#this is the only way to get them both to shut up

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP

✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them

✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗

✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗

reblogs are really appreciated! :D

RHYSAND

No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.

Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard

You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing

Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.

“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”

“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.

He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.

“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.

He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.

“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.

“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.

You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.

“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.

ERIS

Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.

He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet

Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.

“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.

After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.

He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.

The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.

Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.

It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.

Only after an hour of silence does he speak

“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”

He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”

You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”

The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.

Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you

“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”

CASSIAN

“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap

“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.

His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.

His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that

“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest

He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.

A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.

“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.

He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.

You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.

LUCIEN

There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two

One look between you two is enough.

Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.

“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.

“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.

“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.

“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”

“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.

“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”

“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.

“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.

AZRIEL

Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.

It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.

It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.

Azriel especially likes the fuck part.

He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy

He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once

Fucking torture is what it is honestly

“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”

“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”

He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.

His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly

Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.

“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone

In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.

He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗

[moviestarmartini]

mirrors. — jude bellingham x reader

summary: your boyfriend is adamant in showing you why you have no reason to be insecure.

wc: 1.8k

warnings: midsize!reader, insecure!reader, nsfw (18+) , unprotected sex (don't ♡) , mirror sex, lots and lots of compliments, soft dom!jude, fingering, creampie, happy ending.

A/N: this is a quick read since that one scene in bridgerton got a bit of muse back from me!! thank you to all the girlies (gn) who dropped by la sobremesa to beg for jude lmao. i have a few other requests i may or may not honor hehe but enjoy!!

The door to the hotel room slammed shut, and you felt as though it might have rattled the whole building. You couldn’t hear past your panting and deafening heartbeat, not knowing what to do but pace around. 

You’ve come to learn in that gala that, even though it wasn’t likely, people on the internet were kinder with their cruel words. Nothing could compare to the looks of disdain you got as you hung around your boyfriend. It didn’t make sense, you’ve been dating Jude for almost two years, and nothing compared to those models and influencer types staring you down. 

You muttered something to him earlier about having a tummy ache, leaving the event and heading up to the shared hotel room in the same venue. You didn’t even catch the beep of a card being swiped on the door, your stupor too high to notice your boyfriend approaching you concerned. 

“Love…” His voice started softly, effectively startling you half to death. But his brows furrowed softly as he noticed your panic, taking your hands in his. “What’s wrong? Tell me— no, wait, let’s breathe.” He squeezed your hands and guided your breathing with large intakes and exhales until your bottom lip effectively stopped quivering. 

“Do I embarrass you?” You couldn’t help but ask, a baffled expression growing in his face before the realization settled in. 

“Oh, honey,” He cooed in a sigh, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Those women are just envious. If you didn’t mind them, you would know I spent all night looking at you and only at you.” 

“But—“ You tried arguing, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“No, none of that.” Over time in both your friendship and subsequent relationship, Jude had given you confidence that had pushed you forward in every aspect of your life. He looked around the room trying to find a device to get his point across, his face softening landing his eyes on the full body mirror next to the balcony. 

“C’mere.” Jude pulled you towards the item, his hand gently on yours. His hand opened to guide you to stand in front of it, staring at your reflection. He stood behind you, his hand on your waist. 

“Look at you…” His voice was soft but still sultry. “You’re perfect. The way your curves hug that dress perfectly anyone would think it was made for you and nobody else.” A smile twitched in your mouth, but the whispering flashed by from one ear to another, snapping you out of the temporary happiness. 

“It’s just us here, okay?” He could read you like an open book, his other hand gently cupping your jaw to maintain your look towards your reflection. “It’s also how your skin is so soft it shines under the light.” The hand on your waist ran up your exposed arm, forming a trail of goosebumps on the skin. 

“And all those other parts of you I worship constantly.” He leaned in to place his chin on your shoulder, looking back at the two of you. 

“How are you so sure?” Your chest heaved but for a completely different reason once you asked sheepishly, a smile forming in response before he put the words out there. 

“Because you’re the love of my life,” He replied simply. “Besides, we’ve been together for so long, you’re my reflection. And I’m yours.” He kissed your cheek delicately before parting ways with your body. 

But everything was long forgotten already by you, turning around to pull him into a kiss. His hands found the way to your waist, pulling you close briefly before he broke the kiss. 

“I love you more than anything in this universe.” He brushed his nose against yours before twirling you around to face the mirror again. “And you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” 

While a hand pinched the bottom of the zipper, the other pulled it down painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact through the mirror. The gown soon pooled at your feet, and it was as if he took a moment to admire the work of art in front of him; you were wearing just heels and panties, your nipples hardened from the sudden cold of the room. 

He didn’t even need to say anything, his eyes did the talking. 

Jude leaned closer to kiss your neck, slowly, never breaking eye contact. He held you closer to his body with a hand resting on the soft pouch under your belly button. You thought you could melt into a puddle right then there, chest heaving as you noticed his hand lower even further and into the tiny piece of underwear— worn so it wouldn’t show with the dress. 

“This pretty pussy is also so perfect.” He whispered in your ear, his slender fingers pressing against your clit. “I want to make love to you, with one condition.” 

“Yes?” Your voice quivered, letting out a loud exhale at the way his lips curled into a snarky smile. 

“It has to be facing this mirror.” 

You didn’t even notice when you nodded, or when you sauntered over to the bed and laid on it per his request. It all felt like an out of body experience until he tugged off the tie, starting to strip in front of you. 

You couldn’t help but smirk as he unbuttoned the expensive white shirt, the sound of his belt coming undone made your mouth water. He removed his shoes before taking off the pair of slacks, taking slow steps towards you before leaning down to kiss a trail up your stomach, chest, throat and up to your lips. 

You moaned into the kiss as he laid on top of you, pinning your hands over your head. “Perfect,” He breathed out between kisses, “And all mine.” 

His hand sneaked under your panties again, teasing your wet entrance with two slender fingers before pushing one first past your entrance. “F-fuck— Baby,” You squirmed, your back aching against his bare chest. 

“Feels good, right?” He asked softly, pumping his finger in and out, his boner pressing against your upper thigh but he seemed too focused on working his magic. 

You nodded between moans as he slipped another finger past. You’ve done this a thousand times already, but why did this time feel so… different? Your senses were clouding with each expert twist and tiny thrust he was giving you, the underwear practically ruined with your slick. 

But he suddenly stopped, leaving you distraught as he removed the tiny item of clothing, taking off his underwear to match. No matter your weight, it was surprising how easily he could manhandle you, switching so you laid on top of him. 

“You know what to do, love.” He cupped your face, and you nodded, taking his leaking cock in your hand to line it against your entrance. 

You watched as he closed his eyes, almost squeezing them shut at your light teasing. You smiled before pushing him in completely, a groan escaping both of your lips once it was fully inside. 

You rocked your hips, noticing how he had opened his eyes. Moans left your lips as his arm reached up, taking a hold of your jawline to tilt your face up. Once again, you met your eyes in the mirror, your stomach sucking in. 

“Look at you,” He cooed. “You’re perfect when you ride me.” 

You gave yourself a good look and couldn’t help but agree. The way your tits bounced with every rock of your hips was enticing, and now you felt like an idiot for even listening to the gossip downstairs. 

After all, you were the one you had the man of their dreams under you, groaning with every bounce of your body on his cock. 

“What’s that look on your face?” He noted breathlessly, and you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head. Yet again, without any words, he understood you perfectly. “There she is.” He winked up at you, holding you down to take his entire length. You groaned, noticing him shifting his weight to switch your bodies. 

Now you laid under him, and you couldn’t help but notice once again how huge he was. His biceps morphed together could easily be bigger than your head. 

You reached out to caress his face, “I love you so much. I’m so lucky to have you.” You admitted breathlessly as he started thrusting again, much faster than the speed your hips had established a mere second ago. 

“No, I’m lucky to have you.” Jude insisted, kissing your hand. “My perfect girl…” 

The build up to your orgasm lasted a few seconds. You were so concentrated on everything else to notice how close you were, only doing so when your stomach squeezed in. “Jude…” You warned, lips parted. 

“Do it baby, cum on my cock.” He approved with a nod, quickly throwing one of your legs over his shoulder in order to gain an angle to touch your sensitive clit. 

The moans got caught in your throat, and you caught your calf spasming from the pleasure. The brain fog from the pleasure was too much, enough for you to not notice Jude pulling out and easily manhandle you into laying in your stomach. He pulled your hips slightly up to gain the perfect angle, following his hand wrapping your hair in a fist and pulling you up to meet your eyes in the mirror once again. 

“Look at you,” He cooed once again, and frankly, you looked overwhelmed in the pleasure he was giving you with each deep thrust, the sound of skin coming into contact filling the room along with the creaking of the bed and the sounds you both produced. 

From the stuttering of his hips you could hint he was close too, but it wasn’t until he posed the question that you actually realized it. “Where do you want it, hm? Want me to cum all over your ass?” He groped the skin before giving sharp spanks, the surprise making you gasp. 

“No!” You shook your head, “Cum inside, baby. Please.” You knew very well it was a trick question, and the mumbled praises he shot were the confirmation as he leaned in to kiss the back of your shoulder. 

Similar to the previous one, your orgasm completely caught you off guard as it washed over you suddenly, the squeezing of your walls being the catalyst for your boyfriend’s own orgasm which he honored both of your wishes by filling you up with the thick white ropes of sticky liquid. 

It took you both a second to ride off the highs, Jude rolling over to lay at your side. 

“We should’ve fucked in the bathroom downstairs so everyone heard us.” You commented mindlessly, laying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. 

At the sound of your boyfriend’s cackles, you couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, you really loved him. And he really loved you, too. 

[chosows]

YOUR SWEET BOYFRIEND FINALLY SNAPS…

Choso x Fem Reader

Summary: Recently in your relationship, you have taken on the more dominant role in the bedroom, letting the power trip get straight to your head. Choso is growing sick of his words being shut down every time he speaks, his emotions finally spilling as he can no longer control everything he bottled up.

Word count: 2.1k

Contains: Established relationship, smut, oral sex, cunnilingus, angry sex, penetrative, spitting, jealousy, degrading, aftercare

Note: first smut i’ve made w/ no plot ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) — divider creds in tags

Tension is heightening while you’re both in bed, straddling Choso as he lies helplessly underneath you. He allows you to take whatever you need from him; he hardly ever puts up a fight. Your hands wander under his shirt, grazing over his toned set of abs while rocking your hips against his boner. Those innocent eyes he gives you provide you with the verification that this man worships the ground you walk on.

“I want—” He reaches his hand out towards yours but you swat it away, continuing to rock your hips against him while planting pecks on his neck.

“Not now, Choso.”

“But—” Trying to get his words out was no use—you wouldn’t listen either way.

“No.”

Sensing him shift, you pin his wrists down and continue your motions, whining as the build-up of friction becomes too much. There was a thin line of material between your panties and his boxers, leaving a wet patch where you had been the longest. You felt his pre-cum ooze as the wet patch spread, knowing it’s not just your slick anymore.

One thing that Choso has yet to tell you is that he hates the feeling of being taken advantage of. It’s never his way; it’s always yours. Even though you had him wrapped around your finger, there was only so much he could take before his pending outburst was to be released. He broke free from your hold and shoved you off of him, sending you backwards. Your head was inches away from colliding with the metal footboard, confused as to what was happening.

With a firm grip on your ankle, he drags you forward and looms over you, the light in his eyes darkening. From your cherished boyfriend to a man you can’t recognise, you were unsure whether to be frightened or concerned. His chest was heaving, cheeks still a bright shade of fuschia. When you went to roll away, he crushed your arms down; the weight he was exerting made you wince, prompting him to snicker.

“Doesn’t feel nice, does it?” Choso slings his shirt off, making slipping yours off light work. Displeased with your bra, he takes it off and rummages through your lingerie drawer, pulling out a red lace one and putting it on you. Tonight, you’ll be exactly to his liking.

“What—”

“It’s always you. You never ask me what I want.”

“I didn’t think—”

“You don’t even know what I like because you never let me do anything.”

With no words left to speak, you remain silent while his index finger traces circles on your inner thigh. You assumed he was satisfied because he never complained, but what he is saying is true; you have never directly asked him what he would like to do for a change. He grunts, his dick desperate for attention; he can’t let himself crack for you again, not now.

Pushing his feelings aside, he lowers his face and dots kisses on your abdomen, lowering himself slowly until he comes in contact with the fabric of your panties. Using his teeth, he drags the material down, now lying exposed in his line of sight. Wasting no time, his tongue darts to your clit; your initial reaction was to close your legs, but he pried them apart while tending to you the way he had in mind. 

Choso craved your pussy; it was his favourite thing to relish in before you got too comfortable in your bossy ways. The noises coming from his mouth while he worked you up to a climax were obscene; you have never seen him so unhinged. He was pushing himself further, the grip on your legs causing them to tingle from the lack of circulation. You were gasping, unable to control the feeble moans; for the first time in a while, you felt weak. Before you could cum, he pulled away, staring up at you with your slick smeared around his lips. His hair was ruffled, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“Greedy bitch,” Choso scoffs, closing your legs while he tugged his boxers down, “Now look who’s fucking soaked. Going to cum? Doing the same thing you constantly ridicule me for.”

“Got anything to say for yourself? Or have you already said everything while you were belittling me for being turned on by you?” Choso scowled, his tone bitter. Everyone has their limits, though you had no idea how far you were pushing him.

Choso lines his tip up with your soaked entrance and forces his way in, not bothering to allow you time to adjust like he usually would. All of his anger is pouring into his actions, his thrusts harsher than the words he lashed out at you with. His head drops down while he fucked you, cursing your name as your cunt squeezes around him. Unable to support himself properly, he switches his position, now hitting deeper inside of you while his mouth rests close to your ear.

“Bet you wish I was that guy you always gawk over in the supermarket.” He grunts, pressing his sweaty forehead into your shoulder while the force of his thrusts increases, “He’d never be able to give you what I can.”

“You want him? Yeah?” Choso grabs your jaw while pulling back to glare down at you, watching you feebly shake your head in disagreement.

Using his thumb, he pries your mouth open and spits, watching how your eyes widen. He covers your mouth with his hand and pinches your nose, forcing you to swallow if you want to breathe. When he sees your throat move, he removes his hand from your lips and wraps his fingers around it. Your eyes well with tears from how reckless he’s being, a side you never expected to see.

“I don’t want him to look at you anymore. I don’t want you to look at him. Look at me.” He orders. Your eyes snap up and lock with his—vision becoming blurry.

“Good. You’re doing so good, taking me so well.” He hums, voice now silvery while your doe-like visuals twist.

“My pretty girl. You like it, don’t you? Like how I’m fucking you—shouldn’t be such a spoiled bitch all the time; look where it gets you.” Taking his words in, your brows furrow; it was as if you were disagreeing with him without saying any words.

“Don’t think you’re spoiled? I let you ride my dick every time you beg; I give you everything while expecting nothing in return—but I can’t take it anymore. You’re so ungrateful.” Choso grunts, letting a whimper slip as he feels your orgasm release. Your cum aids as lubrication, allowing him to slide deeper while you babble useless nonsense. He’s fucking you senseless, giving you the same treatment you serve him.

“Wish you’d just— Why can’t you—” He struggles to get his words out, unable to control the sounds he’s making, “Would it hurt you to show me that I’m actually appreciated?”

“I want to feel loved too, you know?” You notice Choso’s eyes watering as you come down from your high, your hand rubbing up and down his arm.

“I love—” You bite your tongue as your senses come back to you, recognizing the point he’s hitting will send you over the edge, “—Love you so much.”

“I didn’t ask you to talk.” Choso shakes his head, reaching for a pillow to cover your face. At this point in time, he doesn’t want you to look at him.

“This is my time—not yours. Every single hour of my life is yours; just let me have this.” His mouth dries up and his hands begin trembling, acknowledging the wreck he’s falling into.

“Fuck— I’ve never had you like this before. You’re so pathetic.” His emotions are a mess, now chuckling as a tear slips from his eye, “Didn’t know you liked rough sex. You told me you liked it gentle.”

“Why did you lie to me?” Choso’s thrusts become sloppy, rutting into you as he feels the coil in his core preparing to unravel.

“You know what? I don’t care. You never care, so why should I? Why should I have to care about everything—” 

Choso’s orgasm peaks, shooting cum deep inside of you while he presses his head to the pillow covering you. He mutters under his breath while holding himself inside of you, more cum spurting out despite the lack of movement. You had drained him, both emotionally and physically. He removes the pillow from your face and keeps his eyes low, providing you the chance to glance at his dishevelled appearance. In a swift motion, he stands and storms off to the bathroom, leaving you curled up on the mattress. You were sore—unable to fully decipher what happened due to the extreme mix of emotions he shared with you. You reach for his shirt and bundle it up, snuggling it tightly to your chest. 

