#they are so whipped for each other xoxo

[sincerelyxnini]

ceo tae meets spideykoo

#taekookau

Young, rich CEO Taehyung has no time to think about self-righteous superheroes flying in the city, much less spend precious time talking to them in the dead of night.

Until spiderman falls through his office window at 3am, bruised and battered, pleading for help.

"Shit," Taehyung hisses. The hero is heavy in his arms, and definitely would've thumped to the floor had Taehyung not caught him.

Isn't it meant to be the other way around, the hero saving the innocent civilian? When Taehyung had woken up at 4am yesterday morning, he didn't think he'd still be here, almost 24 hours later, with a dazed and stumbling "mighty" hero clinging to him.

"Alright." Taehyung hauls the deadweight in his arms to his office couch. "Work with me here, Spidey."

But Spiderman just mumbles something incoherent. His head lolls to the side and drops onto Taehyung's shoulder. Then, he hiccups.

"Yeah. Thanks for that wonderful input."

Taehyung can't help his sour mood. There's two reports still pending for his approval, an extensive Excel spreadsheet he has to double check, and now there's blood on his silk dress shirt.

He sighs deeply, fighting the urge to groan when Spiderman warblers something unintelligible — all pained groans and breathy words. He coughs, thick and wet.

Taehyung dumps him on the couch. Spiderman sinks into it with an agonised exclamation of "/shit/!", and maybe the CEO feels a little bad about that.

"What happened to you?" Taehyung eyes him critically, arms crossed. There are scrapes and tears on his uniform. The hero's arms curl around his stomach, hunching in on himself in pain.

In a few minutes, Taehyung finds himself hunched over his desk, rummaging around for a first aid kit. It's so eerily quiet inside, nothing but Spiderman's anguished breaths. Despite the cool night, Taehyung feels the beginnings of sweat begin to trail down his spine.

With his painkillers and first aid kit in hand, Taehyung kneels down on the ground beside Spiderman's immobilised body. There's nothing except toned muscles and a faint trembling to his form that Taehyung can see with the suit on.

Fuck, he hopes Spiderman isn't severely wounded. His first aid kit is the size of his hand, and Taehyung doesn't know any complicated first aid in the first place.

Heroes also have some weird aversion to going to the hospital.

Honestly, Taehyung can relate. He's much rather chug down some nice, warm chicken noodle soup laced with three cans of energy drinks before stumbling to his computer in a daze of headaches, nausea, and jittery restlessness.

"Gonna take your mask off, okay?" Taehyung reaches towards his face. "I've got some painkillers. But I'll need confirmation from you, Spidey."

Finally, Spiderman mumbles out a weak, "yeah, do it. Please."

Taehyung holds back a surprised smile at the polite manners. "Here I go."

After that, hours pass in a blur. Mask off, Spiderman looks much more like a college kid than someone who has the responsibility of a whole city's safety on his shoulders. Quite pretty, if you ask Taehyung.

But you probably shouldn't, because he'll most likely roll his eyes, grumble, and /deny/ that Spiderman's long, fluttering lashes and flushed cheeks, his petal lips and strong nose, his angular jaw, sharp brows, and wide bambi eyes are absolutely /not/ endearing, nor attractive. And if Taehyung stared at him for longer than necessary under the dim, fluorescent wash of the city's 3am lights filtering through his window, it's because he was looking for any more wounds to clean.

When the painkillers seem to kick in, and Spiderman's whimpering descends into ragged breaths, Taehyung stands up and finds the spare pair of dress shirt and pants he keeps. (A precaution, really. He's had more than his fair share of spilled coffees and burst pens).

"When you're ready, change into these. I'll leave the first aid kit for you here if you want to clean yourself up a little more. The couch is yours for tonight." At Spiderman's widened, panicked eyes, Taehyung huffs out a laugh. "I'm not going. Just gonna make myself some coffee, then I'll come back, yeah?"

Spiderman relaxes, eyes fluttering tiredly, and nods.

"I'll bring you some water as well."

With that, Taehyung is up and striding out of the office. He stops by the bathroom, stares at himself and the splatters of blood on his shirt in the mirror, asks himself what he's doing.

His reflection stares back at him. /What the fuck /are/ you doing?/

Taehyung hangs his head and lets out a sardonic laugh. He doesn't know.

But that's his problem to think about tomorrow, when he's got a raging migraine, chicken noodle soup, and more work to distract him.

When he comes back to his office with a mug of coffee, a water bottle, and a spare blanket from the staff room, Spiderman has already changed into the spare clothes. In a heap by the couch lies his tattered suit.

Spiderman's eyes are on him the second he steps foot inside. It's quite charming, the way his dark gaze twinkles with curiosity, even under the low lights.

"Spidey, catch." Taehyung throws the water bottle. Probably not the best move to chuck a full, hefty water bottle at an injured man's head, but Spiderman catches it easily, even if he winces harshly. Taehyung shoots him an apologetic look. "Shit, sorry."

Spiderman just shrugs before downing the water in cyclic bursts of desperate drinking and heavy breaths. Taehyung watches on, a little concerned, as Spiderman finishes the bottle within minutes.

"Impressive."

"Thank you." /Oh/, there's Spiderman's voice. It's smooth, definitely young enough for college. He peers up at Taehyung. "Really, for everything."

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow. "You're welcome. Here's a blanket. Sleep on the couch if you need to." He strides over this time and hands the blanket to the hero. "I'll just be working for a bit more."

Spiderman takes the soft blanket with a frown. "Working now?"

Taehyung shrugs. "Yeah."

"But it's 3 am. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Taehyung can't help but let the corners of his lip quirks up. "/You're/ the injured one here. Worry about yourself first. I'll be fine."

No, he most likely won't be. Maybe he'll pull another 48 hours without sleep.

"...Alright."

"I'll keep the lights off." Taehyung walks back over to his chair and settles in behind the desk. "Just sleep, Spidey."

Spiderman slowly settles more comfortably on the couch. He drapes the blanket over himself and peeks out at Taehyung over the top. Taehyung thinks he looks like a burrito of softness with two sparkly doe eyes.

"Good night."

How sweet. Taehyung turns back to his computers and documents to hide his grin. "Good night. Sleep well."

—-

Taehyung wakes up the next morning, face planted into the hard wood of his desk. He feels like shit; head cloudy, mouth dry, eyes burning.

He squints at the bright sunlight piercing the room.

But There's the faint aroma of… something in the air. Taehyung's mind clears a little more. Tea? And… a pastry?

Eyes opening a little more, he lifts his head up, only to find a warm mug of tea in a takeaway cup and a croissant on a saucer. There's a note behind it, too.

Taehyung picks it up and forces his sleepy mind to make sense of the small scribbles.

/Thank you for last night. I didn't want to wake you because you looked so peaceful. I'll repay you for everything over the coming days, I promise. I hope you enjoy your breakfast ^^

~ Spiderman./

Taehyung stares at it. Then, his eyes move back to the tea and croissants.

He doesn’t know what the hell is happening. Doesn’t know what the hell /just/ happened for him to suddenly get the attention of one of the city’s most revered superheroes.

The only thing he knows, with reluctant dread, is that things are about to change for his perfect (overworked, stressful) life. Something in the shape of a young man with doe eyes and a tendency to barge in his life and make him question everything he knows.

Taehyung sighs. Well, this is going to be interesting.

—-

He starts getting gifts. Flowers, breakfast, lunch, late dinners. Small notes with flowery writing and small doodles, little decorative statues for his desk, expensive jewelry in chanel boxes.

So much that the rumour of his "secret admirer" has spread through his office like wildfire.

None of them know about the little signature that accompanies every bunch of gifts: a little spider, with the loopy signature of 'Spidey'.

Every single time, he regards the presents with something akin to indifference before reluctantly moving to accept it. He’s a CEO with all the money of the world in his hands. He doesn’t truly need some takeaway lunch that’s undoubtedly from a street vendor, nor another bouquet of flowers to add to his endless pile.

(But that’s only when someone is inside the office with him. When he’s alone, Taehyung likes to take his time staring at the endearing little presents in awe; smelling every flower, savouring the warm food, biting his lip in vain before the uncontrollable smile blooms out because /holy shit, it feels nice to have someone do something so caring and thoughtful/.)

"Ah, Kim Taehyung." His helmet whirs back to reveal a gorgeous, dimpled face underneath. "My name is Kim Namjoon. Or, you may know me more as Iron Man."

"Iron Man." Taehyung walks over to his desk. Shuffles his papers like this is just a normal business meeting. "What can I do for you?"

"I want to thank you for helping Jeo— Spiderman."

Taehyung blinks. Was this another gift of some sorts? "You're welcome."

"He also wanted to ask if you've been enjoying his gifts."

Ah. Taehyung's lips quirk up into a smile. The lingering taste of Spiderman's gifted chamomile tea from this morning still rests on his tongue. It was too watery, really, and with too much sugar. But the note had said that he’d made it himself, so Taehyung instantly loved it. (But no one’s ever going to know that). "Please tell him that I'd rather answer that personally, face to face. He doesn't need to book a schedule, just crawl in through the window like he did that other night."

“Ah, yes. That night.” At that, Namjoon looks a little apologetic. "I admit, that wasn't the best way to ask for help."

"Not really."

"But it worked."

"Surprisingly."

Namjoon coughs stiffly. "I'll talk to him."

Taehyung wants to laugh at how Namjoon keeps looking more and more awkward by the second, but he maintains his poker face. The city's saving grace, fidgeting around Taehyung's office in his hulking, metallic suit, floundering for words.

Maybe superheroes aren't as robotic or ass-tight and self-righteous as he thought.

Spiderman's doe eyes, wide and curious and glimmering and thankful, flash in his mind.

Maybe.

Taehyung cocks his head. "So…"

"Right. I'll, uh, I'll take my leave now."

"Okay—"

Namjoon strides over to his opened window and clambers out. For one heart-stopping moment, he just tips out and Taehyung catches a flash of flailing arms and a small squeak.

Then, there's a high-pitched revving sound, and suddenly Iron Man shoots up into the sky, flying for the horizon.

Do superheroes have some weird aversion to doors, too?

Taehyung stares blankly for a moment. What has his life come to? Truly, he has no idea.

Then, he looks back down at his papers. A rose petal lies between the pages.

(And he smiles softly).

—-

Spiderman doesn't come in a flashy red suit this time around.

Instead, it's a messy-haired college boy in a paint-splattered hoodie and ripped jeans clambering in through his skyscraper office window. One with tattoos curling up one forearm, continuing behind the pushed-up sleeves of the jacket, and piercings decorating his ears, one on his eyebrow. His combat boots thump heavily against Taehyung's carpeted floor a second later.

"You look better."

Taehyung's words bring a deeper flush to Spiderman's face. "Thank you.” Spiderman says it with a small stutter, like he didn’t expect such a comment.

"Can I help you with anything at this wonderful business time of 2:32 am?"

Spiderman's eyes widen. "Is it too late? I just finished a project, and you stayed up at this hour last time, so I thought—"

"Relax," Taehyung drawls, "I was joking, Spidey."

Spiderman blinks. "Jeongguk. My name is Jeon Jeongguk."

"Huh." Taehyung cocks his head. Watches the way Jeongguk's eyes rove around his room, undoubtedly seeing the new addition of bouquet flowers in expensive vases, small painted canvases hung up on the walls. All gifted by him. "Jeongguk."

"Yes?"

"You wanted to know what I thought about the gifts?"

Jeongguk pauses. Then, another wave of light red washes across his cheeks like a rose flower blooming. "Maybe?"

"I think that no one's ever done that for me before." Taehyung leans back on his desk. "I think that they're quite thoughtful, and I have no idea how they get in here, but they're always a pleasant surprise."

"Oh?" Jeongguk takes a few steps closer, almost shyly.

"I think that it's nice to find little notes of encouragement throughout the day. I've never received such beautiful bouquets, and I keep finding petals everywhere."

"That's… that's good."

"And, I think that whoever sent them should just brave up and come a little closer so I can stop screaming across the room." Taehyung smirks when Jeongguk flushes, foundering a little before striding towards him. He stops a few steps away from Taehyung. "Closer…" Jeongguk shuffles a few more steps. "Just a bit more." This time, Jeongguk stops when they're chest to chest. Taehyung leans in, feels the searing heat of Jeongguk's body pressed against his softly, before whispering in his ear. "I think that they're quite romantic." He smiles when Jeongguk's breath hitches. "And maybe the sender didn't think that I wouldn't notice the little hearts, or the flirty compliments in every note."

"I—"

"And I think I'd like to spend a little more time with someone so thoughtful. Maybe go to a cafe and drink coffee with them, instead of alone. But…" Taehyung leans back with a soft sigh. "They’ve never asked."

Jeongguk just blinks dazedly. A soft, "oh," leaves his mouth.

Taehyung smiles. "So, Spiderman, can I ask you to ask them for me? You know this city best. I've left my number on a note, slipped it into your pocket if you didn't realise. Call me when you do."

"Wait." Jeongguk reaches up to clutch at the lapels of Taehyung's blazer before he moves away even more. "It was me. I sent those gifts, ask /me/. Uh, please?"

"You’re so—." Taehyung wants to scream. How can someone be so… Taehyung can’t find the right word. But it’s one that makes him want to hold Spidey and make sure he never gets hurt again. Oh, how soft he’s become. “I know it was you.”

"Just…" Jeongguk lets out a long breath, steeling himself. "I thought you were cute and maybe I developed an itty bitty little crush on you when you helped me and maybe I visited your office to put the gifts in and it made me warm to see you displaying them, even though you knew they were from me, and I know they weren't the best but—"

"Cute."

Jeongguk dissolves into flustered coughs.

"You have my number, Jeongguk." Taehyung reaches up to gently unfurl Jeongguk's hands from his jacket. "Go back and sleep, text me when you have time."

"Yeah, okay," Jeongguk breathes. He steps back. "I'll text you."

Taehyung watches in amusement as he stumbles backwards to the window. "You do that."

"Just— just wait for me." Jeongguk climbs back out the window, hooking a leg over.

"Always. Oh, and Jeongguk?" Taehyung lowers his voice into something softer, something more sincere. "Be careful."

"I will, Taehyung. Bye."

“Bye, Jeongguk.” Taehyung smiles.

Jeongguk stares for a moment, eyes wide. Then, with a small squeak of “good night!” and an endearing salute, Spiderman swings back into the restless city.

—-

Months later, Taehyung finds himself in much the same position as that fateful night: with an armful of Spiderman, struggling to get to the couch.

Except, this time, they're in his apartment.

And Jeongguk isn't in pain. In fact, he's smiling — wide and silly and beautiful — eyes scrunching, and his breathless laughs float through the air. "Tae—"

"Gguk, I swear to god, if you don't stop kissing me—" Jeongguk lands a kiss on his cheek, one on his nose. Taehyung can't hold back his laugh, turning his face away. He stumbles over someone's shoe. "Jeongguk!"

"Babe, hold still."

"/Hold still/—" Taehyung feels something soft and cushiony behind his legs (the couch, finally!) before he throws himself backwards. "You're so impatie—"

Taehyung's words get cut off when Jeongguk looms over him, hooks an arm around his waist, and dips his head low for a sweet, slow kiss. Taehyung can feel Jeongguk's warmth through the thick hoodie, can feel the press of the other's body against his as Jeongguk tilts his head for something deeper, groans when Taehyung curls an arm in his hair and gives it a little tug.

Jeongguk leans back with a satisfied smile, lips spit-licked and eyes warm as they look down at Taehyung. "Nice." He leans down for one more kiss. "Extraordinary."

And, well—

When Taehyung woke up at 4am all those months ago, he didn't think he'd still be awake almost 24 hours later with an injured hero clinging to him. He certainly didn't think that it would lead to this. To nights together in his apartment, precious gifts, late night dates and early morning breakfasts together.

“Hey, babe, Namjoon wanted me to ask you if you wanted to come to his place for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, of cou—” Taehyung is cut off with a sweet kiss. “Jeongguk!”

“Sorry, got distracted. So, that’s a yes?”

“I swear to go—”

To a boyfriend named Jeon Jeongguk, who loves to kiss him silly and call him "babe", like everything he does doesn't make Taehyung want to melt in endearment and affection.

But he's not complaining.

Taehyung didn't even want to waste a single thought on superheroes before. But, as Jeongguk leans in for another slow kiss and murmurs the sweetest nothings in his ear, Taehyung finds that he doesn't mind wasting all his thoughts on this one in his arms.

And he loves it, just as deeply as he loves Jeongguk.

-

hope you liked it ! come talk to me on my retrospring or check out the original twitter post <3

[skyrigel]

Half my soul

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x twin!fem!Reader

Benjicot blackwood masterlist

“ You are betrothed to Cregan Stark, but your twin brother isn't happy about it, sulking and being rude — you finally confront him.” [ wc: 1.1k ]

.⁠｡✧Jealous and possesive behaviour, fluff, talks of eloping, angst, hand fiddling, soul mate talks, incest ( no sex but there's lot of obsessing and justification like ‘ we shared a womb dumbie, you belong with me’ jokes ) .⁠｡✧Please be kind to yourself xoxo !!! credits to @strangergraphics-archive for text dividor

Reblogs and comments are really appreciated :)

“ Aemond...Ae—” You ran with your dress dangling around your feet, rushing ahead with your footsteps echoing in the dimly lit hallway.

“ What ? ” Aemond snapped back, his hair whip lashing as he turned back to you, his mouth perched close to disadain.

“ You— why are you like this ? ” You narrowed your gaze at him, he leaned back, straightening up to his full length.

“ Like what ? ” He asked, tapping his feet on the floor, you could have punched him for his nonchalance.

“ Like mean.” You supplied, “ I can't help but notice it, you aren't like..like this Aem, this—” you vaguely gestured the whole of him, “ I don't like this.”

Aemond stopped his tapping, eyeing you, no he was devouring you with the way his intensity deepened, before he cleared his throat.

“ You're mistaken, sister.”

You scoffed on that, crossing your arms against your chest.

“ Are we done ? Because I have things to do.”

“ No.” You said simply.

“ No ? ” He huffed, mouth tightening in a scowl, arching back his brows.

“ Come with me, to my chambers.” you offered, before he could refuse, you held his hand and dragged him face first.

“ I have some—” He was walking behind you, making whiny faces that you no longer had to see to know, you could feel him, he was your brother, your blood, half your soul.

“ No, you are just going to sulk in a corner or indulge in some not so fancy buisness.”

“ you mean the silk street ? ” He suggested and you merely bristled at the mention, it was common amongst men, especially men of court and it shouldn't bother you if your brother is spending time with some whore in exchange for gold. But he's your brother, he belongs to you first and no else.

You shared a womb for seven heaven's sake he was yours first, out of all, his time and company was yours to enjoy. It was your right, always have been.

“ You never learnt how to talk to a lady.”

You turned back to him, as both of you entered your bed chambers.

You settled on the couch with a little ‘oomp’ as he watched you, these days he either watched you or sulked at you and sometimes both.

“ Ofcourse...” He bristled, sitting across from you, “ You already like that stark.”

“ Cregan Stark.” You raised a brow.

Aemond looked away with an eye roll, fiddling with his rings, his slender pretty fingers, you frowned but he took no notice of your concern, sighing you took his hand in yours, calming his nerves down.

“ You don't like him ? ” You meant it as a question but Aemond already looked like he had made a point. He had stopped fiddling, letting you take half his misery—half his pain.

“ I don't need to.” He said, what he felt like a very neutral tone but reeked of malice, “ You are betrothed to him, you like him ! ” He raised his voice in accusation, you couldn't bear that, no, Cregan Stark was an amazing man, a true lord but he's no-one when it came to your brother, your Aemond.

“ But you're my brother, your opinion matters to me.” You leaned, bringing his hand to your lap, fingers entwinng like they were made for each other, because they were —moulded by the old gods and new, ofcourse they would be, He's your blood, your brother, your soulmate.

Something flickered in his eye, the one not covered in his patch, something so close as hope, blazing like fire that ran in his blood.

“If I don't like him then you won't marry him ? ”

You could have laughed, could have hung your head and shaked him because no, ofcourse there was no way out of this marriage, it was your duty towards your family but Aemond was your first family, and if something could make him happy then so be it.

“ I don't think mother will let me see the sun if I denied.” You said, because it was true, He almost winced, “ But I could elope away.”

“ Alone ? ” He asked, now getting cosy as he rested his head on your shoulder, letting his hair prick you on your arm where you cradled his wrist, making small cosmic stars.

“ No Idiot, I was thinking of taking vhagar and you.”

“ Oh.” He said, so sweet that your heart melted, this was your Aemond and not the one who scowled and turned away from you, but this, sweet boy who's your brother, who loves you the most.

“ How far we could go ? ” You asked him, tilting your head to his side, your nose taking his scent.

“ To the world's end.” He said in your shoulder, his voices rippling like waves inside you. You chuckled softly, kissing his forehead.

“ I missed this.” you told him, “ I missed us.”

Aemond pulled back, worrying his jaw but saying nothing, he withdrew his hand to undone the patch on his eye, his blue eye shining at you. You smiled at him.

“ I don't know what I would when you will be gone.” His mouth moved, his lips soft as petals, how many nights you had kissed him goodnight until he stopped coming. Aemond was very soft like his throat would collapse were he any loud.

But you would know him anywhere, just the way his mouth moved or the way he took his breath, you would know him.

“ North isn't so far, is it ? ”

“ It is.” Aemond shaked his head, softening because how could he not, “come here.”

He cupped your face, pulling you closer till your forehead rested against his. You closed your eyes just like him, letting your souls connect in their mist

“ You can come and meet me, we can go around riding vhagar, they say north is beautiful.”

“Just snow.” He hummed, his breath on your cheek, warm and slick.

“I love you.” you whispered, opening your eyes and he was already looking at you, breath drawn in.

“I love you more.” He said, kissing the corner of your mouth, his nose nuzzled in your face for some moments, making the moment stop.

“It's going to be okay.” you smiled, smearing your thumb across his cheek and he pulled you until you were on his lap.

“It will be.” He sniffed in your sweet hair, wrapping his arms around your whole body like he wouldn't let you go and he wouldn't.

You were half his soul, there was no one else you could belong but him, all his, only his.

[nanaslutt]

I LOVEE YOU FOR FEEDING USS😭😩❤️!!!

I had a little brain rot of geto and getting each other off. Like he’s fingering, while reader is jerking him off. idkkk smt like that. It crossed my mind, and I had to share😘 xoxo

you ask, i deliver<3 thank you so much for this, this prompt made me dizzy

Contains: fem reader, mutual masturbation, fluff, established relationship, whipped!geto, he's literally so in love, cursing, soooo much dirty talk, praise, nipple play

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

It was a lazy day at home with geto. The both of you having the day off, schedules finally aligning.

You laid on his chest, clad in a spaghetti strap tank top and panties, one leg slung over his hips; him in nothing but his black boxers, big hands caressing the skin on your lower back and shouldes.

Your lips were slotting together passionately, slurping and quiet hums into each others mouths could be heard throughout the room as you kissed each other with fervor.

"I love kissin you baby," he pulled back to confess, rubbing his thumb into the soft skin on your shoulder as his other hand got a bit frisky, dropping to your ass and squeezing the fat there.

Geto leaned in breifly to leave a small peck on your lips after he spoke. Crimson blush spreading over your face, a bashfull smile following it as you cradled his chiseled cheeks in your hands.

Sidding your hand down his face and pulling his bottom lip out with your thumb, exposing his bottom row of teeth as he let you manipulate him, "love kissin you so much too, sugu." you replied, letting his lip slap back into place and chasing it with a kiss.

Starting up another makeout session, you sighed into his mouth when he slid his other large hand to join the first in groping you. Geto used his big palms to squeeze the fat of your ass in circular motions, making your cunt rub against his leg as he did so.

You felt his growing bulge press against the inside of your thigh from where you had your leg slung over his lower body.

"Mmmm" he moaned, sending vibrations against your tongue when he closed his lips around it, sucking softly.

