as well.

You try to refocus on what the guys around you are saying, but you can't, not now that he's here too.

You didn't tell anyone about what happened last night with him on his pier, because nothing really bad happened, except the fact that you almost got caught.

It was just a conversation with the son of the richest man in the whole country and heir to his fortune, nothing more. 

Although the memory has followed you ever since.

Unable to help yourself, you look at him again, where you see him surrounded by his friends and also distinguish his brother, Aegon. And of course, Floris, sitting on his lap.

He is no longer watching you but you wonder what he might be thinking now that he has seen you here too.

'Probably nothing.'

You think, since for him, what happened on the pier was just a conversation, a small slip in which you both sought some solace and nothing more, an insignificant moment.

What else could he think of having shared his time with a Black Waves girl? 

You let out a long breath and your eyes roam his features, as the same thoughts from last night return to your mind when you were also slyly admiring him.

'He is so handsome.'

You think as you also admire his short silver hair and see a silver chain peeking out from between the collar part of his shirt, with that simple accessory making him look so ridiculously good.

But you cannot pass Floris Baratheon unnoticed, on his lap, talking to him and leaving from time to time some kisses on his lips or on his cheek.

You shake your head, clearly being impossible, since he belongs to a world that is not yours, to a social class that would see you as an intruder if you even tried to approach.

So you can only think that what happened on the pier was just a one-time thing, a quirk and a moment that you must now bury in oblivion.

Aemond Targaryen, as a child, does not remember a single moment when his family did not attract attention.

He does not remember a single moment where his mother did not ask him, as well as his siblings, to accompany her and his father to an event in the town for work and simply to see them all together as a perfect and powerful family.

He has forgotten the countless times where his father, Viserys, introduces him and his siblings to his associates and all those important people more as trophies than as what they really are; his children.

With Aegon the introduction is brief, for after all, no one expected his first eldest son not to follow in his same footsteps as his older first daughter did, Rhaenyra.

But Aemond knows that Aegon is... uncontrollable. 

As a teenager he began to show signs that he didn't want to go into business or anything like it or anything relatively formal. 

As much as his mother, Alicent, and even his own father and grandfather Otto tried to scold, persuade and convince him, it only caused Aegon to back away from the idea and start doing whatever he pleased.

For him only desire has always been to simply live life and find out what he really wants.

Then there is Helaena, who followed the same path as Aegon but in a more controlled way and with different aspirations to life though just as flattering, which is to study marine biology.

And finally there is him, Aemond Targaryen.

He saw the whole process of his older brothers in deciding not to devote himself to the business or rather empire that his father has built. With Aegon it all turned out to be a disaster but Helaena was more persuasive.

So someone had to do it, follow in his father's footsteps as Rhaenyra did, but this time a man, a son and that had to be him.

Daeron still lacked time to decide and grow up some more. So he watched as his father began to despair and have fights with his mother and everyone at home for not being able to choose the aspirations and decisions of his children.

So it was he who calmed the storm at home when he announced that he would apply to college to study business management to carry on the Targaryen legacy, just like Rhaenyra.

His father was overjoyed, as was his mother and for the first time, in that small moment, Aemond felt that he was finally receiving that recognition and appreciation from him.

But then he realized that it was never worth it.

After searching for so long for a way for his father to finally see him for what he is, his son, when that moment came it wasn't worth it and it didn't make him feel any better.

Because Aemond knows deep down that only his father was happy for him out of convenience, to mold him to how he wants and because that way, he is just another piece on his board.

And it became quite clear to him the moment his father expressed his idea about the Baratheon's.

Viserys, even with all he has and having an advisor at his side like his grandfather Otto, wants more.

And Borros Baratheon is that more by being the owner of the most important commercial fleet operating along the entire Pacific coast of all. Viserys needs to transport freight for its big company, which is what Borros does.

Viserys needs freight for his great enterprise, which is what Borros is all about. But Borros Baratheon is a difficult and greedy man who also wants more, even to Viserys Targaryen himself.

So he and his entire team focus on an easier target that will get him to the finish line; his daughter, Floris.

Any of his daughters would have sufficed, but considering Floris is about the same age as Aemond and his father had already seen her get her hopes up for him at events, it was the perfect idea.

At first Aemond refused. For the moment he had no intention with any girl, especially any of the Baratheon sister’s. But his father insisted.

Viserys explained to him how much he needed such a partnership and asked him to start asking her out to eventually formalize and make the deal with his father easier.

