#he gives off a totally different vibe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chloe-petrichors · 2 months

Text

cradling constellations // jace x reader

when rhaenyra brings her family to court to celebrate the king's fiftieth name day, there was but one thing on your mind: getting to see jace, the boy you'd loved in secret, once more.

whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. —emily brontë

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!aunt!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon-typical incest, canon-au (it's viserys' birthday party baby), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s) idiots in love, instant attraction/love at first (second) sight, childhood sweethearts (kinda?), soulmate vibes, love confessions, switching povs, smut (mdni !) including masturbation (m), p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), implied loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mild marriage kink if that’s even a thing, body worship, dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, mild overstimulation, soft dom vibes, jace being a tits man. word count; 15k+ (oops) notes; me, obsessed with jace? more likely than u think. this whole fic spawned from the fact that i noticed jace's freckles on a gif and lost my gd mind. this was meant to be a quick smut fic. and then i took 11k+ words to get to the smut part. i'm sorry (i'm not). this is totally self-indulgent, soulmates, love at first sight kinda fluff-to-smut and i regret nothing. way too much time of writing this was me trawling through the asoiaf wiki pages to find details that are relevant for one whole sentence. why am i this way. valyrian is pulled straight from a translator i found online, pls let me know if you notice any errors! requests; are open !

the first time you laid eyes on jacaerys velaryon, you knew he was something special.

you had just been children, then, uncertain of each other due to the discontent between your families. but he had been kind to you, dark eyes warm, and it had been an easy thing to be kind in return. your brothers make it difficult, of course, as they seem to do with everything they get involved in. aegon had been the worst at first, spouting off the same vitriol your mother had always whispered into your ears, but aemond had not been far behind him.

after the events of laena’s funeral and the loss of aemond’s eye, the hostilities only grow and grow. helaena keeps herself apart from most of it by virtue of her typically distant manner, but your brothers insist on drawing you into the same arguments again and again. it's tedious, laborious, but they are your family.

jace and luke are too, of course, not that anyone else seems to want to admit it. for all that they are velaryon’s by name (and strong in heart, mayhaps, yes), they are your nephews. your brothers only seem interested in remembering this when it serves them, however — which is usually when they’re lording it over the dark-haired boys.

in truth, the velaryon’s are hardly innocent either. it seems like the two sets of boys bring out the absolute worse in each other without fail, and it’s usually left to you to try and be the voice of reason.

away from your brothers’ taunts, jace is like a different boy entirely. endlessly curious and ceaselessly kind, the brunette seems to always have time to talk and jape with you. your friendship grows surprisingly easy as children, and with early adulthood comes the bloom of a different kind of affection, too. you never say anything, knowing all too well that if your brothers catch even a whisper of your feelings that there will be no end of hells to pay.

it matters little, regardless. your mother will never tolerate a betrothal between the two of you and you know better than to even attempt to broach such a topic. it had been sheer miracle that she hadn’t tried marrying you off to aemond after securing aegon and helaena’s marriage, and you aren’t willing to tempt fate by giving her ideas now. so what if you spend countless nights dreaming of freckled skin and dark hair? it matters not in the scheme of things.

rhaenyra flees kings landing after daemon’s return to westeros, leaving you feeling strangely bereft without your nephews’ company. years go by with no contact from your sister’s family, and so you let your old daydreams fall to the wayside. there’s no use dwelling on what you can’t have, and no point bringing it up since even now just a mention of luke or jace is enough to inflame aemond’s temper.

and then, of course, the news comes that rhaenyra is returning to court for the king’s fiftieth name day. there are great feasts and celebrations planned in honour of your father, which you privately think silly considering it’s unlikely he would be well enough to attend half the festivities. still, there’s no denying your excitement at the idea of seeing jace again. he would be a man grown, now, his twentieth name day having passed only a few moons ago.

for once the majority of your family will be under one roof, and you are certain it will end in disaster — but you intend to enjoy it while you can.

going flying the morning of the velaryons arrival is perhaps not your smartest idea.

your nerves wake you well before dawn. you feel as if you’re going to crawl out of your skin if you don’t do something, and you know your chances for flying will be limited with the celebrations expected to start tomorrow. so you decided to take the chance while you can, dressing quickly in your riding gear before creeping to the dragon pit well before any of your family wake.

silverwing likes it when you take her for unexpected flights, so she makes no complaint when you have the dragon keepers release her. you go through the motions of saddling her yourself, as you always do, taking the chance to reinforce the bond with your dragon.

silverwing hadn’t been your hatched dragon. the egg that you had slept beside as a babe had never hatched, just as aemond’s and helaena’s hadn’t. it had infuriated aemond when you were children, that jace and luke’s dragons hatched while he was left without. it had made him an easy target for the other boys; aegon had often led the others in riling him about his lack of dragon until he had claimed vhagar. you can admit now that the others had oft been cruel to him in their japing, and it had ended poorly for everyone involved.

your claiming of silverwing had been incredibly boring in comparison. she had found you, in truth, a year after aemond claimed vhagar. she’d been your great-grandmother the good queen alysanne’s dragon before your own, and had not taken a rider since the queen’s death. she’d flown from the dragonmont to find you, and you’ve been nigh on inseparable since. your mother despairs over it, hating how her often her ‘perfect daughter’ has shown up to court late with windswept hair and flushed cheeks.

but, to you, flying is freedom.

there’s nothing else like it in the world; the sensation of silverwing beneath you, the seven kingdoms at your fingertips, and only the sky above. your mother has never really let go of her fear of the dragons, and you can understand it in a way; she is no targaryen, and she’ll never know what it is to bond with a dragon, to have that presence so alien and yet so familiar nudging against the corners of your mind. any attempts to explain it to her are met with bemusement and wariness, and you’d long ago learned to stop bringing it up.

silverwing’s joy to fly merges into your own as you climb atop her, running a soothing hand over the gleaming silver spikes at her neck as you adjust the straps. her impatience thrums loudly through the bond as you settle yourself into the saddle, and you feel her heart beat through you like a second pulse as your own anticipation rises.

“ivestragī īlva sōvegon, ñuha raqiros! [let us fly, my friend!]”

she needs no further nudging than that, and with a delighted roar she launches into the air. your laughter is stolen by the wind as she beats her wings, propelling you higher and higher before sweeping over the towering peaks of the red keep. with a shouted instruction she banks sharply to the left, flying out over blackwater bay as the sun finally crests the horizon. the dark sea lights up with reds and golds beneath you, the sky gloriously blue above, and silverwing’s distinctive scales shine in the breaking dawn.

a glorious morning, you think, and as the two of you climb higher to the sky you feel all your nerves and excitement for anything but the flight leave you. this is what your mother will never understand; flying is an escape, yes, but not from your duties as she assumes it is. this is an escape from your worries, from the petty machinations of court. in the sky with your dragon, you need worry only about how chill the wind will be, or if aemond is out with vhagar, who’s a grumpy old beast at the best of times and silverwing is feeling mischievous.

you find peace, here, in the sky. this is what you were born for.

long minutes pass as you fly leisurely, circling over the bay and the keep and back again in ever widening circles. sometimes silverwing dives just to do so, plunging so close to the blackwater that you could reach out and skim your hand over the dark depths. you lose track of time as the two of you fly, contentment bleeding across the bond so completely you can’t even tell which one of you it’s coming from.

a dragon’s cry in the distance catches your attention, and silverwing pulls up from where she’d been ducking her head into the water to snatch fish. she propels you rapidly higher into the air, crying out in response as you break through the thin cloud cover. you expect to find aegon’s dragon; sunfyre is the only dragon silverwing likes, rather than tolerates, to be making such a noise in greeting.

but it’s an unfamiliar dragon that greets you, olive green scales shining with the damp from the high altitudes. your mind races as you struggle to place it, and it’s only when you catch sight of a head of dark curls astride the dragon that you realise who it is.

vermax.

and jacaerys.

your heart skips in your chest, silverwing’s unexpected excitement tangling with your own nerves as she swoops towards the much smaller dragon. it’s only her sheer happiness that stops you from panicking or shouting a command to halt in valyrian, and moments later you recall she’d have known vermax from her time on dragonstone.

she somersaults over and around vermax playfully, and you release an exhilarated laugh in response as you cling tightly to the saddle. you see only snatches of jace as your dragons fly complicated patterns around each other, but the quick flashes you do get find an easy smile on his face.

the dragons spend a long while flying together, racing and diving and spiralling to new heights. they move so quickly that you have no chance to try and greet jacaerys, can offer nothing more than quick smiles as you pass him. it gives you the time for your nerves to settle back down, time to reassure yourself that any childhood feelings are long faded and that you will be able to act perfectly composed when it is time to greet him.

eventually you realise your dragon is not going to land until you tell her too, and vermax is clearly just as willing to chase after the larger she-dragon for as long as she is willing to be chased.

“māzigon, silverwing. istiti tegun [come, silverwing. we must land],” you shout, laughing again when the dragon whines her displeasure. she listens regardless, soaring down in tightening circles with vermax following close on your tail. her landing in the dragon pit is far from smooth, but you’re well used to compensating for the jostling as she settles onto the ground once more.

you’re quick in freeing yourself from the saddle, murmuring warm thanks and praise to your dragon as you walk to the side of her great head to meet a single burning eye. “kirimvose, ñuha raqiros. kesi sōvegon arlī aderī [thank you, my friend. we will fly again soon],” you tell her, and she responds with a content grumble as she nudges her head gently against your chest in affection.

you leave the dragon keepers to return her to her cave, instead turning to watch as jace shares his own goodbyes with his dragon. you take the chance to look at him, properly look, and find yourself suddenly warring with self-consciousness and a burning in your chest.

despite the acrobatics of the dragons, he looks perfectly put together with his dark curls brushing his shoulders and a pleasing tan to his skin. you fear you must look a ruin, with your hair undoubtedly a mess and cheeks flushed from the cold bite of the wind. your breath is still a touch laboured from the exertion of the flight, while he looks perfectly composed in his fancy black and red doublet. you curse the old gods and the new that you’d picked out your old riding gear this morning — comfortable, yes, but certainly not ideal for greeting the heir to the heir and the man you’d once daydreamed about marrying.

you push the thoughts away with determined stubbornness, refusing to dwell on the warmth in your chest when jace finally turns to look at you. he’s grown, you note immediately, now standing at least a head taller than you. any traces of baby fat have left him, leaving behind a strong, square jaw and strong yet slim shoulders. his dark eyes are warm, though, and his smile friendly as he takes you in.

you dip instinctually into a curtsey, a perfectly respectable greeting ready on your lips, but you’re startled into straightening back to standing when jace laughs.

“come now, princess,” he says, fond and teasing he approaches you. he’s the only one who’s ever been able to make the title sound more like an endearment. “since when have we been ones for formality?”

it sets you at ease immediately, tension relaxing from your shoulders as you beam at him. “i suppose we never have been very good at that, have we?” you let your eyes skip over him again, something like relief settling in your bones at the sight of him. “it’s good to see you again, jace.”

“aye,” he returns, dark eyes sparkling. “it is good to see you, indeed.”

for a long moment he simply looks at you, and it makes that peculiar warmth in your chest blaze a little brighter. there’s something in his face that you’ve never seen there before — but then you think of course there is. you haven’t seen him in so long there’s probably all kinds of things about you him you no longer know. it aches, almost, to think it, but in a way he’s a stranger to you; a man with the kind eyes of the boy you’d loved in secret, once.

you clear your throat as you drop your eyes from his stare, glancing at the bustling keepers as they tend to your dragons instead as you cast about for something to say.

“are the rest of your family not flying in?” you query after a moment.

he shakes his head, dark curls swaying with the movement. “no, arrax and tyraxes are still too small to fly luke and joff for such a journey, and mother would rather stay with my brothers on the ship.”

you nod in acceptance, shifting slightly on the spot. “well then, let me be the first to welcome you back to king’s landing, my prince.” you take the formality out of your tone with a playful wink, and are gratified to see the way he chuckles at your antics.

“i had hoped you’d be the first i’d see.” he admits this casually, as if this doesn’t set your heart and mind racing. “i have missed you, aunt.”

you duck your head again to try and hide the smile spreading across your face. you tell yourself sternly to stop acting like some lovesick child, all the while that small flame continues to burn away inside of you. “and i you, nephew.” you glance up at him shyly from beneath your lashes, teeth worrying at your bottom lip, and you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement.

he’s the one to clear his throat, this time, stepping a half-pace away from you and gesturing for you to proceed him. “shall we head to the keep, then? my mother’s ship should have arrived by now and we wouldn’t want to miss the formal welcome.”

“as you say,” you agree, and the two of you set off.

you spend the long walk to the keep catching up on the long years between you. you’d expected the time apart to be like a gulf between you, a canyon that could not be crossed, but if anything it’s the opposite. it’s as if you’d last seen each other only hours ago. it should startle you, how simple it feels to fall into your old friendship, but you don’t have it in you to be surprised. that’s always been the thing with jace, after all — it’s easy. being around him, speaking to him, listening to his odd tangents. it all comes as natural to you as breathing, as if there’s a part of you that was just born knowing him.

he's dodging your questions as you finally arrive at the keep, having let slip something about an old secret from the days of your childhood that he’s never shared with you. it makes something flutter in your chest, the way he looks at you as he says it. the way he’s looked at you the whole time, in fact, has you having to bite back a smile. he looks at you as if he is looking at something precious, expression tender and fond and uncomplicated. it threatens to steal your breath again, and so you make an effort to try and act as unaffected as possible, because he cannot mean it in the way you think you might want him too.

“oh, but you simply must tell me!” you wheedle cheerfully, a mischievous smile on your lips. “you wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you, my prince?”

you pout at him, fluttering your lashes in the way you usually do when trying to get your way with your brothers. jace swallows audibly at the sight, some emotion you can’t read flickering across his eyes as his gaze drops to your mouth and then lower again before returning to your eyes. something in his expression makes you flush, cheeks burning as your lips part slowly. a heat rises in you, unbidden, as he steps ever so slightly closer into your space. you’re overwhelmed with the smell of him; sea salt and dragon smoke and something almost woodsy underneath it, something entirely jace.

he murmurs your name so quietly you almost miss it over the sounds of courtyard. his hand twitches as if to reach for you as he ducks his head slightly, and you think if you lifted yours just so you’d be able to brush your lips over the strong line of his jaw. you realise suddenly how much you want to — how much you want to drag your tongue over his skin and taste.

oh.

you want him. that peculiar feeling that had been burning in your chest — you recognise the desire for what it is, now. the easy camaraderie that you’d fell into on the walk to the keep subsides in the wake of it, and abruptly all you can think of is what his mouth will feel like on your own. the palpable tension between you makes your hands tremble with the urge to touch, heart pounding so loudly in your ears it drowns out anything that isn’t him as the rest of the courtyard fades away.

you sway the barest inch closer, inhaling his scent deeply, and watch as jace’s nostrils flare in response. with a shaky breath you lift your chin, eyes dropping to his parted lips, and you bite your bottom lip as his tongue sweeps over his own.

“jace…”

“brother! there you are!”

luke’s voice startles you both back to reality as you spring apart. you hadn’t realised just how close you’d gotten, your chests almost brushing with every breath, until the gap between you widens. you drop your eyes to your feet, cheeks blazing with embarrassment as you realise how close you’d come to kissing him in an extremely public place. you chide yourself internally for forgetting yourself, and take another second to gather your composure before lifting your head with a smile.

“hello, nephew,” you greet luke warmly, doing your best to ignore the way jace’s eyes burns into the side of your face. “it is very good to see you again.”

“aunt!” luke fairly cheers, and you note how the youth still clings to his face. while certainly older than the last time you’d seen him, he still seems like a child to you. his limbs are long and gangly, in that awkward stage at the cusp of adulthood where he’s not quite grown into himself yet. he bounds closer, drawing you into a hug that you allow and return with a fond laugh.