Both of your growing arousal aiding the kiss to turn into a hotter one, now filled with need, "suguru, baby," you whimpered between kisses, eyes still squeezed shut when you spoke, "need you.." you emphasized by sliding a soft hand down the ridges of his abs, reaching between the two of you and placing your palm over his bulge.

"Looks like you need me too," smiling against his lips when he laughed at your realization of his arousal. "Damn right I do sweet thing." pressing his lips to yours in one long kiss before dropping his lips to assault to your neck with kisses.

"Oh f-fuck." you whimpered, eyes trying and failing to open, fluttering closed at the feeling of his plump lips sucking at the sensitive skin of your neck. Your hand increased pressure on his cock when you felt his tongue join the mix, darting out every so often to leave wet kisses agaisnt your throat.

"Yeahh, so fucking sensitive here huh baby?" he whispered against your skin, cock twitching at your reactions combined with the rubbing against his clothed shaft.

"Stop t-teasin babyy," you whined when he continued his minstrations on your neck, "fuck me, please." you begged, smaller hand pulling at his hair slightly to get him of your neck. Lips diconnecting from your jugular with a pop, "mmmm, as nice as that sounds, I wanna try something else right now, is that okay?" he asks, beautiful hooded eyes staring into yours.

"Course it is, I trust you." pressing a kiss to his cheek when you finished your sentence.

“M not sure the best position to do this in, hmm..” he thought for a second, hand coming up to dramatically caress at his imaginary goatee before you practically watched the lightbulb go off above his head.

Grabbing your body and flipping your positions, geto now snugly between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his hips as he hovered above your frame resting comfortably against the mattress.

He slid a big hand up your shirt teasingly while he spoke, “thought about havin you on top of me, but I think this’ll feel better for you.” tipping his head foldly down at you, smile full of adoration.

"Thought we could get each other off like this," he sat back on his heels, your thigh still slung over his hips as he used his body to push you up against the pillows, making your body slide up the bed, your frame curling in on yourself slightly.

"You wanna dry hump me?" you smirked, confusion laced in your voice but ultimately on board with whatever he presented to you.

A large palm groped your chest underneath your shirt while he used his other to stop your hips from girating against his, "That a good idea baby, but not exactly what I had in mind."

Letting go of your hip when your own stoped their rolling, geto gigging at the puzzled expression that plastered itself on your face.

Covering his palm with your own he placed your hand over his bulge, making you rub his twitching cock together, before he let go, leaving your hand against him as he started teasing his fingers at the hem of your panties.

Thick fingers splayed themselves on your lower stomach while the pad of his thumb landed expertly on your panty-clad clit, rubbing gently cirlces on the nub to get his idea across.

"How does jerking me off while I play with your little pussy sound?" he breathily teased into the air when he felt your fingers squeeze extra hard over his clothed tip.

"Fuck, sounds perfect." you agreed, urging him to take his boxers off when your fingers proved a little difficulty in sliding inside the tight fabric from this angle.

He paused his rubbing, retracting his hand that was stimulating your breast before he slid back, drawing his boxers off his legs and throwing them onto the floor, getting back into place.

Now having an unobstructed range on his cock, you wrapped your hand around the warm shaft with both hands, dragging them up slowly; paying special attention to his sensitive tip; then sliding them back down.

"God, you touch me better than I touch myself, baby." He moaned, head tipping back in a groan before he set his sights back on your pussy, not wanting you to feel neglected.

Geto pulled your panties to the side, holding them open against your thigh with one large hand while the other gathered your wetness on the tips of his fingers, using your slick to smooth the slide against your swollen bud.

He was mesmorized watching your reactions, mouthing dropping open in a little o shape, watching your lashes flutter as your squeezed your eyes shut, keeping up the delicious pace on his cock.

"Bet that feels good huh?" his deep voice resonated in the air; though he already knew your answer before it was confirmed by your small moans and head that nodded in his direction.

"Yeahhh just relax pretty, let me take care of you while you stroke my fucking cock." His filthy voice growled out, making your cunt gush out wetness as you focused on his tip, rubbing your fingers against his frenulum, "D'ya feel me twitching? haha," he giggles at your ministrations.

"Yeah sugu, feels like this when its inside me too," you reply, making the air feel a little less tense when he lets out a genuine laugh.

"Shit, that's kinda embarrassing, didn't know you could feel that." he says, abandoning the attention on your clit and opting to rub his fingers at the opening of your tight cunt, slowly pushing his middle finger into the ring of your cunt.

"Guess its kinda like how I feel every time ur pussy spasms around my cock, huh?" embarrassment from the earlier confession being pushed down as his pleasure increased rapidly.

"God.." geto groaned, staring intently at how your tiny hole swallowed up his finger greedily, beginning to rotate it, feeling every bump and ridge of your walls. Mesmerized when he spoke, "How does your tight little pussy open up for my cock when it feels like there's barely enough room in here for just my one finger...?" he whispers in admiration, always so fascinated with how you managed to take his size with little to no complaints every time.

"Jus love ur cock so much sugu, I take it for you." That made pre drip steadily from his tip, wetting your digits when you rubbed the tip of your index finger against the slit of his dick.

Your words alone never failed to work him up to an embarrassingly aroused state, and so quickly at that.

Geto bit his lip and tried to focus on not blowing his load all over your soft skin just yet, a second finger joining your wetness, in hopes to catch you off guard a bit, slowing your pace on his sensitive cock and allowing him to fucking breathe.

"S-shit baby," you moaned at the feeling of his thick fingers curling towards your tummy and into your most sensitive spot. Pace on his length successfully being paused as you relished in the electricity shooting up your spine at his ministrations.

"This is fucking insane," half laugh half moan leaving geto's lips, "I'm so close already."

It's true, what you were currently participating in was incredibly intimate and extremely erotic. Getting to please each other's most sensitive parts, learning more in depth about what makes you both twitch and squirm while being so close to each other made your heads feel extremely dizzy.

Atmosphere falling into a more romantic one as you both opted to stay quiet, squelching and moans from the both of your lungs intertwining in the air.

Geto's other large hand started caressing your body, pushing your tank top over your breasts, fabric settling against your collarbones. He leaned forward, fucking his fingers into you at a steady pace, thumb stimulating you clit expertly with the same hand.

His body was now practically pressed against your own as he took your nipple into his mouth, moans and whines from the pleasure he was providing you going straight to his cock.

Nothing but love coursing through his veins when he felt you desperately trying to keep up the pace on his cock as he brought you rapidly to the brink of your orgasm.

"Close?" he mumbled against your skin, sucking your nipple back into his mouth and drawing his name over it with his skilled tongue, feeling your walls squeeze his fingers tightly, making it almost hard for him to move inside you.

"C-close." you answered, doing your best to get him to the same place you were at, wanting to feel him cum at the same time as you.

Realizing you succeeded when he said, "me too, lets come together," his moans that were raising in pitch were being muffled into your skin as he sucked harder against your hard bud.

He felt you slip over the edge first, digging your fingers into his scalp and jerking your hand sloppily over his cock. You tugging at his hair and feeling your orgasm around his fingers being just what he needed to reach his release.

Ropes of hot cum shooting out between the two of you, your nipple popping out of his mouth with a wet 'palp' noise as he buried his head between the valley of your breasts, breathing heavily and grunting against you, soft bangs ticking against your skin while his body shook with the intensity of his orgasm.

You ceased your stroking on his dick when you felt him stop twitching, softening against your palm. Geto reluctantly pulled out his fingers from your cavern, wiping your orgasm on your thigh as he tucked his arms around your body, burring his face deeper into your chest.

"That felt so fucking good," he slurred, sleep laced in his voice when he spoke. It was still fairly early in the morning, maybe a mid-morning nap couldn't hurt; you did have the day off together after all. What better activity to do than to cuddle up in the warm sheets with your stupidly handsome boyfriend all afternoon?

"One of your best ideas yet." you confirmed into his hair, feeling a bit bad when you returned his affection, wrapping your arms around his strong back and smearing his cum over his skin. Geto didn't seem to mind though, considering how he had already fallen back asleep.

[probably-writing-x]

Hotter and Hotter

Summary: hi 👋🏼 I don’t know if you take any request now but I will still ask.. Can you write about the scene of the grocery when Conrad just lean on and take a sip (he was soo f hot ) and make it like more flirty and it can go like you want between Conrad x yn? thanks u ❣️

Warnings: Sexual references (Minors DNI)

Author’s Note: I’m not taking requests atm but this came through and I was inspired so maybe I am taking requests, we’ll never know xoxo

“This is the hottest it’s ever been I swear to God,” Conrad grumbles from the couch, hand resting on his chest.

“Well you try and fix the air con then, because it’s doing fucking nothing when we try,” Steven shrugs his shoulders, his head resting back against the seats of the couch from where he sat on the floor.

“You’re an engineer Steven, isn’t this like your job?” Belly points out, dragging her hair away from her face.

The air conditioning in the house had been out all morning and the temperature had been slowly rising with the sun. Now, it was stifling hot inside the house and just as bad outside too. And, clearly, the group were at their wit’s end.

“Okay, can we please stop talking about it? Like, can we talk about anything else?” You roll your eyes, your back against the couch where Conrad was laying, your head mere inches from his.

The two of you had been friends for years, ever since Belly and Steven had started coming to the summer house, you had too. The group of you were always inseparable whenever you were all in Cousins. But, before this summer, you and Conrad had realised your feelings for each other. He’d started calling you every night, texting you more and more often, and eventually the two of you spoke to each other more than anyone else. You’d both agreed, however, that is was not worth the drama for the rest of the group to know that anything was going on. You’d kept things completely private and, so far, it worked.

You’d turned up to the summer house this year terrified to see him again, and when you had done, it was like there was a weird tension that you’d never known before. There were sparks whenever he looked at you, electricity coursing through you whenever you briefly touched. You hadn’t even kissed the boy and yet all you could think about was doing so. It was driving you insane.

“Well, what else do you want to talk about, (y/l/n)?” He turns his head so that it is facing you but you keep your gaze averted away, worried he’ll make you blush.

“Anything,” You groan, “Like, seriously, it’s making it worse if all we talk about is how hot we are.”

He smirks, “You think you’re hot, (y/n)?”

You whip your head around to face him and roll your eyes, “Grow up, Con.”

His smirk remains, eyes trailing over your face as the conversation grows behind you. Jere and Belly were agreeing on getting into the pool and Steven was refusing to join them under the premise that he couldn’t find any swimming shorts in his suitcase.

“How about we head to the store?” Conrad suggests, pushing himself up to sit on the couch, “We can get some cold drinks, some ice cream, anything remotely cold.”

The group all sound into chorus of agreement and you nod too.

“Yeah, just get anything they’ve got,” You encourage, watching as he swings his legs over the side of the couch so that he’s sat next to you now, his knee bumping your shoulder.

“Oh, you’re coming with me,” He nudges you, “I need someone to help me push the cart.”

Conrad stretches out a hand to you and waits for you to take it.

“Right because that’s definitely a two person job,” You roll your eyes, taking the grip of his hand and pushing yourself up from the floor.

“Oh, absolutely it is,” Conrad shrugs his shoulders, walking out of the lounge towards the front door, grabbing his car keys on the way.

———

You sit in the passenger seat and he sets his hand behind your chair as he reverses, the air con in his car blasting enough for you to both cool down.

“Why didn’t we think of coming in your car earlier?” You question, glancing out of the window at the changing street beside you.

Conrad turns his head in your direction, “Because then they’d all want to come.”

You nod in agreement and fall silent, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“So, has anyone said anything about…”

“What? Me and you?” You finish the sentence for him, “Why? Do you think they know?”

Conrad smirks a little, “Jere told me that sometimes you talk in your sleep and he can hear you through his wall.”

You frown just slightly, cogs turning in the expectation of what he was about to say.

“Apparently he heard you call my name,” Conrad fully grins then, turning the car into another corner as he approaches the store.

You feel your face heat up more than the sun was capable of, your heart sinking a little, “I did… I mean he heard… what?”

Conrad chuckles gently and his hand moves from the wheel to squeeze your leg, “Oh come on, (y/l/n), I already knew you were obsessed with me.”

You clench your jaw and look away from him, the embarrassment seeping through you. He squeezes your bare leg again and keeps his hand there as he pulls into a space in the parking lot.

“Okay I’ll get a cart and I’ll meet you at the checkout,” You nod, taking a deep breath to relatively compose yourself as you get out of the car.

Conrad follows behind you, fighting back the smile on his face. He walks up behind you as you go to get a cart, his arms dropping to either side of your hands on the handle, thumbs brushing your pinky fingers.

“See, Ive just got so many questions,” He mumbles the words into your ear as his chin drops to your shoulder.

You feel a tingle go over your spine and quickly step out from underneath his arm, “And I won’t be answering them.”

Conrad persists, of course, pushing the cart into the store and following your every move.

You both take a silent sigh of relief at the feeling of the air con in the store, walking a little slower as if to revel in it for as long as possible.

“Okay, so what was this dream about?” Conrad asks, stopping the cart as you throw in a few items from the produce section.

You make brief eye contact with him in the coldest glare you can muster, “Con, I said we’re not talking about this.”

“I mean, it must’ve been pretty good for you to be calling my name,” He points out nonchalantly, throwing a few bags into the cart, “So, tell me what it was about?”

You spin on your heel and grip the end of the cart, squeezing down on the plastic as you look at him, “Conrad, I don’t remember, okay? Now can we please drop this because you’re being an asshole.”

He raises his hands as if in a gesture of surrender before placing them back on the cart and following you still in your slow steps around the aisles.

Conrad didn’t need to know to boost his ego, or to use it against you. He needed to know because the thought of you thinking of him like that made him feel like a kid with his first crush. He was infatuated, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

Things were awkward between the two of you now, and neither was willing to break the tension with any form of conversation.

You were embarrassed, of course you were. The chemistry between the pair of you had been sky high since you’d arrived back in Cousins - all of the awaited feelings of seeing each other again had come bubbling to the surface. And yet neither of you could do anything about it. So there it stayed - bubbling wildly on a surface that would not release. Of course you were thinking about him, how could you not be?

“Okay, you get the ice and pay for this, I’ll meet you at the car,” You nod, holding your shoulders a little more sure of themselves.

“Oh, so I’m paying?” Conrad raises his brows, stopping in his tracks with a bag of ice in his hands.

“Your daddy’s credit card will,” You taunt in response, disappearing around the corner of another aisle to leave him to his own devices.

Minutes later, Conrad appears through the sliding doors of the store, the fully loaded cart bumping in the parking lot in front of him. You’re stood by the car, waiting for him, two large drink cups in your hands.

“And what’s this?” He nods his head a little towards the drinks, eyes returning back to yours.

“A peace offering,” You shrug your shoulders, “I’m sorry I got annoyed about you asking about… I just, I was embarrassed and I didn’t want you to think I was some weird stalker that was obsessed with you or something.”

Conrad laughs gently, the kind of laugh that always manages to ease your worry. He steps out from around the cart so that he’s mere inches from you.

“You know,” He lowers his torso down to take a slow sip from the drink, darkened eyes staring up at you as he does, “If you wanted to be screaming my name in the night, you should’ve just asked.”

Your mouth falls agape slightly as all words seem to escape you.

“Come on, I’ll load this up before the ice cream starts melting,” He clears his throat, as if nothing had happened, “Get in the car.”

You oblige and sit in the passenger seat waiting for him as he piles the bags into the trunk, climbing into the driver’s seat shortly after.

He reaches over to take his cup from your hand and his fingers brush yours - still electric as you repeat over the words he’d just said.

“So, home?”

You hum in agreement and keep your eyes focused on the road ahead of you as he reverses out of the spot, unable to hide the smile tearing at your face.

———

“We’re back!” Conrad calls out as the two of you head inside, arms full of brown paper bags.

“Thank god!” Jere exclaims, grabbing a couple of the bags from you to alleviate the weight, “Successful trip?”

You and Conrad exchange a quiet glance before looking back and both saying at the same time, “Yeah.”

Jeremiah frowns at you and his brother, “You two are weird.”

He helps to unpack the shopping before turning back to both of you.

“Hey, Con, did you ask (y/n) about her dre-“

“Grow up Jere,” Conrad snaps quickly, throwing the last bag of ice into the freezer.

You look at him and smile a little to yourself, averting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.

Jeremiah rolls his eyes at his brother and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving just the two of you once more.

“Here, they’ve not melted yet,” Conrad pulls an ice pop from one of the boxes and unwraps it, handing it to you.

You set down your drink and take hold of the wooden stick. Now was your chance to get him back. You make sure you’re stood as close as you can get to him, your eyes gazing upwards to focus on his. And you stick out your tongue, drawing it from the bottom to the top of the cold ice, not once breaking eye contact with Conrad as you pop the top in between your lips and suck gently before pulling away.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, and find yourself hiding back a grin at your obvious effect on him.

“What’s wrong Connie?” You ask him through batted eyelashes, “You look all… flustered.”

It’s almost as if you see the second that the cogs turn in his brain as his hands stretch out to grip your waist, both tightening to lift you up and onto the kitchen counter behind you.

And then, without a second thought, his hand grips your face and he pulls you in to kiss him. It’s rushed at first and overly fueled by passion but you don’t care. He can taste the sweetness on your lips and it only seems to encourage him more, kissing you like he’d been waiting to do so for years. His hand tightens once more on your waist, pulling you into him as closely as he can as your hands grip onto his shoulders.

Conrad pulls away then, only breaking contact at your lips to catch his breath as his forehead rests against yours.

“Don’t tease me,” He grumbles quietly, his lips plump in the absence of you.

You chuckle a little, nudging his head a little more, “From what just happened there, maybe I should be teasing you more often.”

Conrad smirks and pulls away, standing up straight as both of his hands settle on either side of you on the counter. He glances behind you at where the large glass doors lead out to the garden, “You know, nobody’s actually in the house.”

You turn over your shoulder to catch a glimpse, “Yeah, looks like it’s just us.”

He takes the opportunity as you’re turned away to kiss at the exposed skin of your neck, his touch hotter than any weather was capable of.

You let out a quiet moan and grip the back of his head. Damn, he was good at this.

“Connie-“ You hum, pushing into him as closely as you can.

He smirks against you and pulls away, eyes widening slightly at the mark left on your skin from his lips.

“We should probably join the rest,” You comment, dragging your fingers through his hair.

He flutters his eyes closed at the contact and sighs, “Five more minutes.”

Conrad leans in to kiss you again but stops as he hears;

“Conrad! Can you bring the ice pops out?” It’s Stephen yelling to the pair of you.

You look at Conrad and laugh a little, hopping down from the countertop, “Come on, before they suspect anything.”

“I think that mark on your neck will make them suspect enough.”

You bend down to take the ice pop box from the freezer and reach one hand behind your head to untie your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders.

“There we go, it’s like it never happened,” You wiggle your eyebrows and saunter outside towards the garden.

Conrad watches as you go, a smile on his face before his eyes drop to the barely-touched ice pop you’d both discarded onto the counter.

Thank god for hot weather.

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card : Your Inner Goddess

"How would you behave if you knew you were a God or Goddess? How would you treat yourself, how would you treat others? What kind of consciousness would you hold about your smallest actions if you knew their effects influenced the rest of creation? If your awakenings could bring joy to the multitudes? What kind of mindfulness would that inspire?"

- Anodea Judith, Eastern Body, Western Mind: Psychology and the Chakra System as a Path to the Self

Within each woman there lies a Goddess. Within you there lies a force to be reckoned with.

She awaits the moment you find her and she awakes.

Take the messages with a grain of salt. First and foremost trust your intuition and your inner Goddess...

Within each pile you will find what your inner goddess craves, how you can service her and what's holding her back.

Pile 1

The Hierophant, The Sun, The Empress

Your inner Goddess is craving warmth and care. A daring little lady she is. She reminds me of P!nk in the music video of U+Ur Hand.

She is sitting pretty with her book and she is not easily impressed. Maybe because she can do EVERYTHING she puts her heart and soul into. Very wise and commanding, yet feminine and seductive.

Your inner Goddess wants you to realize that you deserve abundance and happiness. You need to work on your Solar Plexus. I get that I should also talk to you about your adrenals. You have been hustling for a long time and the Goddess wants you to sit your pretty booty down and take a moment to breathe and realize that you are right on time. Go get it panther!

Pile 2

The Fool, The Star

Wow. This is a very airy energy. Your inner Goddess is here to see and experience everything. She loves being vulnerable and wants to push you out of your comfort zone.

She dares to dream about a better future and she wants to tell you that if you don't dream it and belive it you mights as well not even try.

Just do it, she says, and dives straight out the cliff. She always manages to survive and those negative voices feel jealous that the "naive" Goddess makes the best decisions right on the spot. Trust your intuition and inner Wisdom.

Pile 3

3 Of Cups, The Star, 10 Of Swords, Queen Of Wands

I don't know why, but your inner Goddess gives me "black cat energy" or Scorpio energy. She is that seductive voice that whispers "do it now, analyze it later".

She is affectionate and loves a good foot rub. Your inner Goddess has been through it. She has been accompanying you for SEVERAL lifetimes and she could have been the black cat to your Cleopatra back in ancient Egypt.

I feel like we should not play around with this one cause she might whip us up. Lol. Your inner Goddess comes out during "playtime" if you know what I mean. Look at your Lilith cause she is a lot like that placement in your chart. Alien yet homely. She can be either a storm or a beautiful river. Beware, she scratches anyone that dares hurt you. Payback's a bitch, so is Mrs. Catwoman here.

P.S. Get that sexy leather bra and that rose tattoo. Tie up your man/woman and have fun ! xoxo.

Pile 4

4 Of Cups, The Chariot

Hello brat! No worries, we can all be brats sometimes *wink,wink*.

Little lady, your inner Goddess is FED UP. She is a go getter and she is done watching you be a pessimist. She wants you to get some fuel into this fire.

Your Venus sign can be indicative of what your inner Goddess is like. She is pretty private and this can indicate issues with how you express her energy. All in all, she comes up when you think of what makes you grateful ! Feed her!

[amirasainz]

I’m obsessed with this blog so much!!!

What about amira was bored and decided to bake the grid baked good, save to say they are more in love or adore her more

OK.. sooo.... the Pierre and Kika part turned kind of smutty (I loved writing it). I hope you enjoy reading and let me know if you have any requests.

-XoXo

I like you, have a cupcake🧁

It truly was a scene out of a fairytale. Amira, dressed in a beautiful green gown with matching makeup, carried a basket brimming with Ferrari cupcakes. Little did most people know that her true passion lay in baking.

With an exuberant grin, she entered the paddock and spotted Lewis and Fernando. Skipping over to them, she called out, “Lew-Lew, Nando. Guess what?” The two men exchanged grins, eagerly asking, “What?” Amira proudly presented her cupcakes: one adorned with a tiny racing helmet for Nando and another shaped like a car for Lewis. Their awe was palpable as they stared at her creations. “Go on, try them,” she urged, nervously playing with her hair.

After the first bite, the two world champions showered her with praise. With kisses on their cheeks, Amira sought out her other friends. Max, Key, and little P were next. P, with her innocent curiosity, asked, “Aunty Ami, what’s in your basket?” Amira replied, maintaining a serious tone, “Well, my lovely gato, this magical basket holds cupcakes for you, your Mama, and your Papa.”

Kelly and Max, overhearing the sweet exchange, approached. Max hugged Amira tightly, while Kelly planted a brief kiss on her forehead. As she distributed the cupcakes, they all savored the magical treats. Max leaned down to Penelope’s height and whispered, “At least one of your Mamas can bake.” making him share a meaningful glance with Kelly.

After a sweet goodbye and a promise for dinner this weekend Amira ran to Kika and Pierre. Before she could run too far, a pair of strong arms picked her up from the ground. She immediately realised who it was. "Pierre, let me down" she laughed. Kika and Pierre were giggling with her, immediately crowding her against the wall. The two of them really had no limit. After sharing two kisses with Kika and Pierre on the lips, because according to them this is how close friends greeted each other in France and Portugal, she told them a bit breathless about her creation. "Oh Babygirl, you are truly an angel" whispered Pierre in her ear while Kika slowly kissed her neck. Pierre took a bit of the cupcake cream, smeared it on Amiras lips and kissed it off of them. "Mmmmhhh, amazing" he whispered. He held the cupcakes up for Kika, who did the exact same thing. While Kika was cleaning Amira from any excess creme (kissing her breathless) Pierre brushed his hands over her body and kissed her temple.

