#spill drinks and be merry

[mellowwillowy]

TWST x Self-aware Yan Cannibal AU Ft: Unhinged GN Reader

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥

Unbirthday party has always been a merry occasion for 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥. Not only does he get to eat the strawberry tarts, but he also gets to have Trey's meat pie specialty.

Pigs who dared to enrage the tyrant by upsetting you, the law, are sent to the kitchen for the butcher and baker to process into something edible.

The card soldiers cheer in joy and anxiety, pleased to be able to taste the main course yet sweating over the idea of screwing up and ending up on the silver platter.

Yet part of them does not really mind if it's meant that they will be devoured by you, the law, their grace. Ace and Deuce have always irked Riddle but the sight of you smiling along with their pranks and mischiefs save them from the trouble they are about to face.

Cater will always upload it on magicam, boasting the sight of you enjoying your stay in 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐥 as you nibble on the tart. Baked and minced to your favorite, as usual. Trey and Cater sure know their way around this, memorizing how you like it by heart.

--

"Looks like you two are having a hard time cleaning the guillotine huh?" You stopped in front of the guillotine, watching the other students along with the ADeuce duo wiping the blade that had severed yet another pig for you to feast on soon.

"Uh yeah, troublesome as always, I hate having this bloody mess all over my hands." Deuce furrowed his eyebrows, waving his hands for you to see. Ace immediately elbowed Deuce, "Dude, you are splattering the blood all over me!"

You chuckled at the duo before turning back your focus on Riddle and his chaperones, "I assure you, those blood does taste good too if you know your way around it."

Trey and Cater raised their eyebrows and glanced at each other, seemingly knowing what they would present for you at the next Unbirthday party.

"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to have your Grace have a taste of it at our next tea party."

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰

It's only natural to see the beasts ripping the guts out of the prey with their bare fangs. 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 surely offers an entirely different vibe when it comes to banquets.

Until Leona signals them, the beasts are nothing but starving predators, ready to shred the prey into minced meat. But Leona is nothing but a calm and obedient beast when it comes to you, eagerly waiting for you to give him the accord.

One tilt of your head and a nod is all it takes for Leona to snap his fingers, the chosen beasts leaping toward the prey eagerly as their claws and fangs tore them apart.

Jack was the fiercest among the others, even more than his seniors. For someone who held an upright moral integrity, he had it revolved around you and all sense of justice had been laid onto the tip of your tongue.

Ruggie on the other hand only watched in amusement next to Leona, waiting for the next batch of captured prey to be feasted by him. He would not cut line and steal a bite of what's not given to him from you, oh nooo, he was a patient hyena.

Leona cocked his head to you, eyes focused on you while waiting for you to lock your eyes with his, "Should I grab one for you to eat too, your Grace?"

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞

Mostro Lounge has always offered the best dining experience. It is not to be doubted again that 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 is most definitely going to serve you the finest meal, personally handled and cooked by the Tweels.

And of course, those who fail to fulfill the terms of Azul's contract have to feel how the merfolks gut them, spilling their whole innards all over as they choose which part is considered the most delectable for you.

From the sophisticated look of the beverage, tinted dark red yet a hue of purple could be seen, giving it a pleasingly aesthetic look for you to fawn over before you drink it down.

On the silver platter was a heart, decorated with things you had no idea about but you had seen back in your world. Fancy diners always do that, you thought to yourself.

"Only the best part for your Grace." Jade bowed down as he adjusted the plate and utensils. Floyd was grinning from ear to ear as he dusted the sugar cube into your drink, "And something refreshingly sweet for ya' highness!"

You gave them a curt nod before slicing it, Floyd kneeling down next to you while his face rested on your chair's armrest, eyes glimmering in excitement as he waited for your feedback. Jade might not show it in his face but even you could notice how his feet tapped against the carpeted tile, something you'd never see from someone who could stand still for hours without moving like an inanimate object.

You gave them an approving nod and smile as you took a sip from the drink Floyd personally went over length to make for you, "Satisfactory as usual."

A pair of hands clasped on your shoulders from behind, Azul cooed right into your ear "But your Grace, surely it can go beyond that no? We'll make sure of that the next time you choose to feast here."

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐚

Banquet has always been something that is always happening due to Kalim's nature and Jamil has never really found any joy from it.

But all that changes if the banquet is thrown for you. Oh, how the viper ensures himself to go beyond length in preparing the dishes. With Kalim's endless riches, he can use all sorts of ingredients one would never be able to obtain without spending a fortune for their rarity. Only the freshest and best ingredients are allowed to be used for your meal and so are the living meat of the students.

Everything must be set to a T. Kalim may not be a tyrant but when it comes to you? He's unconsciously pointing his fingers and brows scrunched at anything that is not abided by perfection. The lamps are not hung at the right angle, the pillows have not been changed into new pillows and the animals must be paraded in order and not roam like wild beasts. Anyone who just ever makes the slightest mistake will be sent straight to the kitchen as an ingredient. Had it not been for Jamil's suggestion to send them all bruiseless, they would have been beaten until they were nothing but pulp.

You were taking in the sight of the parade, everything was as amusing as you had always remembered. But the true highlight lay in Jamil's cooking, if you have to pinpoint the best cook in this twisted wonderland then it had to be Jamil. Unlike the finery of Mostro Longue, Jamil's cooking had a different feel to it. It was not as aesthetic yet it did not change the fact that it still looked pleasantly delicious. If Mostro Lounge accounted for the positioning of the food in a numerical and angle way, Jamil offered everything in a neat bulk. Curry, prata, shawarma, and all. Its display screamed for people to grab one yet no one dared to unless you ordered them to do so.

You cocked your head toward Kalim who was sitting right next to you, eyes glimmering in adoration as he drunk in your expression. Oh, would you finally like to have a bite? He held one of the shawarma out toward you with an empty plate in his other hand.

Jamil had ensured that there were 2 different platters, one for you which was made from the best ingredients and seasonings, while the other was less if compared to yours but still delicious nonetheless. One was made from meat and blood that had been considered the best while the other was made from those that failed to pass through the requirements.

You took a bite from his hand, savoring the taste of Jamil's hard work while enjoying the show of Kalim's tyranny. Truly, you love being able to taint your beloved sunshine.

"Say say, are you enjoying it all, your Grace? Not even a beat of music missed and all the food that sprawled across the room is ensured to be of the best quality." Kalim brought a goblet onto you and you held it in your hand. He gave you another grin that was just as blinding as the sun, his finger beckoned Jamil to pour you the carmine drink, squeezed from their cries of agony and pain before they were minced.

"But of course, your Grace has no need to hesitate to point something out if it's not to your liking," Jamil chimed in as he watched you swirl your goblet. The two of them stared right into your eyes, eyes enchanted by you despite one being an enchanter, "Because we seek only perfection for your Grace's taste."

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 prides themselves in their pitch-perfect diet. So what if their Grace has a different taste in the feast? All they have to do is readjust and tailor the whole dorm's diet to yours.

The fairest one of all, wearing a tiara that shines even brighter than any tiaras Vil has ever seen, truly living up to the radiance you emit just from sitting on the very throne with him standing right next to you.

It appeared that preparing a banquet was a huge feat for 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 as they were divided into 2 teams. Team One prepared the whole occasion while Team Two flocked toward you, amusing you with a theatric show as you watched them from your throne.

It appeared that Rook's fascination with the world of theatrics and you worked really well as he 'acted' out the role of a lover professing his love toward the protagonist really well. Strings of bizarre praises and wishes rolled from the tip of his tongue smoothly as though it was by nature for him to act so already.

Epel on the other hand was all energized to drag the qualified livestock into the kitchen after Vil had inspected them all personally. The livestock was to be of a healthy diet, bruiseless and ailment-free before it was allowed to be cooked and feasted by the Grace.

The moment Rook was notified that the whole banquet was ready, a trumpet was blown and you were led to the dining hall which had been decorated to match your attire. Were you wearing something cute, pure, sexy, cool, or pop? Either way, 𝐏𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞 never missed a beat in losing its elegance no matter what the theme was.

"Allow me," Rook pulled the chair for you to sit on before he readjusted the platter asymmetrically. Right next to your seat on the right was Vil sitting while the rest of the body stood, not daring to sit unless you allowed them to.

Seeing Epel all giddy observing you, you beckoned him to come to you and he whispered into your ear, "I seasoned it!"

You cocked a questioning eyebrow toward Vil and he could only sigh with a chuckle, "Oh what will I do with your Grace's taste bud?"

Rook poured a carmine red fluid into your glass, its smell told you that it was not made just from a fine wine but rather, a fine blood.

"A fine cocktail of white wine, dyed with a carmine golden drop, hand-picked and squeezed personally by me. Truly, your favorite, your Grace."

𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞

Honestly, what do you even expect from all these anti-socials? They are nothing but a bunch of hikikomori yet the Shroud Brothers just know how to surprise you!

Unlike the impractical methods that the others use to earn just a golden drop of blood from the livestock, the dorm has created countless practical devices that help them to create something quickly.

Compressors that grind down the gutless livestock into a fine drink. Shredders that allow them to save time from having to shred from chunk by chunk. And a practical inspection device that helps Idia sort out the best for you to feast on.

Ortho had to be the most eager one of all, singing non-stop as he ensured all were to be finished quickly when you informed him that you would be choosing 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 for your next banquet.

They specialized in efficiency and speed but that did not mean they lacked the skill of cooking a delicious dish. While it may be pale when compared to other dorms, 𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐞 is a great option for when you are craving for something and want it to be on your plate in a short moment. They might not score 12/10 but they were able to at the very least score 8/10. Surprised much? Ortho had been practicing how to cook and all from the data Idia inputted into him.

"Uurgh.. uhh... y-your Grace... so what is the verdict? A level up? Or an increase in the ranking board? O-Ortho is really expecting your answer..."

You raised your eyebrows at his stuttering, "Getting better," you stopped for a moment to chew again, "and delicious."

Ortho immediately leaped toward you from Idia's back, causing him to squeak, his metal arms wrapped around your neck, "I'm glad! Please keep on coming here and I'll make sure to be the best cook you'll ever have!"

Idia brought a napkin over to your face, "Yes... should your Grace ever need for a quick meal, please come by... Me and Ortho... and Ortho... will always be ready at your disposal."

But who were you but the all-knowing God, you knew there was a slight taint of blot in your meal, Ortho, you assumed.

𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚

Lilia has to stay away from the kitchen. But don't worry, the bat is entrusted with hunting down livestock for the youngsters to process into something edible.

Malleus on the other hand is ready to strike anyone down with lightning should they make the slightest mistake in the banquet preparation.

Sebek is in charge of inspecting the livestock while Silver is in charge of the most gruesome part of the job (which was appointed by you for fun.) which is gutting. Surely tainting someone so pure like him has to be your favorite feast.

The candles on the table were all lit in emerald hue, fireflies surrounded you as Lilia levitated around you, joyously guiding you toward the dining table.

There you could see Malleus sitting on the second host seat, his hand prompts you to take a seat across from him. Lilia pulled the chair for you to sit before Silver walked out of nowhere, holding a plate of dishes for you to feast on.

Sebek on the other hand had been arranged to stand right next to Malleus, part of him was happy yet part of him envied Silver. Nonetheless, no barks had ever slipped past through his sealed lip.

"Kukuku, the boys went through great details and length in preparing this whole banquet, well, me included. It was fun hunting down these livestock for you," His index finger felt your platter, "it makes me feel like I must pick the ripest for you... feeding you... aa~"

Soon, he brought a forkful of meat sliced by SIlver earlier while you were distracted by Lilia. Malleus smiled at your dazed-out face and the way realization washed over you.

"May your Grace enjoy the blessing that you have graced us tonight." Malleus raised his goblet, urging you to do just the same.

"Cheers!" Lilia wiped your mouth with the napkin, Silver's hand holding out your filled goblet.

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐲 ???

"My words! Did you have fun, hm?" Crowley immediately lunged toward you the moment you entered his office. He gave you the cutest pout you could ever see from him, his cheek rubbed against yours repeatedly.

"Are you jealous, Dire?"

"Of course not! How can someone as magnanimous as I, be jealous of my own fledglings?" And as though to prove to you his seriousness, he even posed ridiculously with his staff.

You cackled at him before giving him a kiss on his cheek, "I'm home, Dire."

Crowley stopped acting up and turned serene, giving you a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes.

"Welcome home, Master. Dinner's ready as usual."

Oh old times... ???

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

EDIT: PART 2 HERE

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts. 

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle... 

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”  

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 

Why would you say that? 

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts. 

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.” 

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 

He wants you to guide him to his father. 

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely. 

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love (4)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader

taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC ✨

word count | 4k words

summary | reader becomes lost in her thoughts. viserys dies, discussions with helaena, alicent, and aemond

tags | blood, violence, death, angst/no comfort (cuz no one knows she's a vampire), vampire powers, tensionnnnn, reader lowkey supports rhaenyra's claim, but she loves team green as if they're her family sooooo.

note | REMINDER: reader is just a teenage girl who wants her mommy, but is forced to be a blood-sucking vampire. also I haven't thought about the mikaelsons in a while and I just remembered how finn mikaelson was my favourite. #justiceforfinnmikaelson. he's so overhated for what?!!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

You were engulfed in confusion—terribly so. Confusion swirled within you like the smoky shadows of the Keep's halls. The unexpected kiss from Prince Aemond echoed in your mind, a fiery spark that ignited a torrent of thoughts as you navigated the labyrinthine passages of Maegor's hidden passageways heading towards Flee Bottom. Cloaked in shadow, you traversed the dimly lit tunnel—one you discovered long ago during the cold, shadowy days of your arrival in King's Landing. But as you slipped through the ancient stone corridors, your thoughts remained anchored to that fleeting moment when Aemond’s lips brushed against yours—intense yet tantalizingly soft.

The kiss was a sudden tempest, and the weight of it left you breathless. His strong, musky scent lingered in the air, a potent reminder of his presence, while his calloused fingers cradled your face with an unusual gentleness. You couldn’t help the unbidden smile that crept across your lips. drawing you further from the gravity of your circumstances. In those fleeting seconds, you felt like a simple girl, unburdened by the Mikaelson curse. You imagined yourself as the heroine of a fable, where a gallant prince would pursue his beloved, proclaiming his devotion before stealing a kiss—precisely as Aemond had done.

As you pressed on, a tavern's raucous laughter and the unmistakable aroma of ale and smoke guided your steps. It loomed ahead, a warm beacon against the chaotic backdrop of Flea Bottom. You pulled back your hood, exposure blossoming as you emerged into the dim light. Almost at once, a rather rotund man stumbled out, his unsteady gait hinting at the heaps of wine he’d consumed inside. Fat and flush, with a beard flecked with remnants of his last meal, he teetered on the brink of inebriation, blissfully unaware of the trap that awaited him. With a bleary gaze, he locked eyes with you, his drunken smirk betraying the more unsavory intentions that lurked beneath his merry facade.

Your heart raced—not with fear, but with mischief. Blood would be spilled tonight, but not yours. You softened your expression into a sweet smile, a mask of angelic innocence that belied your true intentions, as you approached.

His dull gaze sharpened upon your arrival, eyes widening as if you were a vision from the Seven’s very own realms. “You’re a pretty girl,” he slurred, the words tumbling from his lips like the last drops from an overturned flagon.

A soft laugh escaped you, a sound like wind chimes in a summer haze. “Am I?” you replied, your voice playful and melodious,.

The man nodded with fervor, his expression blissfully captivated. Beneath the dim lantern light, you could see the way his thoughts scrambled like rats, floundering beneath the weight of both drink and desire. With a teasing tilt of your head, you gestured toward a shadowy alleyway not far from the tavern's entrance. “Why don't you show me how pretty I am?” you beckoned, your tone flirtatious.

His swollen features broke into a foolish, drunken grin as he stumbled forward, entranced, unaware of the peril that followed too closely in your wake. Such was the way of men like him—lost beyond recovery in the coils of their own indulgences, ripe for the taking beneath the watchful eyes of gods indifferent to their fate.

As you entered the narrow alleyway, the shadows seemed to swell around you, encasing you in an ominous embrace. Before you could even turn around, the man's grimy hands, reeking of sour wine and desperation, were upon you, grasping and pawing at your garments.

A wave of revulsion threatened to rise within you, yet you steeled your resolve. Summoning your vampiric strength, with a swift motion, you shoved him hard against the damp stone wall, his body slumping in surprise.

He let out a raucous laugh, the sound echoing off the walls like a jester’s overplayed jest. You grimaced at the foulness of his breath, the acrid scent assailing your senses. “Oh, you’re a strong girl, are you?” he slurred, a foolish grin plastered across his round face.

“Indeed,” you replied, your voice laced with disinterest. Your gaze sharpened, intensity pooling in your crimson irises as you began to weave the threads of your compulsion. “Be silent and remain still.”

With each word, you could feel his will wavering, his body succumbing to your command as his laughter turned into a slack-jawed stupor. The stench of his unwashed skin assailed your nostrils, but it barely registered now as your fangs elongated, sharp and glistening in the hopeless half-light of the alley.

Leaning in close, you felt the rush of your animalistic urges surge through you as your fangs pierced the delicate flesh of his neck, finding the pulsing artery with ease. The man whimpered, his feeble sounds mingling with the night air, yet he made no effort to resist; he was a mere vessel now, a source of sustenance for your insatiable thirst. The bitter warmth of his blood coursed down your throat, igniting a mix of satisfaction and despair.

As you fed, your mind wandered unbidden to Aemond—the fleeting memory of the kiss you had shared igniting a spark of longing that warred with your harsh reality. In that moment, the illusion of being a normal maiden, one capable of love and tenderness, faded into the dark abyss of your existence. The truth clawed at you like a ravenous beast; you were a creature of the night, bound by a thirst that rendered your dreams of affection but a distant whisper.

A wave of sorrow crashed over you, its weight pressing heavy upon your heart. Tears pricked at your eyes, blurring your vision as despair settled deep within your soul. In a fit of anguish, you tore your fangs from his flesh, the act frenzied and primal, as you ripped through his throat. A sob escaped your lips, raw and aching, as you stepped back and allowed the lifeless form to crumple to the ground. Blood smeared across your jaw, a grotesque mark of your nature, but your thoughts strayed not to the corpse before you.

How cruelly fate had woven your path; Aemond, with his fierce spirit and brooding whispers, was a world beyond your grasp. Yet every stolen glance, every shared moment between you only served to deepen the agonizing contrast of your reality. You cast the dead man one last glance, his stillness a haunting reminder of your actions, before turning your back on the grim tableau. As you made your way back towards the Keep, you felt a solitary tear trace a path down your cheek—one more sign of your unfulfilled yearning, echoing in the vast silence of the night.