“luke, honestly,” jace tuts, shaking his head as the two of you separate. “we’re at court, now. at least try to remember your manners.”

the younger boy winces. “ah, right, yes.” he sketches a quick but perfect bow your way. “it is a great honour to see you once more, princess.” he flashes a cheeky smile and a wink your way as he straightens out, and you press your hand to your mouth to smother a giggle at the exasperated look on jace’s face at his brother’s antics. he’s hardly one to talk, you think, considering how quickly he had dispensed with manners when greeting you.

in return, you dip into a practiced if impish curtsey. “it is a sincere pleasure to see you as well, prince lucerys.”

luke does giggle, then, as jace rolls his eyes so hard you think they’re at risk of falling out of his head. despite his dramatics, you spot the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he watches you jape with his brother.

“the queen is looking for you, dear aunt,” luke says after the greetings are done, and your amusement flees you as your stomach drops.

it’s only then you realise that with both luke and jace being here, you’ve certainly missed the official welcome of princess rhaenyra back to court. you wince at the thought of your mother’s ire, resigning yourself to a long lecture about your responsibilities and how dragon riding is ‘not one of them’. jace catches your expression, concern creasing his face as his brows furrow.

“alright?” he checks, and you do your best to offer him a reassuring smile.

“yes, i’m sure all will be well.” you hesitate a moment before offering a one-shouldered shrug, ignoring the voice in your head that sounds far too much like your mother telling you how unladylike such a motion is. “i expect my mother will be displeased with me for missing the official welcome, but the festivities will surely distract her quick enough.”

luke and jace both offer you a commiserating smile as the three of you head into the keep. you expect your mother will be waiting in her solar, which is on a close route to the guest suites set aside for the visiting royals, and so you walk with the velaryons as far as you can. when it comes time to part, jace lingers at the entry of the hall as luke continues down the corridor. his dark eyes are fixed to yours so intensely it steals your breath as you slow to a stop as well.

“i’ll see you at the feast,” he says quietly, capturing your hand in his much larger one and bringing it to his mouth. your breath hitches in your chest, eyes widening as he brushes his lips tenderly over your knuckles. your lips part in surprise, tingles racing up your arm from where his mouth makes contact with your skin. before you have chance to respond, jace dips into a sweeping bow and then bids you farewell, leaving you staring after him for a long moment.

well. if your mother doesn’t kill you, you think jace certainly will.

jace sinks into the hot water of the bath with a deep sigh of relief.

after meeting with his mother to explain why he’d been late to the formal greetings — or, rather, offer excuses as to why he’d been late, since he doesn’t think his mother will take well to the idea he was so busy enjoying himself flying with you that the thought of any formal welcome party left his mind entirely — he’d sought his chambers. the bath had been ready and waiting for him, tendrils of steam wafting from the clear water, and he’d wasted no time in shedding his clothes. he’s keen to wash the dragon stink from his skin before the feast, and he makes quick work of scrubbing his skin clean. when he’s done, he allows himself to relax against the metal of the tub, arms draped carelessly over the metal rim as he soaks.

king’s landing from dragonstone is not too long a journey on dragon back, but flying for such a stretch causes its own particular aches. vermax had enjoyed the chance to stretch his wings, at least, and had enjoyed the playful flight with silverwing even more.

he can admit to himself he’d enjoyed it, too, the sight of you astride your dragon lighting something within him. it’s been so long since he’d seen you, not since the aftermath of laena’s funeral, and he hadn’t been prepared for how the sight of you — breathless and flush and beaming at him — would make him feel. he’d almost managed to push back his boyhood adoration and childhood daydreams of marrying you one day with the years passing, but seeing you again brings it all rushing back and he feels as hopelessly enamoured with you now as he did as a child.

you’ve grown well, there’s no denying that. where childhood had left you sometimes awkward and gangly, you’ve become a woman grown now with all the curves and delights that come with it. he’d been embarrassed at how hard it had been to pull his gaze from you on the trip to the keep, but you’d not seemed to notice. too occupied with filling the air between you with light chatter, you’d been oblivious to the way his eyes had dragged over your form again and again.

you just — you’re so unlike anyone else he knows. he’d let himself forget how lovely you were, but there was no way to ignore it now. riding the high of your flight and genuinely happy to see him, you’d been like something out of a dream. your face had been as open to him as ever, plainly delighted to see him, and seeing you had eased some ache he’d become so used to he’d not even know it was there until he felt the lack of it.

he’s not some foolish child. he knows better than to think of things like love when his head must lie with his duty. but the thought remains regardless, lingering in the back of his mind that you would be as easy to love now as you had been when you were younger. it had been a childish love then, of course; innocent and sweet in the ways only children could be. but it had been there, unspoken and unacted upon, but no less real for it.

you’re not children anymore. it would be impossible to think otherwise with the way your riding gear had clung flatteringly to your chest and hips. your mouth looked so pretty stretched into a smile, a smile for him, and he thinks it’s a testament to his restraint that he’d not kissed you on the spot when you’d pouted so prettily up at him. he’d thought for a fleeting moment that perhaps you were going to kiss him with the way your eyes had darkened, how you’d gravitated into his space as if without intention.

heat pools in his stomach as he thinks about how the neckline of your riding dress had cut low enough to allow him a peak at your chest, heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. he wonders what your mouth would taste like, what noises you would make if he’d slid his tongue against your own. gods, he feels like a green boy seeing a woman for the first time — almost undone at just the thought of you. he won’t be able to get through the welcome feast like this, he thinks, so on edge with his lust for you burning him from the inside out.

it’s not even a conscious choice to curl his fingers around his cock, half-hard already as he thinks of you. jace’s head tips back against the rim of the bath, eyes drifting closed as a quiet gasp escapes him. the warm water eases his way as he strokes himself, and he lets himself imagine it’s your slick, instead.

he pictures you before him, pretends it’s your hand teasing at the skin at the head of his cock. your hands are so small, so dainty, he thinks you probably wouldn’t be able to wrap them all the way around him. he imagines they’re a little calloused — soft, mostly, but with the fingertips just rough enough from years spent riding and caring for your dragon. they’d drag so deliciously against his skin, and you’d take to the task with the same voracious enthusiasm you do with everything else. you’d watch him closely, pick up on the cues of his pleasure, and he’d unravel for you so quickly it’d be embarrassing if it was anyone else.

“fuck,” he hisses out, thumb dragging over the liquid leaking copiously from his tip. his head tips back even further, water dripping from his curls onto the stone floor as he chases his release. his imagining splinters into disconnected fantasies; you, on your knees with your mouth stretched around him, lashes damp with reflexive tears as your eyes fix on his. you, sprawled beneath him and writhing as he feasts on your cunt like a man starved. you, babbling in high valyrian as he sinks into the tight wet heat of you. you, clenching and shuddering around his cock as you come for him, blazing and beautiful. you, you, you.

his release hits him hard, a low groan tearing from his throat as his hips thrust up into his hand as he drags out those last few moments of pleasure. his panting breaths sound loud in the silence of his chambers, and jace is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he is alone. there is, of course, no trace of you.

he knows in that moment he has to have you. he cannot tolerate the thought of anyone else — not for himself, and certainly not for you. he wants you as his wife, his queen, the mother of his children. jace doesn’t care how he must do it — as long as you’re as willing as he is, he is going to make you his.

the feast has started by the time jace arrives.

his indulgence had cost him time, and then he’d spent longer than usual readying himself while trying to ignore the fact he was doing so only to impress you. by the time he makes it to the hall his family are already seated and the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune. his eyes seek you instantly, and he resists the urge to frown in disappointment as he sees you sat between helaena and aemond. he’d hoped to sit beside you and use this time to see if there was any hint of you returning his feelings. no matter — there would be time enough later. if he has his way, there’ll be all the time in the world.

you look beautiful, he notes. you’re dressed in your usual deep green, the gown cut flatteringly for your shape. your face is animated and happy as you chat to aemond, and though he finds the idea of anyone enjoying that grumpy prick’s presence bizarre, he enjoys the sight of you so at ease.

as he approaches the head table and the empty seat between his mother and luke, your eyes linger on him. he’s gratified by the way you light up when you spot him, offering him a warm smile in welcome for all that you’re quickly entangled into a conversation with your sister. it eases some of the sting at finding you unavailable, and he’s helpless but to smile back at you even when your gaze slides back to helaena.

luke eyes him strangely as he settles into his seat but says nothing as jace reaches for a goblet of wine. his mother greets him absently, entangled as she is in conversation with the king, and he takes the moment to glance out at the hall.

it’s a relatively small feast. large enough to not cause offence to the heir to the throne, but not so grand as to detract from the festivities planned for the next fortnight. he recognises a few faces in the crowd, people from different houses from across the kingdoms. the king’s birthday celebrations are no small affair, and he spots representatives from all the great houses as well as some of the more minor ones.

it makes him want to slump in his seat, for all that he keeps his posture straight. he knows the next few weeks will be full of politicking and double speak, and it grates. as the heir to the heir, jace knows it’s partially his responsibility to ensure their alliances still stand while seeking out any news one that might present themselves. he has no doubt that some of the lords in this crowd will have brought their daughters, planning to parade them in front of him and his brothers in hopes they might pick one as their betrothed.

his lack of betrothal has been a point of contention for many of the court, he knows. most had assumed he would be betrothed to his stepsister baela, and he’d thought the same for years. it was only when his mother had confided that baela had no interest in being queen and, in fact, was so strongly opposed to the idea that she swore to fly to essos and never be seen again if they tried marrying her to him that he realised just why such a betrothal had never been announced.

it had left him free, in a way, to pursue his own desires; without a betrothal attached to him he’d shed any guilt about seeking company at the pleasure houses. but, in turn, it had left him open to the machinations of the other houses who all sought to have their blood on the iron throne. it’s incredibly tedious, but he knows he must grin and bear it for the sake of his mother and his house.

the food arrives then, and he busies himself with the meal and talking to his siblings. his grandsire makes a speech welcoming his daughter and her family home, and jace notes the sour faces of alicent’s sons. they keep their tongues, at least, which shows a maturity from them he truthfully hadn’t expected. perhaps they’ve grown just as you have, he thinks, but dismisses the thought when aemond catches his eye and only sneers in response to jace’s tentative smile.

he's often wondered at the conflict between the two sides of the family. the animosity now he can pinpoint, of course; aemond losing his eye. but there had been years before that of tense, standoffish behaviour interspersed with camaraderie when everyone seemed to forget they weren’t meant to be friends. he remembers playing pranks with aegon while luke trailed after them, and he remembers sitting with helaena while she perused the dirt for bugs.

he remembers you, most of all. kind and fearless and smart, you’d enamoured him from the moment he was old enough to recognise girls were different to boys in interesting ways. even before then you’d been fast friends, something in your similarly mischievous behaviour drawing you into each other’s orbit. he’s always been drawn to you, he thinks, to the uncomplicated joy you took in your life. there was so much to be miserable about, so much duty on all your shoulders, but you always found something to smile over. your unfailing optimism would no doubt be irritating to some, but to him it has always been one of his favourite things about you.

his gaze, predictably, shifts to you. he startles to find you looking at him already. you flush immediately as your eyes lock, presumably embarrassed at being caught, and he enjoys the colour it brings to your cheeks. you don’t drop his stare, though, not until helaena says something to draw your attention back to her once again. he catches sight of a private little quirk of your lips as your head turns, and something like satisfaction settles in his chest as he hides his own smile in his goblet.

perhaps this feast won’t be as tedious as he’d feared.

“are you enjoying the festivities, princess?”

jace’s voice pulls you from where you’ve been staring into your wine as if it holds all the secrets of the world. you’ve lost count of how many goblets you’ve had, chattering away with your siblings before aegon had started to become cruel in his inebriation and you’d all opted to split apart through the hall. you glance up to find the velaryon prince standing before you, hands perched loosely on the hilt of his sword. he looks unfairly handsome, you think, with his tumble of curls and well-fitted doublet, and something about the slight smirk on his face makes you think he knows it.

“i am enjoying them well enough,” you allow, flicking your gaze from his to look out at the dance floor. aemond is dancing with helaena, aegon far too deep into his cups to bother thinking of his wife. your mother is as tense as she has been since you’d found her earlier; her stepdaughter’s arrival to court has set her incredibly on edge, and the lecture she’d given you earlier had certainly been one of her worst. and your father is oblivious to it all, simply too pleased at the presence of his favoured daughter to care about the way the rest of his family are fracturing apart.

he's not been a good father to you, the king. he’s called you and helaena rhaenyra more than once over the years, and even when his eyes are you on you, you never feel like it’s you he sees. your mother had tried to soothe the ache of his absence, of his blatant favour for a woman who was not here, but as the years stretched on even she had seemed to fade further and further away from you all. for so long it’s just been the four of you, clinging to each other and tearing each other apart in equal measure. you’ve oft thought that daeron is the luckiest of you, able to thrive at the hightower and away from the mess of your family.

you pause at the maudlin turn of your thoughts, peering contemplatively into your wine again before offering jace a slightly sheepish smile. “i… fear i may have indulged in too much wine,” you admit, startling a laugh from the darkhaired prince.

it’s aegon’s fault, you decide; before he’d gotten belligerently drunk he’d been so cheerful, seemingly pleased to have the pressure of being the eldest targaryen child in court off of his shoulders. in his cheer he had plied you with wine, laughing and japing with an arm over your shoulder as you reminisced on simpler times of your childhood. happy to see him so, you’d not resisted, but now you find yourself regretting those choices as your thoughts tumble sluggishly through your mind.

jace shakes his head fondly at you, reaching out to carefully steal your goblet away. his fingers brush against yours as he does so, the barest of touches and yet enough to set your heart racing as you blink slowly up at him. he sips from your wine deliberately, amber eyes darkening as he holds your stare, and your lips part with an unsteady breath. something about him drinking your wine from your cup has your stomach fluttering pleasantly.

gods, i want him.

the thought is enough to startle you, heat suffusing your cheeks as you avert your gaze. jace doesn’t, though, and you can feel the weight of his stare on you like a tangible thing. it makes your skin prickle with warmth, and you lurch a touch unsteadily to your feet before you can say anything silly like ‘kiss me, please’.

“i think i should retire to my chambers before i make a drunken fool of myself,” you announce, fingers smoothing over the green velvet of your dress.

“i’ll escort you,” jace returns, tone leaving no room for argument.

he sets aside the wine and offers you his arm, quirking an eyebrow as if in challenge. you hesitate for barely a second, taking a steadying breath, before looping your arm through his and allowing him to lead you through the crowd towards the open doors. the woodsy smell of him you’d noticed before is clearer, now, and you take another deep breath of the scent. it calms your nerves and yet inflames your desire, and your fingers tighten infinitesimally against his bicep.

you stop at the doors of the feasting chamber for long enough to let ser erryk know that you’re retiring for the evening, leaving it to him to pass the message on to your mother, and then you and jace are alone in the halls of the keep.

of course, you’re not truly alone. guards litter the corridors and even at this late hour servants bustle along, busy with their chores. but in the quiet of the keep as jace leads you to your rooms, you can almost imagine yourself alone with him. the thought threatens to overwhelm you, mad fantasies of him tugging you into a dark alcove to devour you flashing through your mind, and you scold yourself internally.

you’re really very cross with aegon. he and his wine have left you in this state, too far into your cups to keep control of your dangerous wonderings. if only he had not kept calling for more of that gods-be-damned arbor gold, you’d have been able to keep your wits about you. you’d wanted to dance at the feast, too, mayhaps even with jacaerys but at the very least with your brothers. instead, you’re being led back to your rooms like a child who’s had their first taste of wine with dinner and let it go to their head.

jace’s presence helps your intoxication little. seeing him again, touching him, smelling him — it’s all too much when all your defences are down like this. you feel like a girl again, staring breathlessly after him and so full of certainty that you love him, and it’s just— ridiculous. you’ve spent mere hours in his presence and you’re like some lovelorn idiot with no thought in your mind beyond being as close to him as is possible. it’s foolish, reckless, absurd. but it’s there, regardless, unfurling in your chest with a lovely kind of agony.

you keep quiet on the walk, too afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll beg him to have his way with you or, worse, confess your re-blooming infatuation for him, and jace seems content enough to walk in silence for a while. eventually, though, he speaks.