Before the situation could escalate anymore, the little group got interrupted from Pierre team principal. "You know, babgirl. If you come over to us tonight, Pierre and I can show you the real way to use whipped cream in the bed" Kika said to her with a predatory glint in her eyes. "The real way?" asked Amira naively. "Ohh amour, we have a lot of learning to do."

Amira, having settled down from her playful escapade with Pierre and Kika, continued distributing cupcakes. As she encountered George, Alex, Lily, and Carmen, she offered each of them a sweet treat along with a warm hug, saying, “One for you.” Lily couldn’t help but exclaim, “This girl is too good for this world,” a sentiment echoed by the other three.

Amira followed the same approach when giving Oscar and Lando their cupcakes. However, the two papaya drivers weren’t willing to let her go so easily. They convinced her to play a round of Monopoly, which was really just an excuse to keep her company.

As for Carlos and Charles, after the race, they discovered picture-perfect cupcakes waiting in their drivers’ room. Attached were two heartfelt notes. If the two of them shed a few tears after reading Amira’s encouraging messages, well, that was their little secret.

[peachbottom]

Not Hungry

Authors Note: I actually kind of hate this but I spent some time on it so I might as well post it. I wrote this with a similar body type to mine in mind, though it can be pictured anyway you like it does hint at a midsize/chubby reader. Give me feedback if you feel like it. Much love xoxo

Summary: You are self conscious eating in front of people so you decide to wait until you get home to eat. But unfortunate weather has you stuck at Buckys apartment and he is determined to make sure you don’t go to sleep hungry.

Warnings: food, not eating, body image, insecurities, hints at mature themes, pet names, possibly disordered eating habits, barely edited, bad formatting (pls let me know if I missed any)

——————————————————————————

You and Bucky had been together for a little while now, about 6 months. You both agreed to take it slow due to your own situations.

You really did like Bucky, loved him even, but you still had your habits and behaviors that you used to mask your own anxieties.

For example, you don’t eat in front of people. Even Bucky, and not because you don’t trust him but because you get in your head.

You will eat food with him but never a full meal. Part of it is because you don’t want him to judge you for eating too much, too little, too fast, too slow, anything really. People have always had something to say about your body and appearance and you came up with this coping as a way to keep them from having more to judge.

It started in high school when girls would make comments that you eat too much or you always were hungry. That’s when you not only developed insecurities about your body but you’re eating as well. You would notice when you went out with friends they wouldn’t eat much and you didn’t want to be the one eating more than everyone else.

So whenever you were with Bucky he would always suggest getting food or having a snack. Who knew super soldiers that workout all the time eat so much. Your reaction to this was always say you’re not hungry, you ate before you came over, you didn’t feel good, you had a list of excuses. You never ate more than a couple bites or a small snack of anything. You would always wait to eat when you got home.

Thankfully your relationship was young and you were taking things slow, you had never spent more than a day together and never spent the night at each other’s places. That was until one night when it was quite stormy and dark.

…

You and Bucky were sitting in his apartment on his couch, you had your legs tucked under you and were snuggled up to his side, head on his chest, with his arm around you. You were very comfortable and very warm, your eyes started getting heavy and you felt truly at peace in his arms.

Bucky starts rubbing up and down your arm to get your attention, he turns his head away from the tv screen in front of you and looks down at your curled up form tucked into his side.

“Hey it’s getting kinda late, I would say maybe you would want to go home but I don’t like you going out in this weather. How would you feel about maybe staying the night?”

You reach out for your phone on the table in front of you to check the time. It’s 11pm and it’s storming out. Rain is coming down hard, wind whipping, and it’s freezing out, he has a point you don’t really want to go through the city in this weather at this time of night.

You think about what he said, about staying the night. It sounds so nice being able to fall asleep next to him, but you can’t help but think about the pain in your stomach. Your so hungry, and eating in front of him seems so embarrassing, especially to have to ask for food. You planned to just eat when you went home, when Buck had ordered food earlier he asked what you wanted you said you weren’t really hungry you had a late lunch. The truth was you were hungry and you forgot to eat before you came over, you figured it would be fine though because you could just wait until you got home. Now that won’t be until tomorrow morning.

“Yeah, I mean I would love to stay if it’s not too much of a hassle”

He smiles from ear to ear throwing his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“Oh yeah! I get my girl all night now”

You can’t help but laugh at his goofy reaction, he’s truly such a sweet soul. You are laying half in his lap as he gently kisses your head, turns you around and places you so your head is laying in his lap looking up at him.

“This is so exciting, this is our first time spending a night together. I’ll get you some clothes to change into and you can shower if you want, are you hungry because you haven’t eaten anything all day.”

You simply smile up at him as he softly tucks your hair behind your ear.

“I’m okay, I told you I had a late lunch. And im not ready to go to bed yet can we stay like this for a little longer”

Still playing with your hair and looking down at you with a sweet smile he responds. “I’d be happy to stay like this for the rest of our lives. But maybe you could eat something, even if you had a late lunch it’s been hours and i worry”

He moves his other hand to rest on your stomach, if he had tried to do that at the beginning of your relationship you would have freaked, but he’s showed you that he truly loves every part of you even the parts you are the most insecure about. You rest your hand over his on your belly to reassure him you are fine.

“I’m not hungry I’m fine.”

“But you don’t eat enough, I barely see you eat. Please just have at least a little bit for my peace of mind.”

Just as you go to open your mouth and speak you feel and hear your stomach make horrible noises as if screaming to take Bucky up on the offer of food. You just close your mouth and look away from Bucky feeling guilty for lying to his face and embarrassed for having your stomach be loud enough to drown out the television.

“Let’s go, come on im making you some dinner” He sits you up and stands in front of you with his hands out ready to take yours. You still can’t process what just happened, you are beyond embarrassed. So you look up stunned at not only his reaction but his persistence in wanting to care for you, you take both his hands and stand up.

He moves both your hands into one of his and walks you towards his kitchen island, where he pulls out a chair for you and motions for you to sit. He then rounds the counter and opens the fridge taking inventory.

“Okay so we could do spaghetti, Mac and cheese, a pb&j or a grilled cheese. Pick your poison baby” He lists off all the options and turns to look over his shoulder at you.

You look up from picking at your fingers and see him gazing back at you, waiting for an answer. “Umm whatever is easiest is fine, thank you” your response is quiet but he hears you and starts to take things out of the fridge.

As he makes you food he hums soft melodies of old songs from his childhood. Swiftly and easily moving throughout the kitchen without any hesitation or look of upset.

“Here you go doll, eat up please it’s made with extra love” he places the dish right in front of you and turns to grab you some water. On the plate in front of you is two grilled cheese sandwiches, cut into perfect triangles.

Bucky places water down next to you and then takes the seat beside you.

“Please eat” he says as he places a hand on your back rubbing up and down your spine.

“Why did you make me two, I don’t need that much.” You say in a slightly anxious way.

“Well because I didn’t know how much you wanted and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable to ask for more if you wanted it, that’s all. Just eat what you want and leave what you don’t, it’s not big deal.”

You look at your plate, you are really hungry and it looks so good. You pick up a half and take a bite, it’s just as good as it looked. But you can’t help but feel awkward just having him watch you eat. “Will you eat too, I feel weird eating alone”

“Of course you don’t have to ask me twice I’m always ready to eat” so he picks up another half and takes a bite.

You both sit and eat in silence for a minute until he places a hand on your knee and asks you a question. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were hungry, earlier or now? I feel like your never hungry, or at least that’s what you tell me. What’s the matter baby, tell me”

You swallow the grilled cheese and take a sip of water to wash it down before speaking.

“I don’t know I feel weird asking for food, I mean I feel weird eating in front of people in general especially you. Your so..you know all muscles and hotness and I’m squishy, I guess I just didn’t want you to judge me.”

The hand in your knee grips a little tighter, “Oh baby no don’t think like that. First of all I think your all curves and hotness so don’t ever think I’ll judge you for what you look like or eat. I love you so much and I don’t want you to feel like you have to go hungry while your with me because you think I’ll judge you for eating. It doesn’t make any sense to me baby, you need to eat that’s what keeps you alive and healthy and full of energy.”

“It’s not that I don’t eat, I just don’t like eating in front of people. Maybe you think I’ll eat too much or that I don’t eat all super healthy food. People can be really mean, and I think I just developed ways to stay safe from judgment.”

He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head, holding you close. “Oh honey, your always safe with me. You could tell me you wanted to eat six whole pizzas and I’d buy them for you, sit next to you and eat seven myself. You are never going to be judged by me, never I promise you. But you have to promise me that you will eat when your hungry because I worry. Can you do that?”

You lean back and look him in the eyes, nodding your head yes. “Yeah I can do that”

At this point you both finished your food and are ready to get settled in for the night. Bucky takes the dirty plate and puts it in the sink to take care of tomorrow.

You follow him to his room where he pulls out some clothes for you. He hands you a shirt and a pair of boxers then leads you to the bathroom.

“Here is all my shampoo and soapy stuff, and I there are some extra toothbrushes under the sink. Help yourself to whatever you need, and I’ll be just out there watching some tv.”

You offer him a warm smile and he leans in, grabs your jaw and places a soft kiss on your lips. He was such a good man and he did everything he could to make you comfortable. It’s like he was your saving grace ready to scrub away all the dirt and scuffs people had left on your shiny soul and bright heart. So that way he can show you how beautiful of a person you are under all the damage people have done.

While in the shower you can’t help but feel like a weight had been lifted off you after your conversation tonight. You know Bucky loves everything about you and it makes you feel like all the bad things people had ever said to you didn’t matter anymore. The one person that does matter is erasing all those negative things they ever planted in your mind.

You wash up and brush your teeth, then put on the clothes that Bucky let you borrow. The shirt hung loose over your body stopping just below your hips, the boxers were soft and comfortable.

You leave the bathroom and walk into the bedroom to see Bucky leaning back in the bed on his phone. He’s wearing a pair of shorts and no shirt, and boy does he look pretty.

“Did you have a nice shower doll?” He asks not looking your way, he then turns his head to look at you. “Oh don’t you look pretty in my clothes.”

You laugh and walk up to the edge of the bed, pull the blankets back and sit down. “Your crazy, James I swear”

“Oh first the clothes now calling me James, ughh you are doing something to me.”

You blush and look at him, both of you with goofy smiles on your face. You and him have never done anything like that before. (taking things slow, remember) So you knew he was mostly just trying to get you flustered, and it was working.

You both get fully under the blankets and snuggle up together, you being the little spoon. You were never a small girl but next to him you felt like it. It felt comfortable and safe, like you knew nothing bad could happen when he was by your side.

He rests his hand over yours on your stomach, giving it a slight rub. “Is your tummy nice and happy, she’s not hungry anymore?”

You laugh at his silly question but you know he’s serious and he really does care. “Yeah she’s good”

“Good, if my girl is happy then I’m happy. Good night my love sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams Bucky, I love you.”

That night you dreamt of grilled cheese, your sexy shirtless boyfriend and his caring heart. The best part is, when you wake up in the morning it’s all real and it’s all yours.

——————————————————————————

Masterlist

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: how about sweet Erling taking reader on a date in Norway? they’re not together but they’re dating, and that is the date when Erling decides to talk about his feelings. I didn’t have any particular setting in mind, just whipped Erling that likes to hold hands and kiss her forehead 🥹🥹 (anonymous)

Word Count: 694 words

(author's note: realised i misread the ask so i hope you still enjoy it + i kinda hate the ending, but i hope the erling fans enjoy anyway xoxo)

One thing Y/N loved about the end of the football season was returning to her boyfriend Erling’s family home in Norway. The rolling hills and scenic views instantly relaxed her and made her forget the stress of city life. 

The rising sun shone through the window in the couple's room. Erling awoke first, his eyes scanning over his girlfriend’s sleeping face. He smiled at the peacefulness that adorned her features. He always thought Y/N looked the best in the morning when she hadn’t yet been disturbed.

Y/N began to stir and opened her eyes slightly. 

“I can feel you staring,” she mumbled softly, “Creep.”

Erling laughed, “Not my fault you’re so gorgeous.”

He wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist and pulled her closer to him. Pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, Y/N brought her hands up to rub her eyes.

“Wanna take you out today,” Erling said, “We can go get a drink or something?”

“Okay, sounds good to me,” Y/N replied, “Anywhere specific in mind?”

He nodded, “There’s this coffee shop in town that I used to go to all the time. They have the best hot chocolate.”

After lazing in bed together for a little longer, the couple began to get ready. They took advantage of the slow morning and enjoyed the company of one another. When they were both ready, they pulled on their shoes and coats and headed out of the door.

Walking down the winding street, Erling gently grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and laced their fingers together. He squeezed her hand softly as they carried on down the path. They talked about anything and everything throughout their walk to the local town, laughing and joking like children.

As they pushed open the doors to the cafe, the barista looked up, and his face broke out into a smile.

“Erling, I haven’t seen you in forever! How are you?” He exclaimed, wiping his hands on his apron.

As the couple made their way over to the counter, Erling smiled back.

“Hey Alex, I’ve been good, how about you?” 

“Not too bad, who’s this?” The man asked, gesturing towards Y/N.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Alexander.”

Y/N smiled at him, “Lovely to meet you, Alex.”

“What can I get you guys?” Alex asked, moving towards the till.

“2 hot chocolates, please, extra cream,” Erling said.

Alex nodded and went to make the drinks. Y/N and Erling found an empty table and sat down. They resumed their conversation from earlier whilst waiting for their drinks.

Alex brought over the tray and placed them down, “Enjoy you two.”

Y/N brought the cup up to her lips and took a sip of the velvety liquid.

“You weren’t joking. This is incredible.”

Erling laughed, “I told you so, it’s still great after all these years.”

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying not only the drinks but also the company of each other.

“I love you,” Erling said after a while.

“Where’s that come from?”

“Bringing you to places I used to come as a kid just makes me realise how grateful I am to have found you.”

“I love you too, you big softie.”

The pair finished their drinks, said goodbye to Alex, and headed back outside. They took advantage of the calm weather and walked slowly through the streets of the town, hand in hand. 

They ended up in a park and found a bench in a secluded area. They sat down, and Erling wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. Pressing a kiss to the side of her head, he stared at the tranquil scene ahead of him.

“I didn’t realise how long we stayed out,” Erling commented, referring to the sun that had begun to dip lower in the sky.

“We can start walking back soon. It shouldn’t be too dark.”

Erling nodded, pulling his girlfriend closer to him. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She slipped her hand into his as they watched the sun set further.

[scoonsalicious]

Unsatisfied, Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: After game night, Bucky promised to ruin you come morning. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, Explicit Sexual Content: Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (FaceTime sex, hand stuff), Pocket still not being over her trauma, mentions of past injury.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hi, besties!

It's me, ya gurl, with Part 2 of the post-Unwanted one-shot that's become a three-shot, lol! I fucking missed the absolute hell out of these two, and I'm so happy to be back with them for a little bit. Writing for Pocket and her Bucky is just like... I don't know. It's like I'm not even making stuff up, just channeling it, because it comes so easily, unlike literally everything else I try to write. I can't say when I'm going to resume WFLT. To be perfectly candid, I might put it on extended hiatus while I work on other things that seem to come easier right now. I don't know yet. I just want to be up front with everyone.

Here's where my attentions are currently focused: Finishing Unsatisfied, an untitled collab with @mrsbuckybarnes1917, writing Hunted, and plotting Unbroken. For some reason, there is just a giant Gandalf standing between me and WFLT, waving his staff and shouting "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" I'll let you know when I whip him into the abyss. And yes, that does make me the Balrog in this scenario, and I, too, fall to my death in the depths of Moria. It's an imperfect analogy, okay? At least I'm not Sean Bean, dying all over the place.

Anyway, enjoy more Pocket and Bucky! I know I do! xoxo

“I miss you,” you moaned into the screen of your phone. Your voice sounded pitiful, even to your own ears, but you were lonely and you didn’t have the shame to hide it. Especially not from the man you were talking to.

“I miss you, too, sweets,” Bucky said with a dejected sigh that let you know your feelings of misery were mutual. “It shouldn’t be longer than a few more days, then I’ll come back home to ya, and we can pick up where we left off, yeah?”

You smiled and nodded eagerly, his promise setting your skin awash in goosebumps. ‘Where you’d left off’ had been finally, finally, coming back together after nearly twelve months of self-imposed celibacy, spending the first night together, in your new apartment, wrapped in each other’s arms, with his co—

“At least we got our bubble bath before things went fully to shit,” Bucky added, a smile playing on his lips from across the distance, as though he knew exactly where your thoughts had taken you.

“Yeah,” you sighed, remembering the feel of him, so warm and solid, against your back in the tub. After he’d kicked out your friends from the impromptu game night they’d decided to throw at your new place, and you’d gotten over your freakout when Sam had inadvertently joked about Bucky ‘cheating’ at a card game, the two of you had spent a much needed evening just in each other’s company. Intimacy, but not sex, the way your therapist had recommended, with Bucky promising to ruin you come daybreak. 

Instead, though, a call had come from Fury in the middle of the night. A group of terrorists, counting some several enhanced among them, had stolen a biological weapon and were threatening to decimate the population of Shanghai unless the Chinese government gave into their demands, and so, The Avengers, Bucky included, had been called away.

You’d offered to go, just so you could stay close to him. You’d never even leave the Quinjet, you’d promised, out of the action, but neither Bucky nor Tony was eager to see you back on the field, not after what had happened the last time. Even though you’d had your last reconstructive surgery months ago, and your doctors had given you the all clear, between your boyfriend and your pseudo-brother, you weren’t leaving New York anytime soon.

That had been over a week ago. Negotiations with the terrorists had not gone according to plan, and they were probably going to have to fight it out. And as for you? You were ready to climb the fucking walls.

“How’s wedding stuff going?” Bucky asked, referring to your role as Maid of Honor in Pepper and Tony’s upcoming nuptials. “Keeping you busy?”

“Don’t you dare try to change the subject, Barnes,” you practically growled at him. “I am so fucking desperate for your cock, I swear to god–”

From somewhere off camera, you could hear a cacophony of sound– a combination of Sam and Clint’s uproarious laughter and Tony shouting “JESUS CHRIST BARNES, USE YOUR FUCKING HEADPHONES!”

Bucky’s face had turned crimson in the video call, and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that came bubbling from you as he abruptly stood up and removed himself into a darker, quieter area.

“Shit,” he exhaled as he got himself re-situated in the new, hopefully more private, space. He ran a hand down his face in embarrassment. “Didn’t mean for them to hear all that, doll.”

You laughed as you twisted a strand of hair around your finger in the way you knew he liked. “What happened to your earbuds, baby?” you teased. 

Bucky reached up and pulled an airpod from his ear, looking at the small device as though it had personally offended him. “I thought they were on!” he exclaimed. “If I’d known I’d been broadcasting you for the whole fucking team to hear, I woulda gone somewhere a lot more private to begin with.”

“The whole team?” you asked, cautiously. You didn’t want to say any names, but you needed to know if he was there, too. If he’d heard you.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, catching your meaning and lowering his voice. “Rogers is here.”

You swallowed and nodded solemnly. You hadn’t spoken to Steve Rogers since he’d made his horrible confession to you in the hospital, of the ways he’d manipulated your life to keep you and Bucky apart. All culminating in Bucky’s betrayal, your temporary death, the loss of your unborn baby. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, thinking only of Bucky in the moment. It was easy for you to stay away from Steve, to ignore him– your anger toward him had far surpassed any level of fondness you’d once had for Captain America, but you knew how much harder it was for Bucky to break a bond of nearly a century. Not that you would have ever forbidden him from reconnecting with Steve, if that was what he had wanted. No, Bucky had decided on his own that some things couldn’t be forgiven. No matter how many decades of friendship might lie behind them.

“Yeah,” he sighed, though you could tell from the look in his eyes that it was harder for him than he was letting on. “It’s awkward, but if we keep it strictly to business, it’s manageable. It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck, and you wished so badly that you could be there to smooth the lines from his distraught face. “It’s just… sometimes he makes it hard to remember what he did.”

You nodded, feeling guilty that you were the reason the two were no longer friends. That Steve had betrayed Bucky because of his desire for you. 

“Don’t go blaming yourself, sweets,” Bucky chastised you knowingly. It was like he could read your mind. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a look. “I know how that pretty head works, doll, and I know you’re blaming yourself. Stop it. He made his own bed, now he gets to lie in it.”

“I know,” you lamented. “I just hate that you have to pay the emotional cost of his bad decisions, that’s all.”

Bucky frowned at you. “Just like I hate how you had to pay the costs for mine, doll,” he said softly. “Our actions have consequences. We have to live with them, so we don’t make the same fuck ups again.”

You subconsciously let your hand drift to your abdomen, your fingers delicately tracing over the scar that was the only external reminder that you’d been shot. Had technically been killed. Had lost a lot more than your life. You were grateful Bucky could only see you from the chest up.

“Well, this conversation took a turn,” you said, trying to get off of subjects you’d rather not dwell on. “Can we go back to talking about how fucking horny I am for you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and god, how it warmed your heart that you could still get that reaction out of him after everything you’d both gone through. His blue eyes seemed to darken as he adjusted himself in whatever seat he was in. “If it helps, I’m horny as hell for you, too, sweetheart.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth as he nodded his head. “Yeah, hearing that does help. Show me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened through the screen. “Show you?” he breathed, clearly not having anticipated where you were about to take the conversation. “What do you mean, ‘show you’, doll?”

“I mean,” you said, leaning back against the headboard to make yourself more comfortable, “show me that pretty cock of yours, Sergeant. Take it out. Stroke it for me. I wanna see what I’ve been missing.”

You watched as Bucky’s eyes went back and forth between the phone screen and the door that separated him from the rest of the team. You could tell from the way he was gnawing at his bottom lip that he was seriously debating it, but that he had some real reservations. “Doll,” he whispered, sounding scandalized, but excited, “they’re right outside. They’ll hear me.”

You smirked at the way he’d suddenly become shy. “I wanna hear you, Sarge,” you pleaded in a breathy whisper, and from the way he closed his eyes and moaned at your words, you knew he was so close to giving you what you wanted. “Come on, baby,” you cooed. “Can’t you show Pocket that pretty pink cock she’s been wanting so badly? Can’t I watch you choke it with your big hands while I imagine my mouth wrapped around it? Pozhaluysta, Soldat?”

“Fuck,” he muttered, and you knew you’d won when he hopped up from where he’d been sitting. Though you couldn’t see it from the way he was letting the phone dangle, you could hear him lock the door. “You know I can’t resist it when you speak Russian, doll,” he said as he sat back down, propping the phone and its camera up against something so that you could see his entire body stretched out before you. 

“YA rasschityval na eto, detka,” you said with a grin. I was counting on it, baby. You could see now that he was in a bedroom of what looked like a standard SHIELD safehouse. It was small– only one twin-sized bed, so you weren’t worried about anyone else barging in to need the space. 

“So, how do we do this?” he asked, and you could hear the nervousness mixed with excitement in his voice. It struck you that, throughout your relationship, and all the time you’d spent apart while one or the other was away on missions, the two of you had actually never done this before. Phone sex, yeah, but never on video, together. It was going to be new territory, and it thrilled you. 

“We?” you asked playfully, pretending you had no idea what he was talking about. 

Bucky looked at you sternly though the screen of your phone and you involuntarily shivered under his gaze. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to see that sweet, dripping cunt of yours tonight, doll. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. Got just a taste of it the other day, and it wasn’t nearly enough.”

Fuck, you could feel yourself dampen and your nipples harden just from his words alone, not to mention the memory of the brief moment on your terrace, before the movers had arrived, when he’d had his deliciously thick fingers pressed inside of you.

“Baby,” you moaned, not even realizing you were trailing your fingertips over the pebbled flesh of your breasts under your shirt, imagining his rough, calloused hands on you. 

“Take off your clothes, Pocket,” Bucky growled. He didn’t ask; it wasn’t a request. It was a command, and you were ready to obey. 