Aemond tried to help him find other alternatives, tried to make him understand that he didn't want nor could he play with Floris' feelings in that way to achieve a partnership.

But none of that helped.

His mother sided with his father, with the difference that she was more sensible on the subject and asked him to try and take the time to get to know her, that maybe he might really like her.

So he had to give in and before long, he was in a formal relationship with Floris Baratheon.

And now this is his life.

Not that much has changed, but there are these fights at home between her mother and father because there's really no love between them. 

There's also fighting between his father and his siblings over the choice of what they really want to do with their lives while they're all attending events to pretend to be this perfect family that they are.

And he's in a relationship with a person he doesn't really want to be with and as soon as the summer is over, he's going off to college to study with pressure and expectations on his shoulders for a degree he doesn't really want to study.

But as anyone in Sunset's would think, both Crown's and Black Waves; the Targaryens are perfect.

“Hey.”

A voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks up as he sees Aegon approaching him, shorts on, sandals, a white t-shirt, sunglasses and phone in hand.

"I was looking all over for you. What are you doing?"

He lets out a long breath and closes his book to place it back on the shelf.

"What do you want?"

"Get dressed. We have a party tonight," he lets him know, then starts typing on his phone.

"Another one?" he asks with a serious look on his face.

"What?" he becomes indignant, shrugging, "Come on, it's summer. And everyone will be there. Cassandra told me Floris is going."

"I don't want to go."

He looks at him with a frown.

"What are you talking about?" he asks him blankly, "You're going to stay here reading these stupid books all summer? You're going to college for another two months!"

"Helaena and Daeron will go with you, I don't understand why you want me to go too," he tells him grumpily, choosing another of the many books in the library.

"Helaena is sick and Daeron promised to stay with her to watch movies," he tells him as if were the gravest sins in the world, "Come on, man. Come with me. And I won't ask you for anything again, this will be the last time, I promise."

"That's what you always say, like I don't know you," he says as he picks up a book and sets it on the table, "You're just so fucking annoying."

Aegon lets out a frustrated groan.

"Come on, don't be like that. You'll have more time to read and be doing these boring things you like to do," he tries to convince him, pointing to the books.

But Aemond says nothing to him and, of course, Aegon starts to throw his tantrum.

"Aemond," he complains, "Come on, please."

And the sound of his voice is already starting to annoy him, especially being in the library.

“Aegon—

"Come on," he interrupts him, insistent, "I really don't want to stay here and listen to dad yelling and fighting with mom all night, man." 

Aemond lets out a long breath again and with nonchalant movements watches his brother over his shoulder, looking serious and now slowly becoming resigned.

And soon enough, they are both already in his car, driving towards the Lannister house.

Normally he wouldn't have agreed to come, but he recognizes that Aegon is right and the truth is that he doesn't want to stay at home listening to his parents' quarrels either.

Even though his house is huge, the shouting echoes through the halls, and then his father in all his anger goes against Aegon as well, where Helaena intervenes, then Daeron and finally him to try to calm the waters.

And he's tired of it.

Just last night another one of those fights happened, his mother was almost in tears and Helaena too, while Aegon and his father were shouting all the worst things possible at each other.

And that's why he decided to go to the pier after he failed to fall asleep.

As he drives, his gaze softens as he remembers you. 

He still doesn't understand how a girl like you, from Black Waves, for a whole year was going to his family's pier at midnight without being discovered. 

He doesn't understand how you did it either and he's not sure he wants to know. He was about to call security, of that he has no doubt, especially considering the robberies some of his neighbors suffered. 

Because that's what he first thought, that you were a thief and he was trying to do something with his yacht.

However, it was something in your fear and pleading, perhaps also that you didn't have something suspicious on hand to try to do harm and the sincerity in your gaze after silently evaluate you that he saw to finally understand that you weren't doing anything wrong.

It was bad to cross over private property but other than that, he saw you earlier, before he approached from a distance, sitting on the edge of the pier looking out over the horizon.

But he still had to make sure and it all turned out very interesting.

That you were on his pier, risking that you could be caught, simply because that place gives you peace and quiet, caught his attention.

It seemed... unusual. Something out of the ordinary. Maybe because you're a Black Waves girl.

But still, it's something he's not used to hearing from others in appreciating something so simple and plain but so meaningful to that person.

And being there with you... everything in his mind disappeared.

All his excessive thoughts, frustrations, pressures, expectations and stress disappeared for a moment, which is very difficult for him to do in the midst of all the storm in his mind.