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you drunk before,” he observes, tone light.

you glance at him sidelong, pursing your lips at the teasing smirk curling on his mouth. “it’s aegon’s doing,” you tell him solemnly. “my brother is something of an expert on the subject of wines, and his tolerance is… much higher than mine own.”

jace snorts. “aye, i had noticed.”

you lapse into silence, again, only now you find yourself stealing glances at him. he really is very pretty, you think, though in quite a masculine way. something about the sharp line of his jaw and the curl of his eyelashes keeps drawing your attention, and you suspect you are not being subtle with your admiration in your inebriated state. as you walk by an open window moonlight floods into the hall, sending jace’s profile into sharp relief, and your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his smooth skin. something about the pattern makes you think of the stars, and you realise too late that your quick glances have turned to a lingering stare.

“is there something on my face, princess?”

jace’s mockingly innocent words draw your eyes to his. he’s smirking down at you, eyes dancing with amusement, and your cheeks flush. gods, you don’t think you’ve blushed so much in moons compared to the mere hours you’ve spent in his company. the things this man is doing to you — it is unconscionable. you don’t know how much more of this you can take before your resolve breaks.

“i apologise, my prince,” your respond after a beat, teeth biting at your lip. “i did not mean to… i was leagues away.”

his eyes darken, mischief fleeing them in favour of flickers of something else as they linger on your mouth, and that damnable heat in your stomach blazes. you want desperately to surge forward and kiss him, or for him to take you in his hands and kiss you. you just want, and ache, and burn. and it’s too much, far too much for your wine-addled brain to process, but you know if anyone was to happen upon you in this corridor, starting at him with your mouth parted and your breaths shuddering through your lungs, there will be consequences.

“we should— we are almost at my chambers.” your words are stumbling, loud in the sudden quiet that had descended over the pair of you, and jace startles a little, eyes darting away from yours as your stomach plummets. gods, what are you doing? staring at him in such a way? he must think you a simple-minded fool, gaping at him for the sake of a few freckles. you step away from him, rubbing your arm as you turn your eyes to stare intently at your feet instead. “i can make it the rest of the way from here. you should return to the feast.”

jace is quiet for a long moment and you peek up at him to see him watching you with an indecipherable expression for a charged breath before nodding slowly and taking a step away.

“as you wish,” he murmurs, ducking his head in a simple bow. “sweet dreams, princess.”

you stutter out your own farewell, half-convinced you’ll be dreaming of nothing but his hands and his mouth this night, before turning and all but fleeing down the hall.

oh, yes. jacaerys is certainly going to be the death of you.

jace spends the next few days at court so entangled in his responsibilities he feels he barely sets eyes upon you.

he and his mother are roped into starting the celebrations in the absence of the king himself. his grandsire’s health is failing, of that there is no doubt, and after enjoying himself a touch too heartily at the welcome feast he requires a few days to recover. he thinks perhaps that’s why these festivities are so important; it’s unlikely the king will make it to his five and fiftieth name day, and almost certainly not his sixtieth. it leaves him with… complicated feelings.

when his grandsire dies, he will no longer be the heir to the heir, but the heir to the iron throne itself. it’s a daunting thought; for all that his mother has seen him well prepared to sit his throne one day, it feels such an impossible task. he doesn’t understand how he’s ever supposed to be ready for such a thing.

the thought rises, unbidden, that it would be easier with you by his side. with your kind heart but sharp mind, you’d make a fine queen. he finds himself daydreaming of it still and scolding himself all the while for acting the green boy, and yet unable to stop. it’s as if his every thought leads back to you in some way or another — he sees a flower and wonders if you’d like the smell of it, or sees a dress and thinks of how much lovelier it would look on you. at night he indulges in more sensual wonderings, and he swears he’s not felt the urge to touch himself so much since he was a boy of five and ten just starting to discover the pleasures the touch of another can bring.

for all that you’d appeared to reject him the night of the welcome feast, he finds himself certain you desire him just as he does you. in fact, he fancies it’s that very desire that had led to you fleeing his company and avoiding him in the days after.

because you are avoiding him.

yes, he is busy with the festivities and you are perhaps equally so. but he does not think it’s busyness that drives you to seek conversation with absolutely anyone else when he looks for your company, and it is not busyness that has you clinging to aemond’s side so fiercely either. you know he won’t approach you when you’re with your brother, knowing how it hurts you to see them trade barbs and knowing himself well enough to know he will not be able to bite back his rancour if aemond says a word about his father.

jace is not an idiot. he knows what people say about him, the words they barely bother to whisper behind their hands about who his true sire is. he has complicated feelings about that, too, but it all boils down to one simple thing: he is his mother’s son. she is heir to the king, and he is her heir. for him, that’s all that can matter.

he knows it’s all that matters to you, too. for all that your brothers had spit bastard at him for as long as he can remember, you’ve never done so. you’ve never looked at him differently for the rumours of his birth, and it’s just one thing among many he treasures about you.

perhaps it’s foolish, to cling to these childhood feelings so tightly, but he cannot let the idea of the two of you together go. he knows luke has noticed how he stares after you in longing, since his brother has never been shy about teasing him relentlessly. he thinks his mother has noticed, too, from the few carefully inane comments she’s made about betrothals and duty.

he supposes an argument could be made for the fact that with the years without contact between you, he doesn’t really know you anymore, not as he once did, but he doesn’t feel it matters. he can learn anything new about you and will in fact do so joyfully, but the important things? the things that speak to who you are at your core? jace has always known those, has always felt connected to you in a way he never has with another, and he loves you now just as he did as a boy.

it would be easier in a way if he felt sure you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. at least then he could try and move on from them, put to bed his endless wonderings of you. but for as often as he turns his head to look at you, he finds you looking away from your own watching of him. the few, brief interactions he has with you over the next few days feel loaded, the desire and affection between you a palpable thing, and he’s tiring of pretending there’s nothing there anymore.

he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t miss you.

so, at the halfway point of the celebrations when there’s another, larger feast held with plenty of chances for dancing and sneaking away into dark corners, he makes it a point to keep an eye on you. the moment he spots you, finally alone, he beelines for you. your attention is on your necklace, readjusting the pendant that rests on your chest, and he cannot help but let his gaze linger on the swell of your breasts as he approaches. he’s found himself staring at your chest more often than is wholly appropriate over the last few days, but then he knows his own weaknesses when it comes to a woman’s form.

“p-prince jacaerys,” you greet weakly when you look up from your necklace, hands smoothing over the skirts of your dress. your eyes dart about the room as if seeking a rescue from someone, and he tries not to feel how such a response to his presence stings. “how are you enjoying the feast?”

“well enough,” he returns, echoing the words you’d spoke to him days ago. gods, has it only been days since that conversation? it feels like an age, and he has felt more distant from you in these passing moments than he is in your years apart.

“that is… good.” your fingers twist around each other, teeth catching on your bottom lip, and he has to swallow back the sudden rush of desire to be the one nipping at the pouting flesh.

“would you do me the honour of a dance, princess?”

his request startles you, eyes widening as your fingers drop back to your side in surprise. he thinks for a wild moment that you’ll say no, make some excuse to remove yourself from him, and he feels himself bracing for the rejection. but you hesitate, searching his face, and whatever you find there seems to soften something in you as you nod.

“of course.” you offer him your hand, an unsure smile on your face.

he takes it with relief, trying not to react at the sensation of your hand in his own. he was right in thinking your hands are smooth, but as he leads you to the dance floor and your fingers slide over his palm he feels the drag of callouses as he’d expected. it pulls him back into that heated imagining of before for a moment, and he has to shake his head slightly to keep himself from losing his wits.

you stay quiet as he guides you into position, dainty hand resting on his shoulder as he places his own at your hip. he leads you through the first few steps in quiet, too, taking the moment to enjoy having you in his arms, having you close. but he realises after a silent minute that you’re obviously not going to say anything, and even as he looks beseechingly at you appear to avoid meeting his eyes.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he speaks lowly, watching you carefully as you stare purposefully at the bridge of his nose instead of his eyes.

your eyes flicker away and back and then away again, fingers tightening around his own as he leads you through the steps of the dance effortlessly. “aye,” you admit quietly. “i have been.”

“why?” he doesn’t mean to sound so desperate nor so accusing, but the quiet hurt that your absence has caused him surges forth before jace can stop it.

you finally meet his gaze, eyes helpless and wanting and aching, and his stomach twists at the sight of your conflicted expression.

“i— jace, i can’t.” your voice cracks with the weight of your emotion and without thinking he pulls you closer, arm wrapping tight around your waist to provide you some semblance of comfort. “i can’t. not here, please.”

wordlessly he alters the steps of the dance, drawing you with precision through the crowd of dancers until you come to one of the balconies. it’s blessedly empty of anyone else, and as soon as you realise it some tension seems to shake loose of you.

you step out of his grip slowly, almost reluctantly, and walk to the railing, palms splaying on the stone. he joins you after the barest hesitation, drinking you in as you stare out at the courtyard and beyond. he notices how tightly you grip the banister, colour leeching from you knuckles with the strength of your grip, and almost without thinking jace rests his hand beside your own, pinkie fingers brushing. the touch seems to release something in you and he hears how your breath shudders before you speak.

“i embarrassed myself on the night of the welcome feast,” you confess miserably. “i drank too much, and the way that i behaved— staring at you in that way— it was not becoming behaviour of a princess, nor of a, a friend. i did not wish to make you uncomfortable again, so i thought it best i keep my distance from you.”

he blinks in surprise. “uncomfortable?” the mere idea of such a thing is maddening. he recalls the sight of you before him, lips parted and oh so kissable as you’d stared at him with such intention it had set him ablaze. how in the name of the gods can you think he found such a thing uncomfortable? “princess, i can assure you, the only feeling i took from your admiration is delight.”

your head snaps around, eyes finally meeting his own again, and he shakes his head in bemusement at the sight of your desperate hope. “truly? you do not jest?”

he resists the urge to chuckle, knowing you’ll take any kind of laughter, no matter how well meaning, poorly. instead he reaches for you, grasps your hands in his own and tries not to bask in the way you lean into him as he steps recklessly into your space. he feels your trembling breaths puff against his jaw as he ducks his head to stare intently into your eyes, and if he were a weaker man jace thinks he’d be on his knees in prostration for you in that very moment.

“surely you must know how i feel for you?” he murmurs, tracking the way the flush in your cheeks travels down your neck and onto your chest with greedy eyes. “how desperately i adore you?”

“jacaerys—.” you huff, shaking your head in denial for all that with every breath you take you sway ever closer to him. “we hardly know each other anymore. i won’t deny there is, is a yearning between us, mayhaps, but you cannot claim to adore me when you know me not. it’s been years since—"

“—do you think time matters?” he talks over you, strong in his conviction that you and he share a bond that transcends time or distance or duty. “that any distance between us could change what i know in my bones? i loved you before i had a name for it. i loved you when we were children and, yes, i love you again now. mayhaps i don’t know your favourite sweet or if you prefer to watch the sun rise or set, but i know you. i know who you are, princess, for all that i might no longer know the rest of it. i know your good heart, your quick mind and i know that i love you.” he hesitates, drinks in the dawning, open wonder on your face, and then adds, “and i think you might love me just the same.”

you sigh out his name sweetly, fingers tangling with his own as he squeezes your hands tenderly. you tilt your chin towards him as your eyes flutter shut. his nose slides against your own as you turn just so to the side, and your mouth is so close. he could kiss you, right now, and he knows that you would not pull away. but he’s too aware of the noise of the feast, the crowd of people that at any moment could find you in a compromising position.

he wants you, gods does he want you, but he will not ruin your reputation, will not sully your virtue for the sake of a stolen kiss on a balcony when he desires no less than forever with you.

“i will not push you,” he murmurs against your lips, breathing the air right from your lungs as he presses his forehead to yours for just a moment. “if you do not want this — if you do not return my feelings — i won’t push you nor pursue you. i hold too great a respect for you for that.” he cradles your jaw, thumb dragging at the corner of your mouth, and he glories in the way you shudder at his touch. with an unsteady breath he separates himself from you, hands clenching into fists at his side in an effort not to immediately reach for you again.

“but if you decide you want me as i want you, that you love me as ardently as i you, then my chambers will be unguarded and unlocked for you.” he sketches a bow, heart thundering in his chest as you stare at him in wordless shock. “i hope to see you later tonight, my princess.”

you have no chance to respond before jace leaves you standing on the balcony.

he leaves you with your mind swirling, one thought after another coming so quickly you have no hope in processing them. you’re glad to be outside, at least, the cool breeze helping soothe the heat that blazes through your veins as you press your hand over your racing heart. you don’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. all you can think about is jace, earnest and honest and in love with you.

he’s in love with you (!).

it’s too quick. too much time has passed with too little contact. in the years since he left court you’ve grown into new people, people who for all intents and purposes are strangers to each other. the lust is there, there’s no point in denying that with how your body warms at the smallest glance from him. and that old familiarity that blossomed as friendship as children and now into easy companionship as adults, that remains as it always has. and mayhaps you’ve thought to yourself, in the dark quiet of the night, that you’ll surely love him once more. that to know him any better at all is to love him again, because how can you know him and not love him?

but there’s been years and leagues between you for so long. time and distance have their ways of changing a heart, and he might say it doesn’t matter but it does. it does.

only it doesn’t, not at all, because giddiness is bubbling up in you so sudden that you cannot fight it, a helpless laugh escaping you as you press your hand over your mouth in unabashed amazement. your brave prince, plunging headfirst into the long-unspoken feelings between you. it incites you to act, drives you back into the hall where you catch aegon for long enough to tell him you’re retiring for the night before escaping into the quiet corridors.

you feel like your heart is going to burst in your chest, nerves and excitement and awe twisting together inside of you until you feel like you might vibrate out of your own skin. the walk to jace’s chambers is a haze, and in the morning you expect you’ll panic, wonder if anyone saw you walking so shamelessly towards the prince’s rooms. but now, in this moment, all you can think of is how fervently you want him, how guilelessly you love him.

the knock on his door — unguarded, as he had promised — echoes loudly in the silent corridor. you can hear your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as you wait for him to answer, and when he finally does he takes your breath away.

he’s shed his doublet and sword belt, standing in only his breeches and a billowing off-white tunic. the ties are loose on his neck and you’re entranced by the peek of tanned skin there, the freckles you can see disappearing beneath the shirt. he says your name, once, and your eyes snap back to him in time to see the relief and wonder coalesce into smouldering fire.

he curls his fingers around your wrist, thumb swiping over the delicate skin in a way that makes you shiver, and he uses the hold to wordlessly tug you into his chambers. you step into the space, eyes darting from the large bed to the roaring fire and back to the bed again as he locks the doors behind you.

you are finally, blissfully, alone.

you feel his presence behind you, heat and woodsmoke radiating from him as you turn to face him. something in your chest loosens at the blatant awe in his amber eyes, like liquid gold in the light of the flames, and before you can pause to think you’re speaking, your feelings escaping you in a flood.

“i shouldn’t be here,” you say shamelessly. “i know my being here is—. i shouldn’t be here. but i couldn’t not be, jace, not when you left without giving me a chance to tell you how i feel. because, gods, of course i feel for you. it’s unreasonable, insensible— there’s so much about each other we just don’t know anymore.” you shake your head, smiling at him wide and helpless and hopelessly, hopelessly in love with him. “but despite all the rationality in the world, all the good sense — despite knowing the trouble this is sure to bring us — i am completely and utterly in love with you, jacaerys velaryon.”

he kisses you, then, surges into your space and cups your cheeks and slots his mouth so sweetly against yours. you gasp into his lips as he kisses you deliberate, slow and tender in a way that makes your chest ache. your arms loop around his neck, pulling him as close as you can as his own arms wrap around your waist. your noses bump and your teeth clash in your eagerness and it’s still glorious, it’s the best kiss you’ve ever experienced because it’s him.

it’s always been him.

you part after a few minutes, remaining close together as he runs his hand through your hair before cradling your face once more. “tell me again,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing your breath.