“Sir, yes sir, Sergeant,” you said, and you were sure you looked anything but graceful as you sped to pull your top over your head and shimmy out of the pair of cheeky panties you wore. The cool breeze of the air conditioning danced along your flushed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned, his eyes following the path your fingers traced along the contours of your body. You watched hungrily as he absentmindedly palmed himself through the Tac pants he still frustratingly donned. “God, you look even better‘n I remember, sweets,” he grunted. “Better than I’ve been imaginin’ all week. How the fuck’s that even possible?”

“Buck,” you warned, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his obviously false praise as you turned to hide your face from his gaze. “Stop. I know you don’t mean that.”

Frowning, Bucky leaned forward, picking up the phone so he could bring his face close to the camera, scrutinizing you. “Pocket,” he said, but you refused to look at him. “Pocket!” he tried again, his voice a little firmer, but still gentle. “Why the fuck would I not mean that, sweetheart? You’re gorgeous.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. It was kind of him to lie to spare your feelings, really, but you didn’t think you could take it. Not from him. Not after everything. Without thought, your hand moved to cover your bullet wound from his gaze. “Come on, Buck,” you said, your tone implying that you weren’t buying his bullshit, no matter how sweetly he was selling it, “we both know you weren’t imagining me with all these new scars.”

“Baby.” Bucky made a noise somewhere between a choked laugh and an incredulous groan. “You can’t seriously think I, of all fucking people, give a shit about a couple of tiny scars?” He put the phone down, and your view of him was obstructed for a moment while you heard the rustle of cloth. When he lifted it up again, you saw he had taken off his vest and Tac shirt. He pointed to the ruined skin of his left shoulder.

“Look at these and tell me you think I’m gonna be turned off by a coupla’ scars, Pocket,” he said, and you could detect the hard edge to his voice. 

“It’s different, Buck,” you told him, your voice cracking. “You already had those scars when we met; they were a part of the man I fell in love with. You…” you hastily wiped at the tear that was suddenly threatening to fall from your eye. “Mine… mine weren’t. You didn’t get a choice in them.”

You watched as the look on Bucky’s face morphed into one of pure confusion. Of course he didn’t fully understand– you weren’t just talking about scars, after all. He… just didn’t realize that yet.

“You didn’t have a choice in them, either, sweetheart,” he said softly, eying the way your hand protectively rested over your abdomen. “And if you’re talking about the scar from when you got shot… well, fuck, if that scar’s not my favorite thing.”

You looked at him in wide-eyed disbelief. “How could this… disgusting reminder…” you choked out, “of everything that happened last year… how could that be your favorite thing, Bucky?”

“That scar means you’re alive, doll,” he told her. “That you’re still breathing, still with me, in spite of all of it. So forgive me if I think that makes it the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled, his words momentarily taking away the sting of the inadequacy you’d felt ever since the doctors had told you about the extent of your condition. It wasn’t something you were purposefully keeping from Bucky… You had just been too terrified to say it out loud. You were going to tell him. Just not yet.

"Look at me Doll,” he said, getting your attention back onto his face, “I don't like that I have to tell you this at all, but I'm gonna do it, as many times as you need, as many times as it takes for you to believe me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

You felt your face soften, the tension of insecurity drop from your shoulders as he looked at you through the phone screen, eyes blue pools of adoration. You wanted so badly to just get lost in him, to let him consume you until you were capable of thinking of nothing but him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s something more than just the scar, isn’t it, sweets? You’ve never been ashamed of showing me your body before.” You weren’t vain as a rule, and Bucky knew this about you. You had other scars, worse ones. Uglier ones, but none had ever bothered you the way this one had. None had ever carried the same degree of psychological and emotional baggage. 

You just nodded, afraid that if you spoke, you’d reveal what you’d been keeping from him, blurt it out before you could stop yourself, and it was not the kind of thing you wanted to do over video with thousands of miles of distance between you.

“You don’t have to tell me, doll,” he said, the understanding in his voice so pure that it made you ache. “I know so many of my actions have hurt you; I get that there’s still some trust–”

“Baby, no,” you interrupted. “I trust you, I do. I want to tell you. I’m just… not ready yet.”

“Tell me what I can do for you right now, then, sweetheart,” he offered. He’d brought the phone close to his face, his gaze on you intense and burning through the screen. “What do you need?”

You exhaled, the sight of him so focused and sincere making your knees feel weak. “Just you, Buck,” you whispered, the words coming out in a breathy sigh. “I just want you.”

“I’m right here, doll.” His voice turned low, darker. A soft purr that vibrated your insides. “And I’ll be home with you real soon, but you gotta tell me what I can do for you right. now.”

You sucked in a shuddering gasp of air, indulging in the way his words swept over your body like a languid kiss. Without even thinking, you felt your hand drift down your abdomen, your fingertips dancing along the top of your thigh.

“Buck,” you found yourself whining as you squirmed your ass across the mattress, searching for any inch of friction you could find. 

“Yeah, baby,” he grunted, readjusting the camera so it was once again propped up and you could see the length of him pressing against the material of his tac-pants. “Tell Sergeant Barnes what you want so he can give it to you.”

A beat of silence passed between you before you both started laughing, your hand coming to cover your face as you suppressed a snort. “Oh my god, Barnes!” you wheezed.

“Yeah, that was awful,” he laughed, palming his face in embarrassment. “Did I kill it?”

You wiped away a stray tear that had leaked from your eye in your laughter. “You’re lucky I find your bad jokes to be such a fucking turn on,” you told him with a grin. 

Bucky frowned. “Wasn’t supposed to be a joke, doll,” he grumbled, a pout forming on his beautiful pink lips. “‘S supposed to be sexy.”

“Oh, I found it very sexy,” you assured him. “You make me laugh, Barnes. That’s the hottest fucking thing I can imagine. Now take off your pants.”

The look in Bucky’s eyes turned from playfully annoyed to seductively heated in the space of a nanosecond. He reached for the zipper of his tac-pants and you licked your lips at the sound of it coming undone. “Get the camera all set up, doll,” he said as he shimmied the pants down his legs. “I want to see every inch of you.”

With a grin, you propped your camera up between your legs, giving Bucky a front row seat to your dripping core. “This work for you, Sarge?” you asked.

“Fuck, sweets,” he began, palming at himself through his boxer-briefs. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“Show me,” you commanded him, bringing your fingers down to lightly trace the outer edges of your lower lips. “Show me how well this view works for you, baby.”

Bucky scrambled to pull his boxer briefs down to his thick thighs, and you watched with bated breath as his cock sprung free, its beautiful, pink tip already glistening with precum. Your entire body erupted in tingles at the sight of him. He was so fucking gorgeous, and he was yours.

“Jesus,” you hissed, bringing a hand to your breast and gently squeezing the flesh. You could feel your mouth thicken with saliva at just the idea of having him down your throat.

“Just Bucky’s fine, baby,” he teased as he grabbed a hold of himself, and you rolled your eyes. “No need to bring God into it.” Slowly, he began stroking his length. You watched in awe as he seemed to grow harder with every downward pull, the veins in his thighs bulging as he thrust his hips up against his hand. If anyone was going to be compared to God during sex, it would and should be Bucky Barnes.

“Touch that pretty clit for me, doll,” he grunted. “Pretend it’s my fingers on you, getting you all warmed up to take my cock.”

“Fuck, Buck,” you whimpered, your fingers moving frantically over your bundle of nerves. You were already soaked; just the sight of him had sent another wave of arousal gushing through you. “Want your dick in my pussy so bad, baby. So fucking bad, it hurts.”

“Soon, sweetheart,” he grunted, watching your fingers strum your clit with wild eyes. “I’ll be home soon, and I’ll fill you up so good, you won’t be able to walk normal for weeks.”

You arched your back and moaned, the memory of the way he stretched you as he entered you, opening you wider than any other man you’d ever had, flooded your mind. “Nothing fills me like you do, baby,” you panted. “Nothing hits me so deep.”

“Yeah?” he grunted, and you could hear the delicious slick, slick sound of his hand moving through the precum that soaked his shaft. “Not even those fancy toys you bought?”

Bucky chuckled when he noticed your eyes pop open and stare at him in surprise. “Oh, I know all about those, doll.” Slick, slick, slick. “Found ‘em when I was helping you pack for the move. All of them.”

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, and if you didn’t already have your hand on your pussy right in front of him, you might have been embarrassed. “All those toys, and none of them gets me off as good as you do, Buck,” you breathed. “None of them reach that spot the way you do.” It was true– it was the one thing you had desperately searched for during your time of Bad Decisions– someone to hit that place deep inside of you that set your every nerve ending on fire, that made you shiver and convulse with pleasure with each thrust. No one had ever brought on that full body climax that left you shaking and weak like Bucky had. 

“Fuck, doll,” he grunted. “No one touches your A-spot but me.”

“No,” you gasped. You loved how he knew your body so well, knew what he did to you, how you longed for his touch. “No one touches me like you, baby.” 

“Put your fingers in, sweets,” he commanded. “I wanna watch you fuck yourself on that pretty little hand while I pretend it’s my cock.”

You did as he asked, bringing two fingers to your weeping entrance and plunging them inside you. They would never feel as thick or go as deep as any part of Bucky, but for now, they were all you had, so you made the most of them, driving them in and out of your cunt with abandon. 

“Fuck…” you grunted as you felt the coil in your belly begin to tighten, sweat glistening off your brow. “Baby!”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky said between grunts of his own. “Tell me how good you feel.”

“So good, Buck,” you moaned. “So fucking good. Want you so bad, Bucky! So fucking bad!”

“I’m right there with you, doll,” he panted. “I’m so close. Gonna blow all over and imagine it’s inside that pretty pussy of yours. Gonna come home and bury myself in your cunt, sweets! Not gonna come out for days!”

“Oh shit, Bucky,” you cried, your release a hare's breath away. “Wanna cum with you, baby.” You curled your fingers inside of you, stroking your G-spot again, and again, trying to imagine it was his thick, calloused fingers inside of you. 

“Just a little longer, sweetheart.” Bucky was yanking at his member now, his pace quick and frantic. 

You felt yourself rising, clawing to the very edge of the precipice, but before you could hurl yourself over the edge, you accidentally hit your phone with your foot, sending it falling to the floor.

You scrambled for the phone. It had landed face-down in the dark, making it harder for you to find, but you followed the sounds of Bucky’s grunts and moans until you made contact. Turning the phone back over, you watched as Bucky, eyes screwed closed, reached his peak, ropes of cum erupting from the tip of his cock and landing across his stomach and hand. 

And, as surely as if someone had doused you with a bucket of water, the spell was broken. You were painfully reminded that he wasn’t there with you. He was half a world away, still out of your reach. 

You sniffled, and Bucky opened his eyes at the sound. “Sweetheart,” he began, his voice laced with concern, “what’s wrong? Did you cum?”

You hitched a breath, holding back a sob, and shook your head. “You’re not here, Buck,” you cried. “It’s not… I thought… I just want to be with you. I miss you so fucking much!” You knew you sounded petulant, like a child, but you were at your limit, truly. You wanted nothing more than to be back to normal with him. A better normal, even, now without the shadow of Carthage looming over you both.

“Oh, doll.” Bucky picked up his phone and brought it close to his face, his now flaccid cock out of frame. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Do you wanna try again? We can focus just on you. Make sure you get off nice and good.”

You shook your head, feeling the tears of frustration and longing slide down your cheeks. “No,” you 

whimpered. “I think… I think I just wanna go to sleep.”

Bucky frowned at you, the look in his eyes sorrowful. “I fucking hate that I’m too far away to help you, Pocket,” he said. “I can’t stand seeing you like this, knowing you’re hurting.”

“It’s just been so long, Buck,” you whispered to him as you buried yourself under the blankets of your bed. “I feel like every time we even try, something keeps getting in our way. What if it’s the universe, trying to tell us we shouldn’t be getting back together?”

Bucky sighed, thick and heavy. “I know you don’t believe that, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s just been some bad timing; we got out of our groove, is all. I promise, things will go back to the way they were. The way they’re supposed to be.”

Not long ago, you told him that his promises didn’t mean shit to you, but now… now, you wanted to believe him more than anything.

“It’s just a little longer,” he clarified.  You nodded, swallowing down any remaining tears that threatened to fall. You wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him, but the part of you that had been irrevocably broken when he’d hurt you couldn’t help but whisper that, maybe, in some way, he’d always leave you unsatisfied.

<- Part 1 / Part 3 ->

[scorpioriesling]

Heyy, I just saw your Prompt Request Masterlist. As I scrolled down there I haven't seen one with Cassian yet.

I wondered if you'd like to write a Cassian X reader with 35 + 37 + 41 ? Pretty please?💕💕

Thank you so much for all the lovely content, can't wait to read more from you✨

Sing To Me

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing: Cassian x Siren!Reader

Warning(s): mentions of blood / war

Summary: Your escape turns out to be more than you ever could've imagined. Leaving behind your old habitat didn't necissarily mean leaving old habits; what will happen when you put them to the test in order to save a gorgeous bat-in-need?

SR's Note: I'm so excited for this ask -- and you have to follow my tangent here, alright. I know this concept is a little funky maybe, but I hope you enjoy it and how it ends! I had a blast writing it for you. This uses prompts #35, #37, and #41 from my masterlist! xoxo Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Love was never easy. You knew that, in your long life of 478 years. You'd come to accept that over time, you may never fully experience life the way you'd dreamed you would -- you were destined, doomed to the worst fate in Prythian. A fate not many would ever understand.

Until you'd met him.

Another bitterly cold day under the water in the bog, the near pitch-blackness of it impossible to see through to the naked fae eye.

Good thing you weren't fae.

The other sirens swam about, but the heat of their bodies didn't provide any comfort as chatter of the looming war chilled your blood to the core. The others spoke as though this was a mere form of entertainment -- but not you. You found it hard to relate to others of your kind, ever longing to look like the beautiful mermaids and water wraiths that dwelled in the glittering waters of the courts. But, you were bound to this bottomless, dirty, dark pit for eternity.

When the war had finally begun, you knew it was a chance to escape. This, you decided, would be your way out.

You'd followed the stream, tail whipping violently through the murky waters for what felt like days on end. You didn't stop, even if it meant taking a slower pace at times. You left your belongings, only sparing the necessary healing items you may need.

If you were swimming into battle, you'd surely find those in handy.

After ages upon ages, the water began to thin, the dark, muddiness of it fading away as chrystalline waters beckoned for promise ahead. Even halfway between the dank water and the clear blue of the ocean, you'd found it hard to adjust your eyes to the blinding light from above. You were more adapted to the cloudy skies of the bog whenever you felt corageous enough to break the surface of your home lagoon, but this... this was so clear and vast that it took effort to adjust to the change.

When all of the filth had subsided, you noticed a few dark tendrils floating alongside you. They shone beautifully in the light, the sun reflecting upon them, framing each hilight and contour. Your hair. It was beautiful, the muck washing away with each movement of your head.

Gods, it'd been ages since you'd seen a mirror. The broken glass you'd kept didn't work too well in those murky waters.

Looking down, you decided you were quite alluring. The black pearls that stretched over your shoulders, covering most of your breasts only accentuated your moon-white skin. The feathery, ink-black tail that powerfully bobbed behind you... you understood now, why sirens were the ones that could call to any male and get an answer, not mermaids.

The water was glinting with sunlight, but as you kept swimming, you noticed odd shapes floating within. First, a trunk floated by. Then, a few red fruits bobbed along as you continued on your way, gripping your black fishnet bag tightly.

You finally understood the reasoning for the odd objects as you continued your trek.

Pieces of splintered wood cascaded around you, one piece pricking your finger when you reached out to grasp it. Ouch. But more than that, the water was rather... disturbed, ahead. Splashing from the surface indicated as much, and with every stride closer, you could hear roaring, voices, screams-

Splash!

All of a sudden, an anchor was being lowered just in front of you. The heavy iron had your eyes wide as it sank to the ocean floor, and peering up at the surface, you saw more than just the sunlight casting glow after glow throughout the water.

More items began breaking the surface, sinking heavily all around you. First, a bed. Then, random broken bits of china that looked as sharp as the wood. No touching.

A body.

Two.

Blood everywhere.

Your pupils dilated, the scent of blood filling your nose as male after male drifted along, blood pouring from them in delicious crimson waves. The sight was mouth-watering, the lurch in your stomach almost too much as you realize you hadn't feasted in days-

No. That wasn't why you'd come. You came to help, to change your ways -- eating those you'd hoped would accept you wouldn't do you any good. Though they were already dead...

You violently shook your head, longing to clear your mind from the insatiable, hungry, ravenous plaguing thoughts. Loud echoing sounded from above, almost lous enough to hurt your ears. You winced, drawing closer and closer to the surface.

Sploosh!

You rear back, your hands flailing wildly to avoid the sinking ship before you. The flags pulled in water with their wake, threatening to tangle you up and drown you had you not swam away. The wood of the ship's architecture cracked, sinking under it's own weight slowly. You would make out the gold lettering on the side as it fell.

N.

ES.

T.

A.

Hmm.

You swam above it, watching as the Nesta fell slowly, the large explosions above the water pinching your eardrums. You closed your eyes hard, bracing for the shock, waiting to break the surface-

Your eyes flew wide as you gasped for air, your lungs filling with smoke. The scent, the air, all of it; you choked, couching and wheezing as you treaded to keep upright. When you finally cleared your lungs, you looked around, really looked. So many ships, so many warriors on them, so many-

Bang!

Another explosion sent a ship up in flames, and you crossed your arms before your face to sheild from the blinding light. Screams all around, so much pain...

"Cassian!"

You heard the screaming before you saw him. A bird, a bat -- he fell from the sky, large wings crumpling and broken as he headed for the water. You knew this was it. You had to go, you had to go now.

You couldn't swim fast enough and watched as his body cascaded into the water before you. Too far. He was too far. You swam faster, coming to the surface to look for him. Surely, he'd fallen near here? You couldn't miss an enormous pair of wings, but... no matter where you looked, you only saw broken bodies and shattered wood. No him, anywhere.

You dorve underneath the surface once more to continue swimming, but that's when you spotted it -- those mangled, shredded wings drifting delicately in the water. You frantically swam to him, reaching to grab him, help him, but he fell out of reach.

He was sinking.

There was no way you'd get him back to his ship, you couldn't even leave the water; and he was too heavy.

You wrapped your arms beneath his shoulders, wrapping tight before kicking your tail with all your might in an attempt to bring you both back to the surface. It worked, a little. You slowly made your way up, his wings as fragile as a jellyfish tentacles. You made sure not to touch them.

When you finally broke the surface once more, you gasped, hauling him over a flat piece of wood and turning his face to yours. Gods, he was glorious. Your hand searched for his heart, a pulse to reassure you he wasn't dead -- you found nothing.

Panic set in, and you racked your brain for what to do in a situation like this one. You weren't used to healing or helping the fae -- usually, you would simply lure them in and have them for dinner.

Healing. That's what you needed to do.

A tidal wave almost pushed him off the wood, but you clung to him in an attempt to keep him grounded upon it. Thinking quickly, you shoved the mass, steady enough to keep him afloat but quickly to avoid being seen, avoid any more destruction. Land, you'd thought. He needed a stable place to rest, for you to work -- the shoreline.

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"Cauldron damned, you better be worth saving."

You grumbled as you hauled him ashore, as far out of the water that you could reach without completely exiting it. It took massive, exhausting effort to get him here, but the deserted coast would be perfect for your attempt to revive him.

You slung your bag off your shoulder, the action slashing wet sand onto his cheek. You grimaced, reaching out to brush the wet sediment off. Your fingers lingered only for a moment as you stared, his handsomely carved features stunning you.

Heal him.

Right.

As you began digging in your bag, a strangled cough sounded beside you. Your eyes fixated on him as his chest heaved, a more sound cough echoing in his throat. He kept going, coughing, gasping, reaching for air-

Then he slowly opened his eyes. The milky chocolate brown orbs roamed wildly, first taking in the sky, then double-taking when he saw you.

"H....Holy SHIT!" He shouted, frantically pushing up onto his elbows and staggering backward. You flinched, a little afraid something like this would happen. His chest heaved wildly, his wings attempting to flare but only resulting in a pained groan and a hand on his ribs.

"It... it isn't good to move around in your condition," You offer, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes tracked the movement, growing wider and wider at the touch.

"What are you... who are you?" He asks, his hand still bracing his side.

"I'm... here to help you," you say, and his face contorts in pain.

"What?"

"Lie back down." You say, pushing lightly on his shoulder. To your surprise, he doesn't argue, but simply lies on his back, groaning with the movement. You move close again, leaning over him to get a good look.

"I... I think I can help, with your wings," you say. His nostrils flare as pain crashes through him again and again.

"Why." He asks lowly. Your brows knit.

"Why... why what?" You ask, reaching for the seaweed salve you'd brought. You extemd a hand to apply it, and he jerks backward, his steely glare holding yours.

"Why are you helping me." He grits out. "Why are you?"

"Y/N, is my name." You say, and he looks you up and down, at the tail curling into the water behind you.

"And you're... a, what? Healer? Mermaid?" He quizzes.

You sigh heavily. "Something like that."

He sits straighter, his gaze softening only slightly. "How do I know you're not working for Hybern?"

You knit your brows again. "High Who?"

He reads your expression, the corner of his lips tilting upwards. "Nevermind," he says, scootching closer. "You said, you have something to make it," he winces in pain again. "Better?"

You nod, showing him your balm. "Yes I do," you say. He sighs, contemplating his choice. Finally, shaking his head, he extends his wing to you slightly.

You press your fingers to his wing, near the tip of it and run them along the spine gently. Turns out, his wings are not feathery -- they're quite leathery. Strong.

He groans in pain again, and you gulp as you scoot closer, your hip touching his in the sand.

"What is your name?" You ask politely. He glances to you, and you suck in a breath. Gorgeous.

"Cassian," he answers, and you trail your fingers lower, brushing the weeds closer to the base of his wings. He continues to flinch in pain, and you try your best to distract him.

"From?"

"The Night Court." You nod solemnly.

"I've heard of it. The Cursebreaker; the High Lady, she dwells there." He nods, chuckling a bit.

"She sure does."

It's quiet for only a moment as you reach for the wing on the other side, not quite finding it with your fingers.

"And you?" He asks. His eyes meet yours, and you realize how close you'd become to his lips. So... decadent, practically begging to be chewed-

"Where do you dwell?" He asks. You shake your head lightly, repositioning to sit on his leg to better reach the other wing.

"I'm from... a few places." You settle on, and he shakes his head slowly.

"So mysterious. A pretty, dark-tailed lady comes to my rescue, and won't even tell me where she's from?" You blush, his kind words to foreign to your ears. He thought you were pretty.

"Well.. uh, why thank you." You blubber. He chuckles, his straight white teeth gleaming in the setting sun. Your pupils begin to dilate.

"What would help you relax?" You ask, adjusting your position but only slipping right onto his lap. His large hands grasp your exposed waist, steadying you but not your racing heart. And... mind.

"Well, my best friend's mother used to sing to me when I was young and in need of comfort," he suggests. "Always calmed me down."

Sing. Gods, this was going horribly.

"I... can't sing." You lied. His hands held firm as you continued to work the balm across his wing, and you couldn't help but feel flustered.

"Oh, neither could Rhys' mom," he huffed a laugh. "I promise I won't judge, even if it really is bad," he shrugs, his deep eyes peering into yours.

You gulped. Maybe, if you sang with no ill-intent, you wouldn't seduce him? He wouldn't fall into your gift-given trap, as all the other males did?

"Well, singing you shall have then, Cassian." You cleared your throat, and he looked up at you with a small smile. You began your song, singing with more love and affection than hunger and desire. You could only hope he would respond well.

You hadn't realized your eyes drifted closed until the end of your tune, and you opened them slowly to look to your new companion.

"That. Was. Beautiful." His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands pulling you closer to him. You squeaked, gripping his shoulder for stability.

"No, I-"

"Y/N," he said, his voice more gravelly and low than before. "You absolutely can sing. You're a good singer." He smiled lazily. Great. Your attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt didn't work.