Inside the bathroom, Choso wipes himself with a damp cloth, removing the droplets of sweat on his body. While he looks at himself in the mirror, he recognises that the situation expanded beyond his original intent. While it’s known he’s far from perfect, he tries his best to hide the jealousy he harbours. His communication has never been his strong point, and that’s something he labels to be his greatest weakness. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way, but he couldn’t help himself—he had finally burst with everything he had been holding back.

Making his way back into the bedroom felt like his ankles were tied with lead, as if the floor was swallowing him whole with every step he took. You feel the mattress dip and his cheek press against your back, the volume of your sniffles advancing.

“Hey,” Choso leans over you, moving your chin to face him, “I never meant to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

Since you remained silent, he pressed his lips to yours, trapping you in a gentle and sincere kiss. His thumb rubbed your delicate skin, wiping away the tear marks running down your cheek. Knowing he’s the person who hurt his beautiful girl breaks his heart—though he won’t allow himself to feel pity. His way of handling his outburst was unethical, but it was the only way he felt he could get the words he was struggling to say out.

To his surprise, you lean forward and wrap your arms around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He supports the back of your head and lies down, allowing you to rest on his chest while you regulate your current state. In this given moment, Choso felt like he truly was your boyfriend; whenever you needed comfort, you would isolate yourself, claiming he didn’t need to see you like that. It was as if you pictured him as an incapable manchild, but something in you had changed.

“I do like gentle sex. And I am sorry—I’m so sorry. I was being selfish; I liked that feeling of power I had over you, but I overdone it.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m an asshole for making you feel like this is your fault. We do need to talk though.” He smiles softly, stroking your stray hairs down.

“I liked seeing you like that.” You sheepishly divert your gaze, locking your fingers with his.

“What?” He chuckles, tilting his head to attempt to see you eye to eye.

“Just a little.” 

“Maybe if you let me fuck you properly you’d like it more, yeah?” He pinches your cheek, watching your grin widen, “Let me have a say sometimes. I wasn’t aiming to yell at you; you just never listened to me.”

“I know. M’ sorry.” You pout your lips, wrapping your hand around one of his fingers and waving it side to side, “You said you liked assertive women one time and I—”

“I do. I don’t like a boot camp general though.” After saying that, the endearing sound of your laughter causes his lips to quirk up, “You need to tone it down a few notches.”

“It’s my first time doing that whole dominant thing—we probably should’ve spoken about it before I thought I was doing it right.”

“That’s fine; I don’t want you to feel bad about it. I still enjoyed it—you just wound my nerves up over time by ignoring what I was trying to say.”

“By the way, the only reason I look at that guy is because I’m convinced he checks you out every time we go to the store. He’s not my type, but I think you might be his.”

“Oh shit, I never knew. Maybe it’s best if we switch supermarkets; it’s getting messy.” Choso sits back against the headboard, pulling the blanket over your bare body.

“If it makes you feel better then I don’t mind. You’re the only man I gawk at, for your information.” You lift yourself up, hovering close to his face.

“Let’s make sure we keep it that way then.” His voice was hushed, drawing you into a kiss while pulling the blanket over both of your heads.

[diorhoon]

oh, snap!

❛ jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. it’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you.❜

summary. you and jake sim might have been best friends once upon a time, but not anymore. now, you barely talk to each other—so you decide to prove the universe wrong when you find out that he’s your soulmate, because there’s no way both of you are compatible.

pairing. jake sim x gender-neutral!reader genres. fluff, angst; childhood friends to lovers!au, soulmate!au, college!au word count. 7.0k

warnings. profanity, sexual jokes, alcohol consumption, some amount of soulmate lore that i made up ⇢ this is for the anon who requested a soulmate!au with jake! i hope you like it :)

The universe has to be fucking with you.

You aren’t one to believe in manifestation or the law of attraction or whatever other nonsense your TikTok feed provides you with. You think it’s a total waste of time, energy, and resources. 

Right now, however, you’re manifesting with all your might—eyes screwed tightly shut, hands clasped in front of your chest, only one thought running through your head: Please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be Jake Sim, please don’t let it be—

You open one eye cautiously. You lift up the pinkie finger of your right hand equally carefully. 

Fuck.

You drop your hands and let your head fall onto the desk in front of you. A dull thud echoes around you, and normally, you would be apologetic since you’re at the library, but because you’re wallowing in self-pity you can’t bring yourself to care. A frown mars your forehead. Maybe you’re manifesting wrong. Is that even a thing? Perhaps you should ask your friend Yizhou how to do it; she’s pretty popular on Instagram so surely she’d have some idea. Maybe one of her fellow influencer friends is a manifester. (Is that what they call it?)

You lift your head up and stare morosely at the red thread twined around your little finger. It winds down the floor, swirling and looping in gentle curves. You glare at the person it’s connected to.

Jake Sim, that little piece of shit.

The object of your disdain is seated one table away from yours. He’s hunched over his laptop, occasionally scribbling something into the messy notebook in front of him. His glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every time he pushes them back up, you feel a tug on your finger. 

This brings you to the following question: Does he not know you’re his soulmate?

You have three answers. One: He knows, but he doesn’t care. Two: He doesn’t know. Three: He doesn’t care.

The second option is rare but not unheard of. There have been several cases where people vehemently deny the existence of soulmates and refuse to believe in it. Such people never get to see the red thread that is wrapped around their finger, even though it exists. Truthfully, you feel bad for the people on the other side of the thread—the non-believer’s alleged soulmate. They will forever watch from afar, never going too close, but never straying away either. It sounds lonely, more than anything else. 

You push that thought away. If Jake doesn’t know, it should be a good thing, right? You don’t need a soulmate to survive. You can just continue with your life as it is—attending classes, hanging out with your friends… Yeah, you’re happy with everything you have.

Another tug at your pinkie forces out an annoyed huff from your mouth. You glare at the perpetrator, still engrossed in his work. To be fair, you didn’t know Jake was your soulmate until very recently either. You knew the thread existed but didn’t know who it was connected to. When you were younger, you and your friends would have tons of fun pulling at the thread to annoy your unknown soulmate. Getting a pull back was a source of glee for seven-year-old you. Now, it just fills you with dread.

“Oi.” Someone’s breath tickles your ear.

“Fucking hell!” 

You swat at your best friend’s face, successfully smacking his cheek. Taehyun grunts in pain. “Uncalled for.”

“What the fuck, Taehyun?” You grouse. “Don’t scare me like that. Sorry ‘bout your cheek.”

The boy rolls his eyes, sitting down on the chair next to you and dumping his tote bag on the table. “I’d feel better if you actually meant your apology. Also, why aren’t you studying? Our midterms start in a week and staring at Lover Boy isn’t gonna help you pass your classes.”

“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “And I was… studying.”

“Right. That’s exactly why none of your books are open.”

“Shut up, people are staring.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment. You’re not wrong—people are staring. Well, specifically, one person. You flex your little finger a little, straightening it out and then bending it again. If Jake feels any sort of yank, he doesn’t show it. Not that you’re interested, of course. You’re just… observing. So is he, clearly. He peers over his glasses at you both, his expression not betraying anything.

You flinch when Taehyun pinches your side. Turning back to him, you’re ready to yell at him for being an annoying asshole, when he fixes you with a pitying sort of look. You swallow.

“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t overthink, okay? He’s alone right now, you might as well talk to him about this.”

You blink uneasily, eyes flitting between your friend and the unopened book in front of you.

“How long are you gonna avoid him? You’ve been hiding this for months. And… he has a right to know,” Taehyun finishes, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.

You swallow again, around the lump in your throat that’s been sitting there for months. You found out that Jake was your soulmate months ago. Yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to confront him or tell him about it. A far cry from the whole entire concept of soulmates—isn’t he supposed to be your missing puzzle piece? Certainly not, if you’re too nervous to even approach him. The universe must have made a mistake. Whatever higher being exists must have assigned you to the wrong person.

Taehyun is right, though. (You’re not going to admit it to him, of course; there’s no need to boost his already inflated ego.)

Jake Sim does have a right to know that he’s your soulmate. 

You shift uncomfortably. Taehyun drops his gaze with a sigh. “I know you two have a history but can’t you just sort this out?”

“I… can’t,” you say lamely. 

Your best friend looks sadly at you. You look away, fidgeting with the cover of your textbook. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a girl make her way to Jake’s table. He perks up immediately, greeting her with a soft smile. She sits down next to him and grabs Jake’s laptop, angling it towards her like it’s second nature. It probably is, you think bitterly.

Another reason why you can’t tell Jake Sim about this whole Situation: He has a girlfriend.

Park Chaerin meets your eyes and waves at you cheerfully. You wave back, feeling sick to your stomach.

You press the tip of your pen into your notebook, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Even the half-empty cup of coffee next to your laptop has done little to wake you up. Morning classes are the bane of your existence, and as a night owl, you vehemently dislike getting up early. Your professor rattles on about an assignment due in a week. You stifle another yawn behind your hand.

Feeling a yank on your little finger, you press the palm of your hand on the desk and ignore it. Jake Sim is sitting right next to you—courtesy of both of you having arrived five minutes late, and the only seats left were in the last row. Your Friday 8 a.m lecture on the Quantum Theory of Electromagnetism is normally interesting, but Professor Jang makes even the most stimulating topics seem dry. You usually end up resorting to self-study sessions in order to understand everything. 

Jake is scribbling something next to you. He’s probably doodling. He used to do that a lot when he was little, too. You recall pages upon pages of maths notes interspersed with tiny drawings of dinosaurs and dragons in the margins. They had made you laugh at the time. 

“Hey,” he whispers.

You blink.

“Hi,” you say.

Jake grins at you—and you’re dazzled, for a moment. It’s been so long since you’ve had that smile of his being directed at you. You’ve seen him smile at other people on campus—his new friends, his girlfriend, acquaintances—all from afar, and you push down the bitter sting of rejection that pricks you every time. After so many months, it feels like you were in a pitch-black room all this time, and someone suddenly turned on the lights. It’s blinding.

Your former friend caps his pen and leans back in his chair. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer. Just to be polite, you add, “...Did you?”

“Kind of.” Jake winces.

“Oh.”

“I was trying to understand the topic before this. Y’know—” he meets your eyes expectantly— “the whole Kronig-Penney model and the Bloch function and all that. I spent, like, two hours on them,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh, uh, yeah, those are kinda difficult,” you offer.

You’re still perplexed by this whole situation. Admittedly, after weeks of minimal contact with your childhood best friend, this isn’t how you imagined your reunion would go. All awkwardness aside, however, it feels… nice, talking to him again. It’s hard to move past the last few months, but there’s nothing wrong with this, right? You can think of it as two classmates bonding over a hard course they willingly chose. Two classmates who’ve known each other since they were toddlers just learning to walk, but you deliberately don’t think of that.

Jake hums. “The graphs get super confusing.”

“I guess,” you say. 

He leans forward abruptly, elbows knocking on the edge of the desk. His stare on you is intent, focused. “Is your number still the same?”

You gape at him, mouth open like a blown-out fish. “Uh… yeah. Why?”

“So I can text you if I don’t understand anything,” Jake says simply, easily, still sporting that same easygoing smile of his. Your stomach twists into knots, and you force yourself to appear calm and not like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I think you should’ve asked me first,” you manage to say.

He looks at you strangely, a dip in his eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”

Why, indeed.

Jake has known you for years; this is an undeniable fact. Even now, he probably knows you better than anyone else does—or ever could. So there’s absolutely no way he can’t make sense of the stifling awkwardness that surrounds you both.

However, the same holds true for you: You know Jake Sim just as well as he knows you. You know he’s trying to bridge a gap, make amends in a way only he does. You would be a fool if you didn’t take it in stride.

You crack a small smile. “Fair enough.”

He picks up his pen and twirls it between his fingers idly, before saying, “I’ll text you about other stuff, too.”

“Okay.”

“Great.”

Jake is all smiles and sunshine. He starts doodling again—what looks like a misshapen traffic cone of some sort. You look away, and tuck this little slice of goldenness into your rapidly rabbiting heart. 

This is not good. You pay no heed to the thread around your little finger, and pick up your own pen. Angling your notebook away from your deskmate, you begin to write.

REASONS WHY JAKE SIM CANNOT BE MY SOULMATE FUCK THIS SHIT IM OUT

#1. he doesn’t know you as well as he should (okay, maybe he does)

You have no clue how you ended up studying with Jake Sim and Park Chaerin, of all people.

Your own friends, Kang Taehyun and Kim Gaeul are utterly nonplussed at this new situation. You give them a helpless shrug when they elbow each other and raise their eyebrows at you. The library is fairly empty at this hour, which makes it an ideal time to study without the distractions of other people. Of course, you didn’t consider the two people who’ve decided you’re a physics expert and require your guidance.

You humour them because you’re a nice person—not because you’re weak to Jake’s entreaties and his offer of buying you food for a whole week.

Chaerin smiles at your friends. “Hey, guys! Come join us.”

Taehyun is the first to blink out of his confusion. He moves forward, pulling out the chair opposite yours and settling down. “Thanks. We won’t bother you guys much.”

Gaeul nods her head. “Yeah, I have a bunch of assignments to finish.” She chuckles nervously, smoothing out her hair.

“No problem,” Jake supplies. “Your friend is super smart.”

Taehyun raises his eyebrows, pointing an incredulous finger at you. “You mean…?”

“Hey!” You swing your leg and kick Taehyun’s shin from under the table. He winces in pain. Gaeul giggles, and so does Chaerin. Jake lets out an amused snort.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” you say, “this bit isn’t that important from a test point of view, so just go over it to get the general idea.” You mark the paragraph you were referring to with a pencil.

Chaerin and Jake nod in tandem, like a pair of bobbleheads. You bite your lip to stifle your smile—they’re so perfect together, it’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jake’s end of the string was connected to Chaerin’s instead. Is that even possible? You’ll have to google it up.

The thought puts a significant damper on your mood, and you turn away, drawing back from the pair sitting next to you. 

Instead, you lock eyes with Taehyun, who’s glaring at you with enough intensity to drill a hole through your forehead. Talk to him, he mouths. You give him a small shake of your head.

You can’t talk to him about anything serious. Explaining physics to him and his girlfriend in the presence of your own best friends is a sort of safe zone; you don’t have to discuss anything personal whatsoever. All you have to do is prattle off a list of formulae and derivations and graphs, and hope that what you’re telling them to study is actually going to be asked on your midterm next week.

Taehyun rolls his eyes so hard, you wonder how they haven’t popped out of their sockets. He’s exasperated, you can tell—and Gaeul has probably been receiving the brunt of it all, because he would never outrightly say he’s upset with you. He would rant to Gaeul instead, trusting that she would tell you everything he told her but more nicely. That’s how your little trio circles back to each other.

You shift uncomfortably. Gaeul catches your eye and gives you a small, sympathetic smile. Your lips twitch upwards slightly.

“Wow,” Chaerin says, “I can’t believe we finished a whole unit in, like, one and a half hours.” She directs the next part to you. “You’re really smart. Don’t listen to Taehyun.”

“Y/N doesn’t listen to me anyway,” your friend grumbles. Gaeul hides her snort behind her styrofoam cup of coffee.

Speaking of which, you could really use some caffeine too. Anything to get away from Jake Sim and his quiet, knowing… aura, is the word you settle for. He wasn’t always this quiet—he used to be loud and raucous when it was just the two of you in high school—so while this new development isn’t surprising, it certainly is jarring.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you announce to the table at large. “Anyone wanna come with?”

“I’ll come,” Jake says immediately. “I owe you for teaching us.”

“Oh, um.” You attempt to smile. “I—”

“Please go,” Taehyun says suddenly, his tone beseeching. “I need coffee too but I don’t trust Y/N to not put salt in mine or something.”

You gape at him, betrayal flooding your features. Gaeul snorts again. Chaerin just looks at you and Jake alternately. Jake’s lips twitch upwards. “Y/N still does that?”

You whirl around to face him. “What?”

“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Gaeul pipes up. “Do elaborate.”

“I second that,” Chaerin adds. 

You feel your cheeks and the back of your neck heat up. You want to implore your former best friend to keep his pretty mouth shut, but your ego doesn’t let you grovel in front of three other people. Jake raises his eyebrows, lips parting to form a small ‘o’. He smiles, a little bit sheepish. Before he can say anything, you intervene.

“That was one time, Taehyun!” you snap. “And it was by accident. Why would I willingly put salt in your coffee?”

Taehyun raises an eyebrow at you, but inside, you know he’s laughing uncontrollably at your predicament. “Who knows? You might wanna poison me for being cooler than you.”

“What is this, high school? And why the fuck would I want a murder on my hands? I’m too young to go to jail.”

Chaerin tries to muffle her giggles with her hand. Both you and Taehyun turn simultaneously to look at her. “Sorry.” She giggles again. “You two talk like an old married couple.”

“Gross,” you say, at the same time Taehyun draws out an, “Ew,” and extends the last syllable like a child in kindergarten.

“Oh my God,” Gaeul says. “Chaerin, you’re a genius. I see it too.”