And strangely, because he shouldn't have, he spent a nice time with you, an unknown Black Waves girl, even if he didn't show it much at the time.

He doubts that was a good idea, to let you stay and still tell you that you can keep going to thepier. But technically... nothing bad happened.

And doubt that I'll ever see you again, last night was just a coincidence, besides that shouldn't happen, right?

In the town where you both live, a poor girl and a rich man can't even be friends. And much less he can afford something like that because of his family name.

Again his thoughts are interrupted as they enter the area where the Lannisters live and Aegon immediately chatter excitedly about how amazing the party looks.

And soon enough the two find themselves walking onto the beach and onto the Lannister dock.

It's the same as always, there's really nothing new, just decorations, DJ, open bar with bottles of vodka, wine and champagne as well as beer, cocktails and the smell of cigarettes and weed in the salty air.

All the people are dancing and getting drunk, as well as there are other people having mini bonfires, drinking and burning marshmallows.

When a group of people catches Aegon's eye on one of the yachts, he takes no time at all to drag him along with him.

And just like that he meets Floris, who greets him very happily with a hug and a kiss on his lips, which he tries to reciprocate as genuinely as possible.

Aegon goes off to find a girl to stick his tongue down her throat and he stays on the yacht with Floris and his friends. 

Quickly some of his friends offer him drinks to cheer him up and he declines as he has to drive, so he only chooses to light a cigarette, wanting the night to pass quickly.

And so the hours pass, with nothing really interesting going on around him and Floris sitting on his lap, trying to keep up with her to also try to be a good boyfriend.

But all he wants to do is go home.

"Are you okay?"

Floris' voice brings him out of his thoughts and he turns his head towards her, where she watches him with a small smile on her lips and with one of her hands starting to stroke his short silver hair.

"Yeah," he tells her in a low murmur, then takes another sip from the only bottle of beer he'll be drinking tonight.

"Are you sure? I didn't even know you were coming. I texted you and you didn't respond," she says making a pout.

And he avoids looking instantly annoyed.

It's not that Floris is a bad girl, she really tries because she really loves him. But he doesn't feel the same and doubts he ever will, though he tries.

"Yeah, you're right, sorry, I was busy in the library," he explains briefly.

"At the library?" she repeats confused, "Why?"

"I'm getting a head start on reading books for college," he again explains as briefly as possible.

Luckily she doesn't say anything more on the subject but continues to sit on his lap and try to get him to talk, even though he's not really having any of that right now but he doesn't want to be rude to her either.

So when she starts talking to one of her friends, he looks in all directions, scanning the party without again finding anything interesting.

But then in the midst of analysis he sees it.

Or rather he sees you.

A few meters below him on the sand, confused, he immediately recognizes you, sitting among a group of guys and a girl with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing and talking to all of them.

And again he wonders; what are you doing here?

And you can't blame him, he really doesn't get it, it was surprising enough seeing you on his pier, in the most exclusive and private area of all Crown's as to also see you here, on the Lannister's pier, a Black Waves girl mixed up as if you were one of them.

He sweeps his gaze over all the guys you're with and is more surprised to see you talking and laughing with Cregan Stark.

Then he gets it all.

He's the one who gives you access, as well as your friends and that girl you're with, who he assumes must be your cousin from what you told him last night, all except Cregan belonging to Black Waves.

And there you are, again not hurting anybody, but pretending to belong to Crown's.

All the guys you're with are certainly having a great time and so are you, while he again focuses on Cregan, from whom he honestly expected it.

He doesn't include himself much with the guys from his part of town, sometimes he talks to him or Helaena, but nothing more. Now he knows why.

And somehow he can't take his eye off you.

He watches you curiously, analyzing you, seeing that you have guts, just like your cousin and your friends, to take risks like this.

At any moment anyone could expose you if they watch you too much, but you don't seem to care about that, nor do the others.

And then, his gaze meets yours.

He sees you freeze for a moment, as if you are once again trapped by him, which actually you are and he, for some reason, doesn't look away and neither do you.

Memories of last night invade him again and he can guess how you must be thinking about it too.

But he can also guess how you again feel exposed and how terribly nervous you must feel. As if you are afraid that he, now that he has seen you here too, will expose you once and for all.

But it is as if it were a game of stares, as neither of them look away from each other. It's not as if they can talk, the distance is too much, also considering that he is on top of a yacht. 

But what if this were not the case? Would the two of you talk?

Aemond knows perfectly well that they wouldn't.

"Hey, did you hear what I said, babe?"