"Thank you," you responded, scooping the last of the salve from the tin to spread over his wings. When you went to rub it on, he moved it out of reach. Your brows knit, and you looked at him to see a playful smirk on his face.

You reached again, only for him to move back at the last second. You scowled softly, turning your attention to his face once more.

"Cassian." You warned, and he chuckled brightly at you.

"You gotta... be quicker... than me," he drawled, his hands rubbing up and down the exposed skin on your waist. You lunged for his wing, almost getting it before he reared back again.

"Cassian!" You reprimanded. "Do you want me to heal you or not?" You said sternly. He only howled, laughing and smiling happily while looking up at you.

"Ahh, Y/N," he sighed. "You're cute when you're angry."

You rolled your eyes, but the blush in your cheeks told a different story. His fingers trailed up, brushing against the skin of your shoulders as he looked longingly, lustfully at you.

"You know... actually, we would make a really cute couple," he chuckled again, and you shook your head at his nonsense as you attempted to move from his lap. His rather... hardening, lap.

This was not good.

"Cassian, come on, let's get you into the shade so you can sleep this off, okay?" You said kindly. His fingers traced along your jawline, brushing a piece of damp hair behind your ear.

"I will... if you admit you're a good singer." He smiles cheekily.

You groan. "Ughhh, Cassian, please, will you just shut up and-"

"Kiss me already." He whispers, his gaze fully entranced on you. His pulse was prevalent, his neck vein throbbing as he leaned closer. He looked so damn delicious, you could almost take a bite-

You gently caress his face, pressing his lips to yours. Your insides knot, the hungry feeling rising as he moves his lips against yours. You almost break when his tongue slides against your bottom lip, but keep it together enough to pull away. His pupils are almost as blown wide as yours.

"Y/N-" he groans.

"We need to get you to the shade," you insist.

"I wanna kiss you again," he whines. A small smile plays on your lips at his words.

"Soon," you say, kissing his temple.

As soon as you sleep this spell off, anyway.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

[roguehongsami]

Cult Leader.

—★ pairing/s: professor!hongjoong x fem!student

—★ genre/s: slow burn, fluff, smut, au

—★ synopsis: the struggle between freedom & autonomy, and routine in a relationship leaves you at crossroads. hongjoong waits at the end of one road w. his heart on his sleeve, hoping you eventually make the turn.

—★ content: teacher-student (late & early 20s, consensual), toys, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (condomize), mirror sex, creampie, cockwarming, breast play, overstimulation, spanking, degradation, praise.

—★ word count: 7.8k

—★ author's note: read cs to avoid confusion. story is focused on aaliyah from cs. her name is now Y/N, and Y/N from cs is now solana. have fun w. both perspectives. also, thank you for interacting w. my last story. it got 10x the traffic i was expecting. your support doesn't go unnoticed. xoxo.

* DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FICTIONAL. IT IS NOT A REPRESENTATION OF KIM HONGJOONG'S CHARACTER, PERSONALITY OR BEHAVIOUR. THIS IS SOLELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. *

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ lana del rey // cult leader

Solana had not been answering Y/N's calls. All of her attempts would go to voicemail after a few rings. The show was about to start and Solana was nowhere in sight. Not knowing what to do next, she started making her way through the crowd. Her best option was to go home at that point. The show was Solana's idea yet she was late for it. Frustrating doesn't even begin to cover it. She felt a hand grab her wrist. Startled, she whipped her head around and came face-to-face with the culprit.

Her eyes wide, she said, "Professor Kim?"

"What are you doing here?" he wore a beautiful smile.

"I came here for the show." Y/N said, matter-of-factly. "And maybe to get drunk." she admitted shamefully.

Hongjoong released her hand and pocketed his hands in his jeans. He smirked. "Aren't you supposed to be prepping for Yunho's test tomorrow?"

"Yes and no." she shrugged nonchalantly. "I already understand time signatures. And the test isn't until three o'clock."

"Did you come alone?"

"Well, I was supposed to be here with Solana but she's not answering my calls. I think she got held up at her drum lessons." she sighed, unable to hide her disappointment.

Hongjoong pondered on his thoughts before he let out, "Instead of ditching the show, why not keep each other company?"

Y/N chewed on her lower lip, uncertain if that would be a wise move. As much as she would've loved to spend time with Hongjoong, the last thing she wanted was to incur the wrath of the school committee. She only had one semester left but let's be honest, it was never in her nature to play by the book. Challenging authority and taking risks had always been her hallmark.

She accepted Hongjoong's offer, weaving their way through the crowd that was growing by the minute. He led them to a pub table with two chairs. A waitress took their drink orders and came back with a mai-tai for Y/N, and a beer for Hongjoong.

"I never pegged you for a Molchat Doma fan." Hongjoong took a swig of his beer.

She took a sip of drink. "Somebody said something similar when I went to a Selofan show in April." she chuckled lightly. "I don't look the part."

"To be fair, you wear a lot of yellow." he pulled his face jokingly. "Doesn't really scream 'goth', now does it?"

She fake gasped with her hand over her chest. "I just don't wanna box myself. Is that a crime?"

"No, it is not. And frankly, I admire your refusal to be bound by rules."

"So what's the story behind the split dye?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and gave the most charming smile. She could feel her heart skip a beat. If there was anybody who could capture Y/N's undivided attention, it was Hongjoong. Although it never seemed so, Y/N thought a lot about her professor. Hongjoong had the entire student body wrapped around his finger; girls wanted him and boys wanted to be him. The man's charisma was incomprehensible and his word was rule. He knew how far his influence could stretch but Y/N, she never gave him that satisfaction.

For every swoon, she snickered. Every compliment was met with a scoff.

Hongjoong reminded Y/N of everything she was. Even with the very little interaction they shared, he could read her like a book. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, his lack of consideration for rules... He was her. Her nonchalance was merely a method of deflection. She was smitten. Hongjoong was well aware and he enjoyed indirectly pushing her buttons. This game of cat-and-mouse was just a subtle way to communicate with one another.

"I wanted to try something new. Something that could get everyone's attention." he smirked.

"Was the red not enough?" she rolled her eyes.

"The red never got your attention." he coaxed her.

Not expecting that response, Y/N's drink went down the wrong pipe and she choked. She regained her composure and mumbled, "Well played, Joong."

Hongjoong boasted. He had finally managed to crack her armour. His efforts were getting recognised but if Y/N was truly anything like him, she was going to make him sweat. And he was in it for the long run. It was the first chase he was fully going to commit himself to. He wanted her, and he was willing to work for her. "Desperation" was not the word, no. With a legion of girls who were dying to be bedded by the Kim Hongjoong, it was the girl with a stone in the place of her heart whom he desired. He was motivated.

As the night progressed, the pair exchanged more words than they ever had in during the year. Bartender was placing drinks on their table every hour. The background music fell away, both forgetting that they came for the very thing they were ignoring. The number of people began dwindling as soon as Molchat Doma finished their set. A few local bands came on but nobody was really attentive. It was 23:30 and the club was closing. Hongjoong paid for their drinks. They made their way outside, still chatting about. He drove her back home and watched as she entered her apartment complex, before taking himself back home.

"Y/N, can I borrow you for a sec?" Professor Jeong Yunho called out to Y/N as she was stepping out the door.

She backtracked and went to Yunho's desk. "Yes?"

"Do you have any idea why Solana's isn't attending my class?" his eyebrows creased.

"She won't tell me either. And I won't force her to." Y/N sucked her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you want an answer, just get her in a very public space. She hates getting cornered."

Yunho laid back in his chair and put his arms on the armrest. "Like after class?"

"No. 'Cause then she'll make up an excuse about needing to get to another class. The mixer next week, she'll be there."

"Thank you, Y/N. I'm starting a new chapter and she's going to fall behind." Yunho grabbed a paper on his desk and handed it to Y/N. "Monday's test results. Get it to her, please?"

As she walked down the hallway about to journey back to her complex, Lecture Hall 1117 — Guitar. Her hand hovered over the handle, unsure of her own actions. She pulled it down and slowly opened the door. As her eyes scanned the empty hall, different types of guitars stacked at the very back, Hongjoong's eyes landed on her frame with his eyebrows arched. An unexpected surprise. He had not spoken to Y/N since the show, and they had barely exchanged any words in class either.

Slowly entering the classroom, holding Hongjoong's gaze, she locked the door behind her. He turned around in his chair and set his pen on the table, seizing with grading papers. She stood awkwardly at the door, toying with her fingers like a little child. As terrified as she was, she was ready to start making an effort with Hongjoong.

That'll be freedom and a half.

"Thought you'd be gone by now." she spelled, her voice meek.

"Wanted to get some work done first." a shit-eating grin materialised across his face.

He sensed how uneasy she was, as if she had just admitted defeat. As much as he would have loved to revel in the situation, he was not about rub it in her face and ruin whatever chances he had with her.

He opened his arms and motioned for her to come to him. "Come here."

She remained planted in her place at the door.

"No funny business, I promise. Just come here." She moved into his embrace. He positioned her on his lap and begun rubbing circles on her back. Her head laid in the crook of his shoulder. She couldn't help but purr under his touch.

"Are we finally making progress?" he asked as he picked up his pen and continued grading papers.

"A little bit." her head still buried in his shoulder.

"A little bit." he parrotted. "You wouldn't even look at me in the first semester, so I'll take what I can get." he chuckled lightly, which prompted Y/N to reciprocate the gesture.

On the outskirts of the city, Hongjoong had his car parked on the side of a road near a field. The skies were gloomy, clouds a deep grey and a light breeze that made the grass sway. Y/N sat between Hongjoong's legs, with him leaning against the door, as they watched outside. He had his arms wrapped over her shoulders, chin rested on the top of her head.

"You really love the seventies, don't you?" she spoke softly.

"The clothes, the cars, the music. There's a flair to that decade that's just... special."

"'The freedom land of the seventies'." she slipped out of his hold and sat up, turning around to face him. "I'd always hear stories from my grandma from then."

His eyebrows creased in the middle. "Like what?"

"She was a free-loving hippie then, flowers in the hair and everything. Before she left the States, she got to see Jimi and Janis at Woodstock."

"You're lying, right?" he gave her a suspecting look.

"On the day Janis performed, she met a man named Graham. They were glued at the hip the whole weekend. Eventually they started dating."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Hongjoong chuckled.

Y/N gave him a blank stare, biting on the inside of her cheek. "Graham... was a cult leader. When they dated, grandma joined his cult. She never left his side. He could convince her to do anything."

Hongjoong sat upright and watched Y/N intensely, waiting for her to say she was lying.

"But Graham died in seventy-eight."

"What happened to the cult after he died?"

"It just dissipated, grandma was devastated. She loved him, no man has ever measured up to Graham in her eyes. Everyone thinks she's just a senile old woman with raging dementia but I don't." she leaned back on the seat, laying her head on the headrest. "She said it was the best time of her life. Always encouraging me to find my own freedom. She wants me to live." she turned her head to face Hongjoong. "'Lay down, my child'. Something Graham used to say to her."

"How does your grandpa feel about her loving Graham that much?"

"Probably tooting his own horn." A mischievous smile spread across her face, unable to mask her amusement. "Graham is my granddad."

Hongjoong was too dumbfounded to gather the words to speak. He stared at her blankly and all she could do was keep smiling. They sat in silence for a few moments, holding each other's gaze. Hongjoong fixed his posture and planted his feet on the floor. He cupped her face. She held his wrists, looking at him through her lashes. She gulped to ease the anxiety creeping in. The atmosphere suddenly became heavy, all that could be heard was their breathing.

"Everyone either wants to be you or be with you. Your personal 'yes-men'. They're so desperate for your approval, for you. It's very..." she broke the silence, their lips grazing.

"Cult-like?" he let go of her face and held her hands. A smirk breaking out. "Do I make you feel free?"

She nodded in agreement. "I think our little back and forth is freeing. You don't rush me." her voice was faint. She dropped her head, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"It took an entire semester to get you to talk to me, acknowledge me. I can wait a while longer."

"I just need you to hold my hand until I'm ready. I don't think you'd ever stifle my freewill but I need to be sure."

He pressed his lips to hers. She happily obliged. He snaked his arms around her waist, hoisting her up to his lap. Her hand was pressed against the window, the other slinked over his shoulder. Their breathing picked up, body temperature slowly rising. He slid his hands under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine. His lips moved down to her neck, nipping at the skin.

A downpour struck down on Hongjoong's car, jolting them out of their little bubble. As he kept tracing kisses and bites on her neck and shoulders, she was distracted by the droplets on the window. Her fingers following the drops sliding down. She broke away from Hongjoong. His eyebrows creased, confused. She opened the door and stepped out. The rain smacking against her skin.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Hongjoong asked as he slid to the door.

He grabbed her wrist and she looked down on him while he sat in the car. "I don't know."

She ran off into the field until she reached the very center. Her head cocked up to the sky, eyes closed. Rain washed down her face. Her shirt became translucent, sticking to her skin. Her entire body was drenched. She spread her arms out.

"I did everything I wanted. I lived. I loved. And now it's your turn."

"But I don't know how..."

"Yes, you do. You're just scared, that's it." she handed her a bowl of snacks. "As for love, you'll know when you've found the one. He'll be there no matter what."

Spin. Spin. Spin.

She recalled a conversation she had with her grandmother. Her words rang true. There was fluttering in her stomach. But sometimes those butterflies could be warning signs. Unsure which it was. Harbingers of a beautiful something or an awful auspice.

Hongjoong snuck up on her as she was so engrossed with what was in her head. He grabbed her waist and held her hand in his. He spun her around once more, with one knee bent, he dipped her. They held their position a few seconds before he reeled her back in and held her. She rested her hands around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Soon you'll realise that you can have me without sacrifice. And I'll be right here when you do."

Most students had already taken their place in the hall. Some were in the back getting their guitars of the rack. Y/N was tuning her guitar, readying herself for the day's lesson. She was feeling a bit under the weather that day; her face was flushed and nose congested, an occasional sneeze into her sweater sleeve. Her little liberty expedition into the rain had left her with a parting gift; a cold.

Once all the students were seated, Hongjoong began his lesson. He paced up and down in front of the students, asking questions about various scales. The class was engaged in the lesson but Y/N, not so much. Her cold medication had put her in her a state of delirium. She could barely keep her eyes open.

"I put you into groups of three last time and assigned you solos to analyse. Get to it." Hongjoong spoke authoritatively as he sat in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

Y/N rummaged in her tote bag, the little device hiding from her, then pulled forth a small device the size of her hand. She plugged the amPlug into her guitar. The headphones that hung around her neck were pulled over her head and covered her ears. She plugged the wired headphones into the amPlug.

Kathy brought her hand up over her head, waving, which got Hongjoong's attention. Diverting his attention from his phone screen to an eager Kathy, he sighed.

"Kathy?" his tone low and uninterested.

She twirled her hair in her fingers, giggling with her friends upfront the class. "So... mister Kim, do you like... have a girlfriend?"

Kathy had never shied away from making passes at Hongjoong. She had always been shamelessly vocal about her desire to get with him. Half the student body knew and even the faculty caught wind. It played off more as a joke to everyone, but not Kathy. Not Kathy.

Hongjoong never held any animosity towards anyone. He got along with everyone, always as respectful as he could be. Thing is, he also had one hell of a reputation for flirtatious behaviour. Albeit with no intention to follow through with something more, he'd either wink at students or mindfully caress the female staff just to get a reaction out of them. He loved the influence he had over everyone. It was all a game to him.

Half the class was taken aback by the question, feeling as if it was a bit intrusive. The other half were more engrossed by the assessment that was due. Y/N held her head up, curious to what his answer might be. Hongjoong smirked, standing up from his chair. He strolled to Kathy and stood in front of her, arm slinked over the music stand.

"Why Kathy, do you want a date?" Hongjoong smiled with a wave of confidence washing over him.

Kathy playfully rolled her eyes and giggled some more. "I mean-"

Hongjoong briefly glanced at Y/N. "I flirt a lot but I don't do students. And I'm not on the market." he said arrogantly, shooting her a wink.

Embarrassment washed over Kathy as she sunk into her seat. Hongjoong pat her on the shoulder, then pocketed his hands into his slacks. He took a few laps around the hall, as his students spoke amongst themselves. Y/N put her headphones over her ears and began strumming. She felt a sense of relief hearing Hongjoong's response, but couldn't help think a part of what he said may have been a silent jab at her. Setting aside her thoughts, she focused on her playing.

Solana tapped Y/N on her shoulder, bringing her out her bubble of notes and chords, and pushed the headphones behind her ears.

"I need a pick, I think I lost mine."

Y/N took out a small metal container from her tote bag. "What kind do you use?"

Solana pondered as her index finger was pressed on her chin. "Standard three-five-one, point-eight gauge."

She opened up the metal container. Her finger swiping through the various collection of picks. Bringing forth a lime green pick, she inspected it then held it out to Solana. She took it between her fingers, pouting, she looked up at Y/N.

"Don't you have it in celluloid?"

"You know I only use nylon."

Solana shrugged. "Thanks anyway." her fingers flipped through the music sheet on the stand in front of her. "Can't believe Professor Kim gave us Free Bird. I don't get the physics behind sliding. I like the glissando though."

Y/N passed a breathy chuckle, amused by Solana's complaint. "I did it with a bottle neck once, I'll show when we get home."

Solana puts on her headphones, strumming away on her guitar. Y/N pages through the music sheet, making notes on the sheet with her pencil and jotting down in her notebook. Engrossed with her work, she didn't realise Hongjoong was nearing her as he took laps around the hall. A tingling sensation played around in her nasal cavities, eliciting a sneeze that was directed into her sleeve. She took out a handkerchief a swiped it across her nose.

Hongjoong shook his head in discontent, tsking as he halted right beside her. "Told you not to fool around in the rain." he whispered.

She glanced up at Hongjoong with a death stare, a shiver meandering in his nerves.

He sunk to her eye level, eyes studying the notes on the sheet. "I'll drop off some food and medicine later tonight." he whispered as his fingers paged through the sheet. His finger landed on a highlighted line. "That's dee-over-eff sharp."

"Thanks." she muttered, fingers adjusting the distortion level on her amPlug.

It was the night of the Waldorf Music Academy mixer. From nerves of steel to absolute anxietude, Y/N was trying to regain her composure. She had spent months preparing for this night. Hair and makeup to shoes and dress. Counting in her head to calm herself, fingers tapping incessantly on her thigh.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Solana rubbed Y/N on the back and gave her a small smile.

Y/N nodded as she watched Solana walk down the steps into the hall, her red gown in hand to keep from tripping. She stood at the entrance, inspecting the venue. She wore a blush pink tulle dress that halted above her knees, a bejeweled belt hugging her waist. Her beige stilettos with gemstone straps decorated her feet. A white and yellow diamond négligée hung befittingly around her neck, sure to draw attention to her chest. The necklace was paired with yellow diamond studs and bracelet. Her getup was completed with a beige clutch. She was magnificent. breathtaking really.

Hongjoong sat in his car that was parked across the street, watching her stand frozen at the door. He wore a midnight blue regular fit suit with a notch lapel, the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone. A white pocket square adorned his chest, and dark brown oxfords to complete the look. His split dye hair was slicked back, a black strand dancing on his forehead and his undercut fresh as it could be.

He exited his car and made his way across the street, into the building. His heart was thumping faster the closer he approached. Of all the beauty he had come across in his lifetime, nothing and no one ever measured up to Y/N. He stood beside her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"You are beyond... mesmerizing." he smiled. "You're very beautiful, Y/N."

She returned the gesture. "Thank you, Hong." she playfully nudged at his shoulder. "You clean up really well. I see why Kathy's always making passes."

They both chuckled lightheartedly, easing the atmosphere. Most of the anxiety that held her mind hostage had slowly begun to fall away with every second Hongjoong stood beside her.

"Too bad for her, she's not you."

He held her gaze. She looked away, heat rushing to her cheeks. Time felt as if it had slowed down.

"Just breathe, okay? You'll blow them away, that I'm certain of." he gave her a wink before descending down the staircase. "Come find me if you need a pep talk."

[ . . . ]

It had been about two hours since the mixer started. Chatting up a myriad of industry officials. She wrapped up her conversation with Joe Satriani after discussing his thought process while composing, and his experience mentoring Kirk Hammett and Steve Vai. He gave her some much needed pointers, also offering his number so he could tutor her in the future. She humbly accepted the offer, as she walked away.

She spotted Hongjoong sitting at the bar, alone. He was downing a glass of whiskey, uninterested in the event. Chaperoning was his least favourite part of the job. He called on the bartender, shaking the glass a few inches above the counter, signalling for a refill. Y/N sat on the stool beside him and ordered a long island iced tea. The bartender positioned the beverage in front of her and disappeared to tend to other guests.

"Enjoying the evening?" Hongjoong downed his whiskey in one go. "Saw you chatting up Satriani."

Y/N twirled the straw in her drink. "He said he'd tutor me after I graduate."

He looked down at his glass and smiled halfheartedly. "Guess you're outgrowing me. I've taught you all that I could."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or so.

"All this talk of graduation..." she released a shaky breath. "I realised how much I love having you around, even though it doesn't seem so. I'm ready to take the next step, if you feel like you've waited long enough."

He glanced up and saw her looking down at her drink. He knew it took a great deal of courage for her to bear her heart out. The step he'd been waiting for. She finally opened up her heart to him. All he could think of were the ways he wanted to show her new experiences and above it all, how love could be liberating and safe. He was determined to create an environment where their mutual admiration for each other could be cultivated.

Hongjoong looked back down at his drink. "You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to hear that. Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

He reached into his pant pocket. Presenting to her, he discreetly put a pink rubber device in her hand. She looked at her hand, her eyebrows creasing with confusion. In no less than a second, it dawned on her as her eyes were bewildered and her mouth grew into an 'O'. She swiftly dumped the device into her clutch, eye laser-focused on Hongjoong.

He looked her straight on, expressionless. "What are you still doing here?" his voice hushed.

[ . . . ]

She jerked up in her seat, the people around her the table casting confused glances. A simple "Shiver down the spine" was enough for them to brush her off, giving her reassuring nods. Her legs were shaking and she could barely hold the fork in her hand. When the tables were cleared, she took it as an opportunity to bury her face in her arms. Her heart was beating irregularly. Her breathing was all over the place.

Solana came back to their table and sat beside Y/N. She heard her sniffling and grew concerned. Her hand rubbed her back as she leaned in.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Solana asked innocently.

"It's nothing. Don't worry." she said with a tremble laced in her tone.

"Are you sure? You're literally shaking."

Why wouldn't she shake? Any time she felt as though it was all over, Hongjoong would crank up the setting of the remote-controlled vibrator. She was pooling at her core and her clitoris was throbbing to the point of detonation. One wrong move, she would probably collapse. She avoided being on her feet for the time being, worried her legs may give out. All she wanted was for the evening to end.

And it was far from.

Hongjoong was seated two tables away, smirking cunningly to himself. Everytime she lurched in her seat, he stifled a laugh. Having his way with her was what he considered his "single greatest achievement". He had her in his grasp and he wasn't loosening his grip for as long as he lived.

Y/N sat up, wiping the tears off her face. She put her finger on Solana's mouth, confusing her, Solana looking down at her finger.

"I'm f-fine, just... shush. I need quiet." Y/N hissed. Her eye caught the ebon stone on her finger. She squinted as she focused on it. "Er- where'd you get the rock?"

Solana pursed her lips, eyes wandering. "I, uh... a gift."

Her clutch was buzzing on the table, catching her attention. She took out her phone, her eyes greeted by a text message notification.

Hongjoong: i'm turning it off. gather yourself and meet me in room 1205 in 30 min.

Hongjoong: and DON'T take it out unless i say so.

She slipped her phone back into her clutch. As she was about let out a sigh of relief, the device went off one last time, prompting her jerk up again. Hongjoong listened to her quietly whimper as he walked past her table, not giving her a second look.

"I'll probe you later." she tilted her head to the side. "You don't mind going home alone, do you?"

Solana shook her head. "I'm meeting somebody in the hotel in..." she looked at the time on her phone. "Right now, actually. I'll see you tomorrow."