“Not you too,” Taehyun groans.

The two begin bickering again, and Chaerin joins them with enthusiasm, adding her own little tidbits of support for Gaeul in between the conversation. During all this, Jake remains remarkably quiet, an amused smile tugging on his lips. 

You turn to him, a rush of sudden embarrassment making your cheeks heat up. It occurs to you that he’s never seen you like this—laughing and joking around with your friends. Friends that don’t include him. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Let’s go get coffee.”

“Okay.” 

You and Jake push your chairs back under the table and exit the library. The coffee shop is two storeys down, so you make a beeline for the staircase. Your former best friend follows you, his undone shoelaces slapping on the tiles. He still doesn’t tie his shoelaces properly, then. Perhaps he hasn’t changed as much as you thought.

“Hey, by the way,” he says, “I was gonna tell Taehyun about the time I put salt in your coffee.”

“...I know.” Your answer is short, clipped. You force your shoulders to relax—there’s no need to tense up when Jake Sim is around.

“Oh. Uh, okay then.” 

You don’t look at him, but you’re fairly certain he’s doing that thing he always does when he’s feeling awkward: A little rub of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. It’s a tic he’s always had, from the time you were in elementary school, and it isn’t any different now.

A stifling silence falls upon you both. You almost wish Taehyun and Gaeul were here, bringing Chaerin with them in tow. The three of them seemed to get along well; the chances of the five of you hanging out outside of college are high, now.

Of course, that also means you and Jake will have to pretend like everything’s alright between you both, and that your decades-long friendship wasn’t shattered by one single argument.

You round the corner to the staircase and begin the descent downwards. Jake holds onto the railing on the other side. Despite everything, you think Jake is the braver one between you two. 

He breaks the silence as easily as he broke your heart, and asks:

“Do you still take your macchiato with two packets of sugar?”

“Yeah,” you say softly.

#2. he wants to be friends again (why?)

You blame Kang Taehyun for this.

Of course he had to forget to pick up the pizza from the local restaurant before coming back to his place. Of course he didn’t check the weather forecast beforehand, and even if he did, of course he didn’t tell you it was going to rain. Of fucking course he asks you to pick up the food for him because your classes only ended at 4 and the get-together to celebrate the end of midterms was at 4:30.

If you had the power, you would curse your best friend to oblivion. You grip your phone in your hand, gritting your teeth and staring down at the screen.

Group Chat: the holy trinity of dumbasses 🤡

[16:12] You: it’s fukcing pouring here and i didnt bring my car

[16:12] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): *Fucking

[16:13] You: yeah it’s something you’ve never done before [16:13] You: i have the pizza [16:13] You: come and pick me up or im throwing it in the dustbin.

[16:14] gaeul 🤍: u shouldn’t waste food y/n >:(

[16:14] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): You’re making Gaeul cry >:(

[16:14] gaeul 🤍: girl what

[16:15] You: aw cute [16:15] You: seriously tho [16:16] You: come pick me up

[16:17] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): OK, I’m on my way

[16:17] You: FUCKING FINALLY [16:17] You: also [16:18] You: @ taehyun (mega asshole 🤬) i want u to know that if we were living inside jujutsu kaisen even gege akutami wouldnt be able to inflict the kind of horrors im gonna inflict on u

[16:20] taehyun (mega asshole 🤬): ??

[16:21] gaeul 🤍: LMFAO [16:21] gaeul 🤍: can’t help u out here taehyun 😔

The plastic bag with all the pizza boxes dangles off your wrist, cutting into your skin. The steps that lead to the inside of the restaurant are slick with rainwater. You open Instagram and scroll through your feed mindlessly, clicking on your classmates’ stories. 

You shiver. Rainy weather always makes the temperature drop by several degrees, and your flimsy jacket isn’t enough to drive away the chill. Forget Taehyun, maybe you should’ve checked the forecast instead. Sometimes (read: most of the time) you can be just as stupid as him. You wonder how Gaeul puts up with the single brain cell you and Taehyun toss between each other like a hot potato.

Honestly, you just want to go somewhere where it’s dry and warm.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and it takes you a whole minute to comprehend the name that shows up on the caller ID.

Jake Sim.

Why is Jake Sim calling you?

You chew on your lip nervously before swiping your thumb up and accepting his call. Bringing your phone to your ear, you let the plastic bag sway gently. The line is silent for a few seconds, as though neither of you can comprehend the fact that you’re on a call with each other. It makes sense; this is the first time in months he’s calling you.

Finally, Jake’s voice crackles over the speaker. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I’m outside. Can you see me?”

“I, uh.” You look around quickly. The parking lot in front of you is mostly empty, a good chunk of people having escaped the rain. It’s not hard to make out the solitary figure standing outside a beaten-down Toyota, holding an umbrella aloft. “Yeah, I see you.”

“Oh, good,” he says. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“Nope. Just… pizza.”

Jake makes a noise that sounds like a warbled chuckle. “Okay, I’m coming over there.”

“...Okay.”

For some strange reason, you don’t feel like ending the call. You fumble for something to say, because it’s weird just being on a call with someone you can literally see. The tug on your little finger as he comes closer to you makes a lump form in your throat. You take a deep breath and push it down into your stomach. 

“You haven’t changed your car,” you say lightly.

Jake hums, the sound so familiar it doesn’t even surprise you until you register it. “Can’t afford a new one. Plus, it works decently.”

He strides over to you, and it’s unnecessarily sexy—the way he holds the black umbrella up with one hand and his phone to his ear with the other. You can see the speckles of rain on his grey hoodie where the raindrops bounce off the ends of the umbrella. His hair is swept to the side, lips pink with chapstick. Another yank on your pinkie finger; you clench your fist.

“Please,” you snort. “The last time I was in it, it took twenty minutes to start the engine. That was a year ago, Jake.”

He’s closer now, nearing the steps. His eyes don’t leave yours. They trace over all your features, as though he’s committing you to memory—you, with your tangled hair and tired eye bags, chapped lips and dirty sneakers. You swallow.

He puts his phone down and speaks to you directly. “I think that was the driver’s fault. But don’t worry, I can drive better now.”

You let your hand drop limply to your side. 

“Hi,” Jake says.

“Hi again,” you manage to say.

“Here, let me take that.” He reaches out for the pizza bag, but you don’t give it to him.

“It’s fine. Just… hold up the umbrella and don’t get us wet.”

Jake laughs, a short, bright sound. “I won’t.”

You step towards him, quickly slipping underneath the shelter of the umbrella above your head. It’s a tight fit—one of your shoulders pokes out, as does one of his. You grimace when your sleeve gets splattered with rain.

Jake leads the way to his ancient car, scratched and scuffed with years of use. It was his dad’s old one, a gift for him on his seventeenth birthday, one that his mom had told you about to surprise him with. It seems like a bygone history now.

“I thought Taehyun was gonna come,” you comment.

Jake looks at you strangely. “I thought you asked for me to come pick you up.”

“I… did?” You gasp at the realisation. Kang Taehyun, that fucker. “I’m sorry,” you say awkwardly. “Taehyun probably told you that I was stuck in the rain.”

“He did,” Jake confirms. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s not a problem at all.”

“Oh… okay, then.” Still, you feel guilty. Jake came all the way in the rain just because your best friend couldn’t stop being a meddling little nincompoop.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Jake continues. His voice sounds deliberately casual. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“...Yeah. I guess.”

Jake stops near his car, fishing around in his pocket for the keys. “Look, I—I know things haven’t been the same lately, but I—” he licks his lips, another nervous tic of his— “I want you to know that I never stopped thinking of you as my best friend. Okay?”

You blink, sucking in a breath sharply. “I, um, yeah. Yeah, okay,” you say lamely.

Jake nods once, not meeting your eyes. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve found friends like Gaeul and Taehyun. They’re good people.”

“So is Chaerin,” you say. “And so is Sunghoon.”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling faintly, unlocking the door. “And so are you.”

Sometimes, you wonder if Jake also feels a pull on his little finger. If he does, does he ever wonder where it’s from? Or does he not feel it at all? You bend your finger and shuffle into the passenger side of his car. He closes the door for you before crossing over to the other side and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Whatever the case is, one thing is for sure: Jake Sim is your soulmate, and even if he wasn’t, you’d still be in love with him.

Just like you were one year ago.

#3. his parents adore you (and so do you, but there’s always the yearning and the aching)

“Hey, mom and dad are asking when you’re gonna visit again.”

Jake swings into your periphery, putting his phone back in his pocket. His mom had called about fifteen minutes ago to make plans for Jake to go home over the weekend. Potentially, you could also go—your childhood home is right next to his. It’s been a while since you last visited; your little sister sends you texts about how much she misses you.

He sits down on the chair next to yours, looking at you expectantly. You’re at your favourite spot in the library, one that’s been designated as you and your friends’ table. Jake and Chaerin have been officially integrated into your tiny trio; Gaeul and Chaerin get along really well, and Taehyun and Jake follow the same sports teams. Occasionally, their other friend, Park Sunghoon, joins you but he’s very quiet and mostly keeps to himself.

You don’t look up from your laptop screen when you answer, “I’m not sure.”

“Huh. Mom says you’ve said that to your mom every time she asks.”

Things between you and Jake have reached a semblance of normalcy, too. It’s not the same as it used to be—it can never be the same as it used to be—but at least the pang you feel in your chest whenever he talks to you has dulled somewhat. 

“I’ve been busy,” you say vaguely. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Jake retorts. “Our midterms were over a week ago. What’re you waiting for?”

You don’t reply. He waits for a moment before saying, “I could drive you.”

That gets your full attention. Your gaze snaps to him, mouth pressed together. 

“I mean, we literally live right next to each other, Y/N,” he continues. “It’ll save gas. And the environment.”

You snort. “Your car is more of a hazard to the environment than us not carpooling is.”

“You don’t know how to drive,” he deadpans.

“That’s not true! I can drive, I just choose not to. Saving the environment and all.” You point an accusing finger at him. “If you really care about the environment, you should take the bus home with me.”

Jake shrugs loosely. “I don’t care how we go home, as long as you come with me. I’m sure your sister misses you too.”

There it is again: That easy, light way he says things. Nonchalant and unaffected—though it affects you more than it should.

“You’ll pay for the tickets?” 

Jake’s grin is golden. “If that’s what it takes.”

That’s how you find yourself crammed in between Jake Sim and an old auntie with a flower-patterned bandana, on the bus back to your hometown three days later. The auntie gives you and Jake a few cookies she’d packed for her grandchildren, and then promptly falls asleep on your shoulder (Jake couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes when he saw the line of drool she’d left on your shirt sleeve). He offers you his own shoulder in case you want to sleep too; your cheeks heat up at the thought. It’s a bumpy ride, but after stopping at the bus stop nearest to your house, Flower Auntie sends you off with a few more cookies and a box of homemade kimchi, and you and Jake begin walking back to your neighbourhood.

Some things have changed—the playground is being renovated, your old elementary school is being repainted, the Kims who owned the local ramen shop retired and set the place up for rent. But at its heart, it’s all the same, you think. Kids still run around holding warm bungeoppang from street stalls and cartons of strawberry milk from the convenience store. Their mothers sit around and gossip about celebrities and complain about their husbands. People working corporate jobs curse under their breaths about their bosses and their unforgiving schedules. It’s late evening when you arrive, a bag containing all of Flower Auntie’s goodies hanging off Jake’s arm. All the local eateries are opening up for the dinner rush, drawing people in with the offer of free beer and soju for every meal purchased. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jake says, a fond smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” you agree softly.

Despite everything, it’s still home.

The two of you cross the streets to your houses, sneakers slapping against the pavement. Several neighbours who’ve seen you both grow up call out and wave hello. You’re stopped by Mrs. Lee’s son, Heeseung, who makes you both promise to go out for dinner with him tomorrow. 

Finally, you stand in front of your childhood home. The rusted door and peeling-off painted greets like you like a best friend. You shoulder your backpack and ring the doorbell, saying goodbye to Jake as he walks into his own house.

The door swings open—only to reveal Mrs. Sim standing at your doorway. Before you can voice your confusion, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling your name into your hair.

“Welcome home,” she says, moving aside and letting you in. “Your mother is in the kitchen. She’s just started making dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” You grin. “It’s great to see you, Mrs. Sim.”

“I swear you love Y/N more than me.”

You turn around and see Jake standing by the door, an affectionate look in his eyes. You direct your grin at him, too.

“Suck it up, loser.”

Jake’s guffaw rings in your ears even when your sister screams with unabashed joy as soon as she sees you.

#4. he broke your heart once (he could do it again)

You stare at the red thread wrapped around your finger. It’s dulled a bit now, compared to how it was a few years ago. Some of its shine is lost; it looks more opaque now. You crook your finger experimentally, knowing it's futile but still holding on to some hope that maybe Jake will feel it too.

To live for the hope of it all, as a wise song-writer once penned.

You startle when Jake sets a mug of coffee in front of you. His house is empty—your mother and Mrs. Sim went to buy groceries together and his father is out of the city on a business trip. Your sister is hanging out with her friends but told you to call her if you needed anything.

“Here you go,” Jake says, sitting down on the chair next to you. “Have some and then we can go buy some hangover soup.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, curling your fingers around the mug and savouring its warmth. The liquid inside is not too bitter, but not too sweet either—just how you like it.

“Feeling any better?”

You wince. Going out for dinner with Heeseung meant drinks were also attached. Being back in your hometown after weeks meant you had to check out all your favourite restaurants again and visit the ones that popped up after you left for college. The result: You swallowed down entirely too much soju, Heeseung and Jake had to physically carry you home, your head is killing you right now, and your embarrassment is at its peak.

When you woke up in the early afternoon to texts from your family members detailing their various absences, you reluctantly made your way out of your bedroom and to the Sims’ place. 

Which brings you here, perched on a chair at the Sims’ dining table, fiddling with your red string of fate, while the object of your thoughts sits right next to you.

“Yeah, a little,” you murmur in response to his question.

“Good.” Jake stretches his arms above his head, exposing a sliver of his midriff. You swallow. “Your alcohol tolerance is still the same.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” you counter. “You didn’t drink more than one bottle of soju.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were counting?”

You huff, ignoring the warmth that spreads to your cheeks. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m just joking,” he says, bringing his hands back down. “I was kinda surprised Heeseung has a girlfriend now.”

You hum, taking another sip of your drink. Your head still pounds, but the caffeine is kicking in and making you more lively. It is strange, though, seeing your childhood friend settle down. Judging by the way he talks about her, he’s completely smitten. She’s my soulmate, he had said, and I don’t even believe in my thread.

The memory makes hurt bubble up inside your throat, so you chug the remaining liquid in the mug.

“It’s nice, though,” Jake continues, something… wistful crossing his face. “I wish I had someone like that.”

You look away, staring down at the ring of coffee left on the wooden table from your mug. “Yeah, I guess… Aren’t you dating Chaerin, though?”

You bite the bullet—what’s the point, anyway? There’s no use in dragging it out. Not when he clearly doesn’t know that his soulmate is sitting right next to him. You can deal with the hurt that comes with rejection later.

Jake stills. You glance at him—he tilts his head confusedly. “Chaerin? No… What makes you think that?”

“Everyone said you guys were dating,” you say with a small, uncertain shrug. 

“I mean…” He blinks. “We hooked up once, but that’s really it.”

It’s your turn to blink now, bemused. “Huh?”

“Yeah, we were drunk and it just sorta happened? I dunno,” he says sheepishly. “We didn’t remember any of it later, so we just agreed to remain friends. Plus, her soulmate is Sunghoon.”

“Wait, what?” Your teeth worry your bottom lip. Your mind is swirling with questions—was it possible that you had misread Jake Sim all this time?

“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s no big deal.”

“...Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things,” you apologise quietly. Despite all this, his words make a swell of optimism rise in your chest.

He shrugs. “I, uh, wouldn’t blame you. We didn’t talk much after… after everything.”

“Yeah.” Your admission is soft, regret burning a hole in your tongue.

“So, um…” Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself. That’s a first, you realise with a start. He’s usually so calm and collected, even in the worst times. “Do you still feel the same as you did a year ago?”

You suck in a breath. “Why—why would you ask me something like that?”

“I—just curious.”

His eyes land on yours, beseeching and glorious. Even when he’s just woken up, he looks like he’s been dipped in the sun’s golden rays. Your heart hammers inside your chest.

“Wait, can I ask you something else? Why… did you reject me that night?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re transported back to that fateful evening in July. It was outside the library, a few days after you found out who was on the other end of your red string of fate. The answer didn’t surprise you. It would always be Jake. 

You stuttered the words out, and explained that he was your soulmate. With every new sentence you tacked on, the emotion on Jake’s face vanished. Towards the end, you felt your face crumble.

He left you alone on the pavement, broken-hearted and lovesick.

Jake clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so harsh on you that day.”

“I don’t care about that, Jake,” you say simply. “I just want to know why.”