Floris makes him turn his gaze away from you to focus on her as he feels her turn from his cheek with her hand towards her to plant a soft kiss on his lips, wanting his full attention.

And he awkwardly reciprocates as his attention is still on you.

But he forces himself to take that attention away from you, especially as he still has Floris sitting on his lap with both arms around his neck, glued to him.

And it's here that he assumes, as you do, though he doesn't know it, that what happened last night was just a one-time thing, two people seeking refuge from the world on the pier one night.

But that's all.

The two of you must not know each other, you can't talk or be seen together, mostly because of different social classes, which leads to pretending that the two of you don't know each other and haven't spoken to each other even once.

And what happened that night, on the pier, didn't happen.

A pile of dishes are placed in front of him on the table in the huge back garden of his house which is basically on the shore of the beach, having a spectacular view of the ocean, the beach, the pier, the cliffs around and also the huge houses of his neighbors.

His mother thanks the cooks, who retire and leave his mother, father and him alone.

Aegon must still be asleep, Daeron too because he probably stayed up watching movies with Helaena all nigth who is still very ill. So he is the only one who joins the breakfast.

He looks carefully at a message from Rhaenyra, which is accompanied by two PDF books.

'These books helped me a lot when I first started studying, you can read them if you want to before you go to uni so you have an idea of everything you will learn.'

Aemond reviews both books, both over 400 pages, being very dense material and being exactly what awaits him at college, but he also knows it's important.

He runs a hand down his neck and responds to her text.

'Thank you, Rhae.'

Ever since his older sister knew he would be going into business as well, she's been supporting him. 

It's not like from the beginning the two of them had a good relationship, especially since she's the daughter of their father's first wife and there was no first-rate bond, neither with him nor with her other siblings.

But now that she has a family and he has matured enough, at least more than Aegon, that relationship has slowly begun to be forged and maintained.

Besides he is grateful to receive genuine support. Especially from her, already an expert on the subject and with whom he will probably lead the Targaryen empire in the future.

"Are you going to have breakfast, son?"

His mother's soft voice causes him to look away from his phone screen and set it aside, having no interest in responding to messages from Floris or a few of his friends who were with him last night at the party.

"Yeah, sorry."

He tries to catch up with their pace, making himself his cup of coffee the way he likes it.

"Rhaenyra tells me you're planning to take a management course in the middle of summer, son," his father says, catching his attention, "Is that true?"

And he doesn't ask it in a bad way, on the contrary, it surprises Aemond to see how he has pride in his eyes. 

"Yeah, well... I think they'll do me good before I go to college."

"Yes, very good idea," Alicent says, watching him proudly as she notices all his dedication to his study, as it has always been.

"Oh yes, of course," Viserys agrees, without hesitation, "Have you found the right course yet?"

"I'm still working on it."

"But..." he frowns slightly, watching him not entirely convinced, "How are things going with that girl... uh... Floris?"

He immediately feels an uncomfortable sensation in his lower abdomen, stirring in his chair as he runs a hand over the back of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to maintain a normal appearance.

"Good," he replies briefly, without looking at him, "Everything's fine."

"Yeah?" he asks seeing his reaction, "You've been hanging out with her?"

"We were together last night," he says without wanting to go into details, wanting to get that topic over with.

And Alicent also sees how his son is starting to react.

"Floris usually comes in often during the day," she tells her husband in a soft tone with a cup of coffee in her hands, "You don't see her because you're at work."

"Well, that's good to know," he says pleased, though not entirely satisfied, turning his focus back to him, "I fully support the idea of the course, it will definitely do you good but... you can't neglect that girl. Your relationship with her is very advantageous to the company and very soon her father and I will start having meetings."

He brings a hand to the back of his neck again, staring at a fixed point on the table as he presses his lips together, controlling his emotions and what he really wants to say to him.

His mother stares at him, alert, not wanting him and his father to have fights too. But it is clear that he too is already reaching his limit.

However, Aemond knows that he has more self-control, besides he's already into all of this, so he has no choice but to accept, again, what his father tells him. 

"Is that what you want me to do?" he asks him in a low tone, honestly feeling tired.

"Of course," his father states sternly, as if it were obvious, "We must have all the most suitable people possible in the company. And the Baratheon's are crucial to our expansion."

Aemond looks up, but says nothing, because he already knows the speech. The Baratheon's, power, family and company.

"Yes but that really isn't the most important thing," his mother interjects again, "After all, Floris is a very nice and pretty girl. I can tell she really cares about you, son."