Solana stood up and swiped her purse off the table, flattening whatever creases she could find on her gown. She took out a tube of lip gloss, glistening her lips before making her exit. "Kiss kiss."

She was greeted with a 'floor 12' silver lettering when she stepped out of the elevator. Taking small strides to the room, she stood in front of the door. 1205. The grip on her clutch tightening. Deep breath in, shaky breath out. Hand balled into a fist, her knuckles met the door. Two knocks. The device still buried inside her buzzed to life, forcing an involuntarily half-loud whimper out of her. Her knees buckled and she held herself up using the door frame.

The door opened, her eyes landing on a grinning Hongjoong. He clutched her waist, pulling her into the room. She threw her arm over his shoulder, legs trembling with every step. Her clutch thrown on the coffee table. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands squeezing her hips and face buried in her stomach. She held herself up with his shoulders, staring at the top his head. He was inhaling every bit of her Issey Miyake perfume.

"Stand back a bit for me, will you?"

Y/N took a few steps back, making space between her and Hongjoong. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl evident on her face. He looked her up and down, a lustful yet dark gaze focused on her being. Their eyes competing with one another. Tension thick in the atmosphere.

Bzzzz.

She whimpered painfully, doubling over and supporting herself with her hands on her knees. "You said you'd stop."

"Long enough for you to be able to get here." he shrugged. "There's five settings on this thing and I've only taken it to four. How long is it gonna take for you to cave under five?"

"I came, like, twice in the hall. What more do you want?" she growled. She bent down to undo the straps of her heels and set them aside.

The vibrator went up to the fifth setting immediately after Hongjoong brought it back to life. "That's one hell of an attitude for someone who's under my mercy."

"I'm sorry." she cried.

It seemed the longer the buzzing went on, the more her legs would tremble. She stood by the coffee table, holding herself up. The tears mixed with sweat beads came down her face endlessly. Counting to a hundred and back in her head, trying to keep her mind off her situation. The feeling of her heart thumping violently against her chest was making her panic. Her entire body was shaking.

"Call it. I'll stop." Hongjoong deigned.

It had only been three minutes at this point. Two orgasms had washed over her. A third one was quickly materializing. An tight sensation taking up residence in her stomach. She managed stand upright. Pacing up and down in front of Hongjoong. Fisting two handfuls of her hair, she was breathing erratically, tears never seizing. As her third orgasm crept in, she bowed with her hands on her knees. Her cries more audible this time.

Down her leg came some of her nectar, underwear beyond drenched. Catching Hongjoong's attention, head cocked to the side and eyebrow arched. A smile mixed with satisfaction and bewilderment appeared. He leaned forward to get a closer look. Her knees buckled as she brought down her entire body weight. Hands pressed to the floor, her crying grew stronger.

Trying to string together a coherent sentence, unable to find her words. She managed, "Please..."

The device died. Hongjoong slipped the remote into his pocket. He went down on his knees, cupping her face and wiping away her tears. He planted his lips on hers, burying her head in his shoulder. As he took his hand into her underwear, he accidentally grazed her overly sensitive bud. Whimpering and jerking up. His fingers journeyed up inside her, retrieving the vibrator. Smeared with her juices, he brought it to his mouth and licked off the residue.

She casted him a disgusted look, eyeing him through her wet lashes and glossy eyes. Unsure if she was aroused or found it off-putting to watch her boyfriend slurp her discharge, her core released a bit more of her juices in response. Talk about cognitive dissonance. Hongjoong chuckled, as he put the toy into his pocket. He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her. His tongue requesting entry into her mouth. She tasted herself on him.

He draped his arms around her waist, undoing her belt. His fingers unzipped her dress. He stood up, bringing her up along with. The dress pooled around her legs as she stepped out of. He sat down on the bed, straddling her around his waist. She began undoing his dress shirt, then traveled down his pants. Her fingers fumbling the zip. He smacked her ass, making her moan into their kiss.

"Five-seven with the confidence of six-foot tall man." she spoke against his lips, her hand caressing his throbbing cock. "I admire that. I think it's hot."

He flicked his finger over her throbbing bud, a yelp filling his ears. "Gutsy, when I quite literally have you in the palm of my hand."

He grabbed her waist and pushed her off, taking off his pants. He sat back down on the bed. Her eyes stuck on his member. Smooth with a vein running along the base, head pink and leaking with precum. Girthy and lengthy. Her mind was racing through all the possibilities of how he'd make her fall apart. She licked her lower lip.

"Come on, take a seat." he coaxed her, pulling her hand. His other hand pumping to get him harder. "I'm gonna stuff you so good, baby."

He spun her around, her back turned to him. His hands planted firmly on her waist, he slowly descended her on his cock. Both of their bodies erupting from the slight contact. As Hongjoong was taking deep breaths, Y/N whimpered at the feel of his stretch. Her walls clamped so tight, barely allowing him entrance. Hongjoong was careful to not force her down hastily.

Patience wears thin for everyone, it's ruled by circumstance. As appreciated as it was, she was peeved. He was taking his sweet time, enjoying her feel. She balanced herself using his thighs and forced herself all the way down, until he bottomed her out.

"Will you relax? I can feel your heart beating on my dick." Hongjoong groaned when she fit him in, his arms wrapped around her stomach.

She gave a light chuckle, through shallow breaths. "Sorry Hong, you were taking too long."

After a few breathers, she began bouncing on his cock. His hands playing with her breasts, fondling away at her nipples. Her moans filled the silence in the room. The constant squelching replaying in both their heads. His grunting had her spiraling. She wanted to hear more. Kegeling on his cock. His grip on her breasts growing tighter. He traced wet kisses on her back, inevitably sinking his teeth into her skin. Marks plastered all over her back.

The warmth and slick that encapsulated his cock, paired with forceful clamping, it was coming. It wasn't long until he was painting her walls. He stilled her on his cock while he spasmed inside her. Grunting her name, over and over, in her ear.

He took her face by the jaw and cocked it to the mirror in front of them. "Don't worry, baby. You'll get yours."

He spread her legs open, rubbing the inside of her thigh. Trailing kisses on her back and shoulder. Her jaw still in his hand, his other ventured to her core. As he played with her bud, she squirmed in his hold. Any time she tried looking away, he'd force her to look at the mirror.

As she closed her eyes, tears running, he said, "Open your eyes, and don't make me ask again." he whispered into her ear, shivers traveling down her spine.

Her chest heaving up and down as she watched herself in the mirror, falling apart in his hold. Her cunt squeezing his cock in intervals. The decibels of her moans escalating. Materialising her nth orgasm of the night. He felt her clamping down, reporting on her nearing release. She mumbled incoherent strings of nothing, Hongjoong's name caught in the mix. Her head slumping down, he forced her gaze into the mirror.

Hand still toying with her, he spoke softly into her ear as she wept, "I want you to have this image of yourself engraved so deeply into your subconscious, not even a lobotomy could make you forget."

Her moaning grew and her clenching got tighter.

Planting a kiss on her neck, he said, "Cum on daddy's cock, baby. I know you can."

She held Hongjoong's gaze in the mirror as she unraveled at his words. Shallow breaths were all she could manage. Her body quaking as she creamed on his cock. He stood up, his cock slipping out of her cunt. Arousal dripping on the floor and going down her leg.

On all fours on the bed, facing the mirror, he slotted himself between her legs. His hand pumping to get himself hard again. His tip running over her folds, gathering their combined juices. Spanking her ass just to behold the recoil. His tip was sliding in and out of her cunt, teasing her. She was anxious for what was to come.

Easing into her wet hole, he buried his cock deep inside. This position was sure to have him grazing her cervix and hitting her erogenous zone at a pristine angle. She moaned into the sheets. He leaned forward, taking her hands and pinning them down on her lower back with one hand. The other hand smacking her ass before squeezing her hip for balance.

His thrusts started off slow and steady. Every pounding had her ass jiggling. His balls grazing her clit. As he picked up speed, the sound of skin clapping, Y/N moaning Hongjoong's name and Hongjoong grunting profanities occupied the room's atmosphere. Sure enough to disturb the neighbours but who cares? The bed wanted in on the action as it was vocal too, bed frame squeaking with every powerful pound.

"My pretty little slut." he panted, breathlessly. "You love daddy's cock, my perfect little whore?"

She moaned. "Yes baby, I do."

He spanked her ass once more. "You're more beautiful as my fucktoy, princess. I'm gonna fill you up with all my seed."

He slowed down a bit and released her hands. His hand wrapped around her neck, careful not to bother her négligée. She brought him up to his chest, his other hand on her stomach. Pumping in and out of her. She clenched around, this new angle had his cock brushing her sweet spot. He knew he had her in the right position when her tears started welling.

His lips pressed to her ear and grip getting tight, he grunted, "I may have everyone wrapped around my finger but I need you to be obsessed. I want to be the center of your universe. I want you to get sick at the idea of a man who's not me."

"You don't have to ask twice." she moaned, her hands grappling at his hips.

The last few brushes past her sensitive zone played around with her eyes, she was seeing stars before her eyes. Her nails sinking into his skin. Incoherent mumbles leaving her lips. The visual of her tits bouncing as he pounded her into oblivion, aroused her. As his hips were bucking, short thrusting into her, he delivered his final load for the night. She soon came undone on his cock, her cunt squeezing every bit of him out.

Once the high started subsiding, still inside her, he laid her on her back. Her legs laced around his waist, he massaged the inside of her thighs. They looked at each other lovingly through smiles, though hers was dopey and his smug.

"Thank you for giving our relationship a real shot. I know it wasn't easy for you." he cooed. "I promise I won't waste your time. And I definitely won't cage you."

Her hand ran over her stomach, rubbing circles. "I trust you, Hong. I'm not sure of a lot of things in my life but not you. You stayed when most men would've left. You waited for me and held my hand while I prepared to take that leap."

He leaned in for a kiss, her hands caressing his back. He hovered over her, bucking her hips up. "And I would do it all over again."

Afternoon had come and at around 12:30, they found themselves standing at opposite sides in the elevator. The clicking from Hongjoong's phone filling the silence. Y/N was picking and prodding at the pimple forming on her cheek. As the elevator continued descending down the building, it stopped at another floor. The doors opened and an awkward silence fell.

Everyone's eyes dancing between one another, exchanging shocked glances. Yunho and Solana stepped into the elevator, Solana standing beside Y/N and Yunho beside Hongjoong.

A sardonic smile spread across Y/N's face. "So that's why you were bunking classes..."

Solana bowed her head shamefully, heat racing to her cheeks. "I didn't know how to tell you." she spoke with a hoarse voice.

Y/N and Hongjoong exchanged bemused glances. Hongjoong cleared his throat, smirking as he looked at Yunho. "Eventful night, I see..."

Yunho's ears turned red, face turned towards the floor. Hongjoong and Yunho spoke amongst themselves, as did Y/N and Solana. The rest of the ride down was fairly normal, the awkwardness no longer felt. As the elevator stopped at the ground floor, Y/N and Solana walked a few feet ahead of their professors.

As they stood on the other side of the street, about to head their separate ways, Hongjoong stepped away as a call came in. He spoke on the phone for a minute or so then returned.

"Yunho, you mind taking Y/N home for me? There's something I need to get to." Hongjoong spoke with urgency in his tone. He pecked Y/N on the cheek before leaving. "I'll call you tonight."

Yunho opened the door to the driver's side, halfway inside. "No problem. Girls, in the car."

On the ride back to the complex, Solana asked Yunho to get them takeaways. He went into a drive-thru and journeyed back to their home. The car was parked at the gate. As they were about to exit, Yunho stopped them.

"You cannot, under any circumstance, tell anyone about last night. All of us could get in trouble." he spoke authoritatively, face stern to emphasise the urgency of his words.

The girls nodded in unison. Y/N took the bag of food and exited the vehicle. Solana remaining behind to share a few more moments with Yunho. Ascending the stairs, her eyes land on a brown box at their doorstep. As she approached, Solana came trailing behind. Both wearing confused looks.

"Were we expecting a delivery?" Solana said.

Y/N shook her head, handing over the takeaways to Solana as she inched closer to the box. She scooped it up off the floor and inspected it. Box nestled under her arm as she searched for the keys, she unlocked the door. They stepped into their apartment, Solana setting down the food on the counter. Y/N grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer. As she opened the box filled with packing peanuts, there was a card inside with her name on it.

"Guess it's for you." Solana shrugged. "What's it say?"

"'Thought you might love this. I have a feeling that it's right up there on your list of interests. -Hongjoong'." she read the card out loud.

Solana screamed, her arms wrapped around Y/N's shoulders as she jumped up and down. "Oh-em-gee, open it! Open it!"

She set the card aside and lifted the package inside the box. As she removed the yellow packing paper and bubble wrap, she felt the air leave her lungs. She held up the vinyl record a few inches away, inspecting the black cover with red detailing. Her eyes focused on the two women on the cover, finger running over their name at the very top. In awe and all, she could find words to speak.

"No. Fucking. Way." Solana exasperated. "I couldn't even get you that for your birthday."

Y/N was brought out of her trance. "I never told him about Strawberry Switchblade."

They looked at each other, eyebrows creased down the middle. "Then how'd he know?"

She shrugged, eyes still inspecting the vinyl.

[ . . . ]

The rest of the day went on as normal. The girls spent their afternoon on the couch, watching 'Our Blues'. Food spread out on the coffee table. As the final episode concluded, Solana cleared the living room. Y/N went into her bedroom, moonlight illuminating the space. She pushed the covers aside and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her phone vibrated on the nightstand as it rang.

Hongjoong.

She answered.

"So you remember that call I had earlier?"

"Yeah? Who was it?"

"I got scouted by an executive, said a doe sent them my raw recordings. They want me to produce Rihanna's next album... in Amsterdam City, but I told them I'd think about it. Said I'd run it by you."

"Hong, that's great! What do you need my opinion for?" she sat up on the bed. "Plus, Rihanna's been on hiatus for almost a decade. If this album blows up, everyone's gonna come looking for your expertise."

"We just started dating, I don't think distance would be a great idea." he sighed. "Y/N, you're the only person who knows about those recordings."

There was silence for a few moments. "I just thought you're too good for WMA, so I sent your work to as many labels as I could." she frowned a bit as she laid back down. "As for distance, I called Satriani and his people said he'll take me on after graduation... in Ivory Canyon, it's fifteen minutes away from Amsterdam. If you leave now to get settled, I'll join you in a few months."

"And you'd be okay with it?"

"We've waited this long, what's four more months?"

"How'd you like the gift?"

"Beyond love it. I've been looking at it all day, can't believe it's in my hands." she smiled as the fluttering in her stomach got stronger. "But how'd you know?"

There was rustling on his end as he laid himself down in his bed. "I noticed that you always wear polka-dot ribbons in your hair that match your outfits, sometimes with mesh flowers. Never got that."

"They're pretty." she whined.

"They are. But when I saw you at the Molchat Doma show and you mentioned Selofan... it clicked." he chuckled. "I looked up eighties goth bands that wore polka-dots and lo and behold-"

"Strawberry Switchblade. No one I've met has ever got that reference, not even Solana." she said softly. "Thank you, Joong."

"You're welcome, princess. And thank you for sending out my work, I'm usually big on risks but this..." he smirked to himself.

"You deserve somebody who'll give you a push whenever you're not sure of yourself. You're good at what you do and the world needs to hear it."

He released a deep breath. "I've got tickets to a Sextile show next Saturday."

"It's a date."

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Summary: an episode taking place after “Three Way Script”

Warnings: talks of still born children, suggestions of threesomes, consensual infidelity and polyamory

Notes: gosh I’ve been off here so long and yet I’m still clogged with love notes! How’d i get so lucky? This fandom truly is the sweetest, most gushing and loving imaginable and each of you are dear to me and I miss you all. Europe has seemed to swallow me as I’m over for another month I had not anticipated. That’s ok. It’s that’s great in fact but I’m whooped and tired and missing the chance to make believe with y’all. Here’s a little resurgence in that, thanks for your patience and please, please, please keep spamming me all you want in my inbox and dms as I adore it and it helps me feel included even as I’m a little preoccupied with work right now. Xoxo🌹

Cautions: this was written and not edited a bit, wahooo

Anne’s The Name

Ann-Margret was rather used to being ambushed outside her dressing room by the occasional stray autograph seeker, an entitled producer or five anticipating more, or co-stars looking for a drink after shooting to wind down the chemistry of the day.

As of yet, she’d never been met by a wife.

But there she was, Elaine. Never having met her before didn’t afford Ann even a split second of ignorance. She knew who she was. Mrs. Presley was unmistakable, even when playing at being inconspicuous. Leaning against the stage wall in a somehow more provocatively natural stance than even her husband could manage, those long legs freshly tanned against a pink shift skirt and the elegant length of her -she was slimmer than the papers showed her, what with this baby making hiatus- topped off by chocolate curls getting whipped around her like the studio’s wind tunnel was a paid employee. More deadly still was when the opened door attracted her attention and that pretty pearl adorned neck turned to face Ann, that stunner of a face entirely full of curiosity and maybe…mischief?

Ann was too startled to be certain.

Startled by her sudden appearance, startled by the prettiness of her, startled by the lack of venom anywhere to be found on that compelling face, the lips of which were quirking up in a undeniable smirk of teasing enjoyment. She was enjoying Ann’s dumbfounded, half cocked, partway out the door, frozen in place shock. Somehow this was neither the self sacrificing Saint not irate Madonna that Ann anticipated maybe one day being confronted by.

Instead she was being warmly appraised by heavily fringed eyes that glimmered gold in the late day’s sun. Like her merits for lover or playmate were being gauged. Ann wondered if the rumors were true, if Elvis had really taken a lump of clay and fashioned himself a wife in his own image, more identical and fitting than any rib shaped lady could aspire. That sense of danger and intrigue and knowing that had filled her on meeting Elvis came flooding over Ann again, unable to do more than curiously inspect Elaine as she turns towards her.

“Thumper?” Elaine’s voice is as soft and hopeful as it was coming across the telephone receiver weeks ago, “You are Ann, I believe?” she presses when Ann’s manner can’t play catch up with her overwhelming emotions and she remains frozen, halfway out her open door.

“Ela- Mrs. Presley!” she corrects, wincing at the fumble, utterly unsure now that she’s not being met with open hostility.

“I didn’t mean to startle you!” Elaine straightens up from the wall and click clacks over in her heels to stand opposite Ann, just an arms reach removed from each other and Ann thinks of what a pretty scene they’d make if this were scripted, one red and one brown, a flavor for each taste, matching in height and complimentary in build, facing off in a tunnel. “It’s just I managed to give Esposita the slip and E’s gonna be busy with the studio dubbing and I’m no use at all. I thought I’d wrestle up a friend while I was free.” Elaine’s beaming smile dims the longer Ann stalls for time and etiquette, “Or-or if you’re not free, I understand, I at least wanted to say hello. I’m going to be in the city for a little while and didn’t want to be bumping along into you some day without having sought you out.”

Ann wondered if Elvis asked her to come, if Ann and her inventive ways to have sex without having sex wasn’t quite cutting it and he had caved and called the wife. Or if Elaine had heard Ann’s voice over the telephone and gathered from the whole sleepwalking debacle that it was high time to reel him and his affairs in. Or maybe the colonel had seen the papers, Heda Hopper’s column in particular stating that Elvis was taking a shine to his red headed mirror, and sent the wife down for damage control. The only thing is, Ann was sure that the Colonel was thick as thieves with Hedda, much to Elaine’s distress no doubt, and he loved every bit of publicity that Elvis’ wayward eyes could drum up.

Family men didn’t sell, after all. Ann had certainly played her part in his playboy reconstruction with convincing aplomb.

“Sweetie, are you alright?” Elaine’s voice cuts through the fog of Ann’s concerns and suddenly she’s able to find her voice as she starts to tip over,

“No, I-I’m a little dizzy.” Ann admits, just as Elaine’s arms and a wall barely manage to keep her from face planting on the cement.

-I’m a little dizzy and I love your husband and you’re here to distract him and I’m awful aren't I?! but I couldn’t help it, if you love him as much as you say you’ll understand I couldn’t help it, I can’t help loving him-

“Woah, woah, have you eaten?” Elaine asks solicitously as she keeps Ann standing upright against the wall by an iron grip around her waist and under her arm. Anne winces at what she knows is the tacky feel of her sticky underarm pit cradled by Elaine Presley’s perfectly manicured hand. Why did she have to wear a yellow shift dress today of all days? She can feel Elaine’s fingers rubbing at the tassel on the waist, soothing her the same way Elvis does. By touch, gentle in a way that belies the ease with which she holds her upright. The woman is terribly strong for looking so delicate and there’s suddenly a great deal of logic to Elvis’ starry eyed submissiveness regarding his doll faced wife -Elaine is imposing when she gets her hands on you.

Embarrassment floods Ann next, blushing hot and dewy at being caught so weak in front of a woman the world would say she’s wronged. Heat replaces the cold and clammy dizziness of before and she struggles upright against the wall, getting her feet to work for her, stamping the heels a little to get a strong footing. Elaine doesn't budge in her grip on her, still looking concerned and gentle -god, she’s as comfortable with closeness as he is.

“Matter of fact I have neglected eating.” Ann chuckles weakly, puffing at the hair that’s fallen over her forehead and into her eyes, Elaine swipes it away when the directed huff proves ineffective against hairspray laden locks. “It’s been so hot and -and we had a dance scene, kept having to repeat it and -and so many takes. I got a little nauseous from the heat. I forgot to have lunch.”

“You’re probably dehydrated, poor thing.” Elaine tsks, “Makes folks sick and then they don’t want what they actually need. Happens to the kids on the beach all the time, it’s like bargaining with Castro trying to get Jesse out of the ocean to hydrate.” Ann finds herself chuckling at the mental image of this familial anecdote before she realizes she is chuckling at stories about Elvis’ kids. Should she say her condolences for Joe now? Should she even admit she knows as much as she does? “We should get some meat in you. Water, too.” Elaine decides her course for her, “Do you wanna go back in there to rest for a minute?” she points at the dressing room Ann just exited, “Or we can make a dash for my car and find ourselves a bite?”

What either of these options unspokenly state is that Ann will be spending her evening with Elaine, one way or another. If she’s gonna get throttled for being an adulteress she'd rather it be in a drive-in-diner and not some stuffy back-lot dressing room.

“I think I can manage the dash.” she answers agreeably because that’s what Elaine seems to illicit in her -agreeableness.

And as she finds herself tugged by the hand across the mostly empty parking lot, Ann wonders where that ornery streak she’s made her fame on has gone to. Maybe it’s the dehydration that has tuckered her out. Maybe it’s how Elaine acts like she’s her mother in a way that not even her own mother could make so charming.

Elaine is going to get her burgers and water and make her head less fuzzy. It’s been such a while since anyone met her needs so eagerly that Ann finds herself giggling as they race across the wavering hot asphalt, their heels echoing like clopping tattletales and Ann thinks it’s such a lark right as she tips over the convertible caddy’s door into the plush leather passenger seat.

The convertible is pink, because Elvis bought it for his wife and didn’t bother to ask her what her favored color would be, it was just understood that Mrs. Presley would like a pink Cadillac.

Ann is positive that’s how it went, she doesn’t even need to ask Elaine for the story as Elaine cranks the engine up while flipping the visor forward to tip out a pair of cat-eye shades in what strikes Ann as a strangely masculine getsure of proficiency. It makes Ann want to fan herself at the subtext of this woman having hung around Elvis Presley long enough to have picked up his impossibly cool mannerisms by osmosis.

That right there is intimacy. That right there is bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. That’s a wife.

Ann doesn't know what to do with the rush of appreciation she feels towards what ought to be a nemesis as this cool gal who shields her knowing brown eyes behind tortoise rimmed glasses and flicks on the radios right as a crowd of studio workers begins to swamp the strange duo in their flashy ride.

The song choice by the DJ is downright unfortunate. Surrounded as they are by photographing fans and coworkers, there is nothing for them to do after Elaine’s manicured finger flicks the switch and the mournful rockabilly of Runaround Sue blasts as a ironically perfect soundtrack for the missus taking the side chick out for burgers.