“i love you,” you say, smiling so wide it makes your cheeks ache. “i love you, i love you, i lo—”

he kisses you again, a quick press of his mouth against your this time, and then he’s laughing softly as his golden eyes shine down at you. “i have loved you forever,” he tells you, indulgent and affectionate as his thumb traces over your cheek. “i will love you forever, my princess.”

he draws you closer still, holds you tightly against him but far enough that he can drink you in, and for long moments you simply bask in the presence of each other, of this slow unfurling of happiness in your heart. this close to him, you can once again see the freckles dotted across his face. without even thinking of it your hand rises, and with butterfly-gentle fingers you trace a path over the constellations mapped on sun-kissed skin. jace sighs softly with your touch, dark lashes fluttering closed as his lips part.

“iksā sīr gevie [you are so beautiful],” you murmur, slipping into high valyrian in the quiet of his chambers.

he exhales shakily, breath hitching in his chest as your fingers brush gently over his eyelids, the slope of his nose, the furrow of his brow. you want to remember him like this forever – bathed in the soft firelight, trembling beneath your tender touch, wholly and entirely yours.

“ñuha dārilaros [my princess],” he breathes, and hearing him speak possessively of you in your mother tongue ignites something within you so suddenly you cannot fight it.

arousal roars to life, deep in your belly, and you are helpless but to do anything but lean forward and press your lips to his once more. jace meets you just as greedily, hands gripping tightly to the flesh of your hips as he hauls you closer until your chests press together. your hand moves from his face to fist in his hair, tugging at his curls until he whines against your lips. he kisses you deep and open mouthed and filthy, tongue sliding against yours so deliciously that you can feel heat pulse between your legs.

one of his hands comes up to tangle in your hair, pulling until your head is tilted back. he trails hot, wet kisses along your neck and you hiss at the sensation, pressing his head closer to your skin. you feel him smirk against you before he mouths at your pulse point, teeth nipping just enough to send a thrill of pain and pleasure through you.

“jace,” you moan, grinding against him shamelessly as he sucks a bruise into the sensitive skin of your throat. you want him so fiercely it makes you reckless, makes you insatiable as the hand not buried in his curls drags down his back to grip at his ass. he groans against you, your name spilling from his lips so deep and husky that you want to do whatever you can to make him say it like that again and again and again.

“this is— we shouldn’t,” he says into your skin. he pushes at the shoulder of your dress to expose more of your bare skin to his greedy eyes, lips trailing the path his fingers have taken. “we should wait until we—. if anyone knew of this—”

“—no one will know,” you assure him, fingers flexing into the taut skin of his ass to drive him closer to you.

“i don’t want to, to besmirch your honour.” even as he speaks he’s dragging his tongue against your collarbone, chasing a bead of sweat down to the swell of your chest.

“fuck my honour,” you burst out, and your language has him moaning. you hitch your leg around his waist and his hand drops instantly to grip you at the knee, pulling you just so until the hard length of him is grinding deliciously against your core. you can’t think, can’t breathe, for wanting him. his touch and his scent and his taste consumes you, inflames you, and you care for nothing but the feel of him against you.

he pulls away from your chest, mouth swollen and pupils blown as he pants hotly. he presses his forehead to yours, squeezing your hip to still you as you shamelessly try to rub yourself against him. “this will bring ruin to you if it gets out, do you understand? it would break me to be the cause of such a thing.”

his desperation makes you hesitate, something about the fierce tone breaking into the haze of lust that consumes you. you take a moment to look at him, and you know with certainty that if you ask him to stop right this second he will.

but you don’t want him to stop. you’ve never wanted anything less.

“jace.” you cup his cheek, thumb dragging over his bottom lip as you force him to keep your gaze. “i know the risks of this as well as anyone.” you lean in closer, your nose sliding against his before you tilt your head to pepper soft, deliberate kisses along his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “i love you.” he sighs softly in pleasure before turning his head to capture your mouth again, and this kiss is a softer, slower thing.

when you break apart, you stare deeply into his eyes, making sure he can see the truth of your words. the heat in his amber eyes threatens to splinter you to pieces as you swallow thickly, almost overwhelmed once more with your desire for him.

“i am yours, jacaerys velaryon,” you say steadily. “no matter what happens from here— i belong to you.”

it’s like a dam breaks in him. his hands are suddenly everywhere as his mouth devours yours relentlessly, leaving you gasping and arching into his touch. he backs you towards his bed as his hands fist in your skirts, bunching the material up to your hips. he breaks from your mouth long enough to tug your dress over your head, leaving you in your thin small clothes, and despite the sweltering heat of the room your nipples harden beneath the sheer material.

“look at you, pretty thing,” he says reverentially, the weight of his heated gaze tangible as he stares at your heaving chest. “is this all for me?”

“yes,” you hiss, head tilting back as he trails kisses down the column of your throat. “all for you, jace. only ever for you.”

he groans at your words, deft fingers making quick work of the complicated stays of the brassiere, and when the material falls from you he stares for a long moment as if transfixed by the sight of your bare breasts. it makes you smug, knowing that those times you’ve caught his eyes lingering on your chest haven’t just been in your imagination.

“you are perfect,” he murmurs worshipfully, large hand cupping the side of your breast tenderly. “such a perfect girl for me.”

his thumb sweeps over your nipple, featherlight at first before returning more firmly when you sigh and lean into his touch. his other hand grips your hip once more, pulling you close to him as he lavishes more attention on your neck. he nips and kisses his way down your throat, your shoulder, the swell of your breast until he’s hunched slightly in front of you, sucking bruises into the tender skin of your chest.

“jacaerys, please.” you know not what you’re pleading for, only that you need something, and it’s as if he can read your mind as his mouth closes over your nipple. his hand, now free, gropes at your other breast as his tongue swirls tight circles around your nipple and your head tips back with a moan. it’s somehow enough and yet not, your hips bucking aimlessly as heat and slick pools between your legs, and you crave.

“more, please,” you beg shamelessly.

jace drops to the floor in response and the sight of him on his knees for you has your head spinning. he presses open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your abdomen, bites gently at your hip as his hands slide steadily up your legs. you tremble beneath his careful ministrations, and he murmurs wordless assurances into your sweat-slick skin.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your smalls, dragging them agonisingly slowly down your legs until you can step out of them. standing completely bare before him you expect to find yourself shy, but the way jace looks at you rapturously has liquid heat licking through your veins instead.

he leaves lingering kisses on your thigh and down your leg, and when his mouth brushes over the tender skin at the back of your knee you feel them buckle. he huffs a gentle laugh against you, warm hands cradling your waist as he urges you to sit back on the bed. you do so unsteadily, planting your hands against the soft feather mattress and watching him with intent ardour.

he nudges your legs apart and settles between them, his shoulders spreading you wide around him and you release a soft breath as his thumbs rub soothing circles into your thighs. “let me take care of you, my princess,” he pleads, eyes wide and soft and beseeching as he gazes up at you. you nod hesitantly, not wholly sure what he intends, but then his eyes finally drop to your core and darken so quickly it makes your mouth dry.

“gods, look at you.” he drags a finger through your folds and your head cants back, a whine escaping you at the touch. “you’re so wet for me, love. so gorgeous.” he brings his finger to his mouth, licking it clean of your slick and it has your mouth dropping open because he’s obscene, you think. he’s glorious.

“you taste so good,” he says, his voice so rough with arousal it makes you shiver. “wanna taste more of you.”

with no more warning that that, he licks a deliberate strip along your slit before circling his tongue over your clit. your hand shoots to his hair, tangling in the dark curls as he feasts on you. his name falls from your lips over and over again like a prayer as he laps at your core, tongue pressing deliciously inside you. you grind wantonly against his mouth, panting as he laves at your cunt.

your pleasure climbs sharply, rising so high you’re helpless to resist the way your stomach tightens. as if sensing your approaching high jace shifts his focus to your pulsing clit, flicking his tongue rapidly over the bundle of nerves.

“jace, gods, feels so good,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his curls to press his head impossibly closer. “please don’t stop, ‘m so close—”

he sucks harshly on your pearl, ever so carefully dragging his teeth over the sensitive flesh, and you fall to pieces as that tightly wound ball in your stomach snaps. he coaxes you through the trembling release, gentling his attention on you to drag out your pleasure until you’re squirming away from him in sensitivity. when he pulls away from your core his face is shining with your slick and the sight makes you feel feral. you bend to reach him and he presses up to meet you, kissing you hot and messy as you drink the taste of yourself from his mouth.

“you did so well for me, my princess,” he pants into your mouth as he crowds you onto the bed and the praise blooms hot in your chest. “need you to be good for me a little longer, okay? need to prepare you.”

you whimper, capturing his mouth in another sloppy kiss and nipping thoughtlessly at his lips as he settles between your legs. you can feel the heavy length of him against your hip, kept from you by his breeches, and you’re suddenly insensible with desire to see more of his skin. you tug wordlessly at the hem of his tunic, pulling it free from his trousers, and with a huff of fond amusement he separates from you to pull it over his head and toss it aside.

you drink in the exposed planes of his chest, leaning up to drag your tongue from freckle to freckle along his collarbone, and jace groans out your name in response. you follow the map of constellations down his chest, pressing kisses and gentle bites to the skin until you come to one of his nipples. hesitantly you flick your tongue out, curl it around the puckered skin just as jace had done to you earlier.

“fuck,” he hisses, fingers clenching in the sheets as his arms tremble with the strain of keeping himself steady above you.

emboldened by his response you lavish the pebbled bud with attention, switching to the other when the fancy takes you, until jace is shuddering with desire and pushing your shoulders back into the bed. he swallows your protests with a flurry of kisses as his fingers trail down your chest, your abdomen until he reaches the heat between your legs. he presses a finger against you again and you arch into the touch, tossing your head back into the pillows.

“i want you so badly,” he confesses in a whisper as he sucks another bruise into your neck.

“yes,” you respond senselessly, hips bucking up to meet the slow stroke of his finger. “want you, jace, please.”

“i need to prepare you first, love,” he tells you again and you whine in displeasure. “i don’t wish to hurt you, so i need to get you ready for me.”

you’ve heard that it can hurt, what happens in bed between a man and a woman. you can’t comprehend the idea with how good you feel right now, how good he’s made you feel already, but you nod in acquiescence at jace’s stubborn expression and he beams down at you.

“that’s my good girl,” he utters affectionately, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

the finger that’s been sliding leisurely against you shifts, pressing inside with a familiar stretch. you’ve touched yourself before, explored what pleasure you can draw from your own body in the late of the night. you don’t know if it’s different because it’s the angle or just because it’s jace, but the feeling of his finger pumping into you is so much better than anything you’ve managed with your own clumsy digits and you moan with the pleasure of it.

“you’re so tight,” he says in amazement, burning gold eyes staring down at you worshipfully. “can’t wait to be inside you, my princess.”

you moan at his filthy words, hips bucking into his touch as he presses a second finger into you. this one pinches more, makes it almost uncomfortable until jace starts to rub slow circles over your clit with his thumb. any discomfort melts into liquid pleasure as he mouths at your neck once more, fingers crooking inside of you just so until stars burst behind your eyes.

“fuck, jacaerys—”

he shushes you softly even as his eyes gleam with smug pride. he picks up the pace, now, fucking you with his fingers as your pleasure starts to climb once more. just when you start to feel like you can’t take it anymore he slides a third finger in, the stetch burning deliciously this time, and you come apart on his fingers with a strangled moan of his name. he doesn’t relent this time, though, even when you writhe helplessly beneath him; he just chases another release for you without giving you a chance to recover, and the thrill rises so quickly it almost makes it a little hard to breathe.

“just one more,” he soothes as you whine, pressing delicate kisses to the corner of your mouth as he drives his fingers into you relentlessly. “you’re doing so well. just one more for me.”

your third climax hits you so hard your back bows up from the bed, mouth parting in a silent cry of pleasure as jace coaxes you through it before pulling his fingers from you. you ache at the loss, mewling your displeasure as your cunt clenches around nothing. he breathes a laugh at your impatience, kissing you so sweetly in such contrast to the delicious heat between you that it almost makes you weep.

with shaking hands you reach for the ties of his breaches, fumbling with the laces while he kisses you languidly. you make a triumphant little noise when you finally untie them and he smiles at you, adoring and soft and yet somehow feverishly aroused as you push the leather trousers down his hips. he helps you the rest of the way, kicking them off before returning to hover over you.

your hands brush his abdomen as you reach for him, fingers curling gently around the hard line of his cock, and he realises a shuddering breath in response. he watches you intently as you stare at his arousal, fascinated by the way your fingers barely close around the thick girth of him. he’s going to fill you so well, you realise, and you bite your lip as your core clenches again. the tip of him is leaking fluid, and you drag your hand up his cock to swipe your thumb over the head.

jace moans at the movement, so you do it again and again, watching in inflamed curiosity at the way his stomach contracts as he thrusts into your hand, the wet noise of it making you flush down to your toes as desire sparks in your core. his hand covers your own abruptly, stopping your exploration, and you pout up at him as he fixes you with a blazing stare.

“if you keep doing that, i’m not going to last,” he says, voice shaking with the weight of his desire.

“fine.”

you huff, pretending at annoyance even as you eagerly lie back and spread your legs for him. you fix him with an expectant look, raising an eyebrow, and he chuckles fondly as he settles himself between your legs once more. you’re not expecting the velvet heat of him dragging against you and you gasp at the sensation, grinding against him as he thrusts shallowly against you.

“are you ready for me, love?” he checks, cradling your face in his hands as his thumb rubs over your jaw.

you turn to press a kiss against his palm, near overwhelmed with your love and affection for this man. “yes,” you say simply, and it’s all the permission he needs as he ducks down to kiss you unhurriedly.

his head catches at your opening on the next thrust, and with the slightest shift of your hips he’s pressing inside of you. the stretch of him burns, pinches, but just as he did with his fingers, he worms his hand between your bodies to drag circles over your clit. you do your best to relax, keeping your eyes fixed on his golden stare as he slides into you, agonisingly slow.

the whole while he keeps up a litany of praise, calling you good and precious and perfect as sweat beads along his forehead. when he’s finally fully sheathed inside you he stills his movements, kisses you hard and wanting as he thumbs at your pearl, and when you’re ready you tilt your hips. the stretch of him burns, still, but in a way that sets your skin alight as you cling to his shoulders.

he moans your name like a prayer, drawing away from you until the tip of his cock catches at your entrance once more, and this time when he sinks back in your eyes roll back into your head. he feels so good, stretching and filling you so completely that you’ve no room to think, to breathe, to do anything but take it as he thrusts into you. he buries his head in your neck, resting on his forearms as he plunges into you again and again and again, and between your own choked breaths and the sounds of skin against skin, you hear him muttering in high valyrian.

“sīr sȳz syt nyke, sīr ȳrda, sīr lōz. vēttan syt nyke. ñuha dārilaros, mirre ñuhon [so good for me, so tight, so wet. made for me. my princess, all mine].”

it drives you wild, his voice and his words and hearing him speak in valyrian combined with the exquisite torture of the slow drag of his cock inside you. it’s too much, not enough, and leaves you with nothing but the need to feel as much of him as you possibly can. your hands drag up and down his back, fingernails leaving raised red lines in their wake as you seek to be as close to him as you can bear.

“more, jace, gods, please, i need—”

he cuts you off with a hard thrust, your breath punching out of your lungs as he starts to drive into you harder and faster. it’s so good, so fucking good, but still not quite enough and you whine, seeking something you’re not sure you know how to verbalise.

“whatever you need, love. i’ll give you whatever you need.”

understanding your need even when you don’t, jacaerys rears up, grips your legs and presses your knees to your chest before bearing down on you. like this he reaches so deep it hurts in the most unbearably, searingly pleasurable way. and it’s perfect, exactly what you needed, feeling him so far inside you that it soothes you and ignites you and makes you ache all at once.

“y’feel so good,” you manage to slur out, head lolling as you lose yourself to the feel of him taking you apart so expertly. “so— fuck— so deep. so good, jace, so good.”

jace groans your name, pounding into you so hard and so deep that it’s unconscionable, has your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips buck up to meet him recklessly. your peak approaches again, searing heat blazing through you as you inch closer to another climax, and all you can do is whine and moan as he fills you over and over again. he starts to lose the thread of his rhythm as you clench around him, valyrian and common tongue mixing senselessly as praise spills from his lips.