He can't help but purse his lips at that comment. He knows Floris isn't a bad girl but she's not exactly nice either. And that doesn't change the fact that he's not interested in her. 

"Yes and for that very reason you must not ruin things with her," his father insists, "We have to partner with her father and you can't let her slip through your fingers."

"Viserys," his mother calls out to him with mild reproach.

"You know how important this is, Alicent," he begins to say with reproach in his tone, "I have already lost hope in Aegon. It seems he will never change and will be a good-for-nothing for the rest of his life, taking nothing seriously."

"Don't talk about your son like that," his mother scolds him.

"I'm not going to live forever and someone has to take over the company and support this family. But that doesn't matter to him in the least," he continues, "Daeron is still young and I'm thankful that at least Aemond has taken the same direction as Rhaenyra and me."

Aemond says nothing as his mother continues to reproach, annoyed to hear how Viserys refers to her children, especially Aegon. 

And he remains silent, fed up with these discussions, family pressures, expectations and being the only one of his children whom his father seems to trust.

And the worst thing is that he can't say anything, because he knows very well that his father considers him as his last resort and in a way... he doesn't want to fail him and he doesn't want everything in his family to explode.

Even if it means he has to sacrifice his own life for the good of the family, he has to do this and it's not worth arguing with his father because it's no use and he's not going to change his mind.

His father starts to raise his voice, his mother too and he ends up going to his room with his morning already ruined, annoyed, tired and grumpy.

And when he tries to distract himself, to occupy himself with his own personal matters so as not to think too much, just at that moment Floris comes to visit.

Just now he doesn't have the capacity to want to be around her, or anyone in general, he just wants peace and quiet, but considering the conversation he had with his father, he is not able to ask her as nicely as possible to come another day.

"I was with Cerelle at my house but I got too bored, even though I told her to meet me tonight at the beach."

She begins to talk as she starts pacing all around his room he just sits there with his desk in front of him and a few books open.

"I also talked to Royce, he said he would be coming for a visit soon. My dad is still mad at him for leaving but I'm sure he'll get over it. I also heard that Jeyne wants to have a party the next week and..."

And so he listens to her voice continuously, talking about everything she did and didn't do in her day, while he puts a hand to his forehead and lets out a long breath, trying not to sound irritated.

"Oh and I went to the mall with Cerelle. I bought a beautiful bag and clothes for our trip to Hawaii," she says excitedly, "My dad has already arranged everything and my family is so excited for you to come with us. I'm also..."

Her voice slowly fades slowly, becoming a distant murmur, as he sinks deeper into his seat and stares at a spot in his room.

His brow furrows and his mind drifts further away from the conversation.

He can't find a way to tell her to stop talking without looking rude and frustrated, but the last thing he wants to do is listen to her right now and the last thing he wanted was for her to show up at his house this day.

He has enough going on in his family lately, especially with his father and he's not in the mood to be dealing with people right now. 

He's fed up with everything and all he wants is to be alone while a wave of mental exhaustion washes over him. He wants to get away from everyone for a moment, to have no one bother him so he can have peace and quiet. 

"Aemond."

The hand on his shoulder and the voice so close to him brings him back to reality. He blinks and raises his gaze to Floris, who watches him in confusion.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," he says awkwardly and clears his throat, "Sorry," he says, turning his gaze to the front and stirring in his chair.

But she raises her hand towards him, placing it gently on his cheek and Aemond tenses immediately, as she forces him to look at her again gently but firmly enough.

"Are you sure? Are you okay?" she asks him genuinely concerned, "You didn't seem to be listening to me."

"Yes I was and I'm fine, don't worry," he tells her trying to sound convincing.

But Floris is having none of it.

"Is it because of your father or college?"

The silence that follows is palpable as he averts his gaze and removes his hand from her face with a nonchalant gesture. He says nothing but it's clear she's hit the nail on the head.

And Floris lets out a long, resigned sigh, already expecting that. For it is so typical of him not to confide his thoughts and feelings to her.

She's tired of her own boyfriend raising this constant wall between the two of them, where he doesn't want to open up to her. It hasn't been long since the two started dating but still, despite being a couple, there is no trust.

"Aemond," she murmurs his name softly and unexpectedly takes a seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Floris," he calls her name awkwardly as well, trying to shake her off, "Wait, I don't—

"You know you can talk to me about anything," she interrupts him, her tone insistent but with a gentleness that she hopes will soften the situation, "I mean...I'm your girlfriend and I'm here for you whenever you need something, talk or anything."