Elaine’s gutsy laugh of recognition at the intro wailing “woaaaah woaaaah woaaaah” tells Ann she appreciates the irony just as much but the woman just waves at the crowd and revs the motor in a fake threat of running over a few studio heartthrobs who are draped over her caddy front trying to get a closer shot.

“If I change it now they’ll read into it more.” Elaine remarks to Ann out the side of her unwavering smile and Ann thinks that’s a talent she wants to learn, damned useful looking like you’re grinning while making conversation.

-‘ask any man that she ever knew, he’ll say keep away from a runaround sue, oh yeah, woaaaaaah”-

Elaine’s french tipped fingers thump out a corresponding rhythm on the pink lacquered steering wheel while surveying the mess of attraction they’ve brought down on themselves in the sweltering parking lot before playfully reaching for the wipers and flicking on the spray with bemused cruelty.

It’s strangely attractive, this distanced bemusement of hers and it fills Ann with notions of thanking Elaine for being a little nasty, something she never felt before for another soul. Suddenly those idiots who degrade themselves and get off in it make a little more sense as she watches the young bucks scramble off of Elaine’s shiny hood with soaked shirts and tented trousers.

“Sorry fellas, y’all were lookin’ overheated.” Elaine quips before the rest of the verbal sparring gets lost in the revv of the engine and they’re peeling out of the studio lot in a move that even Elvis would have found satisfyingly risky.

As it is, Ann lays her burning head back on the white leather seat and enjoys the feeling of the wind whipping her hair off her forehead as Elaine speeds them down Las Vegas roads that don’t tolerate a 75 mile an hour pace most times.

-“well I shoulda known it from the very start, that girl would leave me with a broken heart-“

The strip is truly lovely in the daylight and there’s a charm to it when viewed in the blur of a fast car and the veil of chocolate curls whipping around red painted lips.

“Was- that- did- did Robert Redford just wave you through his red light?” Ann splutters in disbelief at a lightning fast interaction at a four way stop that has Elaine’s head swiveling dangerously and a shark-like grin taking over her face.

“I think he did.” she replies with a guilty giggle and Ann wonders when the last time this woman got to be naughty without it being smothered right out of her the next second by a unfathomably possessive husband.

“A real good looking fella in the bright of day.” she ventures.

“He’s very blonde.” Elaine rejoins and Ann can’t help but laugh at that, at her partiality for dark haired men.

“Yes of course, you like yours so black they’re nearly blue.”

Elaine manages to swivel into their parking space in the drive-in diner with easy grace, the same sorta slide and swivel Ann imagines she’d use to scoot her body into a restaurant booth. “You’re forgetting who applies his hair dye.” she says with faux gravity that has Ann faltering for a moment until she sees her smirking, “And Jack’s not darkening up despite everyone’s predictions. I’m only saying that Redford is -“ Elaine doesn’t finish, she just shrugs and pulls the gear to park.

Noticing a star’s ride at first glance, an eager young waitress in her short skirt and rollerblades flys over and Elaine handles her and the order of five cheeseburgers and as many shakes with the same cooing authority she handled Ann with against the wall.

It sends Ann back to fidgeting, even more so when the girl takes off to plug in the order and Elaine turns the full weight of those perfectly lined eyes back at her and flicks up her sun glasses into her hair to study her closer. It lasts long enough that a blush burns Ann’s face and Elaine herself wonders if Elvis enjoys this girl’s charming unawareness of her own appeal.

Seemingly satisfied with her inspection for now, Elaine turns back in her seat and tilts the rear view mirror downwards to inspect the damage the wind did to her curls and upon catching sight of her face mutters,

“That man…” in a resigned drawl while dabbing away at a smudge of red lipstick out of her lip lines that could’ve only come about by a rather impassioned smooch. Ann figures Redford is not the man in question this time.

It makes Ann feel funny, the thought of having woken up in Elvis’ bed this morning and between then and seeing him again he’s already necked his wife. Necked her thoroughly by the looks of that finger fluffed hair. Anne recalls reading an article in the Whisper about Elaine’s perpetual state of tousled hair and bitten lips, a constant innuendo to what happens to the woman the minute the curtain drops on her picture perfect, wholesome and southern, utterly above reproach little family life. Elaine gets mauled by Elvis Presley, that’s what happens. Elvis who can play the gentleman all he wants during the mating dance but in the act itself promises nothing less than a full, thorough, beastly claiming of his woman.

“Wanna go in?” His wife is asking and it shouldn’t jar Ann as much as it does but she’s so lost in her head that it spooks her all the same and she ends up nodding mindlessly, trying to think about optics and failing to see how this could be anything but tragic for herself. “Alright but use the door handle this time, it’s got one.” Elaine snarks with a pretty little snarl of those red lips and Ann bashfully opens the caddy door properly this time instead of spilling over the side like a tomboy.

She’s still learning how to be what Hollywood wants her to be. Shedding her wholesome girl next door image for a sex kitten verve that hasn’t been entirely unnatural. But it takes a bit of balance as even sex kittens need some glamor, some poise and grace, even as they’re promisingly feral. It’s like tousled curls that hint at obscene amounts of public fuckery without being remotely indecent in itself. She watches Elaine swing open the diner door and wait with charming annoyance at Ann’s preoccupied dawdling. Being billed the “female Elvis” brought about the challenge of having to figure out what Elvis’ appeal even consisted of.

Getting to know the man…intimately…hadn’t made that any clearer. There was a mystique about him that she feared her own shy and frank nature could never manage to do more than a cheap imitation of. Now she was beginning to fear half of his appeal was the promise of his capability that was shown in Elaine Presley’s every move and smirk.

Asking his exquisitely poised and deliciously no-nonsense wife about it didn’t seem a smart move. Recovering from tripping over the curb like an awkward preteen, Ann ducks her head appreciatively for Elaine still holding the damn door open and slips inside the checkered diner.

It was teeth chattering cold in the leather booths after the heat of the ride and both Ann and Elaine found themselves shrinking from settling back into their seats, leaned forward instead with elbows on the table in a cozy pose but no topic of conversation to break the ice as they hovered in such close proximity.

“I thought this would be easier.” Elaine finally let out with a little huff and Ann couldn’t be sure if she was annoyed at her or the situation. “I thought we'd have a lot to talk about.” she explained with a hint of sadness that bewilders Ann. In response to her nonplussed face Elaine went on, “Why, you know…about…lord, our interests! Which as I hear of it consist of many of mine, motorcycles and dancing, my husband of course, and thumb sucking -to name a few.”

Ann inhaled her shake at the mention of that particular sex act, utterly unmoored at the notion he’d told his wife the actual detail. The fact the wife would tell it back.

Elaine was smiling at her coughing fit.

“He’s got such pretty fingers.” she commiserates without pausing in the assault as Ann wheezes

in a vanilla tinged breath, “It’s ingenious really, he said it worked a little too well.”

It had, that’s true, though Ann had never expected Elvis to leave her flat and call his wife up and tell her about how his young costar had cajoled him into rubbing himself to completion as she sucked his thumb in a pantomime of both fallatio and abstinence. Ann had never felt so filthy as she had when she’d watched a married man spew over his knuckles as he hooked his other thumb into her cheek at the same time, leaving her with a knowing smile, happy to keep her revved up and hungry for him for days after until he finally caved and-

“Makes me wanna try it.” Elaine’s voice cuts through the fog and Ann is faced yet again with the fact that this woman seems to wanna chat about her husband's technical infidelity like two girls at a sleepover. She’s still waiting for the seething possessiveness and or vicious cutting down to size.

“Thank you for the flowers, that was -that was much too kind.” Ann gets it out, burdened in a way she hadn’t been before the bizarre need to be liked by Elaine Presley had taken root.

“Thanks for being good to him.” Elaine replies without missing a beat but in so low and earnest a tone it seems to warm the entire diner and the leather feels cozy.

“I’m so sorry about Joe.” Ann blurts with hoarse earnestness because the grief of it is choking her as she watches this woman dazzle and smile her way through a cataclysmic tragedy, the size of which has Elvis Presley himself trying to sleep walk to his death to end the pain of it.

An emotion, something very cold initially and then frighteningly intense, almost a little ugly in its horrifying struggle flits across, then threatens to crumple, Elaine’s poised features and Ann suddenly wishes her tongue had been cut out, she oughta be locked up and never let out in polite society again. She watches helplessly as Elaine’s mouth firms into a hard line even as her eyes grow wide and wild and begin glittering madly with what Ann realizes, almost too late, are unshed tears -and then those perfectly manicured hands fly up to hide a deluge of grief that melts that serene facade.

“I-I’m so sorry, I just -I just had to say it.” Ann hears herself whimpering out condolences and excuses and her hands fumble over the linoleum table top in a helpless gesture as Elaine’s hands are too busy shielding her famous face from the entire diner’s occupants as her shoulders shake in a terrible rhythm that is peculiar to stifled sobbing. “I’m just so horribly sorry for you, for both of you, all of you. And everybody goes on like it didn’t happen but I- I can’t imagine how awful that is, the ignoring of it. I-I didn’t think before I said anything I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Elaine.”

Ann watches as the sobs seem to slow, and then they still, and eventually, this young woman leans forward again and rests her elbows on the table, face still hidden by her hands, one of which boasts that stupendously gaudy wedding band. Realizing there’s one thing she can mend, Ann reaches into her purse and digs out a hanky before pressing it against Elaine’s knuckles in a silent plea for her to use it.

It’s like witchcraft the way her face is entirely composed once those hands drop and the damp and smudged hanky is balled into her dainty fist. She’s looking straight past Ann at her surroundings, clocking her audience and even twisting a little in her seat to make certain no one’s overly enthralled by her lapse in perfection, it’s exhausting watching this haunted look of hunted excellence by, Ann can’t even imagine what it’s like living it. Suddenly Ann’s hands are being gripped and the woman’s fingers are burning hot and clammy and her eyes are boring into her own, seemingly satisfied that they are still anonymous enough for a little show of emotion and Elaine is murmuring in a husky whisper,

“Thank you, Thumper -you see, nobody talks about her. I-I -there’s no one I can talk to…about her.”

The fact that her own husband can’t even manage it but had to find a stranger to spill to instead strikes Ann with a fathomless guilt for taking that from Elaine, but it’s not as if she had elicited it! He came to Ann himself and what he spoke of she couldn't control. Still, actually getting to see the cracks in his wife’s soul from the loneliness of her grief is a different thing entirely and she is moved to make amends.

“You can always talk to me -if it helps.” she whispers and Elaine gives her a wincing smile.

“I don’t think anything will help.” Elaine replies with a moodiness that is both entirely understandable, if a little off putting in just how severe it is. And, forever the barometer of moods, as if sensing Ann’s unease with her glumness, Elaine perks up in a nauseatingly convincing display of cheer. “It’s just -I think that after Mrs. Kennedy lost her baby and all that sadness, the people just don’t have it in them to find much -interest, in the sad parts. They need happiness and, and courage from us.”

Elaine’s biting her lip in a vain attempt to make it stop wobbling and Ann wishes she could smack the American public for insisting these women, one the wife of the President and the other of the King, hold up a perfect little Camelot for them to read about every Sunday. It’s real lives, real lives grieving and straining and trying their best, real infants dying and golden couples struggling to regain intimacy beyond the midnight sobbing cuddle sessions that have taken the place of making love.

No money in the world is worth such a forced display of perfection in the face of such aloneness.

“You should worry about what you need right now.” Ann tells her what she told her husband the other night.

“Ah.” Elaine clicks her tongue doubtfully, “That’s all real well but I dunno what I need. But you -are you what Elvis needs? Hmm?”

Suddenly Ann wants to bolt again, throat tight and heart skipping a beat, “I-I don’t know.”

“How old are ya?” she asks like that is a natural progression in the conversation, as if Elaine is going to be the judge of wether it is beneficial for her husband to 69 his co-star in order to forget about his dead child.

“I’m twenty two.” It feels like a confession under that earnest eyed review.

“Lord.” Elaine bites off the head of a fry and Ann wishes she was a lil soaked potato crisp herself, that bemused meanness simmering to Elaine’s smooth surface again and turning Ann into a hot mess under her nylons. “And do you wanna get married, Miss Margret? You want kids and all that? Or is it the stage life for you?”

“No, I-I’d like kids, and I’d like to marry.” she insists, “Just not now -and not Elvis, of course not Elvis!”

“Well that’s good.” Elaine drawls sardonically, “Cause he’s taken and happy to be so.”

“Yes! Yes he loves you so much.” it’s a sort of masochism for Ann to admit that yet somehow she finds she doesn’t mind it.

“I know.” is all Elaine replies with, utterly unimpressed.

“So,” Ann finds this ordeal unbearable enough she might as well ask what’s been burdening her, “why did you wanna meet with me? Is- is he through with me?” The full scale of her own unease finally surfaces and she realizes she’s got cause to suspect Elaine of more than just being jealous. “Did he send you to do it? To break it off me with me?” she can’t help the way her voice raises in outrage, it may be misplaced but her love is not false and she doesn’t deserve this, he oughta man up and do his own dirty work.

Elaine doesn’t reply for a few beats that have Ann wringing her hands around her sweaty milk shake in suspense, curious as to why the woman doesn't take the easy route and admit it, crow over her -once again the straying husband has returned to her.

“This film has only got a couple of weeks left.” Elaine says instead in so measured a tone it slices Ann to the heart quicker than any boast, “But no, no he hasn’t sent me to do anything. I’m no one’s errand boy.”

“Of course not.” Ann mumbles in apology.

“But he has-“ Elaine’s mouth twists in distress over wording and every delay hurts Ann just a little more from suspense, “-Elvis has recommenced his interest in me.” that’s a positively hilarious way to say he banged his wife and not the side piece this afternoon and Ann hates her for her delicacy, and all the pain and complications it hides, “And the thing of it is, I’ve already noticed a waning of his preoccupation with you and -I’m just an observer. It’s what I do, I watch him and then I act on what he’s gonna do or what he’s gonna want. And, Ann, can I call ya Ann? Ann, I -I think he’s gonna try to move on from ya, when the movie wraps, like he’s moved on from the others.”

Ann bites at her straw and prays her jimmying leg beneath the table isn’t painfully obvious.

“I don’t want that.” Elaine states suddenly and Ann lets go of the poor, abused straw.

“What?”

“You’re not just some other gal, Thumper.” she rolls her eyes -fondly, unless Ann is greatly mistaken. “But I think he’d treat ya like one for me. I do think it’s what he intends to do. It’s -he said as much this afternoon…during.”

Ann’s cheeks flame hot from mortification and anger, but from something else too. An electric shock zapping through her at the unintended imagining of Elvis talking about her while buried inside of Elaine. To be thought of, spoken of, made a part of that dynamic…Ann is going to hell for the way it makes her clench and breath in like a panting racehorse.

“Well that’s all -settled for you, isn’t it.” she can’t help but try her hand at being a little mean herself. It comes out petulant and she winces at the pettiness of it.

“Yes.” Elaine doesn't bother with false remorse over her surety in her husband’s return, “Which means all that’s left is to help sort you.”

“Sort me?“ Ann isn’t above mud wrestling a fellow gal on the diner floor.

“Thumper, darling,” Elaine sighs gently while her eyes stray behind Ann’s head at some gathering fans behind them, “this industry crafts an image for its stars like suits for models. What they’ve got for ya right now sure is flattering, but make no mistake, they’ll be happy to discard you and your new suit whenever it no longer makes folks gossip. I’d like us to last a lot longer than all that.” her eyes focus back on Ann’s and a sad smile lights up her face, “I think we’ve got it in us to.”

“Who’s us?”

Elaine seems to take time to consider that before answering, “The trio of us.”

Ann remains wary, it’s altogether too easy to want her to mean what she can’t possibly have intended. “Us?”

“Yeah, us.” Elaine grins, “Or at least, I think that Thumper and Naughty and Tink could manage something. Even if the adults can’t.”

It’s wicked that smile of hers and awfully persuasive, like she’s figured something out. And maybe she has, that throat closing fear that Ann was a replacement suddenly allayed by the jimmying legged beauty who acts so brave while having the ill luck of having a soulmate in a married man.

Ann’s no replacement for Elaine.

She’s Elvis’ mirror and his double and a fondness blooms in Elaine’s heart for her at that realization, along with a healthy dose of exasperation that always seems to linger when in Elvis’ presence.

“So, will you let me sort you?” she presses the young woman and doesn’t miss the way she swallows hard in the same way Elvis does when Elaine starts bossing.

Interesting.

“Arrange a little something for us that’ll outlast those hooligans at MGM? You gotta think about what you want, Ann, they’ll get ya on the treadmill and never turn the damn thing down when you burn out unless ya make them. I’d have thought you’d have learnt that these past few weeks.”

Ann knows she’s referring to Elvis and his insomnia, his hollow eyed spouting of the newest script and his mechanical jiving while his soul atrophies from grief suppressed. Ann knows there’s a damned dead end at the end of loving him too thoroughly. Too exclusively. But God! -he made her feel important. That’s all a little silly now that she’s looking at his wife with those love kiss abrasions adorning her throat and a diamond weighing down her finger.

Ann wants Elvis. Ann also wants whatever it is Elaine’s got and if she ever wants to really get that, she's gonna have to let Elaine’s husband go and find herself one of her own. “Alright.” she whispers, smudging the linoleum table top with her wrist, “I mean -I would like to remain friends. Very much.”

“We can do better than just that. But it’s a start.” Elaine clicks her tongue in a strangely cocksure way that has Ann melting as she watches as if in slow motion as Elaine’s hand comes up to her face, a manicured finger swiping at the corner of Ann’s lip before bringing the vanilla frosted finger to her own mouth and sucking nonchalantly.

Already sorting her out and Ann complies with rapt attention and a shudder. “I had the good sense to leave Jack behind for this little visit.” she admits cheerily, as if making breezy conversation and Ann realizes the crowd behind her shoulder have moved in closer, “Which means we could have a dinner party, us three, and there’d be no chaperone to set a curfew.”

Mrs. Presley wiggles her eyebrows in a way that suggests they won’t be watching movies late into the night and Ann’s heart threatens to gallop away from her at the thought of it.

Someone from the crowd asks for an autograph.

Preoccupied, Ann accidentally writes “thumper” on the bottom of a fresh Polaroid depicting her and Elaine peeling out of the studio lot.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

I hope y’all enjoyed, after such a long pause I’d be astounded if any of y’all were still invested in this but I swear that while I may not be as prolific in the next few months, my gargantuan plot for this universe and others are still alive in my brain. Love y’all 😘 if you wanna be added to the taglist please comment below

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

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@arianatheangelgirl

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@angelface-555

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@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

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@ellie-24

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@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

@ashtag2887

@dkayfixates

[littleredwing89]

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 6

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 6

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. Fluff. Domestic fluff. Very, very minor Daddy kink.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! :) apologies for no tag list, still trying to get it working and get back into the swing of things xoxo

——

You pushed the trolley further down the refrigerated aisle, humming softly as you threw a selection of soft cheeses into it. Jason was close behind you, hand resting on your lower back. You bit back the smile at his semi protective manner as you strolled on.

You glanced at the vast array of butters frowning. Did there really have to be so much choice? Salted, non salted, low fat, garlic flavoured. You scoffed, “They must think I’m crazy, I’m not paying $10 for butter!”.

Jason’s brow creased slightly, “Do they not normally cost $50?”.

You almost choked at his ridiculous question before bursting into laughter, “Are you drunk?!”.

He grunted and threw in a butter of his own before returning close to your side. His hand rested in the same place as before sending a wave of warmth through you. You glanced at him sideways, appreciating his form. It was a change, a welcomed one mind you, to see him in black sweatpants and a simple charcoal T-shirt instead of the expensive Italian suits. His dark hair was messy, several white strands from his fringe flopping down into his blue eyes. He still looked just as handsome, maybe even more so in such a relaxed and casual setting.

Your thoughts splintered when you heard another item drop into the trolley. You rolled your eyes when you saw the whipped cream. Typical. Jason had a filthy smirk on his lips when you looked up at him, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“No”, you bent over into the trolley, grabbing it quickly, shoving it back into his hands.

“But-”.

You cut him off, “No”.

Gripping the can in his hands, Jason pouted before pressing his lips to your hair, “But I have an idea”.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feel of his lips brushing against the crown of your head before you whispered, “You’re not putting it on your cock”.

Jason grunted quietly, “Kill joy”, he shoved it back into the fridge before looking at you, eyes glittering darkly, “What about on your pussy?”.

An old lady passing you both gasped and scuttled by, muttering angrily to herself. She looked completely disgusted with both you and Jason.

You blushed before shaking your head, “Yeah…that sounds like a yeast infection, no thanks”.

He smirked and palmed your ass, tugging you closer to him. His chest pressed against you, “I’ll just have to find something else to eat off you”.

His husky voice sent shivers down your spine which you tried to pass off down to the cold atmosphere of the aisle.

“You’re a sex pest”.

Jason shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “Oh, that reminds me I need more coffee”.

“What the-”, you shook your head in disbelief, “How did you leap to that?!”.

“Sex pests need their energy to harass beautiful women...like you”, his voice oozed with the charm he laid on in the office. The one you swore wouldn’t work on you but was suddenly making you flush pink.

You shoved your palm into his face but smiled fondly. He pretended to bite your fingers in a playful gesture causing you to giggle. You briefly wondered what you both looked like to the other customers. Some love sick couple, who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Butterflies flooded your stomach at the thought of being mistaken for a real couple.

“You know, I don’t remember the last time I came here”, Jason spoke as you made your way further into the supermarket, throwing a bag of pasta into the trolley.

You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”.

Jason dropped in some of the more expensive pasta sauce before looking at you, “I don’t - well - I don’t usually do my own shopping”.

“And you call me princess!”, you smirked.

Jason pinched your ass, “You're Daddy's little princess…”.

He went to kiss you but the same old lady from before coughed loudly, clearly having heard your conversation. She hobbled forward with a glare, “Excuse me, you’re blocking the pasta I need”.

You stepped back, burying your face into your hair. You wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. What must she think of you both?

Jason gave her a dazzling smile, “Sorry sweetheart”.

There it was, that same slick charm only even thicker.

“Do you want me to help you with that?”.

His suaveness clearly didn’t work on her as she grunted, grabbing the sauce before waddling off down the next aisle, mumbling about the filthy next generation.

The pair of you shared a look before laughing. He grabbed your hand and tugged you gently, “Come on princess, I need a few more things before we can go”.

———

The whole scenario of you both in the supermarket had your mind hazy. Such a domestic task completed together. It made you feel warm inside. You knew this was new for Jason too, wondering momentarily if he’d ever shared this side of himself with anyone before. Maybe that’s why he was so closed, insisting this was nothing more than passion between the sheets.

He’d vanished for a moment to grab something from one of the other aisles, telling you to carry on. You skimmed your eyes over the freezers, spying the vegetables you wanted. You opened the freezer and grabbed the bag of frozen broccoli before closing the door behind you. You shrieked when you turned and saw Jason right behind you. 

Your grip on the frozen vegetables tightened as you looked up at him, “Jeez, are you trying to-”.

He cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, your back wedged against the ice cold door. You shuddered, gasping into his mouth at the duel of sensations. The bitter coolness biting into your back fighting against the heat of his mouth and kiss.

Without thinking, you dropped the broccoli and wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You felt him smirk and his tongue grazed against yours, hips digging into yours. You could feel the outline of him and the thoughts firing in your mind started to make your stomach twist.

Jason pulled back suddenly, your cheeks tinged pink. He grinned cheekily before bending down to pick up the rudely discarded broccoli.

“I think you dropped something princess”.

You gathered your thoughts and ripped the bag of frozen vegetables from his hands, “Let’s go pay for our shopping Casanova before you can’t control yourself”.

His deep laughter followed you down the rest of the aisle, his hand settling on your lower back again.

———

Jason pressed a button on his car keys and the boot opened slowly. You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Neat trick”.

He grinned, “It was an optional extra when I bought it”.

You ignored him and loaded the bags into the back of the car quickly. As soon as the trolley was empty, Jason wheeled it away back to the trolley station. You closed the boot with a thud and rested your ass on it gently, eyebrow raised.