“avy jorrāelan [i love you] my perfect girl, gūrogon nyke sīr sȳrī [take me so well], can’t get enough of you, hells, i love you, ao sagon ñuhon [you’re mine], my love, my princess, my queen, ñuha ābrazȳrys [my wife].”

you come so hard you see stars, walls pulsing around jace’s cock as he curses. he thrusts sloppily into you, chasing his own release and dragging out your own as you keen, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. he finds completion with a drawn out noise, seed spilling hot and thick inside of you as he lazily pumps his hips two, three more times before collapsing on top of you.

you press absent kisses to his temple, brushing back the sweat-soaked curls from where they’ve matted on his forehead as he shudders against you. you feel lethargic, body aching in the sweetest of ways as you fight to catch your breath. eventually the heavy weight of jace on top of you becomes uncomfortable and you squirm beneath him in protest. with a sigh he slides himself free of you, rolling over onto his back and wrapping an arm around you to pull you with him so that you sprawl over his chest.

you bury your smile into his neck, satisfaction settling bone-deep as his hand runs up and down your back idly. for long moments the two of simply lie together in the quiet, the only sound the rustling of the sheets and the crackle of the dying fire.

“i’ll speak to my mother and the king on the morrow,” he says into the quiet and you raise your head to look at him. he looks serious, amber eyes contemplative as he peers down at you. “i’ll not let another night pass without you as my betrothed.” he smiles at you then, a little crooked as his eyes crinkle, and without thought you reach up to press a lingering kiss to his mouth.

“i love you,” you say, eyes shining with mischief. “ñuha valzȳrys [my husband].”

jace swallows your laugh with another kiss, doing a poor job of hiding his own amusement as his smile presses to yours, and as the candles burn down you let all of your worries and doubts fade.

you love him. he loves you.

there’s nothing else that matters.

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys smut #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen smut #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys targaryen imagine #jacaerys targaryen fanfic #my writing

2K notes · View notes

theshadowrealmitself · 2 months

Text

Once again thinking about the great joy that is Peter Parker accidentally giving off villain vibes

Current thoughts on that rn are some heroes trying to figure out some horrifying tech Oscorp has been putting out that’s going to cause so much catastrophe and through a series of events, Peter Parker gets pulled in to look at it

Peter just looks at it and immediately recognizes it and goes on this long winded speech about the beauty of the tech while everyone gets more and more uncomfortable

It eventually comes out that he personally worked on the original prototype before getting let go from Oscorp, and everyone’s tensing, thinking they’re about to have to fight a crazed scientist who wants this tech to go out, and they ask him why he was let go

Peter: Oh, because this tech is waaay too dangerous, I urged Norman to drop the project completely, even tried to get HR involved, but got fired instead, I mean, y’know, on paper they put a totally different reason to cover themselves, but it was obviously cause I went to HR 🙄

#it’s just so fun to me #Peter Parker #Spiderman #spider man #spider-man #made up dialogue by yours truly #norman osborn #Oscorp

784 notes · View notes

everyonewooeverywhere · 8 months

Text

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ mechanic!mingi x f!reader

synopsis ✭ when a random girl keeps shamelessly flirting with mingi, despite his many attempts to ward her off, he needs a knight dressed his own sweater and a black mini skirt to fend her off.

content/genre ✭ smut (18+ MDNI)

word count ✭ 2.5k

warnings ✭ smut, please MDNI (seriously), clothed sex (mostly), on top of his car (🫣), fingering, minor jealousy (from mc), spanking, despite the title there's really no dom/sub dynamic (just mc trying to protect her man)

✭✭✭✭

You noticed her immediately when you pulled your car into the shop. Of course you did, she was chatting it up with your boyfriend with a hand reaching out to grab his arm. He pulled back in obvious disinterest, but it irked you nonetheless that another woman was after your man. You knew him well enough to know that he’d definitely told her he had a girlfriend. Despite this, she certainly seemed to think that she was his type. With her grease-stained cargo pants and tight tank top you could tell she worked with cars just like him.

So what the fuck did she need here? You wondered to yourself.

You hadn’t yet gotten out of the car and continued to watch them from a distance when someone knocked on your window. Yunho grinned down at you from outside the car. You waved at him, slightly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring so intently at the sight in front of you. He gave you a friendly wave as you stepped out of the car.

When you got out of the car, you saw her give you a glance over and roll her eyes. Oh you were gonna fucking lose it. It was obvious from the way she had looked at you that she was judging your appearance, and you got the vibe that she would give you the same treatment that most other men you give you if you came to them with a car problem. Like you were some stupid little girl who would be easy to upsell. Did you know anything about cars, not really, but you had a sexy mechanic boyfriend to do that shit for you so what was the need?

“She’s been here every day this week,” Yunho informed you, clearly aware of your annoyance toward the woman giving bedroom eyes at Mingi, “claims something different is wrong every time she comes in, but when she gets here everything works fine. Then she never leaves. She’s luck it’s been a slow week, or he would have fully lost it by now”

You scoff quietly, “have you tried to ‘help’ her?”

“Yes,” he sighs, “but she always dodges my help and finds a way to drag him back over.”

Of course she does.

“Anyway, is anything wrong with your car?”

“Of course not,” you laugh, “but, if you wanna take a look, be my guest.”

Yes, you were fully aware of the irony of you and this woman having identical motives when pulling your cars into the shop, but at least you were always a welcome surprise who didn’t go around trying to sleep with other people’s boyfriends.

“Sure. I’ll look,” Yunho grabbed your keys from you. “Um, by the way, I can tell you he certainly wouldn’t mind if you went over and saved him. You know, assert your dominance.”

That line made you giggle. You brushed out your black mini skirt and checked your lip gloss in the side mirror of your car. Luckily, you were feeling incredibly cute today, in your possibly too short skirt and sweater that totally belonged to your boyfriend. The heels on your feet were a gift from him as well, and you always felt sexy hearing the sound they made when you walked. And that was the noise they made as you made your way over to them.

She saw you first. “I’m sorry, can we help you? Isn’t he helping you out?” She asked, clearly annoyed, pointing her finger at Yunho who was checking out your tires. Clearly trying to ward you off, and you got the idea that she knew exactly who you were.

Her acknowledgment of you though, made Mingi turn around. Finally seeing you for the first time since you’d stepped foot in his shop today. He was visibly relieved as he took a step toward you, “hey baby, I didn’t realize you were coming in today.”

He grinned when you placed a manicured hand on his chest. He wouldn’t bring it up now, but he fucking loved when your jealous side came out. And he knew that this specific touch’s purpose was to stake your claim.

“I missed you,” you sighed, stepping closer, “you’ve been so busy this week, and I haven’t seen you at all.”

His hands found your waist and pulled you all the way into him, “I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, “I've had a lot of customers waste my time this week, and I just can’t catch a break.”

You giggle as the girl next to you scoffs, “Wow Mingi, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was so,” she eyed you up and down again but, before she can finish what was bound to be a wonderful insult, you cut her off.

“Oh so you knew he had a girlfriend and were still all over him like a bitch in heat.”

She laughed at you, "he doesn't mind. Right, Min? Sorry sweetheart, you're not as special as you might think. Maybe, he needs someone a little more real, not some plastic bitch who doesn't even know how to change her own tires."

Sensing that you were about to fully unleash yourself onto this fucking cunt, Mingi put a soothing hand on your shoulder and spoke sternly, “Get out.”

She gaped at him, “Wha-”

“You can fucking fix your car yourself, if there’s even anything wrong with it, but make sure you see Yunho on your way out. He’ll charge you before you leave.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. You’ve wasted a lot of fucking time for me this week with your perfectly fine car. My time is precious, and since you wasted it, I'm gonna need you to pay up.”

He looked back over at your car, “Yunho, please deal with this.”

The other man’s shoulders slumped, clearly not keen on dealing with this woman, but he made no effort to argue. You made a mental note to bring him lunch next time you came in to make up for it.

Mingi grabbed the hand that’s still on his chest and leaned down to your ear, “come with me.”

✭✭✭✭

“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much baby,” he breathed into you neck as he placed kisses on it.

You smiled and placed a hand in his hair, gripping lightly onto his dark hair, “I’ve missed you, too.”

You were in the back of the shop, where Mingi kept his own car. You didn’t know the make or the model, but you knew it was a sexy car. And you were well acquainted with it. From it pulling up outside your apartment for the occasional lunch date. To late nights in the backseat when you both knew you couldn’t make it to a bed. And then to moments like these. Days in the shop where your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to see you all on display for him on top of the hood.

“Why didn’t you tell me someone was bothering you, Min?” you pouted as his hands fiddled with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“Oh, y/n I can handle myself, baby, you don’t need to worry yourself with stuff like that.”

Sighing, you placed a hand on his cheek, “you know I just wanna help and be there for you. Will you at least tell me next time?”

“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up. I promise I’ll tell you next time. Ok?”

You nodded as you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, pulling him back down to your lips. His hands started wandering as the two of you explored each other’s mouths. He removed a hand that was tangled in your hair and caressed your neck. His mouth followed the hand, leaving plenty of dark spots all over your pretty neck.

When he reached for the hem of the sweater you were wearing, you grabbed at his hand, “I don’t wanna get naked in here.”

And you really didn’t. As much as you loved your boyfriend, getting fully undressed anywhere but the bedroom was a line you very rarely crossed. Especially in a place as unkempt and naturally messy as the shop he spends most of his days in. You were a woman of at least a little class, but keeping your clothes on didn’t mean that sex was off the table. Not at all, actually.

“Ok, love,” he moved his hands to fiddle with the edge of your skirt, “it’s a good thing you wore such a tiny skirt today then, right?”

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress your smile, “you can take my panties off if you really want to, though.” You said through a whisper.

He didn’t need any convincing because in the next moment he’d slipped your panties off your legs and put them in his pocket. His hands were under your skirt now. One gripping your waist and holding you in place. The other teasingly stroking your inner thigh.

“Mingi, please,” you begged breathily, desperately trying to shift closer to his hand, but the other one on your waist was completely preventing that.

He smirked at your desperation, “patience, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

As a man of his word, his thumb brushed your clit, and you let out a whine when he pushed two fingers into you. He worked over your clit with his thumb as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“Oh, Min–” you moaned and gripped his shoulders tight.

The hand from your waist moved to grab your throat as he leaned close to your ear, “God, baby, you moan so pretty for me. You’ll let me know when you’re close, yeah?”

You could barely get out a breath “yes” before he slid another finger into your already soaking cunt. Your grip on his shoulders tightened. Wrapping a leg around his back, you arched your back, trying every option to get as close to him as possible. You lost all control of your hips and ground yourself into his hand in sync with his own movements.

When you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, you whined, and your eyes fluttered shut, “I’m close! So close.”

“Let go for me baby. I got you.”

As you reached your climax, you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Good girl,” his lips reached your own as you came down from your high. He pulled you off the hood of his car and set you on the ground. He looked you up and down, admiring you fully. He lifted a hand to caress your face and his thumb brushed over your cheek. Smiling, he said, “you always do so good for me baby. Turn around for me, yeah?”

You turned around quickly, eager for what you knew was coming next. Without him even having to ask, you leaned over the hood of his car. Giving him just the view he wanted. His hands were quick to flip up your skirt and smooth his hands over your ass. He gripped one cheek in his hand, and you braced yourself on your forearms. When he let go, you wiggled your ass and looked back over your shoulder. Challenging him with your eyes.

He brought his hand back down on your ass, slapping it. When you let out an obvious and loud moan, he smirked and leaned down over you, “you’re so fucking impatient baby, are you really so worked up? Let me help you out. Does that sound good?”

“Please, Mingi,” you begged (god he loved when you couldn’t stop begging), “I need you!”

“Where do you need me, baby?”

“Inside,” you moaned when he slapped your ass again.

“You want my cock, baby?” You could hear him unzipping his pants and the rustle of fabric behind you. Fucking finally.

All you could do was nod desperately and look back at him over your shoulder with begging eyes. He couldn’t fucking hold it together when you gave him those eyes. So desperate and needy that he could almost see tears. And the pout on your lips was the cherry on top.

You braced yourself again when he gripped his hips with one hand. When he finally pushed into you, you moaned out softly.

With one hand gripping your waist hard enough to bruise and the other playing with your clit, he thrust into you. His car shook, and you struggled to hold yourself up but, god, it felt so good. After a week of missing him constantly, you couldn’t think of anything but how full you felt with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself, either from telling you how good you felt.

Shit, baby, you just keep getting wetter.

You just love it when I fill you up like this, don’t you?

Oh, you’re close, baby. I can feel you closing around me so good.

Fuuuuck, god angel I’m almost there. Can I fill you up?

“Yes, yes, yes, please!” you cried. Your loud and pornographic moans bounced off the walls as you reached your climax.

He followed soon after, filling you to the brim. You felt so warm and flushed. Your eyes fluttered in post-orgasm bliss. Panting, he flipped you back over onto your back and helped you sit up. He kissed you one more time, “thank you for coming to visit.”

“Of course,” you laughed softly, “I mean if you reward me like this everytime, then I’ll just come in every day like that bitch earlier, but I can’t promise I’ll pay you for your time.”

“Oh baby, you being here is enough, and your pretty pussy is the perfect payment,” he moved a finger back down to your core and pushed his cum back inside of you.

“Mmmm,” you ran hand through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, “as much as I’d love to go again, you closed an hour ago, and Yunho’s probably waiting for you to lock up.”

Mingi groaned as he finished putting his pants back on. He lifted you off the car, “can I have my panties back please?” You reached a hand out to him.

“Oh,” he laughed as he reached into his pocket to give them back to you.

✭✭✭✭

“Did she leave?” Mingi asked his friend who was finishing up putting new tires on your car. So maybe you actually did need something done with it.

The other man laughed, “oh she left alright. She tried to stick around, but when she heard you two having fun back there she took off. Kinda felt bad for her honestly.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his sympathy even though you felt an immense sense of satisfaction at knowing you had fended her off so easily. You had “asserted your dominance” to quote Yunho.

Mingi placed a hand on your lower back, “don’t worry baby, we won’t be seeing her for a while.” He turned to Yunho, “You can go man, I’ll finish locking up. Thanks for your help.”

“Good night man, have fun locking up.” Clearly implying that you might distract him from such a task.

When Yunho was gone, it was only seconds before you were backed into the back door of your own car, and Mingi reached around you to open the door. “Get in, baby.”

You could only giggle as you climbed in, pulling him in after you by the collar of his t-shirt. When he shut the door behind him, he leaned over you, “just one more. Ok, baby?”

“Ok,” you responded breathlessly. Knowing full well you would be under him in your bed soon enough.

✭✭✭✭

note ✭ thank you for reading. i'm trying my best over here, but university is kicking my ass. so i appreciate you reading what is essentially a coping mechanism 😀🥲

also this was so nerve racking to post so SEND ME VALIDATION (if you want 😙)

srsly though, thanks for reading! feel free to lmk what you think. reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

have a wonderful day!

mwah~

#mingi smut #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #atz x reader #mingi x reader #18+ mdni #mdni #everyonewooeverywhere #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dj's work

1K notes · View notes

call-me-strega · 2 months

Text

Dc x Dp Prompt #24: The Midwest Prince(ss)

Danny is a Singer/Siren/Banshee au where he’s basically a Chappel Roan-type figure.( Also, I'm Dead on Main trash so Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Celebrity x Civilian romance for two of my favorite boys)

Danny’s Ghostly Wail develops into vocal manipulation bc he’s a siren or banshee. Ember teaches him to sing and control the power. He finds music is a good outlet for his emotions and decides to pursue music as Danny. It takes him a few years but he develops a style and brand that he bases off the Realms. However, he doesn’t anyone to connect him to Phantom so he uses parts of his ancestors’ names to become “Walker Gale”(shout out to my beautiful mutual @mirigold-mayflowers for helping me pick that name), ordinary small-town midwestern boy turned Music Icon. He hires Val as his personal bodyguard, Sam as his manager, and Tucker as his head stage tech.

He dresses in really campy clothes the low-key mimic his ghost form as well as other ghosts he’s met. The outfits change to match the vibe of the song. So a rock ballad with an outfit inspired by Ember, Show Tunes-Murder Mystery-type-beat with a costume for Amorpho, EDM-techno-hyperpop themed song styled after Technus or Skulker, etc. He just has a lot of fun experimenting with his appearance and he’s an icon for it. He even makes friends with Star and Paulina through this and they give him feedback and help with new looks. The eventually join the team as his PR and Styling team.