He lets out a long sigh, feeling the weight of her insistence and the firmness with which she remains sitting on him.

The feeling of oppression invades him, both physically and emotionally.

"It's not... I don't..." he tries to speak, "Look, it's not that I don't want to tell you, but..." he gets frustrated, not finding the words or even the will to talk to her, "It's a lot of things."

"You can tell me," she insists, "Come on, babe. I just want to help you," she says as she begins to stroke his hair.

He close his eye for a moment, his patience quickly wearing thin.

"I don't want to talk," he makes it clear to her in a cold, resigned, tired tone.

She shrugs.

"Then we won't," she says simply, accepting that, "But I want you to understand that I'm here for you."

"Yes, I know," he says without even looking at her, running a hand through his hair.

"We can always do other things," she mentions with a certain tone that Aemond understands instantly.

And before he can do anything, she is already kissing him.

The kiss starts slow and soft, while he has difficulties to reciprocate at first, but Floris doesn't stop and pulls the back of his neck towards her, deepening the kiss. 

And he with all the mental chaos he has, tries to reciprocate as best he can, trying to forget at least for a moment.

Floris' hands begin to move down, sliding her fingers slowly over his chest while her other hand gently stroke his hair. Aemond tries to lose himself in the sensation, in the moment and let himself go, so he places both hands on her waist. 

She begins to move slightly on top of him, her breathing becoming more agitated and her tongue making its way between his lips, wanting more.

He tries to keep up with her and when Floris begins to rub her center against him, his body responds automatically, letting out a slight grunt without stopping the kiss. 

Floris' need is evident and when she brings one of her hands to the edge of his shirt and pulls away from his lips, she watches him with full intent and desire in her gaze, her lips red and swollen.

"I want you now," she murmurs against his lips.

He doesn't say anything, just watches her, truly not so sure. But then he thinks: fuck it.

He's tired and exhausted from carrying the weight of everything around him. He just wants to forget, if only for a few moments. So when Floris starts to take off his shirt, he allows it.

She kisses him again with more intensity and he responds with more fervor than before. 

Her hands begin to roam all over his naked torso and he stands up, both hands on her thighs, leading her towards his bed.

Soon Floris is on top of him again and feels a spark of electricity run through his skin as her hands touch the edge of his shorts, but before that happens, she slowly pulls down the straps of her dress.

Aemond watches her wordlessly, with his dark eye and indecipherable expression, as Floris complacently takes her time, enjoying every second, wanting him to desire her.

The straps fall and the top of her summer dress slides off, revealing her breasts. Aemond swallows hard, a mixture of desire and bewilderment passing through his body.

She leans into him again to kiss him, as she takes one of his hands and places it on her breast, prompting him to caress her. 

He does so, almost mechanically, trying to let himself go and lose himself in the moment, as she rubs herself against him again, making him more aware of how he begins to get hard, his breathing hitching.

But when Floris' hand descends and slips under his shorts, touching him, it is as if his mind wakes up and sends an alert throughout his body. 

Suddenly, he stops kissing her and takes her hand roughly, stopping her. Floris watches him confused and half-naked on top of him, still shaken and not understanding anything.

"Aemond?"

He closes his eye tightly and lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head and bringing a hand to his forehead, clenching his jaw.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"What's wrong?" Floris asks him without understanding what has changed so suddenly.

But he doesn't answer, just shakes his head again and pulls her hand away, to also gently brush her off of him.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

Floris watches him from his bed, still with confusion on her face and quickly adjusts her dress, covering her naked body.

Her breathing is still rapid, but not so much from desire, but from the feeling of rejection that is infiltrating her. And again, for an instant, she thought this would never happen again.

But here they are, him pulling her away and her heart broken again by the humiliation.

"It's been a while," she murmurs, lowering her gaze, “Y-you don't..." her lips tremble, "You don't touch me."

He doesn't look at her, he can't. 

"I know. I'm sorry," he says in a low tone, the apology falling with a tone of resignation.

He picks up his T-shirt that's on the floor and puts it on, bringing a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration. And Floris watches him still completely confused.

"I just don't get it," she insists, "We're a couple. We should... be okay, I don't know," she says confused, "And I don't understand you. You don't talk to me, Aemond."

Aemond rubs his forehead, the pressure behind his eyes growing. He doesn't know how to explain, doesn't know how to put into words all the thoughts that suffocate him.

And he can't tell her that he doesn't really want to be with her either.

"I need to go," he says flatly.