As you crossed the threshold into your chambers, the heavy atmosphere of despair clung tightly to your spirit. You searched for a damp cloth to cleanse yourself—tinged with the vivid crimson remnants of the blood you had once savored, now leaving a bitter taste in the pit of your stomach. Though the vampiric curse bestowed upon you allowed for days without rest, weariness prevailed, drawing you like a shadow toward your bed.

You felt the weight of your heart, heavy with sorrow and longing for the comfort of sleep—a refuge where you could escape the chains of your reality. Tomorrow, the court would buzz with intrigue and whispers, but you doubted you would leave your chambers. In those fleeting moments between wakefulness and dreams, perhaps you could imagine yourself as someone else—a maiden free of bloodlust, pure and deserving of Aemond's fierce devotion. In those dreams, you could be free. In those dreams, you would be whole.

As the lingering echoes of the previous night's woes finally faded, you stirred, your senses slowly awakening from a slumber that felt both unearthly and heavy with dreams. With a deep sigh, you pushed your head from the pillow, blinking against the fading light that spilled through the window. The sun had dipped lower on the horizon, casting shadows that danced across the stone walls of your chamber—a stark reminder that you had now squandered the day sleeping away.

With a reluctant grace, you rose from the silken sheets that embraced you, and wrung your hands through your tresses, managing to tame the wild locks that had battled against the weight of sleep. Yet, as you got dressed, a sense of urgency gnawed at you. You drew closer to the heavy oak door, intent on rejoining the world beyond its threshold. However, your fingers merely grazed the handle to reveal that it was stubbornly sealed.

Furrowing your brow in irritation, you exerted a bit more force, pulling at the handle, only to find it locked. A huff escaped your lips, and with a determined glare directed at the obstinate barrier, you pressed your hands against the frame, using your strength and pushed. The wood shuddered against your might, yielding at last, the door swinging open with a reluctant creak that echoed through the silence of the guest wing.

When you stepped into the hallway, an unsettling quiet enveloped you, the stillness stretching like an unseen net. You advanced cautiously, each footfall a reminder that something was amiss. Yet, you dismissed the haunting unease that prickled at your skin, shaking off the chill while you made your way forward, resolute in your purpose, as you sought Helaena’s chambers.

The atmosphere in Helaena’s solar was suffused with the same unsettling. The last rays of sunlight filtered weakly through the stained glass, casting muted colors that danced across the flagstones, but they did little to dispel the heaviness of the atmosphere. Helaena, draped in a gown of pale blue, sat by the window, her gaze lost in the distance, and her delicate embroidery forgotten on the chaise, threads of gold and silver glimmering like fleeting memories.

“Princess,” you ventured softly, stepping closer, your voice barely a whisper against the weight of the silence.

She turned slowly, her features—usually serene—now marred by a deep frown that spoke of profound grief. “Where were you?” Helaena’s voice, though devoid of accusation, dripped with a melancholy that made your heart ache.

“Confined in my chambers,” you replied, concern creasing your brow.

Her eyes drifted downcast, fingers twisting nervously together like the tangled threads of her abandoned work. “I am queen now,” she murmured.

Confusion washed over you, a furrow forming between your brows. “I don’t understand.”

“Father died last night,” she revealed, her voice hollow, as if she were reciting a grim tale rather than sharing a wound that plunged deep into the heart of House Targaryen. “Aegon’s coronation took place at midday.”

“Oh,” was all you managed, the weight of her words pressing down upon you like a winter frost.

You had never anticipated this so soon; the insatiable hunger for the Iron Throne had prompted a brutal and ruthless usurpation. The whispers of civil war—so distant and abstract until now—had materialized into a bitter reality. You settled beside her, the familiar warmth of your presence a fragile comfort amidst the tempest of her sorrow. Gently, you took one of Helaena’s hands in yours, your fingers intertwining. She squeezed your hand tightly, her grip a silent plea for strength, and you could feel the tremors of her despair ripple through the fragile connection that bound you together.

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across the Red Keep when you at last emerged from Helaena’s chambers. The weight of her weariness had pulled her into a restless slumber, leaving you with a restless heart. You meandered through the stone corridors, each echoing step leading you toward the chambers of the one whose counsel you desperately sought. Upon reaching the heavy oak door, you knocked gently, and a faint voice called from within, "Enter."

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the dimly lit chamber. The flickering flames of the hearth danced, casting a warm glow that played across the fine tapestries adorning the walls. Your eyes settled on the figure seated by the fire—The Queen, though perhaps now, the dowager Queen.

"Your Grace," you greeted, your voice laced with reverence.

Alicent turned, the light catching her features, her once bright eyes now shadowed with the weight of loss and duty. The depths of her large brown irises seemed to brighten with a flicker of comfort at your arrival, but the sorrow was unmistakable as she murmured your name. "I apologize for the constraints placed upon you. My father thought it best that all liege lords and ladies be confined to their chambers in light of recent events."

You nodded, empathy swelling in your chest as you took a seat beside her. "Helaena shared with me the tale of what transpired," you began cautiously, your gaze intent upon the queen's weary expression.

Alicent sighed, the sound heavy with grief. "The King," she spoke, pain sweeping over her like an ominous fog, “he spoke of Aegon, he named him as heir in his final moments.”

Your heart tightened at her words; skepticism gnawed at the edges of your mind. Could it truly be? "Yet, Your Grace," you ventured, a hint of disbelief coloring your tone, "the King had twenty-two years to declare Aegon as his rightful heir."

Alicent turned her gaze back to the fire, the flickering flames casting an ephemeral glow upon her face. The warmth that once radiated from her presence seemed dimmed, replaced with an aura of fragility. She drew a shaky breath. "Perhaps it is not a matter of time, but of choice," she murmured, her words weaving through the shadows of the room, "In that moment of despair, he grasped for certainty amidst the chaos.”

Certainty which embodied the drunken Aegon? A skeptical expression crossed your features, yet the desperation in the Queen’s gaze expressed to you that it was indeed the truth to her. Despite her conviction, you found yourself unable to fully surrender to her narrative. "Then why did Aegon’s coronation happen so quickly?" you challenged, the words falling from your lips like shards of ice.

For this, the Queen faltered. Her eyes slipped away, a slow shake of her head revealing the anguish that resided within. "If Rhaenyra were to ascend the throne, the lives of Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and Daeron would be forever in danger," she murmured, the words laced with the indoctrination of Otto Hightower.

You held a quiet disbelief in your heart. Rhaenyra, with her fierce spirit and benevolence, would not turn her blades against her half-siblings without provocation. Still, you understood the origins of Alicent’s dread. After all, Rhaenyra was married to Daemon, who was likely to see the children of Alicent as forever living threats to his wife's claim. Still, all thoughts of treachery were now ghosts in the face of Aegon's coronation.

“Will you accompany me to the Sept on the morrow?” Alicent's voice broke the silence, a quiet plea wrapped in a veil of vulnerability.

In that moment, you were swept away by a tidal wave of longing for your own mother. Before you embraced the demonic creature you had become, your mother had nurtured you with a love akin to that of a fallen star gracing the Earth. Now, you found solace in the fragile figure of Alicent Hightower, clinging to her presence as though she might fill the void left by your lost mother. With a gentle nod, you covered her slender hand with your own, "Of course, your grace."

The dawn’s light seeped hesitantly through the thick drapery of your chamber, casting a muted hue across the stone walls of the Red Keep. You stirred from restless dreams, where shadows danced ominously on the precipice of war. A chill licked the air, as if the very stones of Westeros mourned the blood that would soon be spilled. With a sense of foreboding, you rose before the sun had fully chased away the darkness.

Slowly, you donned a gown of soft lilac, the fabric whispering against your skin like the breeze that crept through the narrow window. You painstakingly braided your hair, arranging it delicately. Each movement was imbued with both purpose and trepidation, a ritual that anchored you amidst the chaos that brewed beyond the castle walls.

Before the winds of fate had cast you adrift in Westeros, you had known nothing of faith; the Norse gods of your childhood were mere tales spun by your parents, who were as skeptical of the divine as they were of the world outside their doors. In your past life, the gods felt distant, ethereal, and removed from the fervor of humanity. Yet here, in the heart of Westeros, how the world spun differently.

But within the regal presence of Queen Alicent, whose strength and grace reminded you of a lioness guarding her young, your skepticism began to erode. She embodied the devotion of the faith you had once dismissed; her prayers were filled with fervor as she sought to protect her kin and forge alliances among the houses of Westeros. In her company, you found solace in the faith of the Seven. To kneel before the Mother’s statue, adorned with offerings, was to partake in a ritual that tethered you to something greater, something almost palpable

You found solace in the quiet prayer sessions held in the Grand Sept, the flickering candles casting gentle silhouettes that danced like restless spirits against the stone. In the embrace of the faith, you discovered understanding of why mortals have always turned to religion: it was a way to combat the loneliness that often shrouded their hearts, a mechanism to find purpose and justification in their actions. Your fervent prayers often echoed the same request: a plea for safety—not only for the Targaryens, whose fates now intertwined with yours, but for the family you had left behind.

You prayed fervently for the Gods to soften Niklaus’ heart and lessen his wrath. You implored them to instill in Elijah the profound love he often failed to bestow upon himself. For Rebekah, you sought kindness; you yearned for her to see you not as competition, but her cherished sister. You called upon the heavens to grant Kol wisdom, challenging his rampant bloodlust that often clouded his judgment. And for your gentle Finn, trapped in the dark confines of a coffin wrought by Niklaus’s cruelty, you begged for respite—an end to his suffering and a chance to embrace his freedom at last. Your prayers extended toward your youngest brother, Hendrik, and for your beloved mother as well, who now resided among the stars in Heaven.

And even sometimes with a heavy heart, you whispered prayers for your father as well, pleading for mercy in the depths of his obsession, hoping that perhaps one day, he might find forgiveness before it consumed all the Mikaelsons.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock at your chamber door. Puzzled, you rose from your vanity, the delicate scent of jasmine lingering in the air around you. As you approached the door and opened it, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Aemond standing there, his presence a commanding force. In that fleeting moment, your mind drifted back to the night years ago when a thirteen-year-old, tousled Aemond had appeared before you—so innocent, so unrefined. But now, the boy had transformed into a striking man, confidence radiating from him.

Time seemed to stretch as the two of you locked eyes, an unspoken weight hovering between you, memories of the kiss you shared two nights prior flooding your thoughts.

“May I come in?” he asked, shattering the spell that had enveloped you both. You nodded, albeit with a hint of hesitation, stepping aside to let him enter. His musky scent enveloped you, a wild and intoxicating aroma that stirred something deep within.

With a small pout lingering on your lips, you inquired, “What brings you here?”

“I came to see how you were faring,” he replied, standing awkwardly in the center of your dimly lit chamber, like the sun caught in the shadows.

You huffed softly, wrapping your arms around yourself, a protective gesture that belied your ancient nature. It was strange—centuries of existence coursing through your veins, a vampire of untold ages; yet here, in the presence of Aemond, you felt like a naïve girl enchanted by the shadows that danced between you.

You spoke with a raw honesty that felt both freeing and heavy, “I’ll confess,” you replied, your voice tinged with frustration, “I’m both surprised and vexed to find myself confined to this chamber all day, only to emerge and learn that the King is dead and Aegon has claimed the throne.” A sigh escaped your lips as you cast your gaze to the side, memories of your family washing over you like a forgotten tide. “I was always the last to know in my family as well."

Aemond stepped closer, a teasing smirk finding his lips, clearly amused by your candidness laced with sass. “I must take my leave shortly to secure Borros Baratheon’s allegiance,” he stated, his voice filled with formality, yet laced with something unspoken.

Your eyes locked onto his striking violet one, and you arched an eyebrow, “So?”

“In exchange for his support, the council has arranged my marriage to one of his daughters,” he murmured, letting the words hang between you like a dark omen, scrutinizing your reaction with utmost care.

"Oh," in that moment, it felt as if your heart had splintered into countless shards. You forced a nod, turning away to shield the tempest of emotions brewing within you, striving for a façade of indifference, “Such is your duty, then.”

“It is,” he admitted, positioning himself directly in front of you, a palpable intensity radiating from his presence. Yet, you continued to avoid his gaze, perhaps in a desperate bid to escape this reality. And as you remained steadfast in your gaze away from him, he added softly, “But when I arrive there, it is Daeron’s hand I intend to offer instead.”

Your heart raced at his declaration, the pulse quickening against the cage of your ribs, yet you still refused to meet look at him, “Why?” you whispered, the question barely escaping your lips.

Aemond softened his stance, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he guided your face to meet his gaze. “Look at me, sweet girl,” he implored, his voice now a low, fervent whisper, compelling you to meet the intensity of his unwavering stare. “Because the only woman in this realm that I wish to call my own is you.”

Pain flashed in your heart, a flood of emotions crashing over you as you furrowed your brows, your voice trembling with uncertainty. “Aemond…”

He leaned closer, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead, a benediction of sorts. “We will discuss this further upon my return,” he murmured, his breath warming your skin.

With that, he turned away, departing into the shadows that awaited him beyond the door. Alone, you pressed your palms to your mouth, constricting a gut-wrenching sob that echoed in the hollow silence of your chamber, a lament for the hope that quickly flickered out like a dying candle.

next up, Aemond coming back from Storms End

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[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Four - Roots for friendship

♡♡♡

The ball was entirely outside. It was beautifully done. You had been in awe from the moment you arrived.

You left your mother's side in order to explore the grounds and see who and what was happening around you. The music was lively and many people were out dancing. This felt far more comfortable and free than the last ball.

You pass Colin Bridgerton, who is approaching Penelope Featherington. The poor girl is looking rather down. It is, unfortunately, well known that she had not danced at all at the last ball. Nor did her sisters, but you felt most for Penelope.

You were lucky to have even bumped into Benedict that night. Otherwise, you were sure you would have had the same fate as poor Miss Featherington.

The gown Penelope was wearing was much nicer than ones you had known her to wear. You had heard Portia had a habit of dressing her daughters in the most unruly shades of pink and yellow, sometimes even red. Tonight she looked rather lovely.

You carry on walking, leaving them to talk. Though you think Penelope would make for a good friend, you think she would rather talk to Colin alone. You wonder if perhaps there is something between them.

Cressida Cowper walks past you. She doesn't even look your way. You don't see how she approaches Colin, spills her drink on Penelope on purpose, or Colin stepping in to dance with his friend.

Your eyes land on his brother. Benedict is standing off to the side with his eldest brother. Anthony isn't paying much attention to his, though. Benedict nurses a drink in his hand.

You approach. "Good evening, gentlemen."

Both of them turn to you. Benedict smiles. Anthony bows his head in your direction.

"Good evening," Anthony greets you first.

"Are you looking for Daphne?" You ask. He nods. "I saw her over there with your mother."

Anthony glances over, but does not leave to join them. "Is she well?" He asks.

"Seemingly so."

Anthony takes your answer. As long as Daphne is well, all else is well.

You turn to Benedict. "Not dancing?"

"Haven't found a partner." He smiles.

"My card is empty," you say.

"I shall have to remedy that then." He finishes his drink and puts the glass down on the table behind him.

However, before he can ask for the next dance, the music quietens, and a voice calls out amongst the crowd. "I present Vauxhall's newest spectacle of illumination."

You all turn to see what's happening.

"Feast your eyes above."

You look up. All the lanterns above your head light up at once. You smile. It was quite beautiful. You applaud with the rest of the crowd.

You hadn't noticed that Anthony had drifted away from your side to seek out his sister.

"Shall we dance?" Benedict's hand came into view. You chuckled and took it. Benedict led you off to the dance floor, and you both danced to quite a merry tune.

You laughed and smiled. This dance felt quite friendly. No one could ever assume he was actually trying to court you. Not that anyone was paying much mind.

"It seems mother is too distracted. I might had a lucky escape after all."

You laugh at his words.

"Well, thank you for enlightening me regardless."

You both finish the dance with a bow.

"That was quite a lot of fun." He grins at you.

"It is good for one to enjoy a dance, do you not think?" You giggle.

He nods and escorts you back to the sidelines. Benedict catches sight of Anthony looking less than pleased at something. Benedict excuses himself and goes after his brother.

You find Penelope standing alone now. Colin nowhere in sight. You decide to approach. "Are you enjoying the ball?"

The poor girl looks startled as she turns to you. "Oh, yes. Quite."

She doesn't sound overly convincing, but you decide not to push her. You smile and introduce yourself properly. She smiles and introduces herself in return.

"You look lovely." You compliment her.

"Thank you. Mother had to stay home, so I was able to dress myself. Do you like it?" She smooths down the front of her gown.

"I do."

"You were dancing with Benedict, were you not?" She asks.

"I was. We have become friends, of sorts."

Penelope smiles. "Colin is my friend."

"The Bridgerton's seem like good friends to have."

"They are."

You smile at her and link your arm with hers. "May I keep you company a while?"

Penelope looks quite pleased by your offer. "Yes."

You decide to take a turn around the garden with her. You have decided if nothing else, this season you would make new friends in London.

As you finish your lap of the guests, everyone seems to fall quiet and turn off to the side. You and Penelope stop to look also.

There, entering the ball once more was Daphne Bridgerton. Right beside her was the Duke of Hastings.

"My word," you whisper.

Penelope says nothing as she watches the two. People begin to whisper. You would never have guessed that had any interest in each other after the dinner party last night. Tensions at the table had almost been unbearable, and yet, Simon leads Daphne to the dance floor.

As fireworks light up the sky and the music plays, they dance among the other couples.

Penelope slips from your arm to take a closer look. You watch them with a smile. They had seemed ao unlikely, and yet, the way they danced with each other made you wonder.

Anthony Bridgerton was seething. You could almost feel it.

Violet Bridgerton was thrilled.

♡♡♡

An invitation to the Bridgerton house was not something you were rather expecting so suddenly, but it seemed Benedict was trying to make you quite comfortable with the idea of visiting them.

He had stated to his mother quite clearly that you were his friend and should be allowed to come by as you wished. Violet had agreed with him and reminded you upon entry to her home that you were always welcome.

Funnily enough, it was not Benedict who greeted you right away, but Daphne. She smiled when you entered the drawing room.

"Are you coming too?" She asks.

"Coming where?"

"To promenade with us in the park." She checks her hair with her hand carefully.

"I was unaware you were all going out." You confess to her.