“Because I was stupid. I didn’t believe in the soulmate bullshit, so I thought you only wanted to be with me because you thought I was your soulmate. I—” He licks his lips before continuing— “The truth is, Y/N, I really, really like you… And I was a selfish idiot who wanted to win you over—without all this meant to be shit.”

If you weren’t sitting already, you’re sure Jake’s confession would have swept you off your feet and you would be a bumbling mess on his dining room floor.

“So I rejected you. It was… more to do with my pride than to do with my feelings for you.” He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping. “It’s still the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

You finally find your voice. “Jake…”

He laughs somberly. “You probably think I’m an asshole.”

“I could never think that,” you say firmly. Your hand finds his on the tabletop, and he laces your fingers together, staring at your connected palms with awe.

“I do think you’re a little bit dumb, because I’ve liked you too since, like, forever—”

“Define forever,” he interrupts, not unkindly.

“Well—maybe since the time you surprised me with all the physical copies of that book series I wanted for my fifteenth birthday?”

“Then,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’ve loved you since before forever.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth. You feel a tug on your little finger as Jake moves his hand away from yours and cups your cheek with it instead. “I’ve also wanted to kiss you since before forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, drawing closer to you.

You lean forward and capture his lips with yours, running your tongue along his bottom lip. He parts his mouth with a sigh, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His other free hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck; you wind your arms around his neck. The position is a bit cumbersome—the edge of the chair digs into your thigh, and he nearly knocks his elbow on the back of his chair—but his touch is searing hot, the welcome kind, the kind that makes you crave more and more and more.

“You promise you won’t do it again?” you ask later, out of breath and flushed.

“I promise,” he says, and he links his pinkie finger with yours to seal the deal.

The thread tied around it glows golden.

 #5. he doesn’t even believe in soulmates (but he’ll try)

“You can’t see it?”

“I’ve told you a million times already,” Jake says patiently, “but I can’t.”

“How?” You look at him dubiously. “It’s literally a glowing golden thread connecting you and me.”

“I don’t need a thread to connect us,” your boyfriend quips. “I can think of better uses for a rope.”

You make a sound of disgust. “We’re at the library.”

Jake Sim grins at you, all bright and shining and vivid. “So?”

Taehyun lets out a pointed cough, typing on his laptop. “There are other people here,” he says, motioning to Gaeul, Chaerin and Sunghoon. All three of them are very obviously avoiding your gaze. Even the tips of Taehyun’s ears are pink. You stifle a giggle.

“Sorry,” Jake says, not sounding sorry at all. He picks up your hand again, thumb brushing against the knuckle of your little finger, right above the knot where the golden string is tied. He whispers to you, next, “I just don’t believe in it.”

“I know,” you say. “But you’re missing out on a lot.”

Jake hums. “I don’t believe in soulmates. But I believe in you.”

You roll your eyes, ready to chew him out for being a sappy romantic again, when his next words make your heart stutter.

“I think that’s good enough for me.”

don’t forget to do your daily click for palestine!

[leilanihours]

# SHE WAS CRYIN' ON MY SHOULDER, ALL I COULD DO WAS HOLD HER

pairing: paige bueckers x ex gf!reader

word count: 851

warnings: arguing, crying, mentions of abandonment/past relationship

summary: you and paige both have things you need to get off your chests one year after you break up.

⭑ from lani: to that anon i told my next fic would be for kate im so sorry 😭 i was crying to this song earlier and i just needed to write paige to it - so heres my first ever angst fic i hope its not horrible 😛

"Y/N, YOU LEFT me, remember? you left!"

"you didn't even bother to stop me, to fight for me- for us!"

neither of you knew how this escalated so quickly. how a friendly reunion turned into a screaming match.

"it's not my job to pick up the pieces of the shit you broke! so i'm sorry if i didn't feel like working myself over for someone who had no issue leaving."

you know her apology is insincere, sarcastic. but for a split second when you hear her say "i'm sorry," your heart aches for the words you've spent the past year mourning.

"paige," you sigh, trying to calm down before you say something you don't mean, "i know it seems like it, but i did not want to leave the way i did. i didn't have a choice."

"bullshit-"

"can you just be quiet and let me talk?" you snap, immediately shutting her up, "last summer when i disappeared, it was because of my parents. they forced me to come home to them even after i told them i wanted to stay here in connecticut. i swear to you, paige, i fought for us. you didn't see it but i went through hell fighting. and i'm sorry for ending it the way i did but, paige...we were bound to end it at some point. we both knew that. i had to go home eventually."

you both had tears streaming down your faces at this point, chests heaving from not being able to breathe properly.

you stood in front of paige, slowly pacing back and forth as she sat with her arms crossed on the cold park bench absorbing your words.

the darkness of the night engulfed the atmosphere, contributing to the inevitable breaking of your once-intertwined hearts. the only light was dim from the far away lamp post, rusting away from its former beauty - similarly to how you and paige used to be a work of art together, but were now nothing more than a mess of spilled emotions and pent-up grudges.

"and i understand that, y/n, but i deserved an explanation- a goodbye, at the very least. or at least i thought i deserved that."

"don't do that," you challenge, referring to the way she degraded herself in front of you, "is that why you didn't try? to save us?"

"why else wouldn't i? i thought you hated me, i thought-" she pauses to catch her breath and wipe some of the tears that had fallen on her pink lips, "i thought you didn't care about us. as if that summer didn't mean shit to you."

"paige i-"

"no, now it's your turn to listen," she demands, pulling you to sit next to her on the bench, both of her cold hands holding yours, "i never felt so strongly about someone the way i felt about you. i couldn't imagine spending my time away from you, i mean, it literally hurt. so i took advantage of that summer, i took advantage of the little time we had together. and then when i found out you left without a word to me, it broke me. and i know you didn't see it but ask literally any of my friends. i didn't get out of bed for days in a row. i didn't eat, i didn't practice, nothing. it was like you stole the good parts of me, took it, and ran. i needed you, y/n, but you were on the other side of the country. what am i supposed to do with that?"

she's full on sobbing now, shoulders shaking as she doesn't even try to hold in her tears now. you swear you can hear cracks in your own heart and bones forming as she confesses what she went through.

you can't bear watching her suffer anymore, tightly wrapping your arms around her shaking frame. hugs like these were second nature, but this time was different. there was more meaning behind it.

your embrace acted as a shield against any future problems that were to be thrown onto your paths. your embrace acted as a glue repairing the broken pieces of your relationship that laid destroyed for the past how many days. your embrace acted as a genuine embrace.

"paige, i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry, baby, i never wanted to leave you, you have to know that. i'm so sorry," you whisper into her hair.

one of your hands stroke her head buried in your neck. you feel her tears drip onto your thin jacket, soaking you with guilt as it hits you how desperate you were to spend the rest of your life making it up to this girl.

it was clear to you that she actually did care, unlike how you thought last summer. and because of how she was crying on your shoulder, you needed to forget about that version of her you spent so long hating - the version that constantly haunted the back of your mind.

you needed to hold her. and hold her. and hold her. and never let go.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hey! May I make a request for Dazai? I would love to see him a flustered mess just because someone is taking care of him? Kind of like a mommy kink but somehow deeper? I don’t know, but I love your writing! Thank you for loving subs!!! 💚💚💚

Ahhh, thank you my dear, I’m glad you enjoy my works <33 since you didn’t specify on what exactly, I’ll only write the tension/ foreplay part

Dom!reader x sub!dazai - reader is gender neutral

Warning: teasing, a little body worship (from reader), praise kink (?), use of pet names

“Hey… no need to treat me like a princess alright?”

Dazai chuckled nervously, hiding his eagerness behind a calculated smile. He thought the two of you were finally getting into the mood, so he jumped onto the bed, waiting for you to devour him. Instead of getting what he expected, you started collecting the nearby pillows and putting them beneath him. One beneath his head, his neck and his waist. You tried your best to make it comfortable for the male, smiling gently as you reassured him, “I know you are strong, sweetie, I just want to treat you right.”

His arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer while you kissed his face. First the tip of his nose, then his cheeks. Each time you did so, he clenched his eyes, blushing slightly when he noticed your hands around his body. Dazai couldn’t resist the chance to tease you, scoffing in amusement, “Hah, you were acting so gentle but you are a pervert in reality, aren’t you?” He could feel your fingertips trace the outlines of his body, each nook and cranny has been caressed by your light touch. It tickled him, it made him feel tingles bloom wherever your skin made contact. As if fireworks exploded inside him, encouraging him to plead you for more.

“If it makes you happy, you can call me that.” You responded to his remarks, not letting it bother you as you kissed his neck. The feeling of your lips brushing along his jaw all the way to his Adam’s apple ended with him breathing heavily, fingers intertwined with his own ones, holding onto you as if you could disappear in any moment. “Stop it with the games, you’re making me impatient.” Dazai snarked again, now glaring at you through lustful eyes. You can’t just rile him up and do nothing, can you?

Instead of obeying his little tantrum there, you rested your hands on his hips for a moment. Rubbing your cheek against his tummy and kissing his bellybutton. He stared at you with needy eyes, almost on the verge of begging you to do more. Then you licked that area, causing him to jump and trash around slightly. “Hu-hmm? Ahhh, stop it with the teasing!” How mad he sounded, but it was so adorable in your eyes. He was like a defiant cat.

You grinned at him, then answered with, “just lay back and enjoy, I’ll take care of it baby, I’ll make you feel good~” it wasn’t a promise, it was a statement. Just that alone was enough to shut him up. His eyes trembled in anticipation, awaiting what you had to offer with curiosity and excitement. “I.. haha..I hope you will then.” Slowly he was running out of words, not knowing what to say in opposition to your smart counters.

After getting his consent, your hands trailed lower, now holding his thighs and squeezing them. “Such a pretty boy for me.” Then you raised them and clasped them over your shoulder. “Hah?! Wait- that, this position is.. ughh!!” Poor baby didn’t even have time to adjust and think and you were already manhandling him however you wanted. It has gotten difficult to continually wrap his arms around your neck, so he let them fall flat onto the bed. Now they served a different purpose, this time clenching the sheets as his face flushed into a bright crimson.

The mating press huh...? But the both of you were still clothed. How embarrassing. Dazai pressed his lips tightly shut, sweat forming on his forehead at the realisation. You on the other hand seems to be enjoying yourself, one hand now slowly peeling off his disheveled clothes. “Try to stay still, I’ll take care of you alright?” Again, you smiled at him, bringing forth a sense of comfort. He has noticed this for a while now, you kept doing everything on your own, ending with him not having to do anything. It was a strange feeling. Sure, he enjoyed lazing around, but actually having someone who took everything off his shoulder was new.

Suddenly he avoided your gaze, legs shaking as they tangled behind your neck. “Hm? What’s this, are you alright darling?” He jolt, yelping a little as he replied, “I-I’m fine. Just, all the blood has been flowing into my brain you know.” Well well, he was quick to think of good responses, you had to give him that. “I see..” you said, then you stroked his hair. “As long as you are liking this, i did say I’ll make you feel good.” A giggle followed soon after you finished your sentence. “Ah.. yea.” Damn it, why was communicating getting more difficult by the second? He was so embarrassed for no reason! All you did was being close to him, touch his hair and body, as well as whisper some sweet words… why was he already such a mess?

Of course his flustered appearance didn’t escape your sharp eyes. You leaned down again and kissed his lips, catching him off guard. It was only a small peck, but the brunette looked like he was about to explode. Even he was wondering what was wrong with him. Normally he wasn’t like this! He was acting like such a fool right now, as if he was still a virgin~ Oh but by no means you minded. Goodness, you adored this cute side of his. Ah.. there was no helping yourself, he was too adorable for you to hold back. So you uttered in an almost suspiciously sweet voice, “I’ll treat you so well today dazai, to the point you’ll need me to take care of you again tomorrow~”

Luckily he didn’t need to use his legs, otherwise he would have stumbled and crashed down. Because he just knew his knees were going weak in that moment.

[hynzsn]

bullies ★ jaehyun + taeyong

jaehyun + taeyong x male reader 18+ MDNI

contents: smut, bully!jaehyun x victim!reader, bully!taeyong x victim!reader, rough sex, domination, hair pulling, spitting, dacryphillia, double penetration, dirty talk, degrading, manhandling, tormenting, controlling, cock sizes, forcing, choking, gagging, oral fixation??, slapping, restraining, facial, cumpie, rimming, foreplay, corruption, training, sadism, ejaculation, frotting

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

✮⋆˙ your relationship with them is characterized by fear, manipulation, and a twisted power dynamic.

✮⋆˙ as their main target, you’re expected to literally worship the ground they walk on. you’re their little sex slave, nothing else. you’ll let them use your body whenever and however they like. and if you don’t, that’s okay, they’ll only force you into submission.

✮⋆˙ they love to torment and control you.

✮⋆˙ they love double penetrating you!! the sight of you completely struggling to take both of their cocks at the same time, the way your hole stretches to accommodate to both of their sizes, the whimpers and cries you let out, they love it all!!

✮⋆˙ they love to switch sex positions! one of them fucks your ass, and the other one fucks your mouth! or jaehyun fucking your ass while taeyong takes your cock up his ass!

✮⋆˙ despite their joint power over you, they secretly desire for more. they both want to be the one who completely owns you, they can’t let the other have more control or power.

✮⋆˙ they like to compete with each other, even going as far as both of them trying to outdo the other; which only ends up with your body being even more physically drained and spent than usual. often telling you to choose between them; who’s cock do you like more? who fucks you better? who’s sexier? etc…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

✮⋆˙ strictly a dominant top!!

✮⋆˙ a complete powerhouse

✮⋆˙ manhandling and strength kink!! he will literally overpower you in any way shape of form so it’s futile to even try fighting him or defying him. pinning you down, wrapping his arm around your neck and holding you in place whilst he takes you from behind, etc…

✮⋆˙ dacryphillia kink!! gets aroused from hearing and seeing you cry, knowing that his cock is too big for you to take.

✮⋆˙ heavily sadistic

✮⋆˙. not a big fan of foreplay, he doesn’t care much to do anything with you other than fuck your hole. you might get a little kiss if he wants you to shut up but that’s it. don’t worry though, he does lube you up before wrecking you >.<

✮⋆˙ he will fuck you roughly and hard —no soft moments, no in-between, nothing. his only desire is to use you as his personal fuck toy.

✮⋆˙ big cock!! 8 inches, thick and veiny. knows how to use it like a complete beast. ejaculates a normal amount, nothing too crazy.

✮⋆˙ his favorite part of your body is obviously your ass.

✮⋆˙ he loves to fuck you from behind and watch as your legs tremble and your knees give out due to the pure power and speed of his thrusts.

✮⋆˙ he loves to push you up against the wall, pressing your cheek against the wall as he fucks you from behind.

✮⋆˙ always makes sure to degrade you and make you feel pathetic for not being able to take his cock.

“fucking pathetic little whore,” he spits as he smacks your ass cheek, his large hand leaving its imprint. “look at how weak you are, can’t even come back on my dick without shaking.”

“looks like you need more training. shouldn’t slutty bitch boys like you know how to take cock?” he asks as he pushes your head into a pillow, your moans and whimpers becoming muffled. his thrusts start to become more aggressive, more powerful as his balls slap against your ass. skin slapping, moans, whimpers and crying.

✮⋆˙ he has a rather normal libido. can go for maybe 1-2 rounds but always settles for one when he’s alone with you. that one round is always enough to leave your body completely sore, drained and spent.

✮⋆˙ he loves to either cum inside your ass or your mouth. he won’t settle for cumming anywhere else.

✮⋆˙ he prefers cumming inside your ass though, the sight of it dripping down from your wrecked hole gives him a sense of superiority, like he’s won.

✮⋆˙ he loves to see you struggle to breathe, gagging and crying as he shoves his cock down your throat.

✮⋆˙ an absolute feen for rough sex; pulling your hair, slapping your face + cock + ass + literally anywhere and everywhere he can reach.

✮⋆˙ he’ll reach around you and guide his hand to your hardened cook whilst he’s fucking you from behind, pumping your cock in rhythm with his thrusts. at least he’s a little generous and let’s you cum too.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

✮⋆˙ switch!! dominant top / power bottom (leaning more towards power bottom)

✮⋆˙ average-sized cock!! just under 6 inches, a bit skinny. can still use it to dominate you completely and give you a good fuck. ejaculates a rather large amount.

✮⋆˙ has a high libido and can go for several rounds.

✮⋆˙ spitting kink! he absolutely loves to spit! deems it probably the most humiliating thing ever. randomly getting the urge to find you and just spit in your mouth, watching as you swallow it. or spitting in your face whilst he’s fucking you, or when he’s on top of you, riding your cock. likes to spit on your hole, whilst he’s rimming you. likes to spit in his hand and smear it over your cock before riding it. also likes to do the same with his own cock before fucking you.

✮⋆˙ he enjoys foreplay!!

✮⋆˙ he likes to frot with you!! he will rub his cock against yours during foreplay.