"What?" she moves quickly, catching his arm, "No, please don't go," she tells him, her tone full of pleading, "I think we should talk."

"I can't, Floris. Not now."

Without trying to be abrupt, he releases his grip and Floris, unmoving, watches him as he takes his phone and car keys without another word. 

And he walks away, leaving her alone in his room.

He has no doubt that he will be in trouble for this later, maybe she will mention what happened to her sisters, eventually it will reach her father's ears about her having problems with their relationship and then it will reach his father's ears, demanding explanations from him.

He's not supposed to let her get out of his hands, as his father says, but now he really doesn't care about that.

He doesn't want to be with her and he shouldn't have let that happen. He should have stopped everything the moment she started kissing him.

Sex has been off the table for a while now. He has only slept with her once, when they both started dating for the first time. 

He barely remembers it. It was after they both went to a party. He drank a little more than he normally does and assumes that's why what happened at her house happened. 

And mostly it hasn't happened again because he doesn't have the interest. He doesn't feel the need with her. And just when he thinks it will finally happen when he lets himself go, in the moment he can't do it because it's feels wrong and pushes her away, leaving the action half done. 

And it's not her fault, it's his doing. But he knows that if he explained it to her, she wouldn't understand.

But just like that, another new frustration joins the storm in his mind.

Now he walks towards the pier, the only place where he feels he can breathe. The sound of the waves gently breaking against the wooden pillars, which is the only thing that accompanies him as he sinks into his thoughts.

He doesn't expect anyone to follow him or look for him there. In fact, the last thing he needs is someone else demanding something from him. 

For now, he doesn't want to be the perfect son, the boyfriend who should be attentive or the future heir to the family business. What he desperately wants is to escape the expectations that stifle him day after day.

He leans against the wooden stand and stares out into the deep, dark ocean, letting his mind wander, as he feels all the frustration wash over him and in an instant, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one.

He inhales deeply, letting the smoke invade his lungs, seeking in that sensation a temporary relief from the pressure he constantly feels. 

He enjoys his solitude, he has been used to it since he was a child. In many ways, he prefers it and finds it easier.

It is only now that he feels he is getting closer to his family or at least his siblings since his father has put more pressure on everyone. But he has not approached in the way he had hoped.

Aegon is not serious enough to broach the subject and evades his family in clouds of alcohol, parties and girls. Halaena is more independent and wrapped up in her own world, with her way of coping without getting swept away. 

Daeron doesn't yet understand the gravity of the expectations that will one day fall on him. And Rhaenyra... she's away with her own family.

And friends... he has no friends. At least, not genuine ones. They are not people he can trust without their own interests involved. 

And if he were to talk to any of them, it would be the same as with Floris; an empty conversation, full of awkward silences and expectations.

That's why at times like these, he strangely wishes he had someone to talk to. Someone who doesn't look at him with judgment or see him only as the heir who has to do his duty.

He needs someone who sees him for who he is, without expectations, without judgment. He just wants to be himself, wants to be just Aemond, without the unbearable weight of expectations.

'What would that be like?'

He wonders with genuine interest and even a certain... longing. But he knows he'll probably never know. Not with the life he has. 

He inhales deeply once more, the smoke mingling with the salty wind, enjoying the fleeting respite this place affords him. Then in the midst of his peace and quiet, the wood creaks softly under the footsteps that are not his.

He frowns and looks toward the entrance to the pier, thinking maybe it must be some of the security men, but then... he sees you.

He frowns more and attentively, he watches you walk, back straight and with cautious steps, as if trying not to make noise as you walk away, unaware of the creaking wood betraying you.

Then he wonders what you are doing here and why you are leaving. 

He remembers that he told you you could come back but doesn't understand why you're leaving. And before he can stop to think about what he is doing, he calls out you'r name.

"Y/N!?"

You stop immediately, your body tensing as if you've been caught doing something you shouldn't, again. 

You bite your lips nervously and slowly turn to look at him, some sorrow on your face as he continues to stare at you in confusion.

And well... he's already caught you, again, first here two nights ago, yesterday at the party and now here again, so what's the point?

"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I... I didn't see you on my way over here," you explain, "And well... I thought you might want to be alone."

Your gaze focuses on his, and for a second, the whole world seems to shrink down to just the two of you, as if you were the only ones on the beach, under the dim lights of the pier.

And he doesn't say anything to you, he just watches you intently. And you take that as a sign to leave.

"I'll leave you alone," you assure him in a soft tone, starting to turn away.

And again, Aemond without thinking, decides to stop you.