"You're more than welcome." Violet walks past you with a smile.

"I'd be delighted." You smile.

Benedict enters the room and smiles brightly. "There you are."

"Did you invite me for this on purpose?" You ask.

"Perhaps."

"Devious," you chuckle. "Still, a walk would be lovely." You turn back to Daphne. "I assume this has to do with the Duke?"

Daphne puts on a smile, but her eyes don't quite light up. You don't question it. "It may," she says softly.

Benedict offers you his arm. "Shall we?"

You take it and nod.

While Daphne would be with the Duke and chaperoned by Lady Danbury and her mother, the rest of the family were free to stroll at their leisure.

Benedict kept you on his arm as you walked with him and his brothers.

"It's lovely out." You comment.

"Yes, very." Anthony responds, but his mind is elsewhere. "Excuse me." He walks off in a hurry.

"What's wrong with him?" You ask.

"I do not know," Benedict sighs.

Daphne and the Duke have gone way ahead. Lady Danbury and Bridgerton are following them.

"Shall we walk this way?" Benedict suggests. You walk with him, Colin trailing behind with his younger siblings, Gregory and Hyacinth.

"How did your sister manage to catch the Duke's attention? Not that she isn't beautiful or witty enough to capture such a gentleman."

Benedict laughs. "Gentleman? I've never heard him described as such."

"You mean because he is known for being... well, a rake?" You ask.

"Precisely."

"Are you a gentleman?" You ask him, looking at him curiously.

"Of course. All us Bridgerton boys are."

You hear Colin try to hide his chuckle behind you. You smile. "Somehow, I question the truth behind that statement."

"You simply don't know us well enough yet. In the last few weeks you've seen very little of us." He looks at you.

"I've seen you a great number of times for someone I bumped into at a ball."

He grins. "Funny."

"Is it?"

"I think so." He continues leading you through the park. "Are you coming back to ours after?" He asks.

"I'd hate to intrude further on your family."

"Nonsense." Colin speaks up from behind you. "You're welcome in our home."

You smile back at him. "Thank you. It feels strange to become so close to a family I've only really gotten to know."

Benedict looks at you softly. "I rather like having a fresh face to look at."

You laugh. "Careful. If your mother hears, she'll be on your case about finding a wife again."

"She knows I shall not find one in you."

"Splendid. I am certain there is some fine gentleman somewhere in London who will suit me quite nicely."

Benedict chuckles.

♡♡♡

You find yourself back in the drawing room of the Bridgerton Estate. Violet had fetched tea for everyone which you were currently enjoying quite nicely.

Daphne was playing the piano quite nicely in the background.

"Two dances? With a duke?" Hyacinth asks, smiling.

"He was quite taken with your sister, Hyacinth." Violet says proudly. "The entire party was, for that matter. All eyes were on Daphne."

You smile at them as you glance at Daphne. She is focused on her piano playing.

"Are you sure the entire party was not simply eyeing a tear in her dress?" Colin asks, sitting next to Benedict.

You were sat across from the brothers. You give Colin a narrowed stare.

"Or some misstep she took on the dance floor?" Benedict asked.

"You two are terrible," you say to them. Both of them smile at you with boyish grins.

"I do wonder, Daphne, might we count on the Duke at the Crawford ball?" Violet asks her daughter.

"I should think it a fair chance."

"What about the Ramsbury ball, Friday? And what about the grand picnic?"

"We shall see, Mama."

The excitement was evident in Violet. She was happy for her daughter's chances.

As the youngest siblings discuss Francesca being away for the rest of the season, Eloise comes in with quite the question.

"How does a lady come to be with child?"

You choke on your tea.

Daphne stops playing.

"Elosie, what a question!" Violet exclaims.

"I thought one needed to be married," she says right after.

"Whatever are you talking about?" Daphne asks her sister.

"Apperantly, its not even a requirement." Elosie says.

"Eloise, that is enough." Violet puts a stop to this conversation.

Eloise nods and goes to sit between her two older brothers. Violet tries to encourage Daphne to carry on playing the piano.

"I take it the two of you know?" Elosie asks thr men beside her.

"Do not look at me," Benedict says.

You hide your chuckle behind your cup.

"Have you ever visited a farm, El?" Colin asks.

Benedict smacks him round the back of the head, nudging Eloise in the process, who growls in discomfort. Violet turns around to face her children. "I do hope the two of you are not encouraging improper topics of conversation."

"Not at all, Mother." Benedict says.

"In fact, we were just heading off to... take our sticks out."

"Colin Bridgerton!" Violet scolds.

"A round of fencing!" He clarifies.

You bite back a smile as Benedict rises from seat along with his brother. He looks at you with a grin and then departs.

Poor Violet looked like she was going to suffer from those boys.

All other conversations in the room are put on a halt as it is declared that Humboldt is coming.

Daphne rises in delight.

You look up at watch as Humboldt enters the room.

"Has someone arrived, Humboldt?" Daphne asks.

"Callers for Miss Daphne, ma'am."

Daphne squeals with excitement.

"But... the duke? You already have a caller, dearest."

"Well, I suppose now I have more." She says excitedly.

You rise from your seat and approach Violet. "I shall take my leave. I think, perhaps, you're going to be quite busy."

Violet smiles at you softly. "Yes, quite. It was good having you, dear. Come again, won't you?"

You nod with a smile. As you walk past Daphne, you smile again, tapping her arm gently. "Good luck."

She thanks you and you leave.

As you exit the house, you find many gentlemen making their way to the door. She did not just have one or two callers. She had many.

Daphne was a diamond after all.

♡♡♡

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[glassartpeasants]

Supernova trio reacting to you cupping their cheeks and kissing them before saying, "I'm proud of you"

Characters: Luffy, Law, and Kid

GN!Reader

A/N: It literally came to me just now, and I needed to write it before I lost the motivation.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff

~~~

Luffy:

It was just one of those days on the sunny, everyone was relaxing and enjoying not being shot at by marines or defending themselves by other pirates. Robin with her flowers, Nami sunbathing, Zoro napping in the warm sun while Brook played his music next to him. Sanji making drinks for everyone while Franky tinkered on the Mini Merry. Usopp working on new inventions while Chopper studied next to him.

The only one yet to be seen was your boyfriend, Luffy.

"Luffy! Hey, where are you?" You walked around the ship calling out for him, yet no response. He usually came to you after you even called his name. Was he below deck or up in the crow's nest?

"(Y/N)!" Just while you were thinking about where to look next, you hear the telltale sound of Luffy's sandals running at you at full speed. Turning around, you see your boyfriend lunging at you before wrapping his rubber body around you. Both of your fall to the ground on your butt.

"There you are! Where were you? I've been looking for you!"

"I was making something!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! Here! It's for you!" Luffy untangled his arms from your torso before shoving a piece of paper to your chest. Grabbing it, you brought it to your face to look at it. You saw a drawn picture with you and him holding hands with the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" written on it.

"I made sure to give it my all!" You can feel your heart melting as you look at it.

Placing it down next to you, you move your hands to cup his warm cheeks. You rub your thumb along his cheekbone before leaning in to kiss him on the tip of his nose.

"I love it Luffy. It's perfect, I'm so proud of you." Luffy looked at his nose wide-eyed with a light red painting his cheeks before looking back up at you with a wide smile.

~~~

Law:

It wasn't uncommon for your boyfriend to be locked away in his office. Working and studying about anything and everything under the sun. He put his studies before his own health almost all the time.

It was hypocritical cause he'd chastise you if you did the same.

Despite that, you walked to his office with coffee and some onigiri just to keep him at least a bit healthy. A smile plastered on your face as you knocked on his door.

"Come in." Carefully opening the door to make sure you don't spill, you slip through without an incident.

"Hey, baby. I got you some coffee and snacks." You walk up to his desk and place the tray holding everything on the only unoccupied space left on his desk.

"Oh. Thank you (Y/N)-ya." You watch him grab an onigiri before taking a big bite, his eyes still focused on his paperwork. Walking up behind him, you place your hands on his shoulders and gently start to massage them. You feel him tense for a split second before letting out a sigh as he eased into your touch.

"What you working on?"

"I took a test and now I'mm correcting myself."

"And?" you see him place his pen down as he yawned.

"I got them all right." His long, drawn-out words had you giggling as you put your hands on his cheeks and moved his head so he had to look up at you. You gently took off his hat and placed it on some of the papers. He gave you a puzzled look at your actions.

"What are you-" Leaning down, you place a soft kiss on his forehead. You looked down at him and admired how the light framed his face from that angle.

"Well, I'm very proud of you for working so hard to get them all right." You can see the pink dusting his cheeks as he looks shocked to hear you say such things. He looks to the side to avoid eye contact as his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