✮⋆˙ more of a sweet talker, but his voice always has that same condescending tone to it.

✮⋆˙ loves to ride your cock mercilessly, milking you for everything you have.

power bottom!tyong — you were sprawled out on the bed, your legs spread wide as taeyong lowered himself onto your cock. “look at me, baby, i don’t remember giving you permission to break eye contact.” taeyong began to ride relentlessly, his hips moving in a steady rhythm as he took all of you deep inside. your breath quickened as he picked up the pace, his body moving urgently as he chased his pleasure. his hand reaches to wrap around your throat, tilting your chin to face him. “let me see how pathetic you look, when i’m riding your cock, sweetheart.”

dominant top!tyong — taeyong grips your hips, slamming into you with a relentless rhythm. his eyes are dark with desire, his lips curled in a cruel smile as he watched you squirm beneath them. “what’s the matter, baby? is taeyongie’s cock too much for you?” your breathy moans fill the room, your hands clutching at taeyong’sback, nails digging into his skin. taeyong leans down, his lips hovering over your ear as he whispers, “it’s a shame. i thought you would’ve been used to my cock by now. guess i haven’t been fucking you enough.

✮⋆˙ a complete mastermind. uses his keen intellect and sharp wit to manipulate you to his advantage.

✮⋆˙ attracted to intelligence and enjoys engaging in intellectual debates or mind games with you.

✮⋆˙ finds pleasure in restraining you. and secretly, he loves to be restrained too, if you’re a good slut for him, he might just let you tie him up.

✮⋆˙ he gets satisfaction from humiliating you, especially in specific contexts, such as role-playing scenarios; (cop x delinquent, teacher x bad student, etc… literally any scenario where he gets to be in charge.)

✮⋆˙ he enjoys exploring different sensory experiences, whether through temperature play, sensation play, or other forms of sensory stimulation.

✮⋆˙ his favorite thing about you is your cock.

✮⋆˙ his favorite place to cum is all over your face; he loves seeing your face stained in his cum. will take photos of your face to further humiliate you.

✮⋆˙ he likes to stuff his fingers into your mouth, making you lick and suck on them whilst he’s fucking you. he’s trying to make you have an oral fixation maybe??

✮⋆˙ his favorite sex position is missionary.

[celestial-grls]

Ciao Amore (part 2) - Emily Engstler x fem!reader

summary: You and Emily make up after your little fight in the best way you each know how. Smut ensues...part 1 word count: 2.1k a/n: thank you guys for being SO patient...I know yall wanted the part two to this! I've been super busy but I hope you guys like this!! Thanks for the love mwah <3

Emily kept her hand on the small of your back and returned to the hotel room. It wasn't until you both were alone in the elevator that you allowed yourself to lean against her tall frame more. The leaning, cozying up to her side with your arm firmly wrapped around her bicep, was partially from all the red wine you had and partially from how irresistible she looked. Emily was all sleepy-eyed and dark eyelashes looking down at you like you were something to eat. She wanted you just as bad as you wanted her. 

If you were more eager, you certainly showed it by pinning Emily's hips square against the inside of the door. You had to stand on your tiptoes in your heels to reach your mouth to the outside of Emily's ear. You panted, "Wanna feel your mouth on me." 

Emily wastes no time and ducks down to kiss your neck. She pulls a little sigh from you, and you can feel her mouth curving into a smirk against your skin. Her large hands are wrapped around your waist like you'll vanish into thin air if she's not holding you. 

She pauses her attack on your neck to look at you before kissing you sweetly, trying to remind you that she can be tender, too. The tenderness of the action was followed by something sinful whispered into your ear. "Need you, ma…was being so stupid before." 

This is how Emily operated: the sweet followed by pure sin. She knew what kind of effect she already had on you. Her hands slowly wander farther down, fingertips feeling the silky hem of your dress. 

You slide your hands up from Emily's hips and let them rest on her bare skin underneath the shirt she wore to dinner. You tease, "Yeah, you were." 

When Emily laughs, you can feel the warm puffs of air hit the side of your neck and start to think of how badly you want her head between your thighs. She's pulling you toward the chair and says, "Sit down for me?" 

You oblige, watching as Emily starts kneeling to take your heels off. She's an expert at undoing the little ankle strap and sweetens the gesture by kissing up the length of your legs. You're watching her like she's a feature film. Only when she ducks her head to kiss the back of your knees do you get shy on her, hiding your enormous grin behind your hands for a moment. Is it possible to want her more?

You lean forward, tilting your head to challenge Emily's lovestruck stare. You press your bare foot gently against her chest, guiding her until her back is on the floor and you can land on top of her. Of course, it's no fun if she's in control the whole time. 

She doesn't try to change positions, but you can tell by how her face gets a little slack that she's surprised. You hover over her, undoing the top buttons of her shirt. At this point, you unclip your hair, and when you lean over Emily, she can smell the conditioner you used just a few hours before. 

Your knees dig into the plush carpeting, and you straddle Emily, giggling conspiratorially to her, "I like when we kiss and make up." 

Emily holds your hips steady against her, enjoying the view of you on top of her like this. She laughs, shutting her eyes, "We have to fight to make up, baby." 

You shrug and lay on top of her, tits almost spilling out of your dress as they press to Emily's skin, "I know. Could never stay mad at you for long." 

Emily's hands dig deeper into your hips as she lifts both of you off the ground. She's smirking in the most self-satisfied way, like a cat who got the cream and slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder. Then she slides the other one off your shoulder until both tits are softly spilling out the top of your dress. She sucks in a breath, tenderly kissing your shoulders one at a time. "Couldn't stop thinking about you like this. Did I mention I'm sorry, baby?"

Y/N tugs on the cool metal of Emily's chain, the one you always lightly pull to drive her insane. You flip your hair to one side to give Emily better access to all the places you want to be kissed. When Emily's tongue piercing touches your sensitive nipples, you gasp. She takes it in her mouth, eyelashes fanning against the top of your breast. You tell her, "Want you to show me you're sorry, not tell me."

Once you say those words, it's off to the races. Emily balances that filthy mouth of hers by sweetly grabbing your waist and scooping you up bridal style. She gently places you on the bed, like you're delicate enough to break with too much force. 

She smells so good. The spritz of her woody fragrance has softened. She smells like Emily—your Emily who smells like skin, the coffee she's always drinking, and the faint smell of gel she uses to slick back her hair. 

She's naughtily running her nose along your inner thighs. Her eyes focus, zeroing in on a spot she's about to sink her teeth into. You yelp as she kisses over the little bite marks she left. 

You laugh, "Ow, Em!" 

"Sorry, baby." She sends a quick apologetic grin your way but goes in to bite your other thigh. Her hands grip your waist, fingers indenting at the curve. She sighs against your skin, "You're my girl. And you have the softest skin in the world." 

You are trying your best to be patient, but you want her now. You can feel your panties sticking to you, already wet, and she's barely touched you. 

When Emily finally touches you, you can relax from how relieved you feel. The sight of her tattooed fingers slowly sliding your panties down your legs makes you feel lightheaded. She takes two fingers to run over your slit. You already know what she's about to say as you lean up on your elbows to stare at her, touching you between your thighs. "Fuck, baby. How long have you been this wet for?" 

"Since you put my shoes out for me." 

"And you didn't say anything?" 

"You didn't apologize to me yet."

Emily laughs, "You're impossible." She gets shy, "Is this all because of me?"

You nod, "The entire bottle of wine we finished might've had a part." 

You both give each other this look that lets you know how crazy you are for each other. You couldn't have wanted your evening to go any other way. Emily slides her fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness and spreading it to your clit. You shiver in a way that lets her know you need her mouth on it immediately. 

Emily starts to suck on your button, your hips coming to meet her mouth. From this angle, you can see Emily's bareback. You're completely mesmerized by the ripples of muscles, the expanse of that blank skin you can't wait to leave scratches later. Your hands go to grip the sheets as she laps her tongue at your pulsing slit. 

Her hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you flush against the bed so she can angle her tongue flat against your clit. Emily starts speeding up when she hears you whimpering, squirming against the sheets as you get closer to climaxing. She can tell you're close by the way your eyes keep fluttering shut and the way you're taking tiny breaths in, your entire body aflame with desire. 

Emily talks you through it. "Thaaat's it. Relax for me." She noses against your clit in that way she knows gets you there and mumbles, "Want it on my tongue, ma. Mhmm." 

"Uh, Emily. Oh my god, baby. Fuck--right there! Right there." You come all over her mouth. She removes her mouth from your center to watch you catch your breath. Your eyes are glazing over like you're going to fall asleep, but they light up as soon as Emily moves to kiss you. 

You tell her, "Y'know what's so annoying about you? You're good at everything." 

"Not true. You're better at arguing than me." She sighs against your neck, letting her body go limp against yours for a second before kissing your forehead. "You're my girl. Know that right, baby?"

"Course I do. No one could make me feel like you do." Looking into Emily's eyes, searching, then the searching turns to mischief. "Wanna feel you on me, gonna make you feel so good." 

Emily thinks she's already died and gone to heaven. Your soft skin engulfing her, the plush hotel sheets, the trail of clothes discarded all over the room. Your hair looks nothing like it did a few hours before when it was so neatly clipped up. It's messy, and your cheeks are flushed like you ran a mile. 

You shift on top of her to cup your hand on Emily's cunt. Sliding your hand from her stomach into her boxer briefs. 

Emily can barely contain herself. She's grunts, "Baby, wait a sec." 

You look at her so innocently, all doe-eyed, as if you aren't rubbing circles on her clit to get her warmed up. "What is it, Em?"

It's not as common for you to have Emily in the palm of your hand like this. You can tell by the way she's trying to bury her head into your neck that she won't last long, that she's been thinking about making up ever since you guys started your argument in the first place. This argument feels miles and miles away from the both of you now. 

She lets out a contained moan, biting her fist. You whisper, "Don't have to be quiet; it's just me." 

The unassuming smile, your disarrayed head of hair, and the slow blink of your eyelashes make Emily lose all composure. She grabs your hips so that you land directly on top of her, straddling her once again. When your center meets hers, Emily shuts her eyes and throws her head back. 

Emily's completely dazed, scooping your tits up to her mouth while you grind your wet cunt against hers. She's lost in the sensation of your ass bouncing against her sturdy thighs, the slick sounds drowning out the rest of the hotel's noises. She lets out an airy sigh every time you press down against her clit; how perfectly you fit against each other. 

She's getting closer, and you can tell because she's gripping the fold of your hips and speeding you up. Her hands find their way to your waist, and she flips you over so you're directly under her. When she hovers over you, the hair around her face has come undone from her ponytail; it tickles the sides of your face when she lowers herself to plead, "Fuck, baby. Need your nails on my back." 

With Emily's muscular biceps and forearms caging you, you're surrounded by her. You're quickly crowded by her and blind to anything else but the sensation and sigh of her sloppily grinding on top of you. That desperate furrow in her brow makes you lose control, so you turn your head and affectionately leave a bite on her bicep, right where one of your favorite tattoos lies. You wrap your hips around Emily's torso to bring her closer to you, raking your nails down her back deep enough to leave scratches — ones she'll feel when the hot water from the shower hits and ones you'll get to see for the rest of your honeymoon. 

You scream as Emily sucks around your nipple, teasing the other one with her fingers. "God, Em! Yes, yes—" 

Emily breathlessly teases, "Gonna fucking come all over me? Yeah, baby?"

You can hardly string words together at this point. Emily's cunt is hot against yours, and your release is coming any moment now. Her biceps tighten and flex as she thrusts harder against you, and you come without warning. 

All you can manage is weakly whimpering, "Em, baby. Fuckfuckfuck—"

Emily comes right after, her back hunching toward you, lips finding refuge against your throat, covered in a thin layer of sweat. She shakily moans, hot cheeks resting against the swell of your breast. She tiredly presses wet kiss after kiss anywhere without having to move her head too much. Her voice is raspy and rough as she mumbles against your lips, "We need to get married." 

You flatten your hand against her head, keeping her as close as possible, and laugh, "We're already married. We're here because we're married."

Emily thinks about it briefly and says, "Maybe we should renew our vows or something after that."

You kiss the top of her shut eyelids and tiredly reply, "I married a smart one."

[sleepyjuice]

10 + 16 with jj please? (maybe smth like going back to the chateau the night john b and sarah “die” and consoling each other with a bit of badly timed tension? or any other ideas you have!)

I loved this so much!!!! what a bittersweet concept 😭

warnings: some angst (canon events for the most part from the show), liiilll bit of fluff, smut 18+!!!!!, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, jj being an absolute dream in this<3

No one ever prepares you for what you’re supposed to do after learning that two of your best friends were most likely dead and you would never see them again.

You somewhat prepare yourself in life for moments where you are inevitably going to lose people, but once the moment is over, then what?

As you and jj walked silently back to the chateau after what had turned into one of the worst days of your life, you wished more than ever that someone somewhere had written your entire life out for you so that you could ask them for all the answers. How to just go on with your life after something so traumatic.

Pope and Kiara had gone home with their parents which left just you and your boyfriend, jj. You were sure your parents were worried about you, surely they had heard what happened, but you hadn’t checked your phone in hours.

jj opened the door to the much too quiet chateau once you arrived, tears falling from both of you once again as you stepped into a place that held some of the best memories of your lives, now empty. It just felt wrong to be there without John b and Sarah.

Everywhere you looked was a different memory. The silly arguments on the couch, the beers you all shared in the kitchen, and of course, John b’s bedroom, bed unmade from the last time he slept there, clothes on his dresser that he would never get to wear.

“It doesn’t feel right here without them.” jj broke the silence, his voice low as he removed his hat, kicking an empty beer can that lay on the floor across the room.

You nodded in agreement, stepping over to jj and wrapping your arms around his middle, your head resting against his chest as you sighed.

“It really doesn’t.” You responded, one of your hands rubbing gently against his back.

“You staying here tonight?” You asked him after a moment, tilting your head to gaze up at your boyfriend, his arms holding you close to him.

jj nodded in response, resting his chin on the top of your head, exhaling slowly into your hair as he shut his eyes. He had never lost someone in this way, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to handle it. He was a spontaneous person by nature, but this was way too much of a curveball to even begin to figure out.

You stood there in each other’s arms for a few minutes, the only sounds being the soft rain outside and the clunky AC that surprisingly still worked humming softly.

jj was the first to break the silence.

“Can you stay?” He asked quietly, pulling away slowly from the shared embrace to look down at your sunken eyes.

You met his gaze instantly, bringing a hand up to run your fingers through the bottom of his hair, nodding your head in response.

“Of course I’ll stay. I don’t think either of us should be alone right now.” You spoke softly, exhaling shakily, feeling genuinely unsure if breathing would ever feel the same again after today’s events.

So you stayed. You and jj ended up showering together, both of you eventually getting uncomfortable in your wet clothes that were dampened from the storm.

You shared a joint, both for yourselves and in john b and Sarah’s honor. John b especially would smile at the fact that two of his best friends were lighting up in his home the night he died. Regardless of why you did it, it was something at least semi normal in your nightly routine.

You and jj didn’t talk too much, but there was never any awkward silence. Finding conversation at a time like this was yet another challenge you would face.

So you called it a night at around 3 am, kissing goodnight after crawling into jj’s bed. Maybe by some miracle you would wake up to find that it was all just a super realistic nightmare. An epic prank by your subconscious.

You lay with your back facing jj, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, the room just dimly lit by the moonlight that shined through the window. You focused on jj’s soft breathing, assuming that he had fallen asleep, hoping and praying that sleep would also find you soon.

That was too much to ask for, as your mind could not stop replaying the earlier events over and over, making it impossible to get some rest. You shut your eyes anyways, hoping at some point you would become too physically exhausted and your body’s need for sleep would win this battle.

You were close to giving up and allowing yourself a sleepless night, when you suddenly felt jj’s hand move softly down your waist, rubbing down to your thigh.

“You awake?” He murmured quietly, almost positive you were still awake based on your unsteady breathing, but on the off chance you were asleep, he didn’t want to disturb you.

You turned your head at the sound of his voice, meeting his tired eyes. Although he also looked like he hadn’t slept yet.

“Yeah, can’t sleep,” you sighed, pushing your body back slightly into his touch, “my mind is goin’ a mile a minute right now. Can’t think of anything else.” You admitted, watching as he nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, same.” He hummed, planting a few soft kisses on your shoulder blades before resting his head there.

“Maybe we could try and distract ourselves…” jj whispered against your soft skin, kissing it again as he awaited your response, his body now fully pressed against yours.

“What do you mean?” You questioned quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You had an idea what he meant, and you pressed your ass back ever so gently to meet his crotch, testing the waters.

He let out a soft sigh at the feeling, tilting his head up to kiss your neck, his hand focusing on rubbing your thigh, slowly but surely inching its way towards your inner thigh.

“Just— feel something other than this pain, y’know?” He confirmed your suspicions as he began to grind his boxer clad dick against your ass, his kisses becoming a bit more lustful and his fingers now grazing against the waistband of your underwear.