Since he’s a banshee/siren all his songs have this underlying despair/sadness even if they have a fun and bubbly beat. He also references his feelings about being/hiding as Phantom and being partially dead and shit but vaguely so no one actually knows or assumes it’s a metaphor. Many of the themes are actually things lgbtq people identify with, specifically trans and bi fans. He also references battles he’s fought and ppl assumes he’s talking about mental illness or abuse which attracts another category of fans altogether. Again inspired by Chappel Roan his first album his called "The Ascent and Downfall of a Midwest Prince" gaining him the nickname the "Midwest Prince".

He’s weird and unfiltered and full of emotion and he gains a few fans in the hero community too. Raven and Zatanna start a fan club for him, well aware he’s some type of banshee/siren but knowing that the extent of his powers are being used to deliver beautiful performances. The are staunch supporters of him and his music and spread it to their friends. The current fan club is Co-Presidents Zatanna + Raven, VP Greta(Secret, a.k.a: a ghost hero), Starfire, Bart, Cassie, Tim, Kon + Jon, Steph, Cass, and Billy.

His identifying features are a signature make-up look and white underdye (when the color is on the underside of the hair). He’s grown his hair longer so it’s not super visible when he has it down and not styled. He also looks different without make-up so he can totally go unrecognized in public and live life semi-normal (as normal as a half-ghost vigilante powerhouse superstar can be). He actually planned it to be that way so that he could still go to college and stuff even though he’s doing it mostly online. All this to say that Danny has low-key got a Hannah Montana thing going on. Also, let's mix it up a bit and say he's based in Star City.

One day Danny goes to a second-hand book store because he's looking for a cheap textbook when he bumps into an absolute hunk of a man who doesn't seem to recognize him. Jason had been in Star City to visit Roy and Lian. He stopped at a second-hand bookstore to see if he look for some older editions of books (one time he found a second edition copy of Persuasion so he likes to peruse) and ran into a super pretty boy who made his chest feel funny and doesn't realize he's a Wayne. They got to talking about started really connecting. They decided to exchange numbers and kept in touch, meeting up every now and then when they had the chance. Danny gave him his private social media accounts so Jason never learned much more beyond that Danny worked in the music industry but not his exact role in it.

Eventually Danny moves to Gotham, either bc he switched labels or to be closer to Jazz whose doing her doctorate thesis on reforms that need to be made in Arkham. He and Jason begin meeting up in person more frequently and start catching feelings. Danny really wants to ask him out but feels sleazy doing it without telling Jason about his past and superstar alter ego. However, he also doesn't want to lose the mostly normal friendship they have. On the flipside Jason wants to date Danny but doesn't want to drag him into the life of a vigilante or the life of a Wayne. Both of them Pine and Agonize over this. In the end Danny decides to bite the bullet and tell Jason who he is, every part of who he is. He invites Jason over for a movie night and tells him he's got something important to tell Jason.

That same day Starfire decides to introduce Walker Gale's work to the other Outlaws and Jason really resonates with his work. He identifies with the lyrics on a literal and physical level and recognizes the underlying emotions that usually only other ghosts or liminals can. Starfire overjoyed that her friend likes his music decides to show Jason some of his music videos and photos. Jason, not being blind or an idiot, recognizes not only the props and costumes but his crushes face under that (very well done) make-up.

Jason is stunned and conflicted: it’s not like Danny lied to him about who he was, but he was entirely truthful either. Did he assume Jason knew? Or did he just not trust Jason? Why did he even bother with Jason, a seemingly regular guy, if he had such a claim to fame? And Jason keeps listening to his music and it’s speaks to him the same way hanging out with Danny does, making him feel seen and connected. It makes him all the more sure that someone incredible as Danny doesn’t need someone like Jason. He heads to Danny’s place that night very subdued.

He gets to Danny’s place and the smile that greets him twists him up inside. He puts on a mask and tries to act normal but Danny can tell somethings up but persists as he has made up his mind to be clear with Jason. He sits him down and tells him there is something important he wants to tell Jason. He starts by letting Jason know that he cares about him very much and appreciates the normality and closeness of their friendship. He confesses that he doesn't normally get that bc well, he's the superstar "Walker Gale". Danny goes onto say that the reason he didn't say anything earlier was because he treasures the simplicity of what he had with Jason and the reason he's telling him now is because he couldn't continue a relationship that he wants more from without being completely honest.

Jason's heart thunders in his chest and he stares at Danny with a slightly constipated look. Danny asks Jason what's wrong and on an impulse Jason word vomits his feelings. That he actually found out through a friend earlier today, that he really connected to his music the same way he did with Danny, that he's never felt seen the way Danny sees through him, that he's never felt the same way as deeply before, that he's completely and utterly in love with Danny but was scared to say anything and get him involved with his crazy life and the Waynes. And Danny sits and listens shellshocked.

And the only thing Danny can think to do is kiss this incredible boy senseless and tell him that if he likes him back then they can figure it out.

#siren/banshee au #singer danny fenton #famous danny fenton #danny is hannah montana #his superstar-sona is called Walker Gale #heavily inspired by Chappel Roan #jason todd #danny fenton #dc x dp #dead on main #strangers to friends to lovers #boys in love #After they figure their shit out Jason hangs out back stage at Danny's concerts #He introduces him to his family and Tim recognizes him and screams “Walker Gale” slamming his hands on the table #he's freaking out bc a famous popstar just walked into his dining room holding hands with his brother #half Jason's siblings spend diner fangirling over his boyfriend #he gets the status of biggest/number 1 fan though #the hero community fan club is frothing at the mouth over their relationship #Zatanna and Raven refuse to give up co-president status so Jason settles for co-vp with Greta #Danny's friends also scream when they meet Jason bc the recognize him as a Wayne #Their relationship is like if Kylie Jenner was dating Chappel Roan?? Basically???#do you get the vision???#Strega's dc x dp prompt

501 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 2 months

Text

Popular boys? Overrated ♡ (masterlist)

Urban Dictionary:

♡ Popular boy: Annoying assholes who think making fun of other people makes them cool. ♡ Overrated: When something or someone becomes too popular than others, and is given more credits than it deserves to be.

♡ Synposis: University? Stressful. Assignments? Too many. Social life? Above par. Boys? Disgusting. Popular boys? A total and complete headache. Sex? Optional. Sleep? Not so optional. But really...what are you supposed to do when you've got a hot guy up your ass begging for your attention? Nothing much but give in to him.

↳ Follow the two separate stories of our protagonists as they maneuver their lives at University while trying to avoid the two nefarious popular boys, Seonghwa and Yunho.

♡ Author: bvidzsoo

♡ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader; Jeong Yunho x female reader

♡ Rating: nc-17

♡ Genre: 90's rom-com; University!au; Popular guy!au; Sports!au

♡ Status: on-going

🎧Playlist🎧

♡ Park Seonghwa ♡

📝Sugar on my lips: ˗ˏˋ First assignment ★ Second assignment ★ Third assignment ˎˊ˗

Summary: Besides looking pretty and acting dumb, popular boys were good for nothing else. Park Seonghwa, who you've known for over a year now, wasn't an exception. Obnoxious, eccentric, and a peacock, he seems to have an affinity of getting on your nerves. But when coincidentally you get paired up for an assignment, you happen to discover a different side of him. Is it possible you have misjudged him?

✫☼☾☁ ❝𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲…𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠.❞ ☁☾☼✫

♡ Visual Board ♡

♡ Jeong Yunho ♡

🎭Under the pretense: ˗ˏˋ First act ★ Second act ★ Third act ˎˊ˗

Summary: What was supposed to be the best time of your life turned into something more bizarre and only slightly fun. Don't get me wrong, having to share your theater class out of the blue with popular guy Jeong Yunho, to most, didn't sound like the worst idea, but to you...yeah, you would've been more grateful if the principal found other methods of punishment for her son's misbehavior.

꧁༺ ❝𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.❞ ༻꧂

♡ Visual Board ♡

A/N: Weeell, hellooo, surprise?? Total random idea with the most random plots, but here I stand before you, presenting two separate stories which happen in the same universe. They can most certainly be read as standalones, but fyi I will post them by jumping from Seonghwa's story to Yunho's and then back and forth. I most certainly will not start their stories until I'm done with my Mingi rockstar series, which will take a few more weeks, sorry for making you wait but...priorities. As you can see, I have a playlist that I will be updating with songs that remind me of our girlies, our main characters, as they will be girlbossing in their respective stories lol. I hope I'll be able to pull off the 90's romcom vibes, don't be too hard on me if I fail lol <3

Taglist is open and you can leave a comment on this post, please specify if you're interested in both Seonghwa and Yunho's stories, or if in only one of them! Kisses and I hope I have piqued your interest! <3 divider

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg

@kyeos4ng @samiiy20 @woosanhobros @aswho1estuff @khjoongie98

@ateez-main-yapper @kang-ulzzang @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ginger-mingi @redzie02

@unholywriters @autieofthevalley @roomsofangel @peachyy-joonie @baeksofty

@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

459 notes · View notes

mechaknight-98 · 9 days

Text

Trepidation (NSFW) FT Dahyun

Operator’s notes: Ah yes I remember why Dubu was my first biases. It's always weird coming to your first and confronting who you were and what you used to be. As I grow she will always have a soft spot in my heart and can be written about any time.

"Are you not wearing a bra either?" I ask noticing that her breasts look extra perky under the dress. Dahyun smirks, and I respond.

"When you get home tonight I am going to fuck you all over." Dahyun smiles. She turns around and lifts the dress just enough so I can see her pale bare ass, and I really have to fight the urge to just pound her glistening pussy until she screams my name again and again.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." She coos. I smile as I remember how different we are.

"What happened to the good Christian Girl I met at bible camp?" I tease.

"She's still in here, it's just you know things change baby." she asserts, "What about the devoted Christian boy I met at bible camp? When did he become this insatiable writer and musician?" I chuckled and said

"When the world burned."

She smiled as she left for her fashion show. I sat at the chair's desk as I was considering my next move. Do I wait for Dubu to get home and run the risk of being disgustingly horny for her? Or do I enjoy the city and get her something I know she'd appreciate? The latter won out. I left our little temporary abode to explore the city.

"Sorry I couldn't invite you." was the text I got 45 minutes later with a picture. I considered opening it but knew it would be a bad idea. She had always been the excitable type. Easy to laugh with and around. Always pushing boundaries but for the right reasons.

It reminded me of when I met her for the first time all those years ago.

I wasn’t expecting much from the summer camp, to be honest. Just another week of bonfires, awkward icebreakers, and singing along to acoustic guitars under the stars. It did get me out of the last major week of preseason workouts for football so I took it. I had signed up at the last minute and was dragged into it by my youth group friends who seemed way more excited about spending a week in the middle of nowhere than I was.

But I was, sitting on the worn wooden benches, squinting in the early morning sun as campers trickled in. That’s when I saw her—this girl with bright eyes and a smile that seemed too wide for her face. She was laughing, chatting with a group of kids near the front. Something about her stood out like she didn’t fit the usual camp vibe. She was small, but her energy was huge.

I noticed her before I even realized it. She was the kind of person you couldn’t help but notice.

And then, as if it was nothing, she caught me staring.

Before I could look away, she waved. Not the polite, distant kind of wave you give to strangers, but the full-on, excited wave you grant when you see an old friend across a crowded room. Except I had never seen her before in my life.

She started walking toward me. I felt my stomach do this weird flip, like she was a celebrity or something, though she definitely wasn’t. At least, not yet.

“Hey!” she said when she got close, her voice carrying this bright, chirpy tone. “I’m Dahyun. Is this seat taken?”

I blinked, not sure why she was choosing to sit with me when she clearly had a whole squad already. “Uh, no, go ahead.”

She dropped down onto the bench next to me, folding her legs under her in a way that looked way too comfortable for the stiff, splintery wood. She turned to face me fully, her wide smile still there, like she was genuinely excited to talk to a total stranger.

“I’m—uh—" I stammered, completely thrown off by how forward she was. “I’m, uh, Daiju.”

She held out her hand for a shake like this was a formal introduction or something. I took it awkwardly, and she gave it a firm shake, way more confident than I’d ever been.

“So, what brings you here, Daiju? Just trying to survive the week like the rest of us?” She laughed, and it was this carefree, musical sound that made it impossible not to smile back.

“Pretty much. My friends kind of forced me into it. I’m not really… you know, the camp type.”

She tilted her head, studying me for a second, and then shrugged. “Yeah, same. My church sent me. I usually just hang out on the piano during stuff like this, but they said I had to get out more. Make friends.” She wiggled her fingers in the air, as if "making friends" was a strange concept.

“You play piano?”

Her eyes lit up, and for a split second, I saw a different side of her—like she was picturing something far beyond the camp, something she was passionate about. “Yeah, a little. And I sing. You know, just for fun.”

“That’s cool. I, uh, I can’t really do either,” I admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. “I tried guitar once, but I’m pretty hopeless.”

Dahyun laughed again, nudging me with her elbow. “Well, you’ll get plenty of practice this week. Trust me.”

I wasn’t sure what it was about her, but something told me she was right. That week was going to be different. Something about her made everything feel like it mattered more than it did before.

And that was just the first ten minutes. The rest of the week was a blur as I got to know Dahyun more. When I wasn't with my youth group I was with her in the instrument room listening to her play the piano. During one of these sessions, she noticed that I was always tapping a beatline to whatever she would play. She had me go to the drums and handed me two sticks before saying. "Don't speak. Don't think. Feel" Confused I sat next to the drums under her patient gaze. I had grown quite fond of that particular look and felt. I started with a simple beat of drum you stomp then started hitting the big circle drum on the right, then incorporated the other kick one that had the cymbals attached. Dahyun was amazed.

"I knew it. You do have talent," she said as she scurried back to the Piano. She started playing again and I adjusted my beat to match or better align with her melody. as I jammed with her for that moment. I felt at peace and that this was where I was supposed to be and who I was fated to be with. After our little Jam session, I noticed both of our youth groups were watching. They were shocked.

"Daiju you can play the drums?" Josiah asked

I shook my head as I got up, Dahyun called for me and I turned around she had the biggest smile before she ran over to me and said, "Don't let your heart lose itself." I smiled and said

"I won't," I said with weak confidence.

Taken out of my Little trip down memory lane I found myself at our favorite restaurant, before heading back to our home.

When I arrived I set the food down and went to the drum kit next to the piano, and I began to play.

Dahyun came home tired but when she heard me playing the drums her heart soared. It had been quite some time since she last heard me play.

It reminded her of the last year before she entered to be a trainee with JYP.

It had been a few months since the camp ended, and life had gone back to its usual rhythm. School, homework, and hanging out with friends. But something had stuck with me from that week—the memories of late-night talks with Dahyun by the campfire, the way her voice sounded when she hummed along to the guitar, and the fact that, out of all the people there, we stayed in touch.

We hadn’t spoken much in a couple of weeks, so when my phone lit up with a video call from her, I couldn’t help but smile. I tapped to answer, and there she was, her face filling the screen, that same bright grin instantly bringing me back to the camp.

“Daiju!” she greeted, using the nickname she had started calling me for no reason other than it made her laugh. “What’s up?”

“Not much, just the usual grind. You?”

She leaned back in her chair, her face slightly dimming as the light from her screen flickered on her features. “Yeah, same here. Well… sort of.”

I raised an eyebrow, picking up on the hesitation in her voice. “Sort of?”

Dahyun bit her lip like she was trying to decide whether to say something. Then she sighed, leaning in closer to the camera. “Okay, I’ve got something to tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Freak out? Now I’m intrigued,” I said, leaning forward as if that would bring me any closer to whatever she was about to say. “What’s going on?”

She laughed nervously, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Alright, so… you remember how I told you I sing, right? And play piano?”

“Yeah, of course. You were basically the camp’s unofficial performer.” I grinned, remembering how she’d turned every free moment into an impromptu concert, even if it was just humming some random tune. “Why?”

She paused and then let out a deep breath. “So, this is kinda crazy, but… I got scouted. Like, to be a singer. For real.”