"Thank you..."

~~~

Kid:

The feeling of your brutish boyfriend holding you close as the two of you lay under the covers has a permanent smile on your face. You loved being in his arms and enjoying his touch. The safety he promised always scared away the nightmares that threatened your sleep.

Looking up, you see Kid with his eyes closed and his hair messy, no longer held up by his goggles. He looked so peaceful and contempt while he slept that you couldn't help but admire him.

"Enjoying the view?" You see him open an eye while a smirk plays along his lips.

"Very. What? Can't I admire my perfect boyfriend?" Rolling his eyes, you see the red creeping up along his neck and face. He always got so embarrassed when you complimented him. It was truly your favorite pastime.

"I simply like admiring my strong, handsome, decently smart boyfriend." You see the small look of offense appearing on his face at your last words. The feeling of him pinching your thigh had you yelping yet giggling.

"I'm kidding! Only a smart guy would be able to create such beautiful metal artwork and machinery." Using your elbows, you push yourself up so that you're face to face with him. His amber eyes staring directly into yours as he waited to see your next move.

Moving your hands to cup his cheeks, you kiss his lips passionately. You can feel Kid smirk as he kisses you back with the same amount of energy. His arm pulls you even closer, and you feel him rub his hand along your back.

Pulling away from his lips, you move a stray hair behind his ear as he pouted. The freckles that covered his face calling you to kiss every inch of his face. Your heart felt like it was gonna burst out of your chest with how much love you felt for him in that moment.

"I'm so proud of you, baby. No doubt in my mind that you'll be the King of the Pirates." His eyes widen at your words before red covers his entire face. The face that once held a smirk now soft as he took in your words. He moved his head to your neck just so you couldn't see how much your words affected him any more than you already had.

"I love you, Kid." You run your fingers through his silky hair as you hold him close. You feel him kiss your neck before mumbling against your skin,

"I love you too."

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Minho are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (7,2k words)

Author's note: Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy my gift to you ❤️

HOST: Welcome to the Too Hot To Handle reunion! Today, we're going to get all the updates on your favorite couples and what happens once they return to the real world. And I know, you're all dying to know if the couples are still together or not but in the meantime, let's find out if our sexy group of people remember all the times they broke the rules.

-

AGNES: Uh, I did a lot [cringes]

LUCA: I wish I had broken more rules. [Laughs]

YOU: The kiss Agnes and I did with Jack.

JAI: [Counts with fingers] There's just a lot of 'em.

BRYAN: Uhm... I'm the accountant, remember?

MINHO: The sex?

YOU: Then I broke more rules with Minho.

AGNES: Oh, the kiss with Jack!

JACK: Just once but I kissed the two hottest girls in the retreat [grins]

-

HOST: Here's the couple who broke half of those rule breaks and managed to win the show. Welcome back, lovebirds!

MINHO: [Waves hand]

YOU: Hi, gorgeous! [Smiles]

HOST: You guys won. Congratulations! [Claps]

YOU: Thanks, girl!

MINHO: Thank you.

HOST: So, what are you guys doing with the money? Are you guys sharing it? Or maybe... saving it for the wedding? [Chuckles]

MINHO: I make her keep all the money.

YOU: He insists that I handle it.

HOST: Uh-oh. I sense something wrong. What is it? Tell us all about it...

MINHO: [Shrugs]

YOU: Ugh!

MINHO: We were supposed to go on this trip together.

YOU: [rolls eyes]

HOST: Girl, I can see you holding back. Spill!

YOU: [Sighs] Well, since I'm taking care of the money, I thought it would be nice to go on a trip together with the money we've won. On the day we were supposed to leave, we had an argument so yeah...

HOST: Oh, no [frowns]

YOU: I booked the flights, the Airbnb... I have to cancel all of that because he canceled last minute like... [exhales air]

HOST: Minho, you want to add to that?

MINHO: That's all true. We argued on the day of the flight and I canceled.

YOU: And I texted him, you know, he could have still come, we could sort things out face to face but no, he didn't reply to any of my texts.

HOST: If I were you, I would have still gone on that vacation.

YOU: Honestly, I was looking forward to that trip, I want to spend time with him and have fun... [sighs] I was a little heartbroken by that.

HOST: Just to clarify... are you still together or not?

YOU: I'm just going to let it out of my chest that I... I will always have love for Minho and I support him, I'll always be attracted to him. I—

HOST: I'm sorry, girl but you have to hold it right there and we'll get back to you later.

-

HOST: If there's one thing that the villa proves is that people are complicated and one person knows this more than most... it's Zara!

ZARA: [Blows kisses] Hi, hello! That's actually the nicest way to put it, it's complicated [laughs]

HOST: Let me tell you, I was sad to see you got eliminated [pouts]

ZARA: Aww... but that's the thing, I came home not feeling sad at all, and to feel that, I usually have to go out with friends and have a few drinks. But I was sitting at my home thinking of what Lana taught me and what I'd learned... [smiles] It was all a good life lesson.

HOST: What made you feel that way about your elimination?

ZARA: I don't know, I woke up feeling like I learned enough in the retreat, obviously, I didn't want to keep hurting myself and get myself into more drama... [inhales] it's for the best.

HOST: Are you seeing anyone at the moment?

ZARA: Yeah and he's amazing, he's sweet and fun and he's just as obsessed with me as I do for him [chuckles]

HOST: I love that, yeah. You just feel like want to eat him, right?

ZARA: [Laughs]

HOST: But in regards to what happened to you and Bryan, have you spoken to each other ever since? Are you on good terms?

ZARA: He sent me some texts once the show ended but that's just that [thinly smiles] let's just leave it at that.

HOST: It was fun catching up with you but I have to go and talk to Agnes and Jai.

ZARA: Send my love for them [Blows kisses]

HOST: And I am sending you my love. Cheers, babe!

-

HOST: I cannot wait to find out if they're still horny for each other, it's one of my favorite couples, Jai and Agnes!

AGNES: Hi, hi! [Makes smooching sounds]

JAI: G'day! [Grins]

HOST: I never knew I missed that grin of yours, Jai! [Chuckles]

JAI: I know [grins] I'm doing it for you.

HOST: Shush it, boy! Your girl is here!

AGNES: I'm very aware of how flirtatious my man could be. But I'm watching you [squints eyes]

JAI: [Holds both hands up]

HOST: Tell us what happened after the show. Are you guys still naughty and horny?

JAI: Oh, yes.

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: She stayed with me for a while, back when I was still having a roommate and he asked me if we were alright. We kept going at it that it concerned him.

AGNES: Oh, my God!

HOST: Oh! You two are just so passionate [laughs]

AGNES: [Nods] [giggles]

JAI: We are!

HOST: Now, for the most important question, are you guys still together or not?

JAI: We had a little break then we just kind of... found a way back to each other.

AGNES: [smiles] We are still together. Yay!

HOST: Oh, thank Goodness!

JAI: A month ago, is it? We took a trip together and eventually met her sister and her family.

AGNES: It was unplanned! [Laughs] [shows hand] There's no ring yet, everyone.

HOST: Jai? Any plans to put a ring on it then?

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: Uh... to be continued?

HOST: It's been lovely, you guys. I hope you two stay happy.

AGNES: And horny?

HOST: Yes [laughs] Thank you and see you [blows kisses]

-

HOST: Before we get to the final interview, the guests are sharing their best moments in the villa.

AGNES: Oddly enough, I missed the dressing room, I guess that's because we gossip so much in there [giggles]

JACK: The kiss, obviously [laughs]

LUCA: The first party in the villa. That was... just wild and so much fun.

MAISIE: The final date I had with Luca was just romantic, probably the nicest date I ever had.

YOU: It's all the times Sabine and I hang out in the pool. Then there's also the time when Minho said he likes me, with the cushion and everything [laughs] that was just so special.

BRYAN: Just having with the guys, I guess, we were fooling around a lot, just lots of laughs.

-

HOST: Finally, we have come to the most awaited moment. Let me take a deep breath first [inhales] [exhales] Okay, we're ready now.

YOU: Where were we? [Laughs]

MINHO: The canceled trip and you were sad about it.

YOU: Yes, that... we had arguments like that not once or twice, I think that's just our love language [laughs]

HOST: That's kind of sexy, actually.

YOU: At that time, I just knew I had to be the one putting on the big girl pants, again [rolls eyes] if he didn't want to come to me then I'll just come to him.

HOST: Oh, my God! Is it like one of those movie scenes where the girl chasing the guy—

YOU: yeah, it's pretty much like that but the problem was... it was around Christmas and you know how hard it is to get a flight during holidays, it was a nightmare but I went through all that to see him.

HOST: And...?

YOU: It was cold and snowing, I dragged behind me, and knocked on his door, expecting that his face would light up when he saw me...

HOST: Oh, no, I sense a 'but' coming...

MINHO: I was just telling you to stop knocking [shrugs]

YOU: That's what he did, he scolded me for knocking on his door.

HOST: It keeps getting worse... I don't think I want to hear the rest.

MINHO: We're still together, we made up that day.

HOST: Oh, thank you Minho. I was close to having a cardiac arrest [clutches chest]

YOU: [Smiles] I didn't mean to scare anyone, sorry. We're still together, we still argue sometimes but we're still together, thank God!

HOST: That's good to hear so what are the plans now? Besides trying to be civil with each other [laughs]

YOU: Oh, before I forget, Minho also said the L word that day [giggles]

HOST: What? How could you hide it from it?

YOU: We were exchanging Christmas presents and he casually dropped the L bomb.

MINHO: Casually?

YOU: Honey... [laughs] I didn't say I don't like it. See? [Sighs] We need a couple counseling.

HOST: That's not a bad idea [chuckles]

YOU: I think it was special that there were only the two of us, it was intimate and heartfelt, and it couldn't be more perfect [smiles]

HOST: Minho, that... I didn’t know you were such a gentle guy.

MINHO: I've been meaning to say it, I just... didn't have the right time to say it.

YOU: Because we're always arguing.

HOST: [Laughs] I love that you guys complete each other's sentences.

YOU: I know, that's why I love us. That, and also because the make-up sex is just... [moans] [thumbs up]

HOST: Ugh, okay, you got me jealous now. I'll leave you two back to arguing then [laughs] Best wishes to you two, my loves! [Blows kisses]

-

HOST: It's been a blast catching up with all the casts of Too Hot To Handle Season 2. Thank you so much for watching, see you next time!

-

LAST CHRISTMAS 

"I don't chase, I attract."

You say those words out loud and manifest them to the world when you meditate in the morning but here you are, getting off the plane to chase a guy who canceled your planned trip at the last minute and not replying to your calls or texts.

You might have attracted him but nobody tells you that you have to chase him around too.

The layers of clothes that should have shielded you from the cold only make your body hot and soon drenched in sweat.

Why there are so many stairs? Why Minho has to live up on the hill? Why is your suitcase so heavy? Why did you pack so many clothes? Why are you here at all?

Despite the fatigue that slowly taking over you, you manage to conquer the last flight of stairs and arrive at his house.

After hours of bustling through the airport and the traffic, not to mention, dragging your luggage through the street, you're aware of how you look and it's not how you want Minho to see you when he opens the door.

But he should be appreciative of your intentions to come here and surprise him.

Right?

Can't believe you have second thoughts when you're already standing right in front of his door, why couldn't you have these thoughts before you got on the plane?

You throw away your worries and stop thinking altogether, your hands start knocking on the door. Once, twice... no one opens the door.

Oh, God? What if he's not home? What if—

You keep knocking on his door in case he didn't hear you the first two times. Your knocking is almost turning into a banging when he finally pulls the door open.

Minho stands there and looks at you with your hand hanging mid-air.

"You can stop knocking now," he says, scolding you for the aggressive knocking.

You don't expect confetti or cake or grand entrance music, but not this either, just you and him, looking at each other in silence.

Another moment passes and Minho opens the door wider, "Why are you just standing there? It's cold, get in!" He scolds you again.

It's only been a few minutes but he has scolded you twice already and weirdly, you obey him, getting into his house, pulling your luggage behind you.

Something is beeping from inside the house and Minho runs to check it, you allow yourself to go further inside. You take off your coat and purse, putting them on top of your suitcase before continuing to look around his house.

It's not small, not big either and it's obvious that he keeps it tidy and clean. You expect nothing less than that.

It's like seeing a movie scene, except that it's real. Minho looks exceptionally gorgeous in his dark sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and one hand that is busy stirring something in a pot.

"Go wash your hands!" He orders.

You're too deep in your daydream to listen to him the first time and only get what he said the second time.

"Dinner is almost ready," he adds, closing the pot with a lid and then turning off the stove.

"Where's the—"

"The door behind you," he answers your unfinished question.

You're too tired to bicker with him and the smell of the soup he's cooking is appetizing, making your stomach rumbling in hunger.

Is it why Minho is not that happy to see you? You look horrible with your eyes looking dark and heavy with exhaustion, your hair is greasy and stuck to your forehead.

There's no time to dig into your suitcase to get your toiletry bag so you do everything to make yourself look presentable, wash your face, and brush your hair with your fingers, hoping that it's enough for now.

Minho has already set everything on the dining table when you return from the bathroom, looking at the food he's serving, your stomach is getting impatient on being filled with some home-cooked meals.

"This looks good," you say, taking a seat on the dining table.

He doesn't say anything to your compliment but goes to the kitchen to bring back a pitcher of water, then sits opposite you.

Minho immediately starts digging into his food and as much as you want to do the same, you're hoping to hear something from him other than commands.

"Do you perhaps... want to say something to me?" You carefully say.

He continues eating, taking a few things from different plates and eating them with a spoonful of rice.

"Like... 'oh, what a nice surprise!' or 'I'm happy to see you, honey'," you recite a few lines you wished to hear him saying yet he seems to enjoy his food too much to pay attention to what you're saying.

You softly sigh and pick up your spoon, "A hug would be nice," you mumble.

He glances up from his bowl of rice and looks at you, "You must be hungry. Eat!"

You cave in, obeying him again, and eat the food just like he ordered. Maybe because you were hungry, you feel less upset now that your stomach is filled.

You help with the dishes after dinner, drying your hands with a towel once you're finished then refill your glass with more red wine before leaning against the counter, watching Minho slicing up fruits, he looks so relaxed but maybe because he's in his element, in his own place.

"You're different at home," you mutter, then take a small sip of your wine.

He glances at you for a second before focusing back on the task in hand, the hand gripping the knife showcasing the evident veins on his forearm.

"Off-guard," you point out.

He pauses cutting an apple then looks at you, "Should I be on guard?"

To other people, Minho may seem like he's trying to pick a fight with you but that's just how he communicates, a bit snarky with a whole lot of nonchalance in it.

It's a good thing that you've been with him long enough to know how to handle him. You put your wine glass away and smile, "You're the one holding a knife, I should be the one on guard."

He smirks hearing your words and it took you this long to make him do that.

"So... will you put the knife down so you can kiss your girlfriend who came all the way to see you?" You sweetly ask, tilting your head to the side and batting your eyelashes at him even though you're not sure these flirting tricks would work on him.

You see that he loosens the grip around the knife and you come closer to him, "That's it, easy, easy..." you playfully say.

You take his other hand and let the knife drop onto the cutting board, turning him to face you. Holding his eyes in a gaze, you slide your hands up his arms then reunite them on the nape of his neck.

"I missed you," you softly mutter but your heart is close to shattering.

"So much," you say all of those words out while deeply looking into his dark brown eyes as they stare down into yours.

"Do you miss me?"

Minho hates it when you're insecure like this but you can't help it, it's just happens when you care so much about someone so let's hope he still knows that.

Then he leans in and kisses you, answering your question with a fiery kiss that melts your worries away until the only thing that remains is the warm feeling he brings with those lips.

When he pulls away, you forget the reason why you ever doubted him.

He then rests his hand on your back, he then slowly and deliberately blinks his eyes before saying, "I missed you too."

It's nice to hear that you're not the only one suffering from the longing. You smile knowing that he thought of you when you weren't here with him even though you're sure not as many times as you thought of him.

"Okay, good, the feeling is still mutual," you awkwardly say with a dry chuckle.

What can you say? Dating Minho is not for the faint of heart, it takes a lot of patience and courage, and it takes... a lot of things.

But is he worth it? The answer is Minho worth everything and more.

- 

The shower helps you get rid of the stress that’s been clinging onto you and you come out refreshed, not feeling tired at all. If anything, you feel excited to spend the rest of the night with Minho, catching up on a lot of things.

Before that, you make yourself presentable this time, putting on your night dress and drying your hair real quick. You notice the toiletry bag Minho brought to the villa is on the sink and it seems like he packed it recently. You shrug it off, keeping your skincare routine brief, impatiently wanting to join Minho on his bed.

On your way to the bedroom, you also notice that he packed a suitcase in his closet, you wonder if he’s planning to go somewhere soon.

Minho is sitting on his bed reading a book, doing it so elegantly like he’s in a furniture TV ad.

“Are you going somewhere?” You get on the bed and lay on your stomach facing him.

“Huh?” He asks without looking away from his book.

You peek over to see the book he’s reading, from the cover you can see that it’s either a mystery, thriller, or horror book, it could be all of that combined.

“I saw your suitcase, packed,” you tell him.

He lowers his book to look at you, “unpacked, you mean,” he says.

Ah, that explains it but looking at how he keeps his things in his house tidy, there’s no way he lets his things stay in his suitcase for too long.

“You should dry your hair. You’ll catch a cold,” he says nonchalantly yet oozing with affection.

This is why you love him, he’s hot and cold, always keeping you on your toes, dating him is one endless thrilling ride.

“I just didn’t dry the end,” you tell him.

The talk about the suitcase reminds you of something. You roll over to the side of the bed and open your suitcase, taking two gift boxes you actually prepared for tomorrow. You bring them over to the bed, sitting next to Minho and place the smaller box first onto his lap.

“Merry Christmas,” You say with a bright smile on your face.

Minho raises an eyebrow at you then glares down at the gift on his lap, “What is it?”

“Your Christmas present from me,” you simply answer.

He seems way too calm for someone who receives a gift from his girlfriend and not sure you’re going to get used to this.

“Open it!” you impatiently say because he keeps observing the box and doing nothing to find out what’s inside.

He finally takes the lid off and sees the bracelet inside. You’re smiling as he takes it out to observe it. You hurriedly help him putting it around his wrist.

“Do you like it?” You ask once you clasped the ends together.

“Did you buy it with the prize money?” He asks with a sly grin.

Why he’s making it hard for you? You must admit that Minho makes you realize that you have a lot of patience in you. You take a deep, deep sigh and put on a big smile for him.

“I’m glad you like it and you’re very welcome,“ you respond, not going to make this supposed-to-be-a-heartfelt-moment into an argument.

It’s time to hand him the second box, instead of putting it on his lap, you drop it right on his crotch as a way to get back to him. He doesn’t flinch but pulls the box closer to his chest before opening it. You put your hand on top of the lid, stopping him from opening it.

“It’s not for you,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Then why did you give it to me?”

“Because I know you don’t have a Christmas present prepared for me so I got you one,” you explain.

It takes him a moment to process your words, “So, you bought this for me to gift to you?”

“Yes,” you answer without a beat.

He bursts into laughter and the box is shaking along with his body as he laughs, “So it- this one for you?”

You take the box from him and smile at him, “Thank you for the present, honey,” you say, then place a quick peck on his lips.

You put on an act, pretending not to know what’s inside the box and slowly uncovering it, taking the lid off with low exciting squeals coming out of your parted mouth. You tear through the wrapping paper and gasp at the sight of the content.

“Oh, my God! Honey…” You coo at him.

You take the pair of lingerie out of the box and show it to him, “This is so beautiful!” You exclaim with excitement even though you were the one who bought it.

“You like it?” He’s slyly smiling as he asks you.

“Are you kidding me? I love it!” You dramatically ask, clutching the gift close to your chest.

You lean in close and tilt your head to the side, “Ugh! You know me so well,” You sneer, then peck his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” He coyly asks.

You put everything into the box and sigh, “I wanted to put them on and show them to you but…”

You put the lid back onto the box, excessively raising your shoulders, and slump them down as you let out another dramatic sigh, “I’m not in the mood.”

Minho snorts and puts away the boxes, stacking them on the bedside table, “Yeah, you’d better rest, you must be tired.”

And Minho always picks the worst time to be considerate towards you, you roll your eyes and stomp your feet as you walk back to your suitcase, tossing the lingerie into your suitcase and angrily shut it.

“But if you’re not tired, I would love to see you in them,” he says with a devilish smile dancing on his beautiful face.

Hate that you melt right away to his sweet consolidation, your foot is tapping the floor as you pretend to consider his request.

“Well… if you insist,” you say, grabbing the lingerie back from your suitcase.

You’re giggling as you walk to Minho’s closet, changing out of your night dress and putting the lingerie on. As you’re changing, you see Minho’s backpack sitting next to his “unpacked” suitcase. You don’t mean to snoop but it’s open, you can see what’s inside. Using your fingers, you pry it open wider and see that he has a plane ticket clamped between his passport, you reach down to take a look at it when he calls from you from the bedroom.