“Yeah..” you breathed, nodding your head as you tilted your neck, granting jj easier and better access to kiss and nip at your sensitive skin there.

You felt him nod against you, his half hard dick now fully hard against your ass as he continued to grind against it.

He groaned softly before tugging gently at your underwear, his unspoken command leading you to pull them down off your legs, leaving you completely naked besides the shirt you were wearing. You felt jj rid himself of his boxers after you, leaving him fully naked now as they were all he had gone to bed in to begin with.

You moaned quietly once you felt him freely, your body reacting quickly to his sensual touch, arousal pooling between your legs as you pushed your ass against his fully hard cock.

“Let’s just forget for right now, yeah?” jj hummed, using his free hand to guide his cock between your wet folds, gathering your arousal to coat himself, pumping himself softly as he used both your wetness and his precum to lubricate himself.

“Mhm, let’s forget.” You spoke, barely a whisper. You hadn’t moved much from your original position. Your back was still facing jj, only now you had positioned your ass upwards just a bit so that you could align yourself to give jj access to you.

He didn’t respond verbally, pumping himself a few more times before aligning his cock with your wet entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You both let out a long, still quiet, moan at the feeling, your walls hugging his cock immediately as he began to move slowly inside of you.

The two of you had slow and soft sex plenty of times, typically after a long night when you were both super tired but still in need of a release, or early morning when you were sleepy but still needing one another. But this was a different type of need.

“So good, baby, feels so good.” jj cooed, his face pressed against your neck, eyes shut and brows furrowed in concentration, both of your minds forced to focus on the physical feeling of pleasure you allowed yourselves to feel.

You whimpered into the pillow, arching your back slightly so he could reach even deeper inside of you, reaching one of your arms behind you to caress the back of jj’s head, your fingers kneading into his messy hair.

The only sounds heard in the dark bedroom were your soft grunts and moans mixed with the sound of jj’s balls slapping against your ass. Not nearly as loud as this particular bedroom usually was during times like these, but that wasn’t what you needed right now.

jj reached one of his hands over the curve of your ass to find your clit, rubbing circles against it as he continued to thrust himself inside of you. He already felt pretty close, with his emotions being completely heightened, and he wanted to make sure you were able to finish too.

You squeezed your eyes shut as he worked at your clit, all the while his cock was hitting the perfect spots inside of you, your pussy beginning to clench around him as you whimpered, your breathing growing more ragged.

“I’m close, jay, fuck. Gonna come.” You gasped, feeling your muscles begin to contract as your body was hit with euphoria, a feeling that would be far from your grasp for a long time. After tonight you had to grieve, so you relished in this small moment of pleasure you were able to feel.

“Fuck, good baby— yeah, so good. I’m close, fuck, I’m close too, sweets.” jj grunted, your orgasm had your pussy clenching and hugging his cock even tighter, your release soaking him which triggered him to follow.

“Fuuuck, oh god,” he stammered, thrusts sloppy as he felt himself release into you, groaning loudly into your skin as he filled you with thick spurts, “yeah, yeah, perfect, baby.”

You moaned as he filled you up, your pussy fluttering at the feeling of fullness, his release feeling perfect as you came down from your own.

“So good, jj.” You said shakily as he pulled out of you, feeling him kiss the back of your neck before using his thumb to turn your head to face him.

“Thank you, baby, thank you.”

[d3adlyromb3ar]

⋆˚࿔ bad girls get punished, and rewarded

— pairing. toji fushiguro x fem!reader

— synopsis. a girls night out doesn’t go as planned as Toji watches you dance a little to close to some random guys at the club. he drags you home and reminds you just who you belong to. him and only him.

— word count. 2.2k

— contents. possessiveness, toxic behavior but it’s toji so it’s okay, smut, choking, fingering, pussy spanking/spanking, overstimulation

main masterlist

Leave it to Toji to ruin your girls night out. It was an innocent night spent with the girls, dancing together at a lively club— when he decided to rip you from your friends.

You tugged and tried to pull your wrist free from his tight grip on you, feeling embarrassed from the way he was pulling you out of the club like a little kid.

“Toji— let me go!” You hissed under your breath, trying not to bring attention to you both.

He ignored you, tugging you behind him as he made it to his car. Without a word, he opened up the passenger side door, gently pushing you into the seat and buckling you up. Fucking bastard had the nerve to be a gentleman after pulling a stunt like that.

“I can do it myse—!”

“Shut up and let me.” He interrupted, his voice hard.

Your lips sealed from the cold tone and the way his eyes were dark with fury as he glared at you. Despite his scary demeanor, he was gentle with his actions, shutting the door without letting it slam and moving the drivers side.

You peeked over to him, watching his hands grip the wheel so tight his knuckles were whitening. You were confused and slightly turned on, what was his issue? You hadn’t even realized he was at the club. He was supposed to be home tonight while you were out with your friends.

You felt his eyes dance to you time to time, and everytime you felt like squirming in your seat. There was so much tension in the car.

You were silent the whole ride home, the growl of the engine drowning out the silence. It wasn’t long until you were pulling up to the complex. He stayed scarily calm, opening the door for you as he unbuckled you, a protective arm shooting around your waist as he led you inside the apartment.

Once inside, he shut the door and placed his hands on either side of your head— caging you against the door as he towered over you.

You gazed up at him in false innocence, the sight only making his lips part— a low growl escaping.

“What was that tonight?” He finally spoke, his voice low and gravelly.

You brows pulled together, racking your brain for something you did wrong tonight. Nothing.

“What do you mean? I was out with the girls tonight, you know that. I told you about my plans tonight like five times.” You hissed, although your voice betrayed you and didn’t hold the intimidation factor you wanted it to.

His head tilted, his eyes trailing from your eyes down to your lips.

“Was grinding against those guys a part of your plan too?”

Your eyes widened and you could feel your cheeks get hot with slight embarrassment. It was hard to keep people off you on the dance floor, and it’s not like you were doing it on purpose. You hadn’t even realized you grinded up against anyone.

“Oh… I wasn’t—!”

“Save your breath sweetheart. I watched you rub yourself all over them.” He growled.

You swallowed, bravely holding his gaze as you thought about what to say next. It was clear he was jealous. That thought almost made you want to laugh, seeing Toji like this slightly funny— and extremely sexy. The possessiveness was borderline toxic but you were addicted to him claiming you and wanting you just to himself. It was something you adored about him.

Although, it was clear you two weren’t together. No labels or official titles— you were simply fuck buddies. Nothing else. At least that’s what you thought.

“We’re not together, remember?” You challenge, doing your best to glare at him with intimidation.

His eyes grew even darker, his eyes almost completely black as he tilted his head forward, his nose bumping against yours.

“That doesn’t mean I like seeing you near anyone else,” Toji trailed his hand up your body, his fingertips ghosting between your breasts before wrapping his hand around your neck “You’re fucking mine, got that?”

Your resolve started to melt, his hand giving a little squeeze to your throat, causing you to whimper. The sensation shooting straight down to your core.

His eyes were hooded, sporting a knowing look.

“I’m the only one who gets to have you. You’re mine.” His other hand trailed downwards and cupped your pussy through your skirt. “This is mine.”

You squirmed in his hold, by no means trying to get away, but trying to relieve the ache in your core.

He licked his lips, his tongue running over the scar on the corner of his mouth.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice was deep, one that wasn’t to be challenged.

You swallowed, the bob of your throat pressing up against his rough palm.

“You.” Came out a whisper, your voice strained with desire.

His hand squeezed tighter, pulling your body closer by your neck as his other hand squeezed your pussy. You gasped, staring helplessly into his eyes that were the abyss.

“Couldn’t hear ya darling.”

You sucked in a breath through the tightness in your throat.

“You— I belong to you and only you!” You pleaded, your hips trying to move against his palm, desperate for friction.

Toji growled and released you, spinning you around so that your face was pressed up against the door and harshly spanked your ass through your skirt. You yelped, your body pressing into the door as he massaged your ass with his hands.

“Good girl, but bad girl for trying to please yourself.” He spoke lowly, his face hovering over your shoulder, his lips ghosting by the shell of your ear. “Do you really think you deserve to be touched right now?”

Your lips poured into a frown, the thought of not being touched while you were this wound up almost had you crying. Actually, it did.

Tears built up in your eyes, and your bottom lip trembled.

Toji spun you back around to face him, his hand looping around the small of your back and pressing himself against you. He tilted your chin up, tilting his head in wonder when he saw your glossy eyes.

“Sweetheart, why the tears? You know you were being bad tonight,” He leaned forward, his lips ghosting over your wobbly ones. “And bad girls get punished.”

You couldn’t help the breathy moan that came after his words. He chuckled, the cover of his mouth curving up in an evil grin.

“I forget how much you enjoy your punishment, isn’t that right you filthy girl.”

You nodded shamelessly, adding a small pout that you knew would make him tick.

His eyes narrowed into slits before he back up and away from you, eyes locked with yours the entire journey to the couch. He sat back, his arms resting on the top of the couch’s back. He manspreaded, in the way you always found yourself drooling over.

“Get over here, now.” His voice startled you from your daze and you nervously shuffled over until you were standing in front of him.

He looked you up and down, licking his lips like he was looking at a meal he was about to devour.

“Over my knee.” His commands had your pussy throbbing.

You quickly bent over his knee, resting your chin on your arms on the armrest— ass arched over his knee.

He flipped up your skirt, a low growl leaving his lips at the sight of his favorite white lace panties hugging your plump, round ass. He could feel himself harden from the view. As much as he loved seeing you in white lace, he knew you look the best with nothing on.

He ripped your panties off, tearing the material and you yelped from the snapping of the lace.

His calloused hand smoothed over your cheeks, squeezing and caressing the soft skin before he landed a painful smack to your right cheek.

You jolted forward from the harshness of it, a little yelp leaving your lips.

“Count them.” His voice was deep, vibrating his whole body with the small command.

You swallowed.

“One.” Your voice was small, shame laced although you’d done nothing wrong tonight— at least not intentionally.

His hand smoothed over your left cheek, squeezing the flesh before landing another hard smack.

“Two.” You bit your lip, the sting melting into pleasure, sending an enjoyable buzz to your core.

He repeated two more times on each cheek, the smacks harder than the last, the action causing your body to jolt forward everytime. Your hands were deathly gripping the armrest, your nails biting into the fabric as he attacked your already irritated skin.

Toji couldn’t look away, your angry pink skin as beautiful as ever. His hand smoothed over the flesh, the soft skin feeling perfect in his palms.

Without warning, he spread your legs open wider and landed a smack to your pussy, eliciting a cry from you.

You weren’t expecting that, but the sting that was left behind after was delicious and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped.

Toji licked his lips.

“You like that doll?”

His hand cupped your pussy, rubbing over the glistening folds before landing another smack. Your eyes clenched shut, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as the sting morphed into a hard thump. It felt heavenly.

“Of course a dirty girl like you would like this,” His hand smoothed over your folds again, his fingers brushing over your engorged clit. “Bet this isn’t even punishment, huh baby?”

You whined, swirling your hips to press your clit to his fingers.

His hand retracted from you, and before you could complain— he plunged three fingers into your entrance. You leaned forward onto the armrest, your back arched and your ass in the air.

The pads of his fingers were rough, rubbing against your gummy walls with precision. Not even a second later, he was curling his digits up and smoothed over the spongey wall. White dots filled your eyes and you couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping.

“There it is,” He hummed, abusing your g-spot until your legs were shaking, the familiar release approaching. “C’mon baby.”

Your teeth sunk into the armrest, tears escaping the corners of your eyes as your body trembled in pleasure, his fingers still moving inside of you, your high intensifying.

“Tojiiii….” You whined, the feeling of another orgasm about to rip through you, “Please… wait… ah…”

His fingers rubbed harshly over your sweet spot, your legs shaking as quick little pants escaped you. Your body twitched and jolted forward, the second orgasm ripping through you more violently than the last.

Still, his fingers didn’t slow.

“Give me another, I know you can sweetheart.” His other hand came down to your lower back, pressing down and keeping you from squirming over his knee.

You cried out, overstimulated as he abused your spongey wall, the sensation building back up quickly.

“I can’t… I… fuckk…” You were unable to speak properly, the hard thrust and strokes of his fingers drawing out the third orgasm.

Your vision went black for a second, your body collapsing onto the armrest as Toji held your ass over his knee.

Toji watched your body twitch, the sound of your squelching pussy making him rock hard in his jeans. He couldn’t control the lick of his lips at the sight of your juices coating his knee.

You were crying softly, panting as you managed to catch your breath. God, he knew how to make you feel fucking good.

At last, he slowed his movements and pulled his fingers free. Giving your clit a couple of taps, each tap making your body twitch— before he was removing his hand and helping you sit up and positioned you in his lap.

Your head rested against his peck, his strong heartbeat thumping into your ear— the sound nearly lulling you to sleep.

“Good job baby, knew you could do it.” His deep voice was softer now, his fingers combing through your hair.

You hummed, snuggling your face into his chest. He never managed to leave you functioning after your sexual activities— and you fucking loved it.

“Love you Toji,” You whispered, gripping his chin tiredly to force him to look down at you, “But you’re terrible at punishments.”

His eyes darkened before he released a deep chuckle, one that had you growing excited again— your core throbbing.

“Oh doll,” He hand smoothed over your cheek, before dropping down and squeezing your neck in warning, “I’m just getting started with ya.”

[evagreen-stories]

Mother’s madness | (Aemond x f!lowborn!reader) (2/?)

Summary: Aemond, troubled by his unfruitful marriage and the stress of the war, takes himself a bedslave when he seizes Harrenhal and gets more attached to her than he ever thought possible. Bringing her to the Red Keep after he needs to leave Harrenhal would not go as he hoped it would, especially after the birth of the babes he sired onto her.

Warnings: mentions of violence, light angst (kinda?), canon typical misogyny, canon typical behaviour, dark!aemond, abusive!aemond, forced relationship, forced impregnantion, canon typical classicism, mentions of assault, stockholm syndrom (kind of), obsessive!aemond, non-canon storyline

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< part 1 masterlist part 3 >

When Aemond finally arrived back in the Red Keep he paid the staff and advisors waiting for him at the entrance little mind, waving them off dismissively before making his way towards his precious bedslaves chamber. 

He knew you must've given birth by now and he could not wait a moment longer to find out what happened and how you're faring.

Approaching your chamber with a quick step he took note of the unusual sight of the guard standing opposite of the door, not in front of it as usual, though he did not inquire about it. Instead, his hand fell onto the door handle and he pushed down on it, wanting to make his entrance but instead walking into the wooden door, his forehead connecting to it with a thud.

Stunned, he's standing in front of it for a few moments, blankly staring at the dark wood before starting to slowly press down and rattle on the door handle yet again. 

Nothing. It's not budging. Why on earth is this door locked? A sense of panic washed over him as he keeps rattling the door, all worst case scenarios he could think of filling his head at once. 

With hurried steps a maester approached. He had waited at the entrance for him with the others, wanting to inform him about your peculiar behaviour, but struggling to keep up with the younger man's hurried step when he had brushed past him.

“Wait, my prince!” He finally catches up to Aemond as he stands rattling your door with a confused and frustrated expression.

“What do you want?” He snaps, his voice bitter and sharp. “Why is her door locked? Where is the key?” 

“My prince, I need to talk to you about her. It would be best if we go somewhere quiet.” The maester answers, still out of breath.

Aemond felt a chill run down his spine, this could not be good. “Just tell me now. What has happened to her?” His voice was curt, the way it always was when he’s worried. He wanted to know now, not have it dragged out any longer. 

“I believe it's best we discuss this in your chambers, my prince.” 

He gave the maester a look, his fist clenching at his side as his frustration started to grow into anger. “My chambers then.” He gruntled dismayed before turning and walking towards them. The pair soon arrived and Aemond quickly shut the door behind them.

“Just tell me. What's wrong with her? What has happened to my y/n?” 

“My prince, I'm afraid she has developed some sort of hysteria.” The maester says and sighs, sitting down on a nearby chair. “The birth went well for a twin birth, both babes healthy. She seemed normal the first few days but had soon grown paranoid, not letting any of us handle the babes anymore. She has taken to locking herself into her room at all times.”

“And you have allowed this?” Aemond barks. “You've allowed my y/n to go into hysterics? Did she take any medicine you gave her? Are the babes well?” His tone was accusing, as though this had been completely this maesters fault. 

The idea of his precious bed slave going hysterical all alone in her chambers was deeply unsettling to him.

The old man shakes his head. “She allowed treatment of her body after the birth but never took any of the medicine we tried to give her. She only drinks water and tea, but tea only if the it is served dry and she can brew it herself. I assume it's to inspect the leaves. She insists no guards stand in front of the door, seemingly concerned they will grab her. As for the babes, the last time I saw them when I went in to plead with her, they both looked well. Grown plumb over the weeks she seems to be giving enough milk for the two. She washes and changes them herself. She… She eats and cleans herself too, though she does not look well.”