“Well, I gotta say”, you gave him a coy smile, “This was an original date, I’ve never been taken to the supermarket before”, you spoke as though it was a hidden scandal. Jason Todd, shopping in Walmart.

“It isn't a date”, he grunted and stepped a little closer to you, eyes raking over your body. You’d purposely worn these yoga pants knowing how much he liked the way they clung to your curves. Curves he wanted to worship.

“What would you call it?”.

“Killing time”.

You didn’t take offence to his flippant attitude. You expected it. Despite what he was saying, his actions were doing the complete opposite. Telling you all you needed to know about the man in front of you.

“You”, you prodded his solid chest, “Are severely lacking brain cells”.

Jason huffed, “I needed to go and so did you, two birds one stone”.

He almost sounded convincing. Almost. But the way he was caging you against the boot of his car told you otherwise. He was stubborn. That you had to admit. He just needed a little coaxing. A little reassurance. And maybe some gentle teasing.

You nodded, “Mmhmm, sure…Mr. I don't do my own shopping”.

“It was convenient”.

“Jason”, you whispered softly, batting your eyelashes up at him, “You even kissed me next to the frozen broccoli…which was so steamy it almost melted my vegetables”.

Jason didn’t miss the light teasing in your voice and smirked, “My princess has kissable lips, no one can blame me for that”.

“My princess?”, you stroked your hand up his chest, the cotton soft under your fingertips, “How possessive…you almost sound like my boyfriend”.

He growled low and crashed his lips against yours. You purred softly as his 5 day old stubble tickled your skin, hands snaking around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his head. Jason pressed you further into the metal of his car, one hand gripping your hip, the other cupped around the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place. It might have sounded cliché, and something out of one of your grandmother's romance novels but Jason’s kisses completely took your breath away. 

You grinned into the kiss, pulling away slightly, your lips brushing over his as you spoke, “Your publicity team is gonna have an aneurysm if we get caught, what will the paparazzi say if they see their Prince of Gotham getting x-rated in public?”.

“I don’t care, they work for me”, he muttered, stealing another brief kiss from you, “They can work their magic and earn their salaries”.

Your lips kissed across his cheek, stopping at his earlobe, whispering, “I got the whipped cream…”.

Jason shivered and the hand on your hip flexed, “Oh did you?”, he smirked and pulled your core to press against his crotch, you felt his bulge twitch which was barely hidden by the fabric of his sweatpants, “I know what I'm having for dessert tonight”.

“I thought you wanted me out of your apartment tonight, something about a poker night with the boys?”, you pulled back quickly, your eyebrow quirked upwards.

Jason tugged you back to him, “You’ve got cuter reactions”. He nipped your bottom lip, enjoying the way your gasp stroked over his lips.

“So you’re cancelling on the boys for lil’ ole me?”, you nudged your nose against his before planting a delicate kiss to his lips, “They’re definitely going to think you have a girlfriend if you keep cancelling on them”.

“I'll still be enjoying myself”, he brushed it off completely and stood back slowly, his hand finding yours without question, “Let’s get back, there’s a bottle of whipped cream with your name on it”.

He walked you round to the passenger side of the door before opening it for you. You smiled at his behaviour and kissed his cheek before slipping into his Audi.

———

[marksbear]

Hi , I wanna say I started reading you're work just a few days ago and I love it especially cause finding sub Patrick Bateman is super hard .... I wanted to request a reader x sub Patrick Bateman in which Patrick gets laid in front of all his workers as he wasn't able to behave properly to his master . Would love to see my dream come true if no then its fine , thanks for the great stories .

xoxo

Hi! Thank you for loving for my fics! And I hope this makes your dreams come true! And also I never wrote something like this so please have mercy on me! 😭

Warnings! SMUT, slut, whore used. Spit as lube, public touching, public sex, humiliation, workers watching, work sex. And ETC

SUB PATRICK BATEMAN X DOM MALE READER

The room was filled with fake laughter and praise. Many of the businessmen that Patrick calls "friends" were inside. The group talked about their lives and work life as they expect each other's business cards.

The group trashed and joked about the people who'd work with them or who were beneath them business wise. The only person who wasn't giving any input in the conversation was Y/n L/n who was really only here because he wanted to spend time with his fiancé not his idiot buddies.

Patrick joined in a few times talking shit about his personal assistant and other co-workers while the others in the room laughed and agreed.

"You know Bateman, I don't even understand why you let.. What's her name again?"

"Jean." A different man finishes the word.

"Yeah! I don't understand why you let Jean work for you. She clearly wants something from you, and i'm not talking about a promotion." The man says with a laugh as the other men in the room laugh and agree with him.

Patrick simply only nodded and used a fake smile. Someone who wasn't laughing was his fiancé Y/n. Y/n had an irritated and possessive expression on his face.

Y/n and Patrick have been dating for three years and just recently Y/n proposed and now they are gonna get married in a few more months.

Y/n had a jealous grip on Patrick's thigh obliviously not enjoying the conversation.

"Just give the woman what she wants! Then after it's done just leave her like the rest of the women you have!" A different man speaks up before turning his head to Y/n.

"L/n. You don't know this since you never want to hang out with us, but Bateman here always has a new woman with him every time we hang out!" The same man adds in with a smile.

"Oh really?" Y/n says with a eyebrow raised looking at his nervous fiance.

"Patrick... I thought you had a fiance. What happened to that." Y/n says pointing at the engagement ring on Patrick's finger. Patrick looked at Y/n nervously. He felt all eyes on both of them. Patrick worked hard for his reputation and he wasn't gonna let his jealous fiancé mess everything up. When they could just talk about this at home.

"This ring is only an accessory nothing more. And you obviously thought wrong." Patrick brutally responds back. Y/n leaned in and whisper into Patrick's ear.

"Your a real fucking act. How could you just sit here and lie to my face even though you were the one who nearly cried of joy when I proposed. And especially how you were the one who sucked my dick only a couple minutes after."

Once those words were uttered to Patrick's ear a the same hand that was just on his thigh was now on his crotch palming his dick through the pants. Patrick tried to move Y/n's away off of him, but Y/n's hand wasn't bugging.

"You know, this wouldn't be happening if you'd just behave for once." Y/n whispers into Patrick's ear,

The attention went off from the two males as the other workers talked among each other.

The hard tent inside Patrick's pants was hidden by the table as Y/n palms him.

Y/n leans again whispering into Patrick's ear. "Pull your pants and underwear down. Then bend over on the table." Patrick head whips to Y/n's direction. "Wh-what! No! Not here! Not in front of them!" Patrick responds back in a hushed yell.

"Patrick... Are you disobeying me? And plus I thought you liked being watched. Making those prostitutes watch me as I fuck you. Don't you remember that." Y/n responds back a smirk crawling onto his lips hearing Patrick let out a pathetic whimper.

"P-please master... I'm not even prepped." Patrick begs out whispering back to Y/n. "Don't make me force you." Y/n responds back.

"Everyone." Y/n announces catching the men in the room's attention.

"I'm sorry to tell you all, but Bateman has been lying to you all. The reason is why he can't give the girl what she wants is because hes to much of a slut for his fiancé." Y/n says as Patrick shamelessly and nervously pulls his pants and boxers.

The workers jaw was dropped and some had confused expressions. Patrick bends down over the table covering his face from their confused and curious eyes.

Y/n stands up from his chair moving behind Patrick's hands on his waist.

"Bateman here is a fucking whore who likes being used by a man." Y/n says humiliating Patrick as he unbuckles his pants. Y/n pulls down his pants and boxers done a little so only his cock was visible.

Patrick's friends didn't know what to do or think so they just sat in shock and watched. Y/n used his hands to spread open Patrick before spiting a couple times on his hole.

Patrick covered his mouth as he feels the tip of Y/n’s cock rub against him.

For a moment Patrick forgot about the workers in the room all staring at him in shock and some hidden lust with their eyes.

Patrick moved hips back moving his ass against Y/n’s cock. Y/n’s holds onto Patrick’s hips keeping him still as he pushes his cock inside his hole. Patrick’s eyes held closed as Y/n moves inside him.

Patrick’s hands held onto the table for dear life clawing at it.

Y/n moves deeper into Patrick’s hole eyes leaving Patrick’s body for once looking at the men in the room.

Some looked like they were enjoying the show while others looked uncertain.

Once Y/n was inside of Patrick halfway Y/n pulls out only leaving his tip inside. Patrick could finally take a break collecting a few breaths of air before suddenly Y/n snaps his hips forward driving his cock all the way inside Patrick.

Patrick let out a moan as he almost choked on air. Y/n moves his hips back before thrusting back forward.

Y/n’s thrust we’re rough and slow not doing his usual fast thrust just yet. He wanted to make Patrick beg for it.

Patrick’s eyes were kept shut not noticing that some men stood up from their chairs and moves around the table to g a better look.

Y/n gave Patrick a hard thrust again causing him to let out another long moan.

“H-hurry the hell up!~” Patrick said with a tiny quiet whimper to follow. Y/n laughed and thrusted again harder than the last.

“Beg for it baby~ Let me hear you use your word’s.” Y/n says with a smirk. Patrick let out a irritated groan.

“…please. Please go faster.” Patrick whispers barley even a whisper. “I know your a lot louder than that. Tell me how much you want it.” Y/n responds back before thrusting in and out in a slow pace.

“I want it so bad… I want your stupid fucking cock~ Oh F-fuuck!~ please I-I need it!” Patrick begs our feeling his face hot and flustered from embarrassment.

“Such a good slut Patrick! I knew you could do it.” Y/n praises. Y/n thrust became faster doing what he was asked.

Patrick’s eyes squinted open eyes raising up to meet one of the men rubbing himself through his pants.

Patrick couldn’t decide if he hated this or loved this.

Rough skin slapping against each other filled the room as Y/n let go of Patrick’s hips holding onto the table as he fucks Patrick deeper.

Patrick bit his bottom lip hard as he tried to hold back his moans. The tip of Y/n’s cock brushed against Patrick’s prostate.

Patrick’s walls tightened around Y/n’s cock as Y/n used him.

In between Patrick’s legs his cock twitched and leaked precum. Y/n’s snapped back and forth as he aimed for Patrick’s prostate.

“Oh fuck! ha-harder~ please fuck me harder!” Patrick moaned out feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.

Patrick’s legs trembled and aches from Y/n’s hard thrust.

With a few more hard thrust Patrick cums hard. The cum lands on the floor beneath him. As Patrick shoots his load many of the men watched in awe and lust.

As Patrick calms down from his high his walls tighten even more around Y/n causing Y/n to let out a groan.

Y/n’s thrust became faster and messier feeling his orgasm nearing. Patrick weakly spread his open wider as Y/n thrust faster.

Feeling close Y/n started to let out groans and tiny moans feeling his cock twitch inside him.

“Fu-fuck!~ Give it to me master!~ Cum inside me!” Patrick moans out desperately.

With Y/n’s muscles tensing he cums deep inside Patrick’s abused hole. Y/n filled Patrick’s hole with white sticky cum. Y/n slowed down his thrust going slower and gentle until he had nothing left to give.

Y/n slowly pulled his cock out letting cum leak out of Patrick’s hole. Y/n stared at the mess he created before giving Patrick a kiss on the cheek .

“Let’s go home honey.” Y/n says normally pulling up his underwear and pants and fixing his belt before doing the same for Patrick.

“See you guys tonight at dinner.” Y/n looking at the stunned men In the room before helping Patrick on his feet.

Once the two left the room all the men was silent and still processing what they just saw.

THE END

[amirasainz]

kind of piggybacking off of your i like you have a cupcake imagine. can you do a little spin off with kika and pierre where they all have some fun with whip cream and maybe she’s sore from walking so there’s like a massage element?

Ok.....so this is just smut. Like I mean real, dirty smut. This is my first time writing something spicy, so please let me know what you think. Enjoy reading and send me some requests.

-XoXo

No Part 2!

Whipped Cream

After a whole day of walking around the paddock and giving each of her favourite people a cupcake, to say Amira was tired was an underestimation. But the offer from Pierre and Kika to show her the "real way" of using whipped cream in the bedroom was really tempting. It was a known fact that the everyone in the paddock tended to baby Amira. It didn't help that Amira was overall an really innocent person. That was the main thing that exited Pierre and Kika. To ruin Amira's innocence and turn her into their perfect girlfriend. Not that she already wasn't.

So when the knock finally filled the silence in the couples bedroom, Kika immediately jumped up from the bed. "Hi pretty girl" she whispered, while pulling Amira into their bedroom. Amira sunk into the comforting feeling of warmth around her. After a moment, another pair of arms wrapped around her, a warm chest warming her back. She felt Pierre's lips on her head. Slowly, she lifted her head from Kika's neck, letting it fall behind her on the mans shoulder.

The Frenchman turned her head towards his, inching his lips closer and closer to the Spanish woman. "Open your eyes, ma belle" Pierre murmured. Amira took one deep breath before opening her eyes. When Kika saw the beautiful clouded eyes of the girl in the middle of them, she couldn't help but groan. She quickly surged forward, attaching her lips to Amiras neck.

Pierre kept eye contact with Amira, before kissing her. At first it was a soft kiss, but after a while it turned hotter and more desparate. Kika, who started to feel annoyed, broke Pierres and Amiras kiss to kiss the girl herself. While the two girls kissed, Pierres hands wandered over Amiras body. The Spanish girl took a deep breath before smiling wildly.

"Wow" whispered Amira. She could feel the pairs chuckle on her body, making her laugh softly as well. "Come, pretty girl. If I remember correctly, we promised you a sweet night with whipped cream, no?" asked Pierre. He picked up the girl like she weighed nothing. Kika got on top of Amira, putting herself in-between the legs of the girl. While she kissed Amira, she grinded herself on Amira.

Pierre enjoyed the sight so much, that he couldn't help but take a picture of his girls. After a short video, he joined the two girls. Kika made some space for her boyfriend who started kissing the Sainz girl. During Pierre's make-out session, Kika undressed the perfect girl on their bed. She removed the girls shoes and dress, before stopping.

Like children on Christmas morning, Kika and Pierre removed her underwear like wrapping paper. "Now, my love. There is something you have to know about whipped cream" started Kika. Pierre nodded. "She is right. You know, the whipped cream can only go on special places on your body." "Really? Where?" asked Amira, her voice filled with anticipation. Pierre took the whipped cream can from the nightstand and started shaking it lightly. "Like there" he said, putting some in the space between he breast. Kika surged forward, licking it up in slow motion.

Amira's breath caught in her chest. "Or there" spraying the cream on her boobs. Now it was Pierre's turn to "clean" her body. With shaking breaths, Amira moved one of her hands in Pierres hair while holding Kika's hand with the other. The Model soothingly stroked the back of her hand. "But the most important place……is her." Without hesitation, the portuguese woman dived between Amira's legs. Said girl couldn't help but moan. "Ahhh….F-Fuck" she airily said.

The stimulation from both Pierre and Kika quickly brought her to her first orgasm. Kika, who loved the taste of her sweet juice, didn't realise that she overstimulated the young girl. It was Pierre's hand in her hair that brought her out of her pussy-drunk daze. "Alright, honey. Don't be too rough with our girl" he warned. Kika went towards the top of the bed, leaning her back on the headrest, spreeding her legs wide. Pierre manhandled the beautiful girl on her stomach. With his veiny hands, he guided her hips in the air. The took the can of whpped cream in his hand, spraying some inside his girlfriend. Kika guided Amira's head towards her cunt, asking the dazed girl "Think you can help clean me up?" she asked sweetly. After Amiras nod, Pierre guided his cock in the girls pussy. All three of them moanded together. "Let's get this Party started" said Pierre, before moving his hips ruthlessly.

[hyperfixatedimagines]

Dragon Ride- Laena x f!reader

Summary: Laena insists on taking her girlfriend for a ride on her dragon.

A/N: Just a cute quick imagine to tide everyone over until I have a chance to really get the other imagines done. Work has been crazy for me lately but I am taking a small vacation in the coming days so I’ll have more time to finish. Please enjoy this snapshot for the lovely Laena until then. It’s shame there’s not more written for her and that she didn’t get much screen time. Let me know what you think! xoxo

A/N pt. 2: The Baela imagine is coming down the pipeline. This is a separate one I was working on.

“She’s going to devour me whole Laena,” (y/n) protested and dug her feet into the dirt.

Laena laughed as she tugged (y/n) down the dirt path. “You’re being silly, love.”

(Y/n) whined. Laena stopped and turned around to face her girlfriend. Laena cupped (y/n)’s face.

“I will not let any harm come to you. You know that right?”

(Y/n) nodded. “It’s just…. she’s so large, and she lived through Aegon’s conquest. What business do I have riding such a creature?”

Laena smiled. “Vhagar was once a dragon of war but she is tired and fussy now. She more like an old cat.”

(Y/n) closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she felt her lover’s soft lips against her own. Instinctively, her hands wrapped around Laena’s waist. Laena was always so warm, and she always smelt of the sea. For others that smell might be a nightmare but for (y/n) it reminded her of the peace she felt by the seaside. (Y/n) opened her mouth to let Laena deepen their kiss, as Laena liked to do.

But this time she did not. Instead she pulled away and let her forehead rest against (y/n)’s.

“Please…I want to share this with you. I want to show you the world how I see it,” Laena whispered.

(Y/n) softened. How could she say no? (Y/n) nodded.

Laena smiled.

Together they made their way down the path until they reached the clearing where Vhagar slept.

She was larger than (y/n) had thought she would be. (Y/n) swallowed the nerves itching in her throat. She would not deny Laena the gift she wanted to share with (y/n).

“Peace Vhagar,” Laena called out.

Vhagar opened her eyes then the aged dragon shook her head,then her neck, then the rest of her body. Finally, she huffed before letting out a low hum. Laena tugged (y/n) and brought her next to Vhagar. Laena raised (y/n)’s hand up to Vhagar’s skin.

It was softer than (y/n) had thought it would be. (y/n) thought dragon skin would feel like lizard skin. Touching Vhagar soothed (y/n)’s nerves. If the formidable creature had not eaten her up when she touched her maybe she would be okay.

Laena watched (y/n) with a smile on her face.

“You’re a natural,” Laena whispered.

(y/n) blushed. “Only because you’re here with me.”

Laena wrapped her arms around (y/n)’s waist. She placed a quick kiss on (y/n)’s cheek.

“Are you ready to climb on?”

(y/n) swallowed hard then nodded. “I think so,” she replied.

So Laena let go of (y/n) then climbed onto Vhagar using the various ropes and ladders tied onto Vhagar. She turned back and helped (Y/n) do the same.

(y/n) landed on Vhagar’s saddle with a thump. Laena laughed.

“You okay back there,” she asked.

“I’m fine,” (y/n) replied as she tried to get comfortable.

The saddle was just big enough to hold both women, but it was a tight fit.

Laena handed (y/n) a strap of leather on each side of her.  “Wrap these around you then tie them. You’ll be strapped in with me.”

(y/n) did as Laena instructed. “Okay.”

Laena grabbed Vhagar’s reigns. “Also, you’ll want to hold on tight.”

(y/n) was about to ask Laena why when she felt Vhagar stir. She quickly wrapped her arms around Laena’s waist.

She had done so just in time. Laena shouted a command in high valyrian and Vhagar started to flap her wings. The wind whipped (y/n)’s hair in her face.

Soon Laena and (y/n) rose up into the air.

(y/n) shut her eyes and buried her face in Laena’s shoulder. Laena turned her head.

“You don’t have to close your eyes love. It’s not as scary as you think,” she said with a smile on her face.

(y/n) sighed and slowly opened her eyes. Then she slowly turned her head to see that they were already high above the clouds. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open.

“It’s....,” she began but was cut off by the sheer beauty of the sky surrounding them.

“I know,” Laena whispered.

(y/n) could never have imagined seeing Driftmark from so high above. She could see everything.

Vhagar flew straight for a while longer. Laena told (y/n) she wouldn’t command any tricks or fancy moves until she adjusted to flying. (y/n) thanked her girlfriend by placing a tender kiss on the side of Laena’s neck.

Then, when (y/n) finally felt brave enough, Laena commanded Vhagar to go faster.

Vhagar was old and large but she was still quite speedy. She flew faster and faster. Butterflies filled (y/n)’s stomach and chest. But she wasn’t scared. (y/n) smiled.

“This is...like nothing I’ve ever experienced before,” she confessed.

Laena let out a laugh. “Is it safe to say you like riding on a dragon?”

“Yes,” (y/n) shouted as Vhagar had dipped down close to the water’s edge and the sounds of the ocean drowned out her voice.

After riding around all of Driftmark, Laena directed Vhagar back to her resting place in the clearing near the castle. Laena hopped down the dragon and helped (y/n) climb down.

(y/n) tried to stand on her own but her legs buckled underneath her. Thankfully Laena reached out to steady her just in time. Both women laughed as they walked back to the beach.

Once there Laena suggested they watch the sun set together. (y/n) agreed, as it was their favorite thing to do while at Driftmark.

So the pair sat in the warm sand, with (y/n)’s arms around Laena, and they watched the sun slowly set.

Laena turned to (y/n). “So, do you want to join me on dragonback when we all go to King’s Landing tomorrow?”

(y/n) burst out laughing. Laena swatted at (y/n)’s arm. “What is so funny,” she demanded to know.

(y/n) collected herself. Then she tucked some of Laena’s curls behind her ear.

“My love, I don’t think I could handle another ride on Vhagar. I am sore in places I have never been sore before.”

Laena frowned. “So you didn’t like it?”

(y/n) shook her head. “No, I loved being up there with you. I loved seeing you so comfortable and free. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so at peace before.”

“I’m at peace whenever I’m with you,” Laena said before leaning in for a kiss.

(y/n) welcomed her lover’s lips against her own. She cupped Laena’s face with her free hand and tightened her grip on Laena’s waist with the other.

Then Laena climbed into (y/n)’s lap and straddled her just as easily as she had hopped up on Vhagar’s saddle.

(y/n) settled her hands on Laena’s hips, pulling her closer to her.

Laena deepened the kiss. (y/n) lungs started to burn but she wouldn’t dare stop kissing Laena.

It wasn’t until they heard a voice call out to them that the girls pulled apart.

Laena searched for the voice calling to them. Then she found Laenor on some far away dunes.

“It’s time for dinner Laena,” he shouted.

“We’ll be there shortly,” Laena shouted back.

Laenor nodded before turning and going back the way he’d come.

(y/n) tried to catch her breath as she stared up at her girlfriend. Laena hovered over (y/n) and ran her thumb over (y/n)’s cheek.

“I want to keep kissing you.”

(y/n) smiled softly. “We can do that after dinner.” She gave Laena’s buttocks a small pat. “I’m starving.”

Laena returned (y/n)’s smile as she shook her head. “Then let’s go before Joffrey finishes your favorite meat pie.”

Laena got off (y/n) and helped (y/n) stand up. They laced their fingers together and walked hand in hand all the way back to the castle.

Just before they walked inside Laena stopped and turned to (y/n).

“Will you never go on dragonback with me again?” She asked, nerves settling about her temples.

(y/n) let out a breath. “I would not say never. I just don’t think I can handle being in the saddle for more than a few minutes.”

Laena nodded. “Okay...” Then she put her hands on (y/n)’s hips and pulled her close. “We will just have to practice riding until you are an expert.”

(y/n) furrowed her brows. “How will we do that?”

Laena placed a quick kiss on (y/n)’s lips then whispered into her ear. “I can think of a few ways to strengthen your thighs,” she said with a devilish smirk on her face.

(y/n) felt her face grow hot, and she felt a wave of desire wash over her. She met Laena’s gaze. “Laena,” she chided.

Laena laughed and opened the castle doors. She walked inside, leaving (y/n) at the threshold in shock. “You will have plenty of practice riding me before you’ll hop in Vhagar’s saddle again. I promise!”

(y/n)’s face burned. She chased after her girlfriend. “Laena! Your father, or worse your mother, could hear you.”

Laena continued to laugh and (y/n) continued to scold her, their hands laced together and their hearts dancing as one.