It feels as if you got caught stealing, you scramble to leave the closet and Minho is putting something into his bedside drawer when you come back. He looks at you, confused to see you standing in a silk robe that comes with the lingerie.

“That’s not the same as what I bought for you,” he playfully says, sitting on the edge of the bed facing you.

You come up to him and stop right in front of him, “Jeez, Minho! You’re not a kid anymore, unwrap your gift yourself,” you tell him with a cheeky smile.

It’s a good thing that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating right now and it’s beating faster when he looks up, staring into your eyes as his hands reach for your silk robe, untying it until they part open.

You do the rest, sliding the silk robe down your arms and letting it fall onto the carpeted floor. You take a final step, closing the gap between you and him.

He places his hands on each side of your waist, his fingers teasing the thin straps of the lacy underwear but his eyes never stray away from yours even for a moment

“So…?” You curiously ask since he’s not saying anything the moment he sees them on you.

He glides his hands up to your back and draws you close until his lips land on your abdomen, inhaling your scent as he kisses it, making you flutter inside. After a while, he glances up at you and says, “Glad I bought it.”

That sends you into a laughing fit and at the same, he pulls you until you both collapse onto the bed.

-

A breathless gasp escapes your parted mouth as Minho inserts his fingers inside you, he uses two digits to find that spot that makes you let out another gasp, louder, almost inaudible.

He’s hovering above you as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace and his face is so calm, a contrast to your state: a moaning mess under him.

He presses a kiss on you with tongue and teeth clashing in your mouth, his kisses are hungry, it feels as if he wants to eat you whole.

“Oh…” You moan again, feeling his fingers curl inside you.

Minho then drags his mouth down your chest, using his free hand he yanks down the cup of your bra just so he can suck on your nipple and leave it soaked and wet with his saliva. He continues his trail of wet kisses down your body and he stops with his head hanging between your legs, watching your eyes fluttering as he keeps pumping his fingers.

He pulls your underwear to the side and keeps it there, without wasting another second, he plants his mouth on your cunt, not caring how wet it is. He lifts his head for a moment, using the tip of his tongue to trace your folds and gently, circling your clit that is pulsating with so much desire.

Minho dives down into your wetness again and this time, he lands right on your clit and sucks hard on it.

“Oh, fu-“You can’t even finish your profanity, your voice is shaking and so are your legs.

You slip your hands into his hair, tugging at it as he keeps on sucking and it’s a fruitless effort to try to stop him, the more you try, the harder he sucks on your clit and the faster he pumps his fingers, making you overwhelmed with pleasure.

The only conclusion is Minho won’t stop until you

“I’m- oh, I’m cumming…” you whine, helplessly tugging at his hair.

He hovers above you again but now, he slowly puts his body on top of you, pinning you as he presses kisses on your lips, making you dizzy as he can’t stop kissing you until you run out of breath.

“Honey…” you sigh as you gently push his chest away.

You smile at him and put your hand on the back of his head, wanting to keep him close to you. As you catch your breath, you allow yourself to take a moment to enjoy this moment with him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips and then letting out a low sigh as you pull away.

“Gosh…how I missed you!” You pour out all of the emotions you’ve been keeping inside you and seal the hole in your heart with a kiss that yet again, takes your breath away.

It’s time to show him how much your body misses him. You pull the hem of his sweater and take it off of him to continue kissing him. Slowly, you roll him to the side until he lays next to you and overlaps half of his body with yours.

Minho lets you have the pleasure of doing whatever you want to him, he puts his hands over his head as your hand goes lower and slips it under his sweatpants, palming his member before letting it out.

You glance down to see how his cock is hardening in your hand, “Oh, he’s excited to see me,” you playfully mutter to him.

 “What are you going to do then?” He coyly asks.

“Mmh…” you delightfully sigh as you pretend to think of an answer all the while your thumb is circling the tip of his cock.

“I just have so many ideas,” you answer him with a seductive tone.

To execute your ideas, you first get rid of his sweatpants then sit on his thick thighs. You seductively smile at him as you take hold of his cock in your hand again, slowly stroking it with your clothed cunt only inches away from it.

You both wanted it but what’s the fun in giving in to the temptations right away?

His cock is swollen and hard, so ready for you and you are just as eager to take him but refrained yourself. Instead of that, you lean down to lick the tip of his cock with your tongue. The second time, you place a lick from the base up to the tip and then stroke it again.

“How you like that?” you tease him.

Minho doesn’t say anything, he remains calm but his body tells you otherwise, not only his cock, his body reddens all over, his chest, his ears, his cheeks… he’s completely turned on.

You tease him by rubbing his cock to your clothed core, “Mmh… yeah,” you hum in pleasure.

To tease him more, you put his cock inside your underwear, soaking it with your essence as you start grinding on him, unknowingly teasing yourself too in the process.

The yes he’s giving you… oh, it’s so intense, so full of lust, he looks at you like you’re the sexiest thing he ever laid his eyes on, making you feel so wanted, and admired. You suddenly feel a charge of confidence surging all over you and you lean down, kissing him with so much passion until you drain all the air in your lungs.

“Screw this!” you mutter.

 Carefully, you push his cock inside you and ease yourself down, taking him little by little until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You just sit there to adjust yourself to his size, closing your eyes as your hands start touching yourself.

Minho gets his hands on you too, he places them on your thighs and glides them up the sides of your body. You take his hands, using them to cup your breasts and fondle them together. You’re lowly moaning as he squeezes on them.

Minho only stops just to pull you close so he can kiss you, putting his arms around you to not let you go and without warning, he starts bucking his hips into you. You can tell he’s smirking against your lips while you let out a broken moan.

“That’s not-oh, not fair!” you mumble yet pressing another kiss on him.

Minho insists on you keeping the lingerie on, he ends up being the one taking it off of you and tossing it onto the bedroom floor. He made you climax twice already but Gosh, looking at him passionately making love to you, you can already tell you’re going to climax for the third time.

“Oh, my God! You feel so good,” You murmur into his shoulders with your fingers clawing his back.

Minho crashes his lips on you, deepening his kiss as he thrusts harder into you. He can sense that you’re about to cum again, he adds intensity to his thrusts and goes as shallow as possible.

Your eyes are screwed shut, feeling the knot inside you keep tightening, getting close to your-

Minho slows down, knowing that you just cum around him and the way he kisses, it’s so gentle as if he knows that you’re already overly stimulated.

You hold him close as you come down from your high, returning his kisses while keeping him inside you.

“You’re not going to stop, are you?”

You brush his hair back with your fingers, putting all the hair covering his face and holding his jaw, “Don’t stop, honey,” you whine.

Nothing gets him off than hearing how needy you are for him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and pull him closer, “I don’t want you to stop until you cum inside me,” you whisper into his ear.

That seems to work as planned, Minho picks up the pace of his thrusts, harder and deeper, giving what you both wanted.

You give up on holding in your moans, you let them spill out of your parted mouth and as he gets closer to his release, you press a haste kiss on his mouth.

“Want you to cum inside me, honey,” you whine again.

You have to pause a few times as he mercilessly pulsates his hips against you and the bed creaks along to his movements.

“Oh, please, please!” you sigh.

“Minho, please!”

At this point, you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or keep going, the pain and pleasure start to blur into one. You hold onto his shoulders with fingers digging into this flesh and forming crescent marks on his warm, honey skin.

It takes Minho a few more thrusts to finally cum inside you, releasing all of his seed inside you as he collapses on top of you. You embrace him, holding him with so much love, and kiss him with all of your heart until it quakes inside your chest.

Minho hastily kisses your lips, then drags his mouth close to your ear, you’re already drowsy and tired from the day that you barely can keep your eyes open anymore. You can hear him mutter something into your ear but when you’re about to tell him to repeat it, you fall asleep instead.

-

"Honey, wake up!"

If it isn't because of the hand squeezing your asscheek, you wouldn't have budged from your sleep. When you try to open your eyes, they are heavy and you feel like taking another hour of sleep.

Then Minho bites at your arm, making you jolt on your bed in reaction.

"Minho!" You sharply gasp.

"Wake up!" He says again, now slapping at your ass cheek.

Your feet are kicking the duvet as you whine like a fussy kid, "It's too early."

You turn over on the bed, lying on your side to face him, and croak, "What time is it?"

"One."

"One a.m?"

Minho presses a kiss on your shoulder then gets up from the bed, "Come on, wake up!"

He walks out of the bedroom and leaves the door ajar. You force yourself away and rub your eyes before opening them.

The daylight is almost blinding you and you immediately shut your eyes again, scooting to the side and your hand reaches for your phone on the bedside table.

You tap the screen until it lights up, showing you that it's indeed one o'clock in the afternoon. You must be tired from the flights, dragging your suitcase up the hill in the cold, and then there was the sex, a lot of sex. You remember how you passed out not long after he cum inside you.

Oh no, you missed the whole Christmas morning and that's not the plan. You thought of how nice it would be to snuggle together with Minho on the sofa while having hot chocolate on Christmas morning.

Instead of that, you stand in front of the sink and feel horrified to see your reflection in the mirror, how tired and miserable you look after ten hours of sleep.

Instead of wearing your clothes, you stop by his closet and borrow one of his comfiest knitted sweaters. His suitcase and his backpack are still there, you assume he didn't know you were snooping into his stuff.

Well, there's another reason to snoop in further to see where he's going with the flight ticket. You check for the situation first and waddle back inside, taking his passport out of the bag.

Minho looks so hot even on a government-issued ID photo and before you forget the main goal here, you flip it open to see the details of his flight ticket and you see it.

Unless he has someone else to see in the city you live in, you can safely assume that he planned on coming to see you too, and probably wants to spend the new year with you.

"I knew it!" You exclaim to yourself with a giddy smile on your face.

You wanted to remain calm and pretend that you didn't see the flight ticket and everything but... you can't help but smile when you see him sipping his coffee in the kitchen.

Minho is what people say as one with the softest heart builds the hardest shell. He acts cold, nonchalant, and a bit mean, but that's how you know he really cares for you, and he's genuine and sincere about you.

You come up to him and throw your arms around him, not wasting time kissing his lips, putting all of your affection into this long kiss, and pull away with a gasp.

"Merry Christmas," you happily say to him.

Minho smiles and returns the kiss with a quick peck on your lips, "Coffee?"

You eagerly nod and you wait on the sofa, taking a cookie out of a plate full of them, watching the snow floating in the air through the window.

"Thank you," you mutter as he hands you your cup of steaming hot coffee.

"This is good," you tell him, taking another cookie from the plate.

"I made them," he casually says like he didn't put any effort into baking such delicious cookies.

Minho is good at a lot of things so when he said he made these cookies, you didn't doubt him even for a second.

You place a kiss on his cheek, "These are really good," you tell him again.

You might have missed the Christmas morning but there's always a time to snuggle close to him. It's quiet and warm, it's such a nice moment and to be able to spend it with him is one that you're most grateful for.

Suddenly, Minho takes something from the end of the sofa and shows it to you.

"For you?"

You stop chewing your cookie and put the rest away, "For me?"

He nods and coyly sips his coffee, watching you excitedly unwrapping the gift to find out what's inside.

You gasp as you see a necklace inside, white gold with a small pendant, delicate and beautiful.

"I love it," you tell him with a gleeful smile.

It's always the thoughts that counts. The fact that he thought of you when he picked this gift worth more than the gift itself.

"You should be. I bought it with my own money," he pokes fun at you.

You pout at him, handing him the box so he can put it on for you. You hold all of your hair up in your hands as he puts the necklace around your neck, safely clasping the ends together.

"I love it," you mutter again, letting go of your hair so you can bring his head close and give him a sweet little kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," you say as you break the kiss with a soft caress on his cheek.

He smiles and places a kiss on your cheek, then your jaw. When you think he's going to kiss your neck next, he brings his mouth close to your ear, and ever so softly he murmurs, "I love you."

Your heart shrinks and the next second, it expands twice its size, overflowing with warm feelings. You feel like flying, riding on the clouds of those three words.

"What did you say?" You ask with a foolish smile on your face.

He slyly smiles and sips his coffee, "You heard," he says.

"I heard but..." you lean in close to his side and hold his hand, "can you say it one more time?"

Your sweet smile and the fondness in your eyes are not enough to make him cave in. You should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

You pout and then sigh, but you feel the need to return those words to him. It's not because you have to, but you have known for a while that he is not just a passing fancy, you see a future with him, and as silly as it sounds, you can see yourself growing old with him.

What you have for him is real and it's powerful, it's taking over you.

You hold his jaw and turn his head to look at you, you lean in close until your noses meet in the middle, softly you nuzzle them together while softly smiling at him.

"I love you," you say back with all of your heart that it aches.

Then you place your lips against him and let your heart pour out, flowing all of your emotions into the kiss.

When you open your eyes, his eyes are staring straight into yours. He holds your gaze and lovingly, he says those three words again for you.

"I love you."

And in his eyes, you find comfort, safety, you find a home you want to live in, forever.

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[norizz-nation]

If you take requests, could you do this? Frat cocky Lando at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over with constant flirting and dirty talk, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and worship his c*ck through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

Girl, your idea is too hot! 😩🤌🏼

Denying the temptation 🧡

Summary: everyone at the christmas party knew that you hate lando but what they didn’t know is that although you hate him, you’re so cock drunk for him at the end of the party

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, degradation, slut shaming, face fucking, cock drunk reader, hair pulling

“You could’ve told me that he’s gonna be here too!” You stated coldly to your friend as you pointed your finger at lando’s direction who was talking to some random guy. Your friend furrowed her brows and looked at the direction you’re pointing at. “Why does that matter?” Your friend asked as she started to chuckle. “Of course it does matter because you know that i hate him!” you said as you rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink. “Y/n, love relax. Plus why do you hate him so much?” She asked curiously as she looked at you in the eye for your response.

You don’t know why but her question made you more frustrated. All you wanted to do was just leave this shitty party. You just can’t ruin your Christmas like that.

“Because he’s a fucking narcissists. He’s so obsessed with himself as if he’s the most breathtaking person on planet earth. It’s so fucking annoying” you said as your face started to turn red as the frustration rushed to your face. “But do you not know?” Your friend asked as you looked at her. “Know what?” You asked curiously. Your friend laughed softly and shrugged. “He likes you, y/n” she said, whispering those words to you.

You scrunched your nose and slapped her arm lightly and that made your friend laugh louder. “For fucks sake, he’s definitely faking it for some attention” you said as you rolled your eyes again and finished your drink. “No he’s literally telling everyone here that he likes you, I swear” your friend said. “And everyone here knows that i hate him” you said as you started to get really mad. You placed your cup down and brushed your hair from your face as you took a long breath closing your eyes. “I can’t even stand him. I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas” you said all those so fast that you’re not even sure if she heard you clearly or not. But that didn’t matter to you at this point because all you wanna do is just leave her house party.

Your friend was about to tell you to stop but you just ignored her and rushed to the main door. You got snapped back to reality when you bumped into someone, since you were looking down while rushing to the door. The person you bumped into was holding a cup filled with drink that spilled over both of you. Well mostly you. “Fuck sorry” you said as you looked up to see who is it. “Oh no no, I’m sorry” the guy said sounding very polite.

Seriously? Out of so many people at the party. It was Lando who you bumped into. Lando.

“The fuck” you murmured as you took a few steps back and tried to clean yourself with your hands but it was a bad try. Your whole dress is now ruined, only because of him. Lando took a few steps closer, breaking the distance between you two. “I can help, if you want” he said as he smirked at you.

Another reason why you hate lando. He’s so confident about himself. He thinks that he can make anyone a fan of him.

You shook your head and said nothing. You didn’t even look at him. “I can help clean you up” he said, mostly in a taunting tone. “No! Im fine” you said as you looked around for a napkin but couldn’t find it anywhere. You then let out a sigh and rushed to the bathroom. “Wait, I’ll come with you” Lando said and you walked faster so then you can go inside and lock the door before he even gets there. But he was fast.

Guess it just wasn’t your night. Nothing was going according to your plan.

You looked at the water run in the sink as Lando got a napkin and got it soaked in water. You sat quietly on the counter top looking at how he’s doing his work. You grabbed his wrist when you saw him trying to clean you up. “I think i can do this by myself” you said, sounding annoyed as Lando chuckled at your words. “But i can do it better” he said as he got closer and his face was just a few inches away from yours. His eyes were burning. You couldn’t take this temptation.

You don’t know why you felt this friction. You hate him. You can’t let him influence you.

The first wipe on the lower part of your collarbone made you breathe heavily. Your reaction made lando smirk proudly. “Dont be so proud about your work. The water is just cold” you said as you rolled your eyes and lando laughed softly and nodded his head.

His another wipe around your tits made you gulp and breathe sharply. The way his eyes were scanning every part of your body made your cheeks red. But you were denying it.

“Why are you wearing such a breathtaking outfit?” He asked as his eyes pierced on your skin. “Its not ‘breathtaking’ my friend made me wear this shit” you said. You’re wearing the iconic mean girls Christmas outfit but the little difference is that, your tits were showing a little bit more. Well, a lot more.

“Plus why are you wearing this?” You asked him as you pointed at his shirt that was barely there. Because you could see every tone of his muscles. His skin looking so smooth and perfect. It was attractive. “Aren’t you cold?” You asked him. “I’m always hot, if you know” he said in a cocky tone and you regretted asking him this question. His eyes traveled down your tits again as he began cleaning you up.

“Will you stop staring at my tits?” You asked, sounding annoyed as Lando snapped himself back to reality. “Will you stop showing your tits all the time?” He asked, taunting you as he smirked. “Shut up” you said as you furrowed your brows. “Dont know how. Make me?” he asked as he got closer to you. Your lips being inches away from his. You were about to give yourself to him but stopped and pressed your hand on his mouth. “Stop” you said.

Lando looked at you and bit the tip of your black glove you were wearing, since it was the part of the outfit. He looked at you in the eye and took your glove off with his teeth. “Oh never” he said, smirking at you as he took your glove and put it in his pocket.

You dont know why his words were making you feel things. But yet you’re still denying it. Denying the temptation.

The rest of the party you were wearing only one glove and your right hand was bare. The rest of the party? You stayed at party? Yes. Yes, you did. Lando made you stay. As the hours passed you felt a friction between you two again. Maybe he isn’t that bad. At least you can give him a try. Because why not?

“Lando, give me my glove back. I’m cold” you said, turning your head to his side. He was sitting beside you on the couch. He scoffed at you and grinned. He then came close to your ear so then he can whisper in your ear. “You’re literally dressed like a slutty little girl, showing off your tits and legs and youre cold because i took your glove? Thats cute” he said as he let out a breath in your ear that caused you goosebumps and smirked at you. His words made your head spin. He was making you want him. Can’t blame him, he’s just too hot. What were you thinking before? He’s so god damn hot.

Two hours passed away, most of your friends left the party. But youre still here. You dont wanna leave because the way his abs looked so perfect from your point of view making you practically drool for him. Lust was running through your whole body. The way Lando looked down at you made your heart stop. The gaze you two held was so powerful. His eyes were burning you. Burning you so deeply.

You ran your hands over his abs and bit on your lower lip. His abs were so toned. It sent shivers down your spine. “You’re so hot” you said, sounding lustful as you looked up at him with heart eyes. Lando raised his brows and smiled softly. “Didn’t you hate me?” He asked you tauntingly. “Oh im so stupid, you’re so.. so fucking hot” you said as you could feel your mouth water for him. “I want you” you whispered as you pulled his Calvin Klein boxer down with your teeth as you kept eye contact with him.