“How long has it been like this? How long has she kept herself locked away?” He asks angrily. He had been away for months, yes, but she never showed any such behaviour herself. Never once did she show the slightest signs of madness or hysteria before. He cursed the war as his frustration and worry grows in him. 

He should've stayed. He never should have left her alone.

“She seemed to be growing agitated almost immediately after the birth and soon took to locking herself in at night. We were still allowed to handle the babes then but she would always stand right behind us and never leaving them out her sight.  A fortnight or so later she started keeping the door locked at all times and denied anyone to touch them.”

“She is denying anyone to touch them? This is madness!” An anxious knot forms in his stomach as he realises the extent this had reached. “Have any servants been in her room at all?”

“She opens the door for servants when they bring food or come to clean her room or run a bath. However, when she does let anyone into her room, she will have both babes tied to her chest and stand in a far back corner away from them while they work.” 

“She is keeping them bound to her chest? Does she know that they can't spend their whole life glued to her body?” Aemonds mind was reeling at this point. He knew she was simple-minded and uneducated but a child, she was not. She knew better, that he was sure of. 

Something else must be going on, some reason for her madness… 

As his mind keeps reeling the maester speaks up. “I'm afraid she is unfit to raise these babes, my prince. I recommend they be taken from her.” He states matter of factly. 

“No.” Aemond states firmly and quickly. This was a suggestion he hadn't expected at all. This man wants to take these infants from their mother and sees no issue with it? That was a cruelty even he wouldn't commit.

“She has only just given birth. You will not take the babes from their mother, especially not when she's proven herself capable to care for them despite going mad. I will deal with this when I have the time. For now just let her be and don't try to touch my children anymore. Is that clear?”

The maester shakes his head, his voice increasingly firm. “My prince, i don't think this is  right. She needs to be separated from them. There is another thing you should know… they are both boys.Your only sons so far, my prince. You cannot allow them in the grasps of a mad woman.”

For the first time in this conversation he seemed lost for words. The news of the babes being boys shook him to the core. It was a dream come true, of course, though he was so focused on the prospect of having any children strong enough to survive he had forbidden himself to hope for even one son, let alone two.

His only sons - his legacy, his blood.

What his wife had failed to provide him within four years of marriage, his bed slave had given him without issue.

The thought of her now gone mad and denying him access to them was outrageous, yet the maesters' continued attempt to separate them was even more infuriating to him.

She was a mere bed slave to him, flesh to make him happy whenever the mood took him, or so he thought. 

Knowing she was the mother of his only sons stirred both happiness and concern in him. Mad or not, she was his. His to use as he see fit, but also his to protect and care for. His responsibility, she and their sons. 

His sons.

His hands clenched at his sides as he approached the older man with quick steps. “You dare defy my orders?” He grabbed the sleeve of his robe and pulled him up to his feet, dragging him out of the room. “She does as I say and so do you. She will care for these children as she would if she were in her right mind, regardless how long it will take her to recover. I will see her right away.” 

The older man struggles to keep up with him, continuously protesting and objecting to his decision, urging him to take his sons away from her for their own protection.

With each of his words Aemonds rage grows in him. 

Could he not shut up? He said himself that the babes are fine. What's the urgency to take them away?

He finally reaches her chamber. “Open the bloody door.” He barks after knocking several times. Trying hard to push his anger back and not snap at her the second this door opens

You flinch when you hear the loud bangs and his shouts outside the door. Frozen in both fear and excitement it takes a few moments before you rush to put down the book you were reading and hurry to the door, one hand on the babes backs as they snuggle to your chest in the fabric tied around your body, the other hand on the wooden door as you lean against it, trying to hear the voice better and convince yourself it was really him. 

“Aemond? Is that you?”

He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears your voice, a faint smile tugging at his lips at the sound of it. It had always been music to his ears, a balm to his otherwise frantic mind.

“Open the door, y/n.” His voice remains firm. He would not have you play games with him right now, despite his happiness of being reunited with you.

You unlock the door and open it slowly, peeking outside. When you see him, a wave of relief washes over you. 

He was the only one able to save you, you were certain. 

The feeling of relief vanishes when you take note of the maester standing not far behind him.

“Not him.” You demand in a shaky voice, staring at the old man and ignoring Aemond completely.

When he sees you for the first time after so long, his heart flutters. You looked awful, yes, dark circles around your eyes, your face pale and sunken, hair dull and tangled. You looked drained, both your body and mind.

The maester tries to interject and walks closer but is immediately stopped and waved off by Aemond.

“No, not him. Just me.” he assures you, his tone now softened by your appearance and apparent fear. He steps inside when you make way for him, watching as you hastily close and lock the door once again.

When you turn around to face him you see him watching you already, analysing you in great detail. His gaze stops on your chest, trying to catch a glimpse of the tiny babes hidden beneath the fabric.

“You… you're back.” You say after long moments of silence.

“Yes, I'm back. Are they well?” Is the first thing on his mind. He steps closer to you. He wants his sons, yes, but he also wants you. Desperately.

You flinch and step back when he approaches, both hand wrapped protectively around your chest and the babes. Your voice is shaky and eyes glazed over as if you will cry any moment.

“Yes, they are. What did they tell you?”

The sound of your voice, the tremble when you answer him, it's enough to make his heart clench with worry. His hands itch with the urge to reach out and hold you, but he holds back, not wanting to scare you off again.

“They said you aren't well. That you lock yourself in this room at all times.That you haven’t allowed anyone to touch the babes. Tell me that is not true.”

“It is. They don't need to. I  do it well enough.” You stammer.

“You're keeping them away from them - from MY sons.” He says slowly, his voice carrying more anger and a threat this time. He steps forward and you step back again, a sharp stab of pain fills his chest when he sees you cowering away from him yet again.

“Why? I have the right as their father to be able to touch my sons. I won't let anyone keep them from me, not even you. Y/n, let me see my sons.”

You can feel your breath hitch in your throat, your jaw clenching. Hesitating for several moments, you eventually walk around him with great distance, over to the bed where the two cradles stand. 

Undoing the fabric carefully you take Aurelius out first and put him in his bassinet before doing the same with Patroclus. You stand next to them, preparing and folding the fabric for the next use. 

Aemond approaches slowly, his eye wide with wonder as his gaze focuses into the small beds and studying the two tiny humans attentively. They're both awake, looking back up at him with wide, curious eyes while sucking their thumbs, both moving in union and mirroring each other's actions as if they were one.

Your own movements are quick and tense, your eyes wide as you watch him approach your sons. He notices it all and feels his heart grow heavy at the sight of you. 

He had imagined this moment often, before he left and while he was gone, wondering how it'd be when he finally reunites with you and seesyour shared children for the first time. 

Never could he ever have imagined it being this way.

He sighs before turning his attention back to your sons, reaching out towards the nearest one and slowly picking him up. 

Your breath hitches at the sight and you clutch the fabric you're still holding onto in your hands, eyeing him like a hawk as he begins to cradle him on his arm. Aemond reaches out to stroke the white fluff on his son's head gently before taking the tiny hand in his.

Aemond seems lost in thought as he gently rocks the babe in his arms, smiling to himself. He's never been a fond or present father but the sight of his son's hand clutching onto his own finger makes him feel a way he hasn't felt before. A sense of pride swells in him as well as many other emotions he cant understand just now.

“What are their names?”

You calm slightly  when you see Aemond handle your son so calmly and smile widely.

“You're holding Aurelius, the elder, the younger is Patroclus.”

He hums as he leans over the crib and looks back and forth between the two, trying to tell them apart but failing to find any differences.

“I think Patroclus should be in his fathers arms, too.” He says out loud as he watches the younger move around and wave his arms excitedly.

You nod and put aside the fabric before reaching into the cradle to pick up the younger, helping to carefully place him onto Aemonds other arm. 

Aemond smiles down at both of them, rocking them gently from side to side. His sons, his blood, his legacy - so innocent and pure. When his gaze falls onto the fabric you had just put aside he asks you, his voice gentle and soft, “Why do you do that? Tie them to your chest?”

“So they're safe.” You answer quickly. “And they are calmer that way, especially when they're awake. They will fuss otherwise.”

“I see…” He replies carefully, nodding along while his gaze keeps wandering back and forth between the two tiny boys. “And… No one is allowed to touch them? Not even wash them, change them? You want to do it all by yourself?” 

“Yes. Aemond-” You begin before stopping yourself and looking around the room nervously. Noticing two open windows you quickly scurry over to close them. 

I need to tell him. I need to tell him now.

Aemonds brows furrow in confusion as he watches you hurry away to close the windows. That doesn't seem like a normal mother, he thought to himself. Why is she still acting so strangely? She should be delighted that he was back.

“What? What is it?”

Once all windows are closed you rush back to him, worry and fear etched all over your face as you stand in front of him, your bodies mere inches apart while your trembling hands move to grab his arms. Leaning in over the two tiny babes watching your every move you whisper to him as if someone else were in the room. 

“You need to help me, Aemond, please. They… they're trying to steal my sons from me.”

A chill runs down his spine at your words. How in the world did you convince yourself of this? Your fear was real, he could tell that much. Despite being safe in the castle you feared for your sons.

That must be what's driving her into madness. 

“No ones trying to steal your sons, y/n. The maesters are just concerned for their well being with you locking them away like this. Y/n, you must-”

“No!” You object. “No, no! Aemond you don't get it!” You're whisper-yelling at him, moving even closer, your eyes brimming with tears as your voice starts to quiver.

“The maesters, they want to steal them! Ever since they saw they are boys they've been scheming to take them from me! They want to steal them and give them to Floris to pass off as hers, I'm sure of it! I've heard them say it!” 

Your voice breaks as you start to plead with him. “Please, Aemond, you can't let that happen! I'm begging you!”

She really had lost her mind, He thinks to himself, taking a step back from you with both babes still in his arms. Shocked by how adamant and crazed you seem he can only shake his head and sigh deeply. You really believed this, he could tell.

Just when he starts speaking and wants to call you mad, his voice suddenly dies in his throat and he goes quiet. 

His mind wanders back to the maester that stands right outside the door at this very moment. The same one that had been adamant his sons be taken from you. The same one that had dared to defy his order and speak against him of all people several times, trying to stop him from seeing his y/n. Could there be truth to this after all? Maybe she wasn't as mad as he thought she was…

He clears his throat, trying to decide on what to do. He needed to get to the root of all this but not before calming you down. 

“No one will take them from you, y/n. I forbid anyone from doing so. I would kill anyone, maester or servant, before I let that happen.” 

You look at him, breathing heavily from the distress in your mind, studying his expression and eye in hopes of seeing the truth in it. 

Eventually, you swallow dryly and shake your head gently, not believing his words.  

“I will not leave that door unlocked, Aemond. I will not let them steal my sons.”

His face falters slightly at your words and behaviour. You seemed mad with the way you acted and spoke but he could tell the madness was fuelled by real fear. 

He sighs in defeat, understanding he won't get anywhere with this. Not now, at least. All he can do for now is try and support you within the little space of your mind that has not been clouded by fear.

“I understand you worry for your son's well-being but no one will take them away. I promise you this. I swear it to you. But… you need to let someone in. You need help, y/n. You can't do this all alone. You need to rest more.”

“No, Aemond.” You shake your head again. “I can only sleep when they sleep and that door is locked. Only when I know they can’t pry them from my sleeping body.”

The sound of your trembling voice filled with fear was like a dagger to his heart. You were clearly terrified and exhausted. He had to resolve this, find something, anything to make you stop fearing. You are the mother of his sons. You deserve his protection. As your protector, he must find a way to protect you even from your own mind.

“You will sleep. You will eat. And you will stop doing this. I need you to be healthy. Our sons need you to be healthy.” He begins, his voice firm but gentle. 

“I will send all masters away. Not one will be allowed in here unless you allow it. I will have two guards at your door at all times. They will be sworn to me and you. They will not let any maester enter without your permission and they will not take orders from anyone but us two. I will also appoint a handmaid to you. Someone I will select carefully, one that can be trusted. She will also be sworn to you and me only. I will instruct her not to take the boys unless you allow it. But you need to let her in and let her help you, let her take care of you. Will you do that for me? For Aurelius, for Patroclus?”

You stare at him for a long while, mouth opening and closing several times, struggling to make a decision. You had prayed for his safe return and his help daily for weeks on end. Now that he was finally here and trying to help you, you know you should accept it. He was right, after all, but the fears in your mind were too strong to just act like nothing happened. 

“Just… just one.” You accept eventually. “Just her. And… and I will still keep that door locked. But I will let her in. Her and you only.”

A small smile forms on Aemonds lips and he sighs in relief. He had won this small battle at least but it couldn't go on forever like this.

He assures you again while he puts the boys back down into their cradles with your help and pulls you into a tight hug despite your protests. 

He holds you close to his chest and strokes your back gently as he repeats the same promises over and over again before eventually letting go of you reluctantly. 

Bidding you goodbye for now he steps out the door, grumbling dismayed when he hears the door shut and lock as soon as he steps out the door frame. 

He turns to leave but the maester that had been waiting all this time wastes no time, following him and speaking to him with the same urgency as before. “See, she is mad! My prince, you must intervene before something happens”

Aemond stops and turns to look at the man, the anger growing in him with every word. He struggles to hold back his accusations, knowing he can't say too much before he gets the chance to investigate further.

“She is not mad, that I can guarantee you. There is nothing wrong with her. You'd do well to start abiding by my orders and leaving her and my sons alone before I have you punished for your insolence.” 

Its now the maesters turn to grow angry at the prince, though he pushes his emotions aside so as not to risk losing his head, but he still can't stop his objections. His status as the Court maester was always enough to make the nobles and royals cling to his every word like gospel but this young, green prince was challenging his expertise without second thought.

“No prince should have a madwoman have his only sons in her grasp. She must not be allowed to keep them. Who knows, she may harm them, and then what? She must be placed in confinement before she hurts someone!” He demands, his tone firm and cold.

Aemond snaps at him now, approaching him with a quick step and raising a warning finger to him. There definitely was much more to this situation than he first thought, he was sure of it now.

“She is not mad! There is no way she would harm her children! She will be allowed in her chamber with her sons and with all the rest and care she deserves. Door locked and all. Am I understood?”

The older man needs to stand down eventually, leaving the matter be for now. 

He follows the prince along as they wander the long hallways towards the council room, following Aemonds initial summoning of the small council to report all that has happened during his time on the battlefield.

He needs to sit through what feels like hours of discussions with his brother, King Aegon, his mother Alicent and all the other members of the small council before he can finally attempt to make sense of his y/n’s paranoia and fear of the maesters.

< part 1 masterlist part 3 >

[garlicisgodsbestinvention]

perfect dimensions

(Carmy x Designer!Reader)

Summary: The Bear is weeks from opening, and Sugar hires an interior designer to bring the vision to life. Part 1/3.

Warnings: cursing, WILL contain smut later 👀NO use of Y/N because this is the 21st century. Carmy x female!reader, reader is described as having longer hair but that’s it for physical descriptions. NOT EDITED because I’m lazy girl tehe

—————————MINORS DNI——————————

“I hired a designer,” Natalie tells them in passing on Thursday, waving a vague hand when both Syd and Carmy open their mouthes to ask, “She’ll be here in like, twenty minutes.”

“Okay, heard, but we already have a design,” Carmy says, gesturing to the wall covered in layouts.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had a degree in architecture and engineering. Those are fake dimensions, Bear; we don’t know shit about anything, so someone is going to come in and make sure that we’ve got the right fucking shade of white!” Natalie shouts before the office door slams shut, leaving Syd and Camry to stare after her with equal confusion.

“Pregnancy is making her…” Syd starts to say.

“Mean?”

“Yeah, mean. Definitely a little mean,” Sydney sighs, “She’s right though. Vibe doesn’t get us to opening night.”

And that’s how Carmen finds himself stuttering through an introduction from a now much-more-pleasant Natalie when she shows a woman through the front doors.

Carmen extends his hand to you, clearing his throat, nodding like a fucking idiot when you tell him your name.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m uh, I’m Carmen.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth spreading into a smile that makes his heart beat a little faster. “Walk me through?”

Natalie takes the lead while Carmy and Syd hang back. One glance at the look on his partner’s face should have sent Carmy scrambling for something else to do, but he’s not fast enough to remove himself from her presence before a laugh is bubbling from between her closed lips and he’s desperately hoping his face isn’t turning red.

“Im, uh, Carmen,” Syd lowers her voice in a mocking tone.

“Fuck right off,” Carmy shakes his head at her.

“You literally forgot your name!”

“I didn’t forget my fuckin’ name—“

“Like oh my god, a pretty girl with pretty eyes appears and you forget how to talk!”

“Are you done?”

“Absolutely not. I can’t wait for Richie to meet her.”

Carmen wishes the day would never come.

Ten minutes later you appear back in the dining room, Fak following close behind with a shit-eating grin that makes Carmy wish he had never gotten out of bed this morning.