For a moment, I thought I’d misheard her. “Wait, what? Like, scouted as in…?”

“As in, someone from a company heard me sing during this church event back home, and they think I have potential. I’ve had a couple of meetings already.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke, the excitement mixing with nervous energy. “I might actually become a trainee for this K-pop company. It’s still early, but… it’s real, Daiju.”

I stared at her through the screen, trying to wrap my head around what she just said. “You’re serious? Like… K-pop? Like the stuff you hear on the radio?”

She nodded, a huge smile spreading across her face. “Yeah. I know, it’s insane, right? I didn’t believe it at first either, but they’re really interested in me. They want to train me—vocals, dance, the whole package.”

I blinked, trying to imagine her in that world—the girl I met at camp, the one who was always so down-to-earth, suddenly living this intense, high-pressure life as a potential star. “Wow… that’s incredible, Dahyun. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Me neither, honestly,” she said, laughing. “I mean, I’m excited, but it’s kind of scary too. Like, I’ve always loved singing, but this is next level. The whole training thing is intense. It’s not just fun anymore—it’s serious.”

I could see the mixture of excitement and fear in her eyes. I knew she was capable, but the reality of that life was overwhelming, even to think about.

“What do your parents think?” I asked, still trying to process everything.

“They’re supportive, but they’re worried, you know? I mean, it’s a huge commitment. If I go through with this, it’s going to change everything.”

I nodded, understanding the weight of what she was saying. “Yeah, I get that. Do you want to do it?”

She went quiet for a second, her eyes drifting off-screen like she was looking for the answer somewhere in her room. Then she smiled softly, a different kind of smile—one that felt more certain, more grounded. “I think I do. I mean, it’s scary, but it feels like an opportunity I can’t pass up. I’ve always wanted to do something with my music. And now… maybe I can.”

I watched her, feeling a strange mixture of pride and anxiety. It was amazing to see her chasing her dreams, but a part of me worried about what would happen to her—what would happen to us—once she stepped into that world.

“Well, whatever happens, I know you’ll be amazing,” I said, meaning every word. “You’ve got this, Dahyun. I mean, I knew from camp that you were going to do something big. This is just… huge.”

She smiled again, this time more relaxed. “Thanks, Daiju. That means a lot. I’ll keep you updated, but… if this works out, things might get really crazy.”

“I can handle crazy,” I said, grinning. “Just don’t forget about your campfire singing buddies when you’re famous.”

She laughed, the sound filling the call with warmth. “I could never forget you guys. And hey, maybe one day I’ll get you backstage at one of my shows.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

The call carried on after that, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about how everything was about to change. For her, for me—for both of us. And maybe, just maybe, that was okay.

Dahyun opened the door to our shared home and said, “Looks like that spark never left.”

I looked up, smiling at her. She was still in that sexy dress I loved, her eyes glowing with warmth.

“Well, my lovely lady friend never gave up on me, so I never gave up on her.”

Dahyun gave me her cute, gummy smile and a nostalgic glint flashed in her eyes. “This reminds me of how we met two years ago.”

We laughed, letting the memory of the past wash over us. It felt good, to remember how simple things used to be. But even as we laughed, something inside me tugged at the years in between—the time when things weren’t so easy.

It was right after she signed with JYP, just after the whirlwind of training sessions, vocal lessons, and dance practices took over her life. At first, we tried to keep in touch. Text messages, voice notes, and the occasional video call when she had a moment to breathe. But as the weeks stretched into months, it became harder and harder to keep our connection alive.

One night, I was waiting for her call. We hadn’t spoken in days, and I knew she was busy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was changing. The time apart was starting to weigh on me. I watched the clock, waiting, the silence filling the space between us.

Finally, my phone buzzed. A message popped up: “Hey, sorry! Can’t call tonight. Long practice. Will try tomorrow. Miss you!”

I stared at the screen, the words feeling hollow. Tomorrow? What happened tonight? What happened to us?

It wasn’t the first time she’d had to cancel, but this time, it felt different. The gap between us was growing wider, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reach her. It wasn’t her fault—her dream was coming true, and I didn’t want to be the one to hold her back. But a part of me ached every time I thought about how little time we had left together.

And then, as the weeks passed, the calls stopped coming altogether.

I remember the exact moment it happened. It was a few months after Dahyun’s debut. I was sitting alone, scrolling through social media, when I came across a picture of her at some event—glamorous, smiling, surrounded by fans and fellow idols. She looked so happy, so distant from the girl I once knew. It hurt as I had grown immensely fond of her but I guess it was just never meant to work out.

That was when I realized I wasn’t part of her world anymore.

I tried to convince myself that it was for the best. Her life had changed, and I didn’t fit into it anymore. The constant rehearsals, the endless schedules, the strict rules from her company. I knew about the restrictions—no dating, no public relationships, no distractions from the career. She had become something bigger than us, something bigger than me.

But it still hurt. I missed her. And, little by little, I had to let her go.

Years passed, and I moved on—or at least I thought I had. Life in LA had become routine. I had a decent job, good friends, and a steady rhythm to my days. Dahyun had faded into the background of my life, a distant memory I tried not to think about too often. I had put my instruments away and stopped playing altogether, it just hurt too much.

Until that day.

I was walking through the bustling streets of LA, lost in thought when I saw her. She was standing on the sidewalk, her back turned to me. Sunglasses perched on top of her head, her hair a little longer than I remembered. She was dressed casually, blending in with the crowd, but there was something about the way she stood—the confidence, the grace—that made me stop in my tracks.

Without thinking, I called out, “Dahyun?”

She turned slowly, her eyes scanning the crowd before landing on me. For a second, I thought I was dreaming. There she was, right in front of me, looking just like she had all those years ago. The same bright smile, the same spark in her eyes.

“Daiju?” Her voice was soft, and hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if she was really seeing me.

I couldn’t believe it. After all this time, after all the silence between us, here she was. “It’s… it’s been a while.”

She smiled, a little nervously, but there was warmth there too. “Yeah. It really has. Wow, you've gotten so tall.”

I chuckled and said, "Yeah I guess that's true, but I mean look at you? you look gorgeous." Dahyun gave me a gummy smile as she did a little dance for me. I smiled as she did

We stood there, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, the noise of the city fading into the background. Everything that had happened between us, everything we had lost, hung in the air between us like a ghost.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

She laughed, a soft, bittersweet sound. “Me neither. I… I thought about you. A lot.”

I looked at her, trying to read her expression. “Did you?”

She nodded, taking a step closer. “Yeah. I wanted to reach out, but… you know how it is. The company, the rules. It wasn’t just about me anymore.”

I swallowed, feeling the weight of all the things I had wanted to say over the years. “I get it. You were living your dream. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

She looked down at her feet, her smile fading slightly. “But I missed you, Daiju. More than I can say.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest. All the hurt, all the time apart, it didn’t matter anymore. Not when she was standing right in front of me.

“I missed you too,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then, with a deep breath, she looked up at me, her eyes filled with something I hadn’t seen in years—hope. “So… what now?”

I smiled, feeling the old spark between us flicker back to life. “Well, I guess we could start with dinner. It’s been a long time since we had a proper catch-up.”

She laughed, a sound that was both familiar and new at the same time. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Later, we found ourselves sitting in a quiet little restaurant, tucked away from the bustle of LA. The place was cozy, dimly lit, the kind of spot where you could have a real conversation without being interrupted.

“So,” I said, setting my drink down. “What’s life been like for you? I mean, apart from the whole ‘global superstar’ thing.”

She smiled, a little shyly, stirring her tea. “It’s been… overwhelming, honestly. Everything happened so fast. One day I was training, and the next, I was performing in front of thousands of people. It’s been amazing, but exhausting too.”

“I can imagine,” I said. “Do you ever get any time for yourself?”

Dahyun shrugged, her expression softening. “Not really. I mean, there are moments, like now, where I can just be me. But most of the time, it’s all about the image, the performance. It’s… a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sure,” I said, leaning forward. “But you’re handling it. I can tell.”

She smiled, her eyes glinting with that old fire. “I’m trying. But you know, sometimes I miss the simpler days. Like when we were at camp, just hanging out and making music for fun.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “Yeah, those were good times.”

She looked at me for a long moment, her expression thoughtful. “You know, I’ve got a show tomorrow night. It’s in town. You should come.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I’ll get you a backstage pass,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “It’ll be just like old times—except with a few more lights and a bigger audience.”

I chuckled, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through me. “I’d love to. It sounds amazing, but I'll have you know I still don't speak Korean.”

Dahyun smiled, her hand brushing mine across the table. “ That's fine. Then it’s a date.” after dinner we smiled and went our separate ways.

The next day I got a call from Dahyun on where to meet here and when. I arrived a little early as did Dahyun as we pulled up nearly at the same time. She jumps in my car and says,

"So what kind of music do you listen to now?" she asks,

"Mostly metal and rap. However, I did do a crash course on Twice and Kpop as a whole."

Dahyun smiled, "Ooh, and Do you have any favorites?"

"Oh yeah G-idle, Fromis_9, and Le Sserafim," I responded. Dahyun pouted.

"I meant our songs."

"Oh, I am so sorry."

"Okay here is my list of top favorite Twice songs: Perfect World, Hello, Moonlight Sunrise, and Feel Special."

"Oh, you like Perfect World?"

"Are you kidding me? That song is amazing and you all look so gorgeous," I said with a smile as I pulled up the album. "You know the girl with the short hair and the tanned skin she is so beautiful. I might have a crush on her." I tease. Dahyun looks at me devastated, and I laugh before saying, "Don't worry you still have my heart." Dahyun relaxes as she looks at me before we head to the stadium. All is quiet as we sit next to each other, before heading in.

The dimmed lights of the concert hall hummed with quiet intensity as the crowd outside waited for the show to begin. But backstage, it was a completely different world—organized chaos, as staff members hurried back and forth, setting up equipment, testing sound systems, and finalizing last-minute details.

Dahyun, dressed in casual yet chic stage prep clothes, led me through the maze of backstage corridors, her hand occasionally brushing against mine. The air smelled of makeup, hairspray, and that electrifying mix of anticipation that only a concert venue could have.

“So, this is what it’s like behind the scenes, huh?” I asked, glancing around at the bustle.

“Yup,” she said, smiling at me. “Crazy, right? It’s a whole different vibe back here.”

“It’s a lot,” I admitted, taking it all in. “But I guess you’re used to it by now.”

Dahyun shrugged, her expression softening. “Kind of. You never really get used to the adrenaline before a show, though. But it’s fun. It’s like… home in a weird way.”

As we walked, she pointed out the different sections—wardrobe, hair and makeup, and the green room where the members usually chilled before going on stage. She was mid-sentence, explaining how the stage setup worked when we rounded a corner and nearly collided with two familiar faces.

Jihyo and Nayeon stood there, arms crossed, grinning like two kids who had just stumbled on a secret.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?” Nayeon teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she eyed the space between Dahyun and me.

Dahyun stopped in her tracks, her cheeks flushing a light pink. “Oh, hey guys. I, um—this is Daiju,” she said, a little awkwardly.

Jihyo’s eyebrows shot up, her grin widening. “Daiju, huh? As in the Daiju?” She nudged Nayeon, who giggled like she was in on some joke I wasn’t privy to.

“Yeah,” Dahyun muttered, looking mildly embarrassed. “This is him.”

Nayeon took a step forward, extending her hand to me with an exaggerated flourish. “Nice to finally meet you, Daiju. Dahyun’s mentioned you before.”

“She has?” I asked, glancing at Dahyun, whose face was growing redder by the second.

“Only a million times,” Jihyo chimed in, stepping up beside Nayeon. “You’re the guy from the camp, right? The one she wouldn’t stop talking about?”

Dahyun shot her a warning look, but Jihyo just laughed. “What? It’s true! You were all ‘Daiju this, Daiju that’ back when we first started out.”

“I was not!” Dahyun protested though she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Nayeon said, winking at me. “She definitely wasn’t gushing about you during practice breaks. Nope, not at all.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, watching Dahyun squirm under their playful teasing. “I guess I made an impression.”

“You did,” Dahyun muttered, still embarrassed but with a small smile creeping onto her face.

Jihyo and Nayeon exchanged glances, their grins growing even wider.

“Oh, this is too cute,” Nayeon said, clapping her hands together. “You know what this means, right, Jihyo?”

Jihyo nodded sagely. “Oh, definitely. Dahyun, you’ve got to bring Daiju on tour with us. We’ll need some moral support backstage. And you’ll have someone to stare at you with heart eyes while you’re on stage.”

Dahyun groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You guys are the worst.”

Nayeon laughed, patting Dahyun’s shoulder. “Relax, we’re just messing with you. Besides, we’re happy for you.”

Jihyo nodded, giving Dahyun a warm smile. “Yeah, seriously. It’s good to see you like this, Dahyun.”

Dahyun peeked out from behind her hands, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks, guys.”

Nayeon turned to me, her eyes twinkling again. “You’re coming to the show tonight, right?”

“Yeah, Dahyun invited me,” I said.

“Good,” Nayeon said with a mock-serious nod. “Make sure you scream really loud when we’re on stage. Especially during Dahyun’s solo.”

Jihyo smirked. “Or better yet, hold up a big sign that says, ‘Marry me, Dahyun!’ That’ll definitely get you noticed.”

“Guys!” Dahyun groaned though she was laughing now, her earlier embarrassment melting away.

I just grinned, playing along. “I’ll see what I can do about the sign.”

Nayeon and Jihyo burst out laughing, and even Dahyun couldn’t help but giggle. It felt good, to be here with her, surrounded by her friends. There was something natural about it, like even though years had passed, and our lives had gone in completely different directions, some things hadn’t changed.

“Well, we’ve got to go finish getting ready,” Jihyo said, waving as she and Nayeon started to walk away. “We’ll see you later, Daiju!”

“Good luck!” I called after them.

Once they were out of earshot, Dahyun let out a long breath, shaking her head with a smile. “Sorry about that. They’re… a little much sometimes.”

“They seem fun,” I said, still grinning.

“They are. But I swear, they never let me live anything down.”

“Sounds like they care about you a lot.”

Dahyun smiled softly. “Yeah, they do. They’re like my second family.”

I could hear the fondness in her voice, and it made me realize just how much her life had changed. But standing there, backstage with her, sharing laughs and old memories, it felt like maybe I still had a place in her world.

She looked at me, her eyes twinkling. “Come on, I’ll show you where we do soundcheck. You’ll get to see the real behind-the-scenes magic.”

I followed her deeper into the backstage maze, the air buzzing with excitement. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like everything was falling back into place. As I watched the concert I fell back in love with Dahyun all over again. She was so at ease. So charming on stage I couldn't help but be proud of her, but also felt a deep sadness settle in as the concert wrapped up, because I knew this renewed connection was temporary, and when Dahyun walked off stage and her eyes met mine she felt it too.

She walked over to me and hugged me tight before leaning in close.

"I don't want to lose you again." you both said while you embraced.

Dahyun looked up at you and memories of video calls, and all the time spent together have you overwhelmed emotionally to the point you say

"Dahyun I love you and I always have. Can we figure something out?" Dahyun smiles and then says

"Of course."

The memory collapses now as I bring her in for a kiss. Dahyun's arms wrap around my shoulders as I carry her to the bed. I watch as her dress does little to hide her deadly curves before setting her down on our bed.

"I have been waiting for you all day," I say as I lift up her dress to see her delicious pale body.

"Oh stop teasing me and fuck me, my good Christian boy."