Lando let out a groan when he saw the sight in front of him. A few ‘oh fuck’ slipping from his mouth. You opened your mouth and stick your tongue out to lick him. All you wanna do is lick the tip of his dick and make him go crazy for you but your little plan didn’t go accordingly. You flinched when you felt Lando grab you by your jaw and make you look up at him. The smirk on his face was enough for you to tell that he was just pushing your buttons.

You let out a whine and ran your hands up and down his thighs. "Lando please.." you pleaded softly. Sounding desperate for him. The way his eyes lit up meant that he was liking the way you pleaded. "Please Lando please, I want you" you said, whining like a baby. "Funny how the girl who hates me is begging on her knees to fill her little mouth with my dick" he said as he laughed at you, making your cheeks go red. He then came closer to you and looked at you in the eye as he whispered, "Do you wanna get your pretty little mouth fucked by my dick?" he asked, smirking at you as he nodded lightly. You nodded your head rhythmically with him.

You couldn’t hear anything in the bathroom. All you could hear was gags coming out of your mouth and little groans coming out of lando's mouth. Lando tugged on your hair firmly as he pushed himsef inside of your mouth more. Your nose touched his pelvis as your mouth took his whole length inside.

A drool dripped down to your tits as you kept on gagging around his dick. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Yet, you wanted more. You looked up at him and let out a murmured 'more' to him. Lando then scoffed and pulled you by your hair, freeing you from his dick. Which you hated.

"You're so fucking cock drunk right now. Do you know that?" he asked, sounding cocky. You smiled and bit on your lower lip. "Please lando i want more. I want you" you pleaded in a whining tone as you looked at him with innocent eyes. So innocent as if you did not just let him face fuck you.

At this point your tits was covered totally with your spits and drools. Your make-up was ruined as your mascara rolled down your eyes. Leaving black stains on your blushy pink cheeks.

Lando was right. You are cock drunk for him.

Your nails dugged on his thighs as lando pushed your head further. The way his dick twitched signaled you that he's going to cum. "Your pretty little mouth did so well, you deserve my cum in your mouth" he said as he let out a groan that sent butterflies to your stomach. Your eyes rolled to the back when he came inside your mouth. His warm cum filled your mouth so well that it was making you cum untouched. His cum tasted so good. So fucking good.

You then pulled your head away and looked up at him. His cum overflowing in your mouth as it dripped down your chin. Lando then quickly grabbed it with his thumb and pushed it inside your mouth. "Oh, can't let it go to waste huh?" he asked teasingly as you squirmed at his words. You swallowed his cum clean and smiled dreamily at him. "Fuck, you're so fucking hot. You’re cum tastes so good.. so tasty mm" you said, practically babbling as you were so stunned by his dick. He then caressed your apple cheek, wiping your tears.

He was smirking at you proudly. As if he just made a masterpiece artwork. Tears, sniffling a little, bit of cum on your chin, mascara ruined, red lipstick all over your chin and cheeks, face so fucked out, spits and drools all over your cheeks and chin, smiling so dreamily.

Fuck, this drove him crazy.

"You're definitely getting your name in the naughty list this year" he said, chuckling softly as you giggled at his words.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[pablitogavii]

omg do gavi spending christmas with the readers family and vice versa :) <3

“Amor…basta they will be bere any minute now…” you were a moaning mess on Pablo’s lap while he kissed down your neck towards your cleavage.

“Not my fault you wore that dress Princesa…just a little longer porfa!!!!!!” He groaned and just as you were about to protest the doorbell interrupted you and you jumped off his lap.

“Get decent!!!!!!” You tell him sternly and he smirks putting his shirt back on (gif).

“You know you love me” he sent you a kiss and your rolled your eyes.

“Unfortunately!!!!!!” You said while he smirked before opening the door for his family to enter.

“Did we interrupt something?????? Took you awhile to answer” Aurora whispered into my ear making me blush bright red and roll my eyes. They surely had one things in common and it was teasing me!!!!!!

“How’s your leg precioso” Belen walked to Gavi kissing his head and the boy smiled shyly embarrassed when she treated him like a baby.

“It’s fine mamá. Gets better with recovery” he said and she nodded. Poor woman cried for days after the accident and still fears of her son being in so much pain.

“Yn takes good care of you, you finally gained back some weight” his dad added and you smiled brining out the food and drinks they wanted. Aurora helped you with lighting the candles and Christmas tree.

“She’s the best, unless she doesn’t give me what I want!!!!!!” He said looking at you playfully and once again you blushed. Little devil!!!!!!

“ Too many sweets arent good for you cariño” you say hinting to him and he smirked nodding his head.

“Shes right, you need to watch your cravings” Belen added while Aurora giggled secretly finding this whole thing way too hilarious.

“I might break his other leg if he doesn’t stop it! “ you whisper to Aurora and she smirked nodding her head.

During dinner Pablo kept getting closer to you until his hand was gripping your thigh moving upwards. He’s really not giving up huh!!?

“I’ll go get napkins!” You jump running off to the kitchen not expecting him to follow but he did. He stoop behind you leaving his crutches to the side before his hand slid underneath your dress resting on your bum.

“Please go change that dress amor…I can’t control myself!!!!!!” He groaned. You knew it’s been awhile since Pablo satisfied his “craving” and it made you proud that you can drive him crazy like this.

“Hmm what’s wrong with my dress cariño???” You play innocent and he smirks turning you around and kissing your lips.

“Nothing…it’s perfect…fuck it’s perfect” he groaned touching your curves but then remembering that you weren’t alone.

“Go be with you family and I’ll change…bueno??????” You say and he nods pouting before you kissed his lips passionately.

“I’ll wear it again when they leave, bueno??????” You smirk and he nods kissing you again before leaving.

When you came back in a different outfit everyone smiled asking why you changed…it was obvious to Aurora but not the older couple.

“Um…I spilled some soda on it” you lied shyly sitting back down and earning a smirk from your boyfriend…what he can do to you, damn it!!!!!!

When they all left, you went to Pablo sitting on the couch straddling his lap.

“Go out that dress back on amorcito” he smirked but you shut him up with a kiss. You opened your blazer showing him your red Santa lingerie with a smirk on your proud face.

“You sure about that cariño???” You smirk and he pulls you closer ripping off the rest of your clothes leaving you in the lingerie on his lap.

“Fuck!!! Merry Christmas to me!!!” He said devoting your neck again ready to satisfy “his craving” ;))

[sim0nril3y]

Night Out

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After a night out with your friends Simon is happy to care for you even if you make his life hell sometimes. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, tiny mention of smut pre-going out, drunk chaos, hurting knee, canon-typical swearing.

It was late, much later than Simon would usually have stayed up. Being a solider his body was used to a strict routine; his years of services made it so he would go to bed early and then would be up early as not to waste any of the day. There would be often when he would be woken in the night by dreams of thinking he heard noises but since sleeping beside you would generally get some good hours of sleep in, way more than when Simon slept alone or away on deployment.

However, now he was sat on the sofa, eyes fight to stay open as he stared blankly at whatever re-run was playing on the TV. Unlike usual you weren’t curled up into his side, drooling on his shoulder. No, you were out with one of your friends that Simon hadn’t bothered to learn the name of. Whoever it was, it was her birthday and she had wanted to spend it celebrating in a club.

By now Simon knew that you’d been a few drinks into the night, maybe even a couple of shots too, drunk dancing with your girlfriends. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything worse than being in a sweltering, crowded room that was filled with terrible deafening music and that was exactly what he had told you before sending you on your merry way with a kiss and a promise of collecting you once you were ready, no matter the time, he’d added.

Sat back, bouncing his knee softly and biting on his thumb nail Simon’s mind wandered to the outfit you’d worn. You had looked fucking ethereal, almost causing you to be late for the taxi by eating your sweet pussy from behind as he bent you over the bathroom sink. Simon knew you looked good and he knew any bloke in that club would be practically throwing themselves at you, grinding up behind you, maybe even placing their hands on you before you’d brush them away. It frustrated him. No, it made him seethe.

Simon wasn’t able to dwell on it for too much longer as his phone began to jingle beside him. God, he’d never had the sound on his phone before, was that his ringtone? Ugh. He didn’t linger, answering it and saying. “Love, you there?” He winced at the overwhelming noise that spilled through his speaker, deep booming music and muffled voices. “Babe?” He asked again, sitting forward and speaking a little louder as if to get your attention.

“… not going already…” “… it’s late… Simon is waiting…” “Babe.” He asked again, but the conversation continued. “We’re getting a taxi…” “Noooo~” “Love.” Simon growled, standing up then and rubbing his hand slowly down his face. “… I wanna get home to my man~” A flutter of ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ followed before you giggled and said. “Oh, wait…” Then your voice was closer, talking to him finally. “Simon, baby. You there?”

Instantly he answered. “I’m here.” Trying not to smirk too much about having heard your sappy little comments. “You ready to come home, love?” He quizzed, moving to grab his keys from the bowl closer to the front door, shutting off the TV and waiting for a moment. “I’m ready…” You answered, your voice was slurred and light, it made him smile to himself. You told him the club that you were currently standing outside the front of and then said. “But don’t rush. I’m fine.”

“I’ll be there in 10. Don’t move. Don’t talk to anyone but your friends.” It was commands that made you giggle and then response. “Yes, sir~” “Oi, behave.” Simon quipped back as he quickly exited his home. “I’ll see you soon.”

Pulling the car over a few spaces down in a taxi spot, Simon shrugged, clambering from his truck and heading down the road, past a group of rowdy young men, much younger than him and chatting about all the birds they were gonna pull, talking a big game but Simon knew that more than half of them would be going home alone.

As he approached the doorway, Simon smirked as he saw you speaking to one of your friends, looking over animated and hearing the sound of your slurred giggle from there. “Look~” You friend pointed in his direction and in a moment, you turned, gasping in elated surprise and then rushing at him full force. “Simon~” You whimpered, wrapping your flailing drunken body around his strong form. “Hi baby.” He whispered, rubbing your back soothingly before setting you down onto your bare feet. “Where are your shoes?” Simon asked and you looked puzzled and then shrugged. “Must’ve lost them.”

“Both of them?” Simon frowned down at you, then shaking his head. “Do any of your friends need a lift home?” Drunkenly you shook your head, eyes struggling to focus as you did so.

At your answer he was relieved, he just wanted to get you safely home now. “Alright. Hold on.” A shriek pulled from your throat, swinging you up over his shoulder and beginning to walk you back to his waiting truck. “Simon! Simon!” It was like you couldn’t even control your laughter and he thought a smile. “You lose your shoes then you get carried.”

Getting you into the car wasn’t that much of a struggle, he placed you in the seat, strapped you in and then began driving home. It was everything around that which came almost like a game to you. Pointing to each passing by food place you’d point to it and ask if you could stop there and get some chips, Simon refused, promising to make you something once you’re home knowing that by then you’d have forgotten all about it.

“O-oh, babe… there was this song… in the club… it was s'good.” You told him then, reaching over to begin fiddling with the radio, turning it up so loud it made Simon jolt and then reaching to turn it back down and give you a hard look. “Just sit still.” He said firmly. “Stop fiddling with things-” As if on cue the window began to wind down beside you, air busting into the car and Simon growled as he used the controls his side to slide it back firmly up. “Oi, what did I just say?”

“I heard you…” You replied with a knowing grin on your face. “Just wanted some fresh air.” You pouted towards him and Simon huffed, shaking his head and gripping the steering wheel. “Did you have a nice time with your friends?” Simon questioned then, trying to distract you from messing around with anything else in his car. “Oh, it was so much fun. I was dancing so much my feet were hurting, but I kept going.” Then you giggled then, it was so pure and full of drunk joy that Simon couldn’t help but smirk too.

Nodding his head Simon asked. “Didn’t have any boys trying to make moves on you then?” He quirked a brow in your direction and you giggled. “Oh, no~” You giggled, then it began harder before gazing at him. “I told them all I had a big strong man waiting at home for me and they all kept a goooood distance~” Reaching over she placed a distracting hand on his thigh. He knew he couldn’t take advantage of your lowered inhibitions, so he took your hand and linked your fingers, removing it from exploring any further. “I’m happy to hear that, baby.”

Once he arrived home, Simon carried you inside and carefully sat you at the edge of the bed and frowned when he saw a bloody gash on your knee. “Did you fall over?” He asked, observing it carefully. “Mmhmm… it doesn’t hurt, don’t worry~” Then flopping back onto the bed, arms spread wide beside you. “Bloody hell, with the amount of alcohol in your system you could get hit by a bus and you wouldn’t feel it…” Tiredly you began to giggle, Simon rose up and said. “Let me clean that up…”

He took his time cleaning and dressing the wound, making sure that it didn’t seem to concerning before looking up to see you gradually falling asleep. “Babe, don’t sleep. You need to drink some water and change. Okay?” “… Wan' sleep…” You already slurred voice was now destroyed by sleepiness. “Babe. Up. C’mon…” Carefully pulling you to be upright. “Get changed. I’ll get you some water.”

Leaving the room, Simon took a little time turning off lights and locking doors before returning with a glass of water, stepping into the room to find you face down on the bed with dress caught around your hips and snoring softly. “Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered, stepping over to place down the water and then tugging your dress down and throwing it aside. “Up for a minute, baby.” He coaxed you upright, tugging one of his oversized shirts over your head and then bringing the glass of water to your lips. “Just a couple big gulps. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” Simon promised lowly, kissing your hairline as you followed his orders. “Good girl. Good girl. One more for me.” Again, smiling as you tired body did as he requested. “That’s a good girl. Let’s lay you down for a little bit.” Your body flopped exhausted as Simon rolled you safely onto your side.

It was mere seconds before you were snoring lowly into the pillow, Simon moved to lay down beside you, observing you for as long as he could muster to keep his eyes open and then sinking into the abyss beside you, knowing that you were safe at home beside him in bed was enough, he could deal with whatever chaos came with that.

Masterlist | Ask | 21-11-2023

[hey-august]

August 1 is my birthday! 🎉 As a gift to myself, and to you all, I have some angsty smut to share. I love angst and I love filth, so what better than to combine them for my birthday! 🎁🌟

(Ideally, I have a few more angsty ideas that I'd like to write this month, turning it into Angst August for me. 🥰 Hopefully I can knock them out, plus Buggy's bday fic for next week.)

WC: ~1.8k Warnings: NSFW, mdni, buggy x GN!reader, no established relationship, angsty end, drinking alcohol, oral - buggy receiving, insertion sex, manual stimulation - reader receiving, multiple orgasms, low self-esteem buggy

The night was becoming a blur, a welcome merry-go-round of cheap drinks and hasty decisions. Sideways glances and a misunderstanding were soothed by an offer to have a personal conversation somewhere more private. Like a rented room above the bar.

You had been staring at Buggy for too long, stealing glances like he had been stealing beers. Even when his glare pushed away your attention, your eyes always drifted back. In between tall tales and filthy stories, the pirate felt your gaze following the tilt of his head and chasing his laughter.

When you managed to make your way to his side of the bar, Buggy took the opportunity to tell you to fuck off. In the face of his sneer, you winced out an apology and offered an explanation. One that would be easier somewhere quieter. Lacking in better judgment and hoping for a fight, Buggy agreed to follow you.

The pirate had convinced himself that you were luring him into a trap, but when you were on your knees begging to have his cock stuffed in your mouth, Buggy became too hardheaded to think that way anymore. Pirates and performers have a knack for sensing lies and hidden motives. Your motives were obvious and surprisingly genuine.

You had even blushed when apologizing for staring at him. You said it was because he was cute. You were insistent. Real fucking insistent. Whining when he let you kiss him. Grabbing his coat to pull him closer. Wanting to apologize for making him feel uncomfortable by making him feel way too comfortable.

Your sloppy mouth had Buggy’s mind spinning. Or maybe it was all the beer sloshing around his stomach. Only one thought survived the swirling tempest, floating through the whirlpool on instinct.

“Let’s fuck,” Buggy choked out when he could catch his breath.

Another hasty decision later and you were folded in half, back pressed hard against the thin mattress. The cheap bed creaked and cracked with each heavy thrust. Your movements were limited. Stuck in a cage created by the pirate above you, all you could really do was fight to keep your eyes from rolling back and moan against his pretty red lips. All other movement came from Buggy, who was hunched over your body and moving like a man possessed.

His tempo was relentless. Rough and hard, fighting to find space in your tightness. With each thrust, Buggy pressed more of his weight against your legs, which only added to the pressure inside. His hard cock took up more space than you thought your body could accommodate, constantly hitting and rubbing the spots that took your breath away.

With each struggling inhale, the stars in your eyes grew larger. Brighter. Expanding until they took over your vision and they exploded throughout your body. Unable to keep your bliss contained to the limited space you could move in, it overflowed into the trembles that coursed through you.

Buggy’s fingers dug into your shaking legs while he dragged his cock through the spasms in your body, before pulling out to spill his own high on your stomach.

Turning a panting breath into an invite, you stuck out your tongue and offered to swallow his cum. The pirate lurched forwards to oblige, not wanting to spill a drop anywhere else. And neither did you. Despite a heavy mouthful, you swallowed his load and opened your empty mouth as proof.

The look of pride in your eyes after being wrecked by a complete stranger - a fucking clown - was too much. Buggy’s softening dick twitched and pushed out a small pearly drop. If he could, he would fuck you into oblivion again. Instead, he rolled off of you and released his hunger another way.

Laying on his side in the small sliver of free space next to you, Buggy pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. His hand roamed your body, grabbing and kneading whatever he could feel.

“Thank you,” he mumbled between kisses. “Sorry.”

The repeated words went in and out of your head, drifting through the spaces of over-stimulation. Stubbled facial hair, calloused fingers, nipping teeth, a teasing tongue, grinding hips. Eventually, the words lingered long enough to stay. They stuck in the web of feelings and filled the gaps.

You gasped softly when he spoke. Each seemingly unwarranted apology sending shivers through your body. Each appreciation building the heat between your legs. A fire that Buggy stoked with his own hand when he realized what he ignited. You grabbed his wrist when the feelings peaked, squeezing tightly until the inferno passed.

“Wh-why are… You don’t have to b-be sorry.” Your voice was airy, needing to breathe more than needing to speak.

“C’mon, look at you. You’re so fucked,” Buggy said with a chuckle. He reached up and squeezed your flushed cheeks which pushed out your puffy lips. “I shoulda bought you a drink first. Ya know, something to get to know you more before we got naked.”

Your smile pushed against his fingers and he freed your face.

“I wouldn’t mind that. We could still try to get to know each other.” You rolled over to face the pirate next to you.

Your noses were nearly touching and it turned Buggy’s stomach. He pulled his head back and stared at you. A stranger who came on to him. A clown. You didn’t crack jokes, ask him for tricks, or talk shit about his nose. That would change if you spent more time together. It always happened, without fail.

But you were so…honest. And cute.

Buggy closed the gap and pressed his lips against yours, sealing away any other words you could say. His hand drifted down, returning to it’s new home between your legs.

“Can you give me one more?”

You answered by deepening the kiss and pouring your moans into his waiting mouth. He was greedy, coaxing more delicious sounds to drink. When they were almost tooth-rottening sweet, Buggy eased back his movements and welcomed your tart whimpers.

“Please, p-please…”

Your begging words were overwhelming. They coated his tongue and were too rich to savor for long. Buggy pressed against you and pulled another shaking orgasm from your body. As the tremors passed and your muscles gave up, you leaned more into the man laying next to you. He stayed still, feeling each heave from your chest and warm breaths coast across his damp skin.

With a deep sigh, you succumbed to weariness. You shifted and wiggled until you were able to wrap an arm around the pirate.

“I just need a moment,” you said softly when the pirate didn’t return the gesture. “That was a lot. It f-felt good.”

A shiver from the overproduction of chemicals in your body ran down your spine, shaking your words along the way. Hesitantly, Buggy brought an arm around you and soothed your goosebumps. Unsure what you needed besides a moment, he let his large hand rest on top. Restless fingertips traced shapes and thoughts on your skin in silence.

Buggy wasn’t used to gentle moments like this. His preferred shitty choices usually resulted in fist fights and hurt feelings. Aches that he always carried with him and that whispered in the quiet of the room. There was still time for this night to end like the others. To have more pain than comfort. And the tenderness in your hold would need plenty of hurt to balance things out.

He moved to pull away. Your hug tightened briefly and then loosened.

“Sorry, I-”

“I’m hungry,” Buggy interrupted. He didn’t want to know what you were going to apologize for. Whatever regrets you had should stay with you.

“Oh okay, yeah. We could get something to eat downstairs, if you want. Let me clean up first,” you said, quickly warming up to the idea.

“I can go grab food. This kind of mess takes time to clean up.” Buggy gestured towards you with his head, his eyes moving from your ragged hair down to the face paint all over your face and neck that was starting to muddle together with the sweat on your body.