"Wait," he says finally, in a soft voice, "You don't have to go."

You watch him carefully and curiously as you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, a little unsure.

"Are you sure?"

He says nothing, just gives you a slight nod and you, hesitantly, finally take a step towards him and then another, beginning to close the distance to join him at the end of the pier.

An anticipation and excitement begins to grow within you, with the sea breeze and the sound of the waves enveloping you. 

You feel a slight tension begin to grow between the two of you. It's not uncomfortable but it's not easy to ignore either. And both Aemond and you know that you are both walking on uncertain ground.

But neither of you can help it.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

[spiritofpassionfruit]

A–Aventio TGCF idea?? Wherein Civil God Veritas Ratio meets the infamous Ghost King Aventurine during his first mission cuz cuz like— The "live for me" paralels?!? The one who has all the luck partner as well?!? The villain who was actually not the Villain this whole time!?!? The loving humanity a little too much it causes the downfall of a god?!?!?!?

Rant AU in the tags proceed with caution

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄 . ( a collection of fantasy - based dialogue prompts . adjust phrasing as necessary . )

strangers don't last very long around here .

lay down your sword , and i'll lay down mine .

whatever you do , do not stray from the path .

try not to get yourself killed .

the magic here is old and wild .

quiet ... do not wake it .

i thought i'd find you here . get up .

the tavern in [ location ] is known for its ale and its rumors .

you are starting the path towards your destiny .

is there no end to this accursed forest ?

my sword is yours .

the path to redemption is paved with trials and tribulations .

this forest feels ... sick . as if a disease lies upon it .

you are nothing but damned bones , and a damned soul .

have you ever seen the world beyond [ location ] ?

in the face of overwhelming odds , we must stand united .

please don't let them know that i'm here .

i've heard tales of your exploits . impressive , if they're true .

there's a town three miles east from here .

we have such history , you and i .

go carefully ... there's a camp nearby .

you will not die here , i forbid it .

your reputation precedes you .

i would rather die on my feet than on my knees .

there is no destiny . no born heroes .

you've got a fire in your eyes . use it , but don't let it consume you .

the spirits of this forest are restless .

there's more that you aren't telling me .

you have something that belongs to me .

you shouldn't be here , it's not safe in these parts .

all we can trust are the blades in our hands .

do you believe in fate ? destiny , prophecies ...

i don't think i'll ever get used to having blood on my hands .

wait ! there's traps here . lots of them .

i would die before helping in such a task .

there's an inn just another mile north .

have your blade at the ready .

if you can't already tell , i don't require saving .

have you drank your fill already ?

this isn't just some lark to me .

i'm headed to [ location ] . i could use some company .

your bravery is admirable , but it will also be your undoing .

you're exhausted , [ name ] . we're stopping here .

i will hunt you until the day i die .

i wish you a safe journey home .

as long as i can be of no help , i'm going to hide .

raise your sword . this should be a fair fight .

you're brave to show your face here again .

in this world , you can trust two things ; your intuition and your sword .

i've seen the way you look at the horizon . you're searching for something .

[ administers a healing potion / spell ] is that any better ?

you have no idea of the catastrophe you've set in motion .

there's an ambush ahead , stay quiet .

i want to know your story ... beginning to end .

in the end , we're all just stories waiting to be told .

i've heard tales of a dragon living high up in the mountains . some say it's just a myth , others swear it's real .

the line between friend and foe is often blurred .

try to stay quiet . is the wound deep ?

do not provoke them .

monster ? who's the monster here ?

i forbid you from telling anyone what you've seen here .

are you scared of witches ?

that's a beautiful [ weapon ] . may i ?

you are a valuable ally and a fearsome adversary .

do not tell me you've grown soft over the years .

if our enemy has returned , we must know .

you're a tough one to read , but i can see the kindness in your eyes .

the key to survival is knowing when to fight and when to flee .

i never expected to run into you in [ location ] .

last we spoke , you owed me some coin .

do not fear me ... everybody else fears me .

there is no magic or medicine that can cure this .

you keep questionable company .

every choice has a consequence .

the fate of the world lies in your hands .

so you're the great [ name ] .

remorse will get you nowhere .

you must stay on the path . do not leave it . if you do , you'll never find it again .

i once dreamed of this place . it's real ?

some secrets are best left buried .

the bridge is heavily guarded . we need a plan .

i thought you were returning home .

i would not do this unless i had to .

i need my horse .

it's real . all of the stories , the legends ... and it's real .

don't lose your wit . i believe you'll have need for it yet .