"Ah well, anything for the good Christian girl I saw as we kiss again.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #dahyun smut #twice dahyun #kim dahyun #twice smut

376 notes · View notes

p4ranormaluv · 27 days

Text

I AM YOURS ‧₊˚

part 2 of “aren’t you mine?”— but can be read as a stand alone [?]

pairing) puppy dom!jake x f!reader

genre) smut [nasty, filthy, shameful smut], hybrid au

warnings under cut

contents) jake has a big breèdeř còçk & bàłls, blow jòb, some còcķ warming, bálł worship [don’t look at me like that!], breath play? [you choke on his dícķ- and you like it], çúm facial, brief màsturbàtion, húmpíng, light húmiliátion kínķ, everything’s consensual!, hair pulling, man handling, heavy [?] dêgrádatíon, some praise, desc. of jake yelling once, a few ‘sir’ mentions, doggy style [lol], some spänkíng, brêedíng kínk, cûmmíng inside, not mentioned but reader’s on pill, not proofread

wc) 3.3k

ever since jake’s total attitude shift in the bedroom, things have been…different. while at the same time not different at all.

he’s still your sweet little puppy who waits at the door for when you get home. he’ll whine for cuddles and yip when he’s happy. his brown eyes still have that innocent sparkle and he does his best to be a good boy for you.

the difference is, you know the other side of him that lays beneath all of that.

beneath the puppy eyes and wagging tail and clingy attitude, there’s a ravenous dog who knows just how to make your knees weak and legs shake.

and you’re starting to get really impatient to see that again.

to feel that again.

you’re just not sure how. at least at first you weren’t.

you’re too embarrassed to tell jake you want him to fuck you like a wild animal again, and if you ask for sex he’s gonna approach it with the attitude of a puppy receiving a treat, like he usually does.

so in your mind, you really only have one choice.

piss jake off.

forcibly peel off the layer of innocent puppy he clothes himself with and reveal the beast.

luckily, you think you have a pretty good idea on how to make jake unleash his inner wolf again.

jake is currently in the second bedroom, which is dedicated as an office and gaming area. his headphones are on, but with his advanced hybrid hearing you’re sure he’ll be able to pick up on what’s about to go down.

opening your pajama drawer (because jake would probably find anything you’re attempting to hide if it was in your underwear drawer), you reach all the way to the back and pull out a vibrator. you haven’t used it in forever. you haven’t needed to with how insatiable jake is. and yet, you’re already wet at the thought of using it now, knowing what will come after it.

turning the vibe on to a gentle but constant rhythm, you sneak it past the hem of your shorts and tease yourself with it, going around your clit but never making direct contact.

things escalate pretty quickly. probably because you’re incredibly horny and impatient for some actual dick to be inside you. (specifically jake’s monster cock.)

you let yourself moan as much as you want, hoping the noises travel well through the door you left open and down the hall to where jake is. you quickly move the toy in and out of you, your embarrassingly wet pussy making for an easy glide.

and yet…no jake.

you’re honestly being loud as fuck already, but you up the anti, moaning like a porn star while trying to angle the vibrator so it makes wet squelching noises every time you fuck it back into your pussy.

you’re about to orgasm until you think too much about how jake isn’t catching you red handed like he was supposed to, the disappointment chasing off your high before you can reach it.

your hand falls against the sheets of your bed with a pathetic thump, eventually getting up to go to the connected bathroom, wash off the toy and your hands before banishing the toy back inside your drawer.

“y/n?” you hear jake call. you sigh, knowing he’s probably just gonna ask you to make him some food or something.

jake gives you an adorable smile when you appear in the door way, lifting up one side of his headphones to speak to you.

“do we have pizza?”

“yeah, pup. there’s some in the freezer.”

jake puts his puppy eyes in full gear, clearly begging as his tail moves in little hopeful wags.

“yes, jakey. i’ll make it for you.” you roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed when you’re really not. his cuteness is making you forget about your lost orgasm and failed attempt at getting dicked down.

“thank you, y/nie~” jake sings, hands leaving his keyboard and mouse for a moment to outstretch his arms, feet making happy little tip-taps on the floor. you quickly oblige, giggling as the second you hug jake, the puppy’s nuzzling his face into your tummy. you give him a kiss on his head, about to pull away when you feel his shoulders go rigid in your hold.

“puppy? you okay?”

“…why do you smell like cum?” jake asks against your skin, deathly still and voice eerily calm.

a chill runs through your body. you were so focused on getting jake to hear you that you didn’t think about how he could smell it.

“i- um…” you’re completely thrown off guard, the bratty attitude you planned to have vanishing from your abilities.

“you came…without me?”

jake finally lifts from your stomach to give you what you can only call a ‘death stare’, and- oh, there’s that feeling again. the one that makes your knees weak and heart faint.

“no! i didn’t, jake, really! i just…i wanted you to fuck me…h-hard like before so bad, but i was too shy to ask, and…”

“so you did something you knew i wouldn’t like? why? did you think i’d get mad and fuck you how you want?”

your cheeks burn, the twist of humiliation in your gut urging you to look away from his judging stare, but you can’t bring yourself too. whether it’s from fear or entrancment, you can’t tear your eyes from his, and neither can you seem to get any sound to come out of your mouth, nevertheless a proper response.

“well, i’ll tell you, y/n,” he begins coldly, none of his usual cute pet names for you in sight as he takes off his headphones and sets them on the desk, game completely forgotten. “you were right about one thing. you wanna guess what it is, slut?”

the pure venom in his tone has your panties clinging to your wet cunt and thighs literally trembling. jake finally can’t ignore it anymore and acknowledges it with a scoff, grabbing you by the waist and pushing you onto the floor so you’re kneeling between his legs.

you whimper in pleasure and fear at the rough treatment, but otherwise stay silent, staring up at him. you feel so, so small when he’s looking down at you like this, like you’re nothing but an annoying scuff on his shoe that he now has to take care of.

jake grabs a hold of your hair and yanks your head upward with a pull unexpectedly hard, causing a yelp to leave your lips as you look up at him, eyes pleading and confused.

“your brain really does go all dumb for some dick, doesn’t it? i said guess, bitch.”

“i- um…i…” you feel like your tongue is 100 pounds. your heart is pounding out of your chest and a distant voice in your head is screaming out from the fog to just say something, anything! but nothing comes out.

jake growls at your seeming disobedience, speaking through bared teeth as he leans down into your face, fingers that are still entangled in your hair gripping tighter and causing your scalp to burn.

“so fucking stupid, i’ll just have to tell you, huh? you did succeed in making me mad, y/n. jakey’s really, really angry. can you tell, baby?”

he asks his question almost nicely, if it weren’t for how he’s clearly talking down to you, his intentions to make you feel small and pathetic- needier for him.

“y-yes, jakey.” you answer as submissively as you can, and the hybrid is cooing before you’ve barely even finished. his hand finally releases your hair to pet your head as he pouts at you mockingly, finding your poor attempt at conjuring some mercy from him humorous.

“yeah, baby. you knew just how to make your puppy mad. you got one of the things you wanted.” he smiles, head tilting to the side in a way you usually find cute. but right now, it just feels sinister.

and you’re right, because a second later it drops back into that cold expression, big brown eyes morphing to sharp slits that stare at you so darkly they almost look black.

“but what you won’t be getting is my cock in that nasty fuckin’ cunt.”

“no! jake, please! i’m so sorry, but i need you! i did it because i need you!”

jake laughs humorously, leaning back in his gaming chair and man spreading his thighs. your eyes immediately follow the movement and your rewarded by seeing his massive bulge through his grey sweatpants. your mouth waters as jake stares at you with complete disinterest, veiny hand groping and squeezing himself a bit over the fabric with a deep, lazy groan.

“yeah, well, bit late to be telling me that now, isn’t it? i don’t want to be inside a loose cunt that’s been stretched out around some toy.”

“i’m not! i’ll be good, i’ll make you feel good, jakey, promise-“

“shut the fuck up!” jake yells.

like, properly yells, his voice booming against the walls and making you fall completely silent.

“god, i’m so sick of hearing you whine.”

as he says this he slides off his pants, leaving them to pool at his ankles along with his briefs. he slides his hips to the edge of the chair, his big cock with a glistening head bobbing along with the movement and his balls hanging over the edge. they look heavy and full of cum, the slight blush of them matching the pink of his tip.

you have to swallow from all of the spit collecting in your mouth.

“think this’ll be enough of a mouthful to keep you from talking, huh?” he smirks, and you nod, eager for anything he’ll give you.

“c’mere.” jake orders, the timber in his voice causing your pussy to squeeze around nothing as he pulls you closer by the nape of your neck. “this is for me, not you. i’m gonna use you as much as i want and i don’t want to hear a single complaint, got it?”

“y-yes sir.”

jake smirks at the title before snaking his hand from your neck to your jaw, gripping it firmly as a silent order for you to open up.

you do, sticking out your tongue for good measure.

jake hums appropriately and grabs his cock with his other hand, slapping it against your tongue. it’s so heavy that it makes a little wet sound every time it lands on your awaiting, desperate tongue, you failing to keep in a whimper as the taste of his salty pre cum ghosts over your taste buds. jake continues to tease you, rubbing his leaky tip across your lips like it’s a tube of lipstick. you resist from begging, but the way your eyes water and your thighs squeeze together don’t go unnoticed by jake.

finally, he mercilessly slides in all at once, tip hitting the back of your throat as drool gushes out from your mouth at the sudden intrusion.

“ah, yeah. fuck, be a good cock sleeve for me, hm?” jake groans, holding you by the hair as he keeps his cock resting in your struggling throat. you can’t help but squirm as you try to hold the little breath you have, your nose squished against his pelvis. a bit of pre cum dribbles from his tip and slides down your throat, causing you to cough and choke, frantic hands pushing and squeezing at jake’s thighs.

he pulls you off with a sigh, letting you gag and catch your breath for a moment before he’s forcing your mouth wide open to take him inside again. he presses you tightly against his pelvis once more before he starts fucking your mouth, pace deep and fast.

you uncontrollably emit embarrassing noises as jake repeatedly thrusts down your convulsing throat, balls slapping against your chin that’s covered in your own spit. you constantly feel like you’re about to run out of breath or choke, but the way jake is using you like an object or some lifeless fuck toy turns you on more than you imagined. how he’s just yanking your head up and down his shaft has you humping against the floor, trying to rub your clit against the seam of your shorts as subtly as possible. and with the way jake is slamming into you, you doubt he’ll notice your small movements.

“ah, fuck yeah! fuck,” jake moans. he pulls you off unexpectedly with a juicy pop from your lips sucking desperately at his tip, guiding your head lower. you think he’s going to tell you to lick up his shaft, but he surprises you again.

“suck on my balls like the filthy whore you are. m’sick of seeing you pretending.”

you let out a shuddering breath, then- “yes sir.” before your arching your back to bend down and encompass both his balls into your mouth in the first try.

it’s a struggle for sure, you feel like you practically have to unhinge your jaw to accommodate them, but you manage to suck them in. you hold them in your warm mouth, getting them all wet as you explore them with your tongue all over. jake growls and you hear him throw his head back, hips twitching upward slightly as he starts jerking off his own cock.

you moan as you pull off, taking a look at your work. a bead of drool runs down his balls and you lick it up with a long stripe of your tongue. you can tell jake is getting needier and more caught up as he lets out a whimper that sounds a little more like your puppy. but when he speaks it’s still throaty and deep.

“yeah, good girl. keep lickin’ me like that.”

the small amount of praise has your heart and pussy pounding for more, so you keep at it, licking and kissing at his heavy sack like you have no shame.

and you really don’t, at least in this moment, with his fat cock and balls bouncing with the speed that jake is tugging at himself with.

he’s moaning more frequently and louder, letting you know he’s getting close. your legs spread wider as you start humping the floor again, whining against his balls as you do your best to look up at him from the awkward angle. you want to make him cum so bad, even if it isn’t in your pussy.

it’s too good for jake to handle, your whorish tongue licking and the sound of your sweet little kisses against his balls, sucking the delicate skin into your mouth. all while his rough hand harshly pumps his shaft.

“c’mere, stop,” he demands even though he’s already forcibly pulling you off, his hand showing his desperation as it goes faster, practically in a blur as jake tries to keep his whimpers under his breath.

“stick out your tongue, stick it out- yes, yes! yeah, baby. just like that. fuck-“

he cums all over your face and tongue with a loud, throaty moan. one that you’re sure your neighbors can hear.

your eyes are shut as you feel his juices run across your skin, you licking up as much as you can. jake wipes at your eyes, but is amused to see that you keep them shut, too lost in the taste of his cum as you try to collect every last drop.

you don’t even realize that you’re still humping the ground, little rhythmic whimpering escaping your lips until jake is pinning your hips down with his two feet.

“y/n…” jake warns, and you feel your body freeze over with shock.

you look up at him, and he can tell you genuinely were doing it unconsciously from the regret and anxious anticipation that’s evident in your cautious stare.

“ah, fuck it.” jake whispers under his breath, kicking off his pants and briefs that still hung from his ankles and pulling off his shirt. “strip and get on all fours.”

you’re surprised, but you don’t dare question it, practically tearing off your clothes before turning to get into the position. jake laughs at your eagerness as he still sits at his chair, looking down on you and making you feel utterly stupid and pathetic. you feel a sudden surge of sass that leads you to arch your back, presenting your ass and pussy to him much like a hybrid bitch would. you don’t hear jake laughing anymore, you realize proudly, letting out a giggle as you sway your hips from side to side.

there’s sounds of movements and then a hard slap is mercilessly landed on your ass cheek. you yelp, body flinching with the hit as you look behind you.

jake is on his knees behind you, tail raised but unmoving as he scrutinizes you.

“you’re as bad as a bitch in heat. you don’t deserve my cock but you need it, don’t you?” he emphasizes this by tapping the head of his dick against your hole, you whining and trying to push back on it so he’ll go inside. he spanks you again with his big hand, the sting making you wonder (hope) that it leaves a mark. “beg for it.”

“yes, jakey! i need your cock so bad. feels so good in my little pussy. pleeease fuck me, puppy? i’ve been waiting so long.”

jake hums, smirking as you flash him an annoyed little pout.

“think i’m gonna shove it all in at once…” jake threatens as he breaches his tip in your cunt. “bad little whores like you don’t deserve to be prepped.”

“i- but, no, jakey! i-…you’re too big.”

“you’ve taken me all at once before?” he smiles evilly, eyes sparkling from how bothered you look. you’re incredibly turned on and losing patience by the second and he knows it.

“yes, pup, but it hurt. couldn’t walk the next day.”

“awww~” he coos, giving you a pout that’s anything but genuine. “that’s because you’re my breeding bitch, baby. doesn’t matter if you can’t walk, all you’re supposed to do is lay down and take it.”

that’s all he says before he rams his monster cock in your small hole, you crying out as you turn your head to burry your face in the carpet.

“thaaaat’s right, that’s what my slutty baby needed, huh? just needed a big dick to pound her little pussy into the ground.”

“oh, f-fuck, jake,” you moan, sounding like a porn star for the second time today, but this time it’s genuine. his cock is stretching you out so good and his balls hit against you with every thrust.

“no. not jake.” he pants, hands groping the flesh of your hips. “call me puppy. say that i’m your good little puppy with a huge cock.”

“god, yes, puppy! you are, you are my good little puppy with a huge, huge cock! please keep fucking me, puppy! don’t stop fucking me!” at this point, after accidentally edging yourself and all the teasing and build up, you’re so close. you want to cum so bad but you don’t want to piss jake off anymore at this point, afraid he’ll pull out if you do.

jake changes his angle just slightly, and you’re seeing stars, body trembling as he continues to rail you.

“oh, i think i found your spot, didn’t i, baby?”

“please, puppy, please!” you beg, though you’re not even sure what you’re begging for at this point.

“wanna fill you up again, shit. you’ve really fucked me up, baby. got me thinking about how good this pussy feels when i fill it with my cum, always gets so tight.”

“then cum in me, puppy. fill me up, please? i’m yours, make me yours!”

jake feels his dick twitch inside of you at your words and he knows he’s a goner.

“cum for me, y/n. cum like the slutty bitch you are for this cock.”

your walls constrict as you cry out in white, hot pleasure, jake letting go with a growl as he pounds his cum deep, deep, deep inside your pussy.

when he’s finally done, he pulls out to watch it drip out of you, gripping your ass to stretch open your already stretched out hole even further.

“god, i love it when you make me mad.”

❤︎ REBLOG IF YOU LIKED ❤︎

taglist) @jaeyunwon @strxwbloody @starfallia @annoyednblax @acousarah @heeseungshim @haelahoops @jakeyismine

#jake smut #enhypen smut #jake imagines #jake x reader #jake sim #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #sim jake #kpop smut #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fanfic #enha ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

275 notes · View notes