You looked down and nodded. A soreness had begun to settle in your muscles. It pulled out a small whine and a silent shake when you stretched your arms and legs before getting off the bed.

“Okay, that’s a plan, captain.” You picked up the clothes strewn across the floor, blew a kiss to the naked pirate still sitting on the bed, who waggled his fingers at you, and then made your way to the bathroom.

When the door latched shut, Buggy deflated with a coarse sigh. Buggy quickly threw his clothes back on, making sure not to forget any bits of flair. The shower was still running when he stepped out of the room and closed the door.

It was only a short scene at the end, but he was done pretending. Buggy shook his head to the cadence of the last thing you said and rolled his eyes, pushing aside the feeling in his chest. It wasn’t guilt for lying or tricking you, but pity that you believed him. That’s what the throb inside was. It had to be.

Buggy made his way downstairs, back into the smell of piss, yeast, sweat, and greasy food. A crowded table called out as he walked past, his crew’s cheers and rowdy remarks blending together. As he walked by, their captain gave a slight nod and swiped a half-drank beer from the table which he downed in a sloppy gulp. Droplets and foam trickled down the corner of his mouth, through the stubble in jaw, and down his neck. It felt unpleasant, just like the rest of him.

The empty glass was tossed back to the table, who shrieked and laughed at the projectile. Buggy continued with his swift exit, reluctant to spend much more time in this building or in this town. Striding down the street illuminated more by shoddy lamps than the waning moon, the pirate wondered how long you’d wait for him to return.

When would you leave the room to look for him? Would you wait until your stomach growled? Or would there be a little voice in your head telling you that he left? Would you ask around for him? Or accept that he fucked you and left without another word? Like an asshole.

If he was honest, like you, Buggy would have stayed. He wanted to get to know you, to spend more time with you. He wanted to keep the stars in your eyes all for himself. To hear his name on your tongue. To make you cry out, make you laugh, make you happy.

But that kind of connection, that kind of life, is not for him. It never worked out for Buggy and he was tired of trying. Even if you might have been willing.

[factorydefaultlu]

2, 4, and 6 from teh spicy prompt list w luffy.. i beg.. and maybe a captain!reader..

Oh Captain, My Captain

Monkey D. Luffy x GN!Reader

Exhibitionism, drooling, male masturbation, alcohol consumption, guided masturbation

Luffy didn't exactly have a lot of pirate friends, most saw him as a threat. Not you though, you found his antics particularly adorable and comedic.

Every few months you would meet up with Luffy and catch up over a few drinks. Tonight was no different, Luffy was drinking you under the table as usual

Honestly where does that boy put it?

He's always been a touchy person, but tonight it's more noticeable. Luffy's also been calling you captain every now and then, something he doesn't usually do.

Eventually you decide to bring him back to his ship, he's definitely had too much to drink and is tripping over himself.

As you help him onto the upper deck of the Merry he grips your shoulders, pulling you into a wet kiss.

"I wan' you t' come back t' my cabin wif me." his words are slurred but his eyes are locked on yours. He knows exactly what he's saying.

"Alright, but you do as I say."

Back in his room, you get him to strip his clothes and lay on the bed. You don't bother with your own garments, you just lay on your side next to him.

"Show me how you touch yourself sweet boy."

Luffy whines at your words, but takes ahold of his hardening cock. His hand squeezes the thick shaft and begins pumping his fist. He sighs at the friction and uses his other hand to play with his balls.

He's got a pretty cock that's for sure, thick and uncut, resting nicely below a mound of curly black hair.

It's shocking that he doesn't know just how handsome he is. He already looks so fucked out, a stream of drool already spilling from his lips.

"Good boy, slow your hand down. I wanna see how long you can last."

He whines, but obeys. His hand slows and he smears the sticky precum from the tip over his length.

"I wan' a kiss."

You smile and give in, accepting his wet kisses again. His drool has gathered at the corners of his mouth and you use your tongue to lap it up.

He tastes like tequila and grapefruit, the remnants of his drink of choice.

He whines again as his cock throbs in his fist, and you get and idea.

Reaching your hand up, you command him to spit in your palm. Like the good boy he is, he does as he's told.

You rub the glob of spit between your fingers and let it drip over his cock.

"Fuck your fist for me, baby."

He doesn't need to he told twice, his hips jolt as he fucks his fist. All the drool and precum on his cock makes the most delicious wet sounds.

Luffy is spilling over the edge within a minute, hot ropes of cum spraying on his belly as he cums with a loud moan.

You hope all of your nights out end like this.

[margowritesthings]

The French Are Glad To Die For Love

A Bridgerton x Moulin Rouge crossover

pairing: Colin Bridgerton x ? word count: 2.1k words warnings: 18+ minors DNI, un-beta'd, mentions of sex, spitting, lots of debauchery authors note: surpriiise! i have been sitting on this since part 1, so to celebrate part 2 tomorrow here's my new mini-series! i have never written for Colin before, so i'm nervous, but i loved writing this.

i also need your help! i cannot decide if this mini series should be Colin x reader or a Polin fic, where Penelope is Satine. I have created a poll here for you to vote, so please let me know!

and as always, enjoy! it's been a hot minute since I last published, so thank you if you're still here.

Bridgerton Masterlist

The stars sparkle especially brightly tonight, the crimson lanterns guiding Parisians and tourists alike through the winding streets, and Colin Bridgerton stands in awe of it all. 

He’d read stories, heard tales of this place during long nights at Whites, but nothing could have quite prepared him for what lay ahead of him, a long string of lights hanging in the sky leading the way to his destination. 

The Moulin Rouge. 

A house of debauchery and sin, of freedom and truth, filled to the brim with bohemians and artists and beautiful women unlike anything or anyone he’s ever seen before. Even now, 30 feet away from the illuminated windmill, he can hear the music and the joy spilling out from the building. His senses are filled with the perfume of hundreds of women passing him by the minute, all with real, toothy grins he rarely has the pleasure of seeing back home. It is far too impolite to be so happy in London society. 

Colin steps forwards, his boots crunching against the gravel and his coattails flying in the breeze. His shoulders brush more wonderfully merry, positively inebriated partygoers on his way in, catching odd fragments of conversations that would have scandalised him and his whole family were he elsewhere. 

But he wasn’t elsewhere. He was here, in the city of love, away from anybody who had ever known the name Bridgerton. His clean slate clutched close to his chest, waiting to find out what will be written on it next, Colin feels the fresh air on his face for the last time before his life is changed forever.

The heat hits him first, a symptom he knew all too well of too many people packed into a small space. But unlike every ball he’s been to, this doesn’t feel claustrophobic or fusty. It feels alive. 

There is a feast for the eye wherever one looks. Burlesque dancers showing off stockings and garters by kicking their legs up, toes pointing towards the aerial hoops holding acrobats hanging from the ceiling. Gentlemen, if you can call them that in this state, wearing top hats, arm in arm with their glasses raised high, spilling their contents all over the wooden floor. 

The music blasts loud from each instrument the band masterfully pluck or blow or bang, but laughter and conversation buzzes amongst the melodies. It is a near overwhelming amount of joy, one Colin certainly could use a drink to wash it down with. 

If he could just find the bar…

Bodies fill his view, so entangled in each other it is difficult to tell where one starts and another ends. Frilly skirts flow over the knees of suits as ladies dangle from the necks of patrons, sharing cigars and passing around bottles of an unknown green liquid. Rosy cheeks as far as the eye can see, wether from too much of that green stuff or the exertion of all that dancing, Colin can’t be sure. Between them all, in tiny empty spaces, he can just about make out rows of bottles and glasses. 

Weaving through the crowd is like treading through water, but their energy and joy seems to rub off on him. There isn’t a dance card in sight, women choosing their partners themselves whenever they like with a freedom Colin isn’t sure he’s ever seen before. Is this truly what people are designed to be when they are free?

Eventually, his hands find the sticky wood of the bar, quickly lifting themselves back off it on instinct at the sensation. When Colin looks to his left, he sees a woman pouring a shot of liquor between her breasts, a man knelt below her waiting to lick it back up, and he quickly realises why the bar feels so tacky- every surface here seems to be host to someone’s revelry. 

“Welcome to the Moulin Rouge, monsieur. Can I get you a drink?”

Colin’s attention is quickly pulled by the welcome, his gaze snapping to a tall French woman dripping with red jewels that compliment her rich brown skin perfectly. She is captivating to be sure, deep hazel eyes commanding Colin’s attention, competing with the most incredible curls of hair he has ever seen. Ladies of the ton are welcome no matter their race back home, but Colin has never seen a lady allowed to wear her hair so beautifully natural before. The Afro framing her face has more tiny rubies that sparkle under the cabaret lights, and Colin is speechless. 

“I…uh, pardon me, Miss, I-“ he sighs, giving up entirely at his failed attempt at decorum, “Is it so obvious I have never been here before?” 

She laughs, gems twinkling as her head shakes with mirth. 

“Not at all, but most gentlemen who have been here before know to wear a top hat. And there’s that look in your eye…” 

As she speaks, she pours out one finger of the green liquor Colin has spotted a few times already, sliding it along the wood towards him. 

“Wonder. Drink this. It will help with the nerves.” 

Colin looks down, finding himself fascinated with a drink that seems to glow of its own volition. He has smoked blends and meditated with world weary travellers from across the globe, drank tea containing unknown substances that left him staring at blades of grass as if they held the worlds secrets, and yet this… whatever it is, seems to terrify him.

The barmaid laughs again, that melodic sound with the real joy Colin very much enjoys. 

“It’s only absinthe, monsieur. Loosens the inhibitions, relaxes the body…” she explains, pouring a second out for herself and lifting it to him as if to prove her credibility. 

“Santé.” He toasts to health.

“Amour.” She toasts to something far greater.

It leaves no room for argument, and all Colin can do is lift his own glass and tap it against hers. 

It burns his tongue, leaving a fiery trail down his throat as he swallows and tries not to cough and splutter. A bitter yet herby anise flavour fights with his taste buds and seems to seep straight into his mind, teasing at those tense knots that held him back from fully immersing himself here. 

When his eyes eventually reopen, he finds the barmaid beaming at him, unphased by her own potion. Rather used to it, if she shares a glass with every newcomer, he should think.

“Be careful, though, monsieur. Many a man has spent a night with the stuff and swears he fell in love with a fairy dressed all in green. Ruined him for any other woman for the rest of his life…” She speaks words that belong in fairytale, with a tone containing such severity Colin is inclined to take every single one of them as gospel. 

“I dare say I should be careful, then. I do not think this green fairy would want to join the rest of my travels when she can instead entice all of Paris’ men to sin…” 

The residue of the liquor smells just as strong as the full measure, which Colin tries to blink out of his senses when he puts the glass back on the bar.

Almost as if society itself had cleared its throat at him, Colin remembers himself, remembers just where he is. Undoubtedly the most unique establishment he had ever set foot in, but an establishment all the same. 

“I beg your pardon, miss, I seem to forget myself. How much do I owe you for the drink?”

She considers him.

“Hm,  the absinthe I think… for you, a kiss.” 

Colin, already pulling coins from his breast pocket, pauses, a little grin tugging at the corner of his lip. The francs clink together when they fall back to the bottom of his pocket, a long forgotten currency of the past. It’s a perfect reminder of just how different things are here, how easily walls crumble between strangers and connection is offered so freely. He has never kissed a woman he has not paid for back home, so afraid of getting too close to another in case they ruin each other. Here, a beautiful woman leans over the bar, offering her flushed cheek for him to softly press his lips against. 

And he does. 

And it is lovely. 

“If any more handsome men capture the eye of Mademoiselle Belle, I will surely be out of business!” A loud, hearty voice pulls Colin from one blissful moment back into the party.

He regards a rather large man, clad in a red tailcoat and stunning golden waistcoat. His top hat, near the same to all the other gentlemen in the room but somehow grander, tops wild orange curls that match a fantastic handlebar moustache. A true ring leader to this wonderful circus of debauchery Colin has found himself in. 

“Harold Zidler, at your service. Welcome to the Moulin Rouge.” 

“Colin Bridgerton.” He replies, offering a hand that Harold seems bemused at. Unsurprising, considering what passes for currency around here. Nonetheless, Harold shakes the offered hand. 

”I must say, your establishment is rather…�� he hesitates, unable to find a word in any language he has picked up along his travels that quite captures the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps he could blame the absinthe, or the intoxicating hedonism he feels rooting its way through his mind, hidden in the brass notes from the band and thrown with each cancan kick of one of the dancers that surrounds him. 

Luckily, Harold seems well used to this phenomenon. 

“Isn’t it? And you have seen nothing yet! I assume you are not from around here?”

”It is rather obvious, I have been told.” Colin adds a glance to Miss Belle, who’s skirt frills bounce in the lights while she shakes up a cocktail. He adds, “London.” 

”Well, Monsieur Bridgerton, I promise you that what we have here in the Moulin Rouge is unlike anything you have back home in London.” 

Colin’s eye is caught again across the room, as a beautiful woman with blonde tumbling waves spits a drink into a man’s mouth. 

“I am inclined to agree with you there.” 

It truly is unlike anything back home. Colin has travelled across Europe and back again, seen incredible sights and met wonderful people. He has felt that ease that distance from London society and its unwritten laws and social rules that bind him back home can bring. He’s seen beauty and felt freedom and thought he might have found truth somewhere along the way, but it pales to whatever is contained within these four walls. 

In truth, it couldn’t be farther from London society.

”Just wait until you see my Diamond, Monsieur.”

… Perhaps not. 

Intrigue hits Colin as Harold pulls out a pocket watch on a brilliant gold chain. 

“Your diamond?”

”My Sparkling Diamond. The main attraction of the Moulin Rouge, my most sought after little chickee.” He speaks proudly, with a mist in his eye Colin normally finds on ambitious Mamas at grand balls, secretly trying to auction their daughters off to the highest rank. 

“I do not believe she is booked yet for tonight…” Harold adds, that mist darkening, disappearing, leaving a shiver stuck between Colin’s shoulder blades.

Not because this Diamond is a courtesan. Colin is hardly a stranger to the profession, and he bears no judgement. In truth, he admires the women he has been known to spend the night with, finding the courage of living outside society so freely quite brave indeed. No, that shiver came from Harold entirely, Colin just cannot figure out why. 

Harold excuses himself, though makes sure Colin knows to stay for the show, and Colin orders a whiskey on the rocks, insisting on paying in cash this time. Though singular in person, he has never felt less alone in his life. Looking around, there isn’t an empty chair in the house. If there were, there wouldn’t be room to put it down for all the dancers and patrons enjoying every ounce of the world they can. Music played straight from the soul ringing in his ears, Colin could make out every instrument. The lights dazzled in his eyes and the spot caught him every so often, lighting his drink up in his hand like golden ambrosia. 

And then, darkness. Silence. 

A single spot, though the mirrors scattered around catch the light and illuminate the faces of the people around him. Everybody is looking upwards, as if they all know she is coming. 

Even if he did know, Colin could never have prepared himself for what he saw when he looked up.

Who he saw.

The Sparkling Diamond, shimmering high on a swing hanging from the ceiling. 

The most beautiful, breathtaking, person he has ever seen. In any city, on any continent in the world. 

Crimson lips part as each and every person hangs on the breath she takes.

”The French are glad to die for love…”

don't forget to vote in the poll for your fmc!

[muzanswaifu]

Yandere! Rengoku Breeding Kink HCs

18+

Afab! Reader

Holiday gift for one of my patreon members!

Request: "Can I nsfw request Yandere!Rengoku kyojuro breed/impregnate Reader please? Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 🎄🎉🪅🥳💕"

NSFW Warnings: Yandere, Smut, Non-con, Drugging, Kidnapping, Roofies, Obsession, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Multiple Creampies, Cockwarming, Breeding Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Impregnation, Unsafe Sex, Baby-trapping

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Rengoku has oh so dreamed of this day, the day he’d have you sprawled out on his bed, drugged out of your mind from the little pill he’d slipped in your drink at a bar earlier

It had been quite difficult to convince your friends that he was your boyfriend, but it’s not like they could refuse him when he was so charming and knew so much about you, things not even they did

You were lucky, you know, lucky that it was only him who had taken advantage of how easy it was to track you, you would’ve been in danger had it been someone else! But don’t worry, he was not some psychopath, his only objective was to care for you, love you, own you

You mewed softly into the sheets, rolling over to squint into the dim, intimate lighting of his bedroom, even if it had been bright enough to see, your vision was blurred, obscured by your own doped brain

He cooed at your struggle of movement, brushing your glazed hair back and leaning over to seal his lips over yours, the kiss was sloppy, more tongue than anything as he drooled into your mouth, he’d wanted for so long to embrace you, pure love radiating off of him despite his cruelly perverted actions, when he’d finally pulled away, a string of saliva stretching between your tongues

Kyojuro had already checked you out for quite some time in the club, but in here, so close to each other, his eyes scavenged across your figure yet again - the slip of your sleeve down your shoulder, your bunched up skirt, the tight cling of your dress - his groin ached at the sight of you so… ripe, so ready to be taken advantage of

Saliva built on his tongue as he peeled the useless clothing from you, savoring the way your breasts and ass spilled from the taut material, your naked bodice twitched with the sudden chill, head shifting side to side in your confusion, you were too dazed to care about anything but what you could physically feel, and he was quick to give you something to focus on as he spread your legs apart

His chest bloomed as his ears were filled with your pathetic whines and moans, gifts exchanged for his service to your innocent heat, his ravenous tongue had already found its way to your center, pressing kiss after kiss to your delicate hole, thanking the gods for this glorious meal

Kyojuro relished the pure taste of you, licking stripes against your entrance and chancing his tongue inside, working you open in the most gentle way he could manage

It was only when you gave a long whimper and crossed your ankles behind his head that he’d realized his ignorant mistake of your neglected bead, pulling back he could see how needy she was, swollen and pulsing for attention, desperate to be spoiled with love

He sucked her gently, groaning at the feeling of your hands fiercely clutching his blond mane, your legs further weaving him closer

It didn't take long for you to come like that, gushing into his mouth and letting out a silent scream of ecstasy

You didn’t have the strength to crawl away as he continued feasting, boneless as he flipped you to your front and pulled your legs off the bed to eat you from behind with the same hunger as before, not even giving you a moment’s rest as he lapped at you like a starved man

He felt high off his mind as he drank from you, as intoxicated as you were perhaps, and this wasn’t even the best part of what he’d had planned

You felt a hint of something strange, embarrassment?, as you came this time, spewing out juices across his maw as he teased the side of your throbbing nub with his tongue, it felt dirty to have lost control of your functions and stained his face, despite the excitement that clearly painted his expression as he licked his lips clean with a manic grin

Kyojuro stepped back, admiring his own work of your dripping and thoroughly eaten pussy, his pants had been loosened long ago, but only then did he start stroking himself, preparing to give you what you so needed and deserved

You were none-the-wiser as he mounted you, pressing the tip of his cock at your fluttering hole, you were already given up, drooling into the sheets and weakly clutching at them in anticipation for whatever came next

He nearly thought this was dream, doubting his own vision of you in the perfectly arched breeding position that he’d always fantasized about, praying for the day he’d get to fill your belly with his litter, marry you somewhere in the mix of it all, he didn’t really care which came first

But you were really here, he mused as he began pushing in, your cosseted cunt gladly taking in the first few inches before pushing back in resistance, he’d already anticipated the struggle, well aware of his own dangerous size

Thankfully, you didn’t make too much of a fuss, only weakly yowling and sputtering as you were stretched past your limit by a man who you had certainly never suspected to be in this position with, nor would you have ever guessed your body could accommodate such a thing, but here you were, filled to the brim and bulging with a cock that pushed at your womb with the same obsessive goal as its owner

You had to be made for each other, your little pussy doing such an amazing job of coddling his cock, already frothing around his shaft with your sweet cream, he licked his lips remembering the delectable taste

Kyojuro hardly had to move to stimulate himself, your walls already pulsing around him and milking him for his potent seed, he could feel your legs shake under him and wrapped an arm under your belly, pressing his hand against the protruding bulge in your belly and making you whine

He took his time molding you to him, gently canting his hips back and forth to get you used to the feeling of being properly filled, as you deserved, but the moment your strained cries turned to moans of pleasure, he could no longer stop himself, rolling his hips deep, flawlessly curling into your sweet spot with every agonizing stroke

His arms held your hips up to meet his as his patience to crouch down to meet you deteriorated, he could no longer wait for you to succumb, determined to show you the vast range of his skill and power, to show you just how amazing he could make you feel, to show how perfectly he could care for your needs, even if you might not remember any of this tomorrow

He groaned deep as he filled you with the first round of seed, surprising even himself as the cum had suddenly escaped from him before he’d even realized he'd peaked, the pleasure of your cunt so heavenly that he’d been at his highest from the beginning

Hot cum pooled into you, not yet spilling as he stilled his hips as deep as possible inside you, he didn't want even a drop to be wasted, intent for it to catch now, if his research was correct this was your fertile week

You mouthed at the blankets, your body trembling with the overstimulation that you had no chance to escape from, feeling a hot thickness fill your belly in waves, you could feel the object twitch inside of you, snapping at your most sensitive spots as if it were easy

He gave a sigh once his load had emptied, gingerly pulling himself from your welcoming heat only to flip you over to see your front, he wanted to see your face when you came with his cock filling you up with another fresh batch of sperm

You began whining again as he filled you, your weak little hands clawing at the beast that crawled on top of you, grabbing at his wrinkled shirt and balling it in your fists, it didn't help that he had started flicking at your clit as well, rubbing slow swirls that had what was left of your brain reeling back into itself

Your body betrayed you without question, furiously clutching at his shaft and spraying him yet again with your release

Kyojuro beamed at your cunts eagerness to take everything he had, his pace quickening as he chased his own climax yet again, desperate to give your womb more of his thick, hot cum

He came for the second time that night with his eyes locked on your tiny hole swallowing every inch of his cock, a creamy ring of semen frothing around his base as he pumped another fresh load into your tummy, spraying it directly into your womb

You let out a practically pornographic moan, your voice wanton and cracked as you sobbed, drool pooling down the sides of your mouth while your head lolled back, the warmth felt so good, swimming inside your belly and sending waves of euphoria all throughout your being, your clit throbbed from the lack of movement so you tried to hump at him, but his strong hands held you firm and still, keeping you in place so his seed wouldn’t spill out, but your attempt at rebellion irked him momentarily

In the future, he'd make sure to train you more thoroughly on how to behave in the bedroom, how to present yourself to him after he got home from work, how to keep your legs spread and pussy exposed for him to eat after a long day, how to stay still and submissive for him to hold you down and breed you until his balls were empty, how to warm his cock all night without letting any of his precious cum spill out

But for now, he’d do all the work and let you enjoy how good being impregnated felt, he took a hand off your hip to massage his balls, just to make sure he gave you every drop, he chuckled as you slurred at him, muttering stupid, sweet nothings as your hips tried yet again to brush against his, he humored your impatience, brushing his thumb lazily over your swollen clit, and another gush of your juices drenched his thighs

Even as he came down from this climax, he knew he still had several more rounds in him, far too pent up to let you rest just yet

He wanted you bursting with his seed when he was done with you, so not a doubt could be had that you were carrying his child, rengoku wanted your thighs painted white, you pretty cunt stuffed with cream, and even your mouth given a taste of his essence, tainting your entire being with his love and devotion

He slammed his lips into yours as he built up his pace for the next round, holding your jaw still with a hand as he cleaned up the drool from your lips with his tongue, laughing when you scrunched your nose and turned your face to get away from his intimate grooming, the man uncaring as he continued his work anyway, licking with wide, wet strokes all over you like an animal

He had you every way imaginable that night, every position, every surface, every innocent inch of your body, leaving you a heaping pile of sweat, spit, and, most of all, cum, caked and drying on your skin and especially between your legs

Rengoku worried he might have killed you after he’d given his last pint of seed, your body falling to a limp and cold state of silence, yet your breaths were evened, proving your resilience

He didn’t bother cleaning you off, far, far too pleased with the outcome of your divine image covered head to toe in his babies, your mouth open and drooling into the pillow with gentle pants, you nearly sounded like you were purring

Kyojuro kept you tight his chest, wrapping your limbs together like pretzel dough and pulling your leg over his hip to keep his soft cock locked inside of you for warmth, but even without it your body burned from his simmering flesh, hot to the touch and practically steaming in the cold air of the room

He wasn’t so delusional as to expect your reaction tomorrow to be happy, in fact, he pretty much expected the opposite, quite positive that you’d freak out or try to escape, but he’d already planned ahead, having prepared a safe room for you to be kept in, heavily equipped with as many furnishings and comforts as there were tracking devices and sound proof barriers, the next room over was already set up as a nursery

He had hope you’d give in quickly with his good care, praying you’d see how perfect your life would be with him treating you as his goddess, after all you’d already had the time of your life tonight and you hadn’t even given him consent!

But he was willing to give you time either way, certain with himself that you were meant for each other, meant to spend the rest of your lives pleasing each other and creating life together

Kyojuro would spend every day to get your requited love, but, at the end of the day, it wouldn’t have stopped him from having you regardless

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[tongue-like-a-razor]

For the celebration (congrats btw!!) could we see the first time that it came up in conversation that Jake had a crush on a mystery girl? However you pictured it happening! Unless it’s too early to reveal it or if you have other plans for it! You can completely ignore this!!

I love your work!!

Aww thank you so much, darling! I love love love this request! I imagine this conversation happening between part 6 and 7 :D Hope you like it!

5k Weekend Bash Drabbles

Brother's Best Friend - Off Limits

Jake Seresin x Reader

“What’s the matter with you?”

Jake looks up from his drink, a little dazed. “What do you mean?”

Bradley gives him a pointed look. “Well, you didn’t even notice the two chicks we passed on the patio on our way in. Twins. You let me crush you at Mortal Kombat. Twice. You’ve barely touched your beer. And I’m pretty sure you weren’t listening to my rant about the pickles.”

“The pickles?” Jake cocks his head in confusion.

Bradley nods. “Mm-hm, the pickles that are supposed to be on this burger.” He gestures at his half-eaten meal.

Jake stares at Bradley for a moment. “Can’t believe I almost missed that.”

Bradley purses his lips sourly and returns his attention to his food. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re distracted.”

Jake looks down at his own plate and mutely picks up a fry.

Bradley, who’s about to take a bite, slowly lowers his burger, watching Jake zone out again as he chews. Bradley smirks, setting his burger down. “Spill,” he demands.

Jake cringes. “There’s nothing to spill.”

Bradley starts chortling. “Who is she?”

Jake sighs uneasily and finally meets Bradley’s gaze. “Uh, you don’t know her.”

“You bang her yet?”

Jake tries not to wince. “No. She… doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know what?” But after two seconds of contemplation, Bradley leans into the table excitedly. “Are you telling me you’re hung up on a chick who has no clue that you’re into her?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Looks like it,” he responds miserably.

“Why haven’t you asked her out?”

Jake glances up at his friend, doing his best not to appear overly guilty. “She’s bad news.”

Bradley’s grin broadens. “I like the sound of that.”

Jake suppresses a groan. “No, it’s not what you think.”

“What do I think?”

Jake grimaces, staring into his fizzing beer. “I just mean… she’s not an option.”

“Because?” Bradley raises his eyebrows expectantly.

Jake shifts in his seat and looks back up warily. The truth is, he wouldn’t mind talking about you at all. In fact, he’s dying to tell his best friend about the emotional turmoil he’s been contending with since he realized he had feelings for you. But, as luck would have it, Bradley is actually the root of the problem, and consequently the last person Jake should be sharing with. Still, Jake really can’t resist talking about you, given how much he’s lately been keeping to himself. “Because she’s” – off limits – “taken.”

Bradley nods sympathetically. “Been there.”

Jake grips his beer stein and lifts it off the table. “Her boyfriend is a real piece of work, too.”

“So, show her that you’re better. Easy.”

Jake sets his beer back down without taking a drink. “Am I?”

Bradley leans back in his seat with a chuckle. “Oh no,” he says.

“What?”

“You fucking like her, dude.”

“I told you, I like her.”

“No.” Bradley shakes his head. “No, no. You don’t just like her, man. You like her.”

Jake is watching Bradley impassively. “Are you fucking glitching?”

Bradley laughs. “Admit it!”

Jake opens his mouth to protest that he already has, but then closes it again because obviously Bradley is right. “Yes, I fucking like her, Bradshaw. I like her enough to know that she shouldn’t be with me.”

Bradley’s obnoxious cackle has fizzled to a merry chuckle now and he shakes his head with a loud, theatrical sigh. “My boy is growing up!”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m so proud of you, man.”

“I said, shut the fuck up, Bradshaw.”

Bradley raises his hands in surrender. “Okay,” he says giddily. “So, tell me about her.”

5k Celly

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂… 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏

🎄christmas masterlist🎄

warning - smut, oral sex, sex, stalker behaviour, breeding kink, maybe a bad pun?, human reader, santa male, reader may be a bit of a whore, but I can't blame her, slight angst, slight fluff, maybe a bit of kidnapping? (but, like... what's really considered kidnapping? especially if it's by ari)

18+ only please, christmas present for you all but mostly for @royalsweetteaa, the gif and header aren't mine. merry christmas!🎅🏻

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You scurry around the kitchen, whipping yourself up a hot chocolate. The past few weeks have been… Interesting, to say the least, from having the cutest little men accompany you to a giant monstrous man devouring you. Your mind was fuzzy, wondering if you’ll ever see them again. Grabbing your drink, you slowly make your way to your lounge room, prepared to watch one of your favourite Christmas movies. 

Your mind is too focused on not spilling your drink that you don’t notice the older man sitting in your chair. His legs spread, thighs and bulge straining against his red pants. Darkened blue eyes glare at your small form as you walk in his direction. Ari’s hand lifts to his thick greying beard, wondering if you will ever look up. Not that he will complain if you sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas. “I never expected your favourite Christmas movie to be How The Grinch Stole Christmas” A charming grin makes its way onto Ari’s face when he watches you jump slightly. Your head snaps up, and you stare at him with wide eyes. Your grip is tightly wrapped around your cup, ensuring the liquid doesn’t spill.

Your eyes take in his tight red and white outfit, subconsciously licking your lips as your eyes trail down his body, loving how it fits his form perfectly. Your brows furrow as the pieces begin to fit together, the outfit, the greying beard, the red hat with a white pom pom on top. Your eyes slowly move back up his body before connecting with his blue ones. “You’re Santa?” You slowly place your drink down, becoming curious about the man you swear you’ve seen before.

Ari chuckles, leaning back into the chair. “Mmhm, and you’re my little hoe… hoe… hoe.” His joyous chuckle fills the room at his pun, and you giggle as well, feeling your heart warm at the sound of his laugh. A small smile takes place on Ari’s face as the laughter dies down, and his large veiny hand pats his thigh. “Come sit and tell Santa what you want for Christmas.” Ari watches you hesitate, worrying your lip as you think. “Unless you want to be named Naughty.” Slowly he moves to stand, but a loud humph escapes him when you land roughly onto his lap. 

You look up at Ari, eyes slightly fluttering as his warmth seeps into you. A calming feeling washes over you as you take in his scent. The smell of Christmas fills your nose, warming your insides. “Now, what’s a little girl like you want for Christmas? I mean… It shouldn’t be a lot seeing as you’ve had my elves and even the big bad Grinch.” Ari’s grip tightens on you.

Your cheeks turn rosy pink, and you stare at him with wide eyes, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to think of an explanation. “I can explain… I… They…” Your brows furrow as you begin to pout, not knowing what to say. 

Ari grins as he watches you struggle, pulling your small body closer to his larger form. “Don’t worry about it, darling. Now, what do you want for Christmas?” Ari rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes slowly closing as he takes in your sweet scent, humming as he waits for a response. Ari can feel you begin to squirm against his throbbing member, holding back his groan as you continue. His thumb rubs the exposed skin on your hip, “hmm? I am Santa. I can get you anything your heart desires. All you have to do is tell me.” 

You relax into his body, feeling anxious about what you really want. “I… I want to be loved… and not just for one night but for eternity.” Both you and Ari can feel your heart speed up, how your breath hitches after you’ve spoken of what you truly desire. “B–But… If that’s too hard, I would like a pet. Nothing too big, maybe just something small.” 

Ari’s breath against your neck sends shivers down your body, “I think I can do both, but only for you.” He spins you around in his lap, causing you to face him. “But, for the first one. You do have to give yourself over to me. It’s the only way it’ll work.” Ari stares at you with his big blue eyes, his gaze flickering down to your plump lips as a soft smile spreads across your face, your head nodding rapidly. 

“I’ll do anything!” Tears are brought to your eyes as you think of finally getting your wish. No longer will you be alone or unwanted. You give Ari a bright smile when he grins at you, his hand coming up and resting on your cheek while his thumb strokes it. Subconsciously grinding down onto the large bulge in his pants, feeling the pool of slick building between your legs.

“Anything?” You nod again. Ari smirks at how eager you are. “Will you keep Santa warm even after I’m done breeding you?” The nod you give sends shocks of pleasure straight to his thickening cock, the member nearly breaking through the material as he hardens. Ari lifts you slightly, pulling his cock free before settling you back onto his lap. A grunt leaves him when your soaked core touches him, “Aren’t you a naughty girl, wearing nothing underneath this whole time while sitting on a stranger’s lap? You were expecting this, weren’t you?” The shy look you give him answers his questions.

Biting your lip, you slowly begin to rub yourself against him. Soaking Ari’s giant cock, soft moans escape you when his thick mushroom tip hits your swollen clit. “Please, Santa! I’ve been a good girl!” A scream falls from your lips when Ari thrusts himself deep inside, not giving you any time to adjust as he grips your hips and fucks you down onto his cock. Your head falls back, eyes rolling to the back, mouth hanging open. “F–Feels good! So good! Please!” 

Ari growls, his eyes fluttering as he feels your juices soak his pants. His hips thrust rapidly, hitting your sweet spot perfectly as his heavy sacks tighten. “Good fucking girl! You’re so fucking tight!” Quickly standing, Ari continues to fuck into you as he lies you down on the couch. His large form covers you as he pounds deep inside your tight little hole. The girth of his cock stretches you perfectly. “You feel so good, darling! You’ll forever be mine once I fill you up!” Ari buries his face into your neck, planting kisses and marks along your flesh. His grunts and your moans fill the room, and the feel of your walls fluttering around him causes Ari to bite down on your neck before he grunts into your ear. “You’re going to carry my children! Walking around the North Pole, swollen and glowing!” 

“Everyone!” thrust “will!” thrust “know!” thrust “your!” thrust “MINE!!” With a rawr, Ari’s hips stutter roughly into you, his balls tightening, and his chest heaves as he cums deep inside your cunt. Spurts of warm white cum shoot out of his swollen tip, overfilling your womb. He continues to thrust until your back arches, walls squeezing and milking his throbbing member as your orgasm hits hard, your sweet juices squirting out of you and soaking his uniform. Ari falls onto you, trying to catch his breath as you wrap your tiny arms around his muscular body. He pulls back and looks deep into your eyes with a dazed smile. “You’re my good girl, understand?” 

“Yes, I’m your good girl.” He slowly pulls out of you before moving down your exhausted body, opening your legs so that he can see his cum leak out. He groans, his thick fingers moving closer to your quivering hole and pushing it back inside. He leans forward and takes your swollen clit between his lips, beginning to suck. His fingers thrust and curl as he laps at your cute little button. “Santa! Oh! Fuck!” A slap fills the room, and your back arches as pain and pleasure shoot through your cunt and up your spine. 

“Bad girl! No swearing!” He growls into your cunt, burying his face deep into your sweet honey pot. “You taste so fucking sweet! I get why my elves and The Grinch are so fucking obsessed!” His tongue and fingers move fast against your sweet cunt, and the groans that leave his lips add extra vibrations to his movements, causing pornographic screams to escape you. When Ari curls his fingers into the correct spot, black spots cover your vision as your back arches, your eyes roll back, and your juices squirt out of you and directly into Ari’s mouth. He groans as he drinks your sweetness up, not missing a spot. 

Ari pulls back, sitting on his legs as he looks at you. His greying beard is covered in your juices, and his hat has fallen off, causing his long hair to stick to his sweaty forehead. His darkened eyes peer down at your blacked-out form, a smirk making its way onto his face as he glances down at your puffy red pussy. Standing, Ari fixes his uniform, tucking his cock back in and snapping his fingers, causing himself to look as good as new before he looks around the room. With a wave of his hand, everything in your house disappears. Ari leans down, picking you up bridal style before disappearing back to the North Pole. As you both appear in his bedroom, he lays you down onto his soft, red and green silk sheets and glances down at you with a soft smile. “I can’t wait for you to be full with my children.” Ari gently kisses your forehead, and his hand comes up and strokes your cheek. “Welcome home, Mrs Claus.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[shotmrmiller]

✨Toni~✨

I come with an idea. I need more FWB! Simon. I need angst, I need to suffer from this man, I know he would do us so dirty.

Like imagine since the both of him and reader are non exclusive, but reader gets knocked up. She's panicking because she's on birth control, trying to figure out who she slept with last and it's HIM-

And maybe, just maybe the last time they slept together, they had a fight. Because this Mansss decided to leave us after an argument, because he had another 'appointment'.

So yeah know, now we got to tell this dick we're knocked up. And I don't know you can go from there, if you don't like this idea, delete it ignore it.🫠

BUT ANGST.

Thank you for your time, I love you Toni you rock like always! 💓

oh, so dirty.

esp if i use the fwb simon from the (platonic) cbf johnny au i got.

Johnny held your hand as you waited the 5 minutes for the results of the pregnancy test.

"What am I gonna do if it's positive, Johnny? I can't...I'm not ready to be a mum!" you sniffled and took in a shuddered breath. "What are the chances that I'm the 1%?"

His expression was solemn, thin lips set in a firm line. "Ye finally gonna tell me tha' the father is Simon or do ye wish to continue playin' yer little game?" Johnny rasped.

You rest your head on his shoulder and tiredly close your eyes.

"Was hoping I'd never have to tell you. It was supposed to be just a quick knocking of boots and then we both went my merry, his miserable, ways. But as per usual, I'm just dogged by misfortune."

The wait for the timer to ring had your heart slamming against your ribcage. The prospect of birthing a child you never even thought about having had bile rising up to your throat, leaving an acrid taste on your tongue.

You start at the piercing ring of the timer but don't move to get up.

Johnny, forever your hero, is the one who bites the bullet for you.

He gently flips over the stick, stares at it for a second, then drags a hand down his face. He also doesn't look at you as he utters, "So are ye gonna tell 'em?"

You hastily crawl over to the toilet bowl and empty your stomach.

Pregnant.

--

You told Johnny everything. How it started that one night when he had been over here for drinks, and you had put Johnny to bed because he'd gotten to sloshed, to propositioning him and then the weekly hook ups.

Well, almost everything. He didn't need to know that you gave Simon a sloppy toppy in his kitchen while he snored away that same night you asked him to fuck you.

And then how it finally ended. Simon getting redressed at witching hour because some other tart called him to go over. (your thighs had still been wet from his spend at that time)

So you had called him an unpaid whore; A worthless piece of meat— good for nothing other than cock— and told him that if he leaves, you and he are done.

He had huffed out a laugh, grabbed his motorcycle helmet off your dinner table, and walked out the door without a backward glance.

Johnny hadn't said a word the entire time, but then again, he didn't have to. His countenance said it all.

Disappointment.

He looked so devastatingly disappointed that your eyes welled with tears in seconds and spilled— one fat drop after the other until he pulled you into his arms and held you as you wept, your grief and anguish visceral.

--

"Ye've gotta tell him, bonnie. He has the right to ken."

You let out an aggrieved sigh. Again, with this. "No. He hasn't texted in weeks. Clearly, Simon doesn't give a damn about me. 'Sides, we don't need him when you're around."

A wave of dizzying nausea slams into you, and your world beings to tilt on its axis.

"Don't feel so good, Johnny, I think I need to sit down."

Strong arms catch you as your body crumples and everything goes dark.

--

You rouse from your sleep and find yourself in Johnny's bed with a sharp pounding in your head. Groaning, you turn over to your side and press your fingers into your temples— hoping to alleviate some of the pain when your phone's screen lights up.

Simon's calling.

Goddamnit Johnny. Bloody nosy parker.

You decline it and wait for his text. He's always hated when you ignored his calls on purpose.

And there it is.

Where you ever gonna tell me?

Nothing you need to know about.

No? I thought you were on birth control.

We don't need you.

That mean you're keepin' it?

My baby? Yes, obviously.

Our. Stay at Johnny's, I'm coming over.

No, no. Stay at your girl's house. We'll be just fine without you.

Cute. I'll see you in 10.

(lowkey wondering how he would react if you told him it's johnny's. lol)