“Carmy! Did you know she likes to bake?”

“No, Fak, we’ve only just met. Would you let her do her job?” Carmen sighs, rubbing his fingers into his eyes to stop an oncoming headache. Syd snorts.

“We’ll chat more later, Neil, I promise,” you say.

“You might have just made yourself a new best friend,” Syd laughs.

Carmy looks away the moment your eyes swivel over to his, trying to disguise that he’s staring as best he can.

“So,” you say, “Natalie said you had drawings. May I see?”

Camry’s fingers itch in a weird way, but he manages a nod before striding over to his backpack to pull out the notebook while you scan the wall of swatches and inspiration photos. You nods your head a little, like you’re concocting an idea.

Carmy wants to twirl a finger through the strand of hair hanging loose out of your updo.

“So, uh, this is what I’ve come up with so far.”

He then spends the next ten minutes walking you through each of the drawings, explaining himself a little too thoroughly, and making random comments about lighting and booth fabric. You look intent the whole time, brow furrowed at the page, occasionally pointing and you don’t even have to say anything—Carmy just starts to over explain immediately following the point of your painted fingernail.

When he’s done, you nod your head slowly, the corner of your mouth twitching up. You’re wearing some sort of lipstick that reminds Carmy of the stain of touching a cherry pit.

“These are amazing,” you say finally, and Carmy feels his face heat. “I like the vibe. I love the vibe, actually. Are you a sensitive person?”

You look up at him and Carmy short-circuits.

Syd says yes, at the exact time he says no.

“Conflicting signals,” you say, “Anyone else to weigh in?”

It takes a second for him to realize that you’re making a joke, and he has to shake himself out of a stupor caused completely by the sight of your smile.

“Uh, no, no I’m good. Gimme feedback,” he says, and you reach out to flip the pages back, landing on the entry.

“Great. I’m going to tell you what we need to fix,” you say, straight to the point. “This entry is too small. Either we need to extend out into the sidewalk, or we need to push the kitchen back by at least five or six feet. The bar is going to create a bottleneck right here, and we need to inset these shelves to give you a little more working room. The lighting here needs to be sconces, and the bathroom doors need to slide to maximize space—this is too small for a swinging door.”

Carmen is fully intent on taking in every word you’re saying, but out of the corner of his eye he can’t help but see Syd’s face transform into something mildly resembling devious.

“Heard,” Carmy says, nodding his head as you looks back up. “Let’s rock.”

——————————————————————————

You become a fixture in Carmy’s life in the same way that Sydney or Richie or Nat are, appearing every time he turns the corner and whispering a hello in passing before you start barking orders to the contractors who listen to your every word. Strangely, he can relate. A week ago you told him, Carmen, please decide which side of the bar you want the ice machine on, and do it quickly so I can tell the water guy when he gets here. He’s never made a decision so fast in his life.

Even Nat had popped an eyebrow when he replied, on it, before you’d even really finished your sentence.

Usually, he’s on autopilot—walking in and straight back to the office or the kitchen and hardly ever stopping to notice what’s going on. He’s the first one in and the last one out by design, so he doesn’t even see everyone else arrive until they’re already there.

This morning, though, Carmy walks into the kitchen to see you already there, writing something out in a notebook as Natalie talks, waving her hands wildly.

“Okay, I got you,” you’re saying only glancing up when Carmy’s shoes shuffle too loudly on the floor. “Oh! Good, you’re here. I need you.“

Carmy raises his eyebrows. “Need me?”

“To look at paint swatches,” you say, ushering him into the main dining area. The words ring in his head like bells as he follows you, the scent of your perfume surrounding him as he walks through the crowd of it. You smells so good, and it reminds him of New York City somehow, the faint scent of rain.

He figures that you must have come in even earlier than he and Natalie both, because you’re dressed more casually than usual, and there’s a charm necklace dangling over your tee shirt that he tries to identify when you turn without you realizing he’s staring. He makes out a paintbrush and nothing else.

“Right, so,” you start, gesturing to the wall. There’s a beat of silence with them both staring at the three swatches on the wall, and then Carmy turns towards you.

Your words overlap.

Carmy says, “I hate them.”

At the same moment, you say, “They’re horrible, right?”

Carmy laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, not it.”

“Okay, so hear me out.” You say, leaving his side to pull something from your folder. “Pink.”

“Pink?”

“Like, oyster shell pink. Neutral enough that in the low light it’ll look pale, almost indiscernible from white. And this wall—“ you point to the back where the booths will be and shake your head. “Has to be a mural. It’ll look unfinished if it’s bare.”

Carmy nods along with everything that you say, trying to envision it. “What kind of mural?”

You tilt your head, chewing at your lip. Carmy completely short-circuits for an embarrassingly long second.

“I might have some ideas,” you say in a soft voice, crossing over to the table where you’ve set your things and pulling out a black sketchbook.

“Two artists in residence, huh?” Carmy jokes, his stomach fluttering when you smile.

“Do you draw anything other than food and restaurant interiors?” You ask.

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you repeat, looking up at him. He knows that you want him to elaborate—he would never admit out loud that he spends the hours he’s not cooking trying to replicate the way your necklace hangs off of your neck and the curve of your wrist.

Occasionally he doesn’t do weird, obsessive, borderline creepy things—sometimes he sketches the buildings outside his window as the sun goes down, or tries to remember what the boat in Copenhagen looked like, or that one place he used to drink coffee at in New York.

Your eyes narrow at him just a little, like you’re trying to read all the things he’s not saying.

He dips his head, half to look at the page you’ve opened the notebook to and half to get out from under the scrutiny of your pretty eyes.

“That’s insane,” Carmy finds himself saying, looking down at the waves of color on the page. “It looks like, almost like wood? Or marble. That’s—fuck, that’s so cool.”

The page is covered in shades of brown and deep green and black, melding together into something that reminds him of tree rings or stained wood panels, muted like an old chinoiserie river painting.

“You could hire someone to change it out seasonally maybe, it’d be cool, but I think something like this would look nice with the color of the wood we picked for the tables—“

“Will you do it?” Carmy asks, fingertips tracing over the edge of the paper and coming away brushed with color—oil pastels. “Could you, I mean, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it like this.” He tells you, rubbing the tips of his fingers together and watching the color meld together before meeting your eye.

Your mouth is parted, eyes wide as you look at him, and he gets the urge to flick your bottom lip to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I,” you start to say, “Yeah. I can do it. If you want me to.”

“I do,” he says, too quickly. “Want you to. Paint it.”

Because what else would he be asking you to do? He wants to throw his entire brain into the blender on high.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll start tomorrow.”

He makes a mental note to make sure he’s there all day to peer through the windows and watch you work.

[harlowcomehome]

Pheromone perfume:

Requested by @exoticr0ses

You finished packing Jade's bag when Jack rushed into the room frantically checking his watch. “We have to go, like now!” His face was flushed and he was worried about being late, which wasn’t abnormal.

“Daddy we have plenty of time!” Jade giggled as she patted her dad’s leg. She was right, the drive was only about five minutes to Maggie and Brian’s house.

Jack cracked a smile, “I just don’t want to keep grandma and grandpa waiting” he told a white lie as he grabbed both Hazel and Jade's bag before running out to the car.

You grabbed your purse, spritzing on a new perfume before rushing to put it in your pocket and get both of the girls out of the door behind their dad.

“Did you remember the bag that was in the bedroom?” You raised your voice slightly so Jack could hear you over the car as you checked over the bags in the trunk before shutting it.

“It’s down here mom!” Hazel pointed to the bag under her feet as you slid into the passenger side of the car.

Jack had a lot on his mind lately and hadn’t heard you so you thanked Hazel as you started to make your way to Maggie and Brian’s place.

Jack smelled the air, side-eyeing you through his sunglasses. You hid a smile as you noticed before turning to the girls, “You two have to be on your best behavior this weekend okay?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior but I can’t make any promises for Hazey” Jade giggled poking fun at her older sister.

“I think it’s the other way around!” Hazel teased back making Jade giggle in her seat.

“What are you wearing?” Jack interrupted unable to pinpoint which one of your usual perfumes you had on.

“It’s new! A sample I got in the mail. Do you like it?” You batted your eyelashes dramatically at him as he readjusted in his seat.

“It’s different” he bit his lip as he pulled into his parent's driveway, they were waiting in the garage for the girls.

You and Jack gave both of the girls a hug and kiss goodbye, thanking his parents a final time for watching them for the weekend.

The both of you got back into the car and Jack was wearing a huge smile on his face, “Baby what is that? You smell so damn good.” He leaned over the center console to kiss your neck and breathe you in.

“Our windows are tinted but they aren’t that tinted, go!” You felt your face get warm as Jack let out a low raspy chuckle, putting the car in reverse.

The drive to the private airport felt like it was miles and miles away as Jack readjusted in his seat.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted” You tried to hide a smile, knowing exactly what you were doing as you fingered a stray curl that sat against his neck.

“Mhm,” he ran his tongue across the inside of his cheek, wondering exactly what you were up to.

When you pulled into the parking garage you got out of the car first, taking the small bottle of perfume out of your pocket and spritzing it on you again.

Jack walked around the back of the car, getting both of your suitcases as you got the bag from the backseat.

“I heard that” he leaned against the car, blocking you from walking past him. “What are you putting on?” He was eyeing you up and down, feeling overwhelmed by the thoughts swirling around in his head.

You couldn’t hold in your giggles as you reluctantly handed him the perfume bottle.

“Pheromone perfume? Is this that tiktok perfume?” His eyes got wide as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He walked over to you, smelling you again before he started to kiss your neck. He dropped the bags beside the two of you, causing an echo.

“Is it working?” You played coy, knowing it clearly was.

He leaned you up against the car, knowing the two of you were the only people in the parking garage. His hands explored your body, resting on your ass as he started passionately kissing you.

“I’m trying to get into the mile-high club on this PJ,” you said only half-jokingly through breaths.

“I can make that happen… again” he smirked reminding you it had already happened a time or twelve before.

“Oh yeah? Promise?” You looked into his eyes, knowing all too well with the look on his face that he wasn’t in the least bit joking.

“It’s our anniversary weekend, you already know you were getting this di-” he grabbed his crotch knowing there wasn’t anyone around to see.

“Jack!” You playfully slapped his chest before the two of you broke into a fit of laughter. You grabbed your bag and started to run to the plane with him following close behind you, his eyes zeroed in on your figure.

“You know damn well you don’t carry your own bags” he huffed as he followed you up the narrow steps into the private jet.

“Maybe I’m purposely pushing your buttons” you winked as he followed you to your seat.

[midnightsun-if]

How would ROs react to a Mc who is off in their own little world just playing with the ROs' hand before slotting both their hands together and holding it, just looking happy with themselves and not noticing the ROs watching them?

Koda: "I like this."

The soft statement, pulls you from your thoughts, causing you to meet gentle whiskey brown as Koda offers you a broad grin, his large hand encapsulating your own. You hadn't even noticed that he had turned to you and, from the looks of the darkened screen, had shut off his movie in order to give you his attention.

"Like what?" Your mind finally catches up on the sudden conversation, tightening your grip on his hand. "Me zoning out during one of your favorite movies?"

His grin widens further. "No," he replies, the rumbling sound of his laugh reminded you of the bear that lurked within him. "I like that you feel comfortable enough around me to do so. It makes me feel good knowing that I can bring you that much peace."

Surging forward, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, enjoying the way he takes the opportunity to turn into a hug. "Even if I should be paying attention?" You lay your head against his broad shoulder. "Turn the move back on, Koda. I know how much you enjoy this movie and I promised I'd give it a chance."

"I'd rather watch you any day."

Scarlett: You're startled from your thoughts when a delicate kiss is pressed to the inside of your wrist, you hadn't realized that you had zoned out that much, wherein you hadn't even been able to notice that Scarlett had shifted closer. Though that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? Scarlett made you feel more serene than you had ever felt before, a steady rock in the whirling storm, welcoming arms after years at sea, the feeling of home all wrapped up in one person-- all of this ensured that you ended up drifting off to the whims of your mind, surrounded by the presence of the woman you love.

"Penny for your thoughts, my heart?"

The raspy chuckle intertwined with the question, coupled with the sparkling glint within viridescent eyes, causes your face to heat up in slight embarrassment. "Wasn't really thinking," you admit, rubbing the back of your neck ruefully. "Was just off in my own little world, I suppose." You angle your head to get a better look at her, well aware that she hadn't let go of your hand, choosing to rub her thumb across your knuckles soothingly instead, and it causes a warm feeling to settle within your chest. "What were you doing?"

"Staring at mine."

Cyrus/Cyra: It's not one singular thing that pulled you from your thoughts, nor was it anything super apparent, but something had been tugging at your mind in order to get you back into the present, to become aware of your surroundings once more. It's only when you turn your head and meet gentle golden eyes that the reason became apparent, the loving smile curling their lips filled you with warmth and a familiar tug of affection at your heartstrings.

"Were you just going to continue staring at me as I played with your fingers?" You ask, a teasing note in your tone. "Or would you have stopped me at some point?"

They tilt their head, pale blonde hair shimmering in the light. "Why would I do that, my flame? You're quite the bewitching sight to behold. I don't see why I would deprive myself from something so beautiful?"

You roll your eyes, fondness settling within your body like a soothing balm to your soul. "One of these days you're going to get bored of staring at me, Cy."

"I don't think that could ever happen; I was made to look at you like the Sun was meant to look upon the Moon."

Quinn: "Having fun there?"

You shouldn't be as startled as you were, if you're being honest, as Quinn's presence hadn't exactly slipped your mind, but your body still gave a light jolt regardless. Something that elicits a gentle chuckle from the wolf at your side, sapphire blue eyes watching you with utmost affection. It's only now, as their familiar warmth spreads up your arm, that you realize you had intertwined their hand with your own.

"Sorry," you apologize, angling your head to look at them better on the couch. "Didn't realize I zoned out that much."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Quinn soothes. "Do I look like someone that needs one? I'm quite content where I am."

"Are you sure?" It's something you can't help but ask, to make sure that Quinn didn't mind simply sitting back and relaxing on the couch -- not when you knew that they had planned to go for a hike through the forest. "I don't want to keep you from where you wish to be."

"The only way you'd be able to do that is if you left my side."

Caden: "I-I should p-put on some gloves."

It's a statement so out of left field that you're instantly aware of your surroundings, and the panicking phantom that was looking down at your intertwined hands with growing concern.

"W--" You clear your throat. "What? Why would you need to put on gloves?"

Pale silver eyes look almost doe-like in their worry. "I don't wish for you to get cold. I know it can't be the most comfortable thing to be touching me for this long." Caden dips their head, dark curls falling across their forehead haphazardly. "I should put on some gloves."

You flex your fingers around theirs, fully aware at the cool feeling against your own skin, but it wasn't overall unpleasant, especially not when you could feel Caden skin-to-skin. "I don't mind it, Caden," you soothe, a gentle smile on your lips. "But if you'd like to let me go then I won't hold it against you."

"That's the last thing I could ever want."

Sloane: Their hand tightens around your own, pulling you from your thoughts, as you suddenly find yourself tugged into their side, the smell of smoke and something inherently them surrounding you, as they settle back into their own spot; either completely oblivious, or ignoring, your confused stare. However, as you knew they would, Sloane soon broke as they had never enjoyed being stared at.

"Why are you starin' at me?" They huff, finally leveling you with a look. "Do I have something on my face?"

A smile upturns your lips. "No. I'm just curious why you decided to cuddle." You smooth a hand over their abdomen, crinkling the fabric of their old band-tee slightly, as their own arm tightens around your shoulders. "Since we're in the living room, out in the open, don't you have a rep to protect?"

It's an old joke, one borne from finally getting them to watch Grease 2 with you, but Sloane simply peers down at you with an undecipherable expression, before they lean forward to press a light kiss to the tip of your nose.

"The only thing that I have to protect is in my arms right now."

Blake: You almost jump out of your skin when Blake settles firmly into your side, their arm wrapped snugly around your waist, head firmly planted on your shoulder. "You're too cute, angel." They poke your cheek, violet eyes peering up at you through thick lashes. "Don't you know that I can't keep my hands off of you when you act like that?"

Having known Blake for as long as you have, although getting used to the romantic aspect of your relationship was still new, you were well versed in the confusion they could cause, but even this took that cake. Something that must have shown clearly on your face as Blake's smirk only broadens further.

"What are you on about, Herrera?" You shake your head, careful not to dislodge them all the same. "Act like what?"

"Like I'm someone worth holding onto."

Reginald/Regina: "Do you want to watch something else?"

A gentle tug to your hand brings you from your thoughts, the sounds of fighting becoming more apparent as the movie played on, but gentle blue-green eyes held you captive: the easy way they hadn't let go of your hand, simply interweaving your fingers together more firmly, or the depth of the affection within the turbulent waves of their gaze, causes your breath to catch.

"If this isn't your cup of tea, I'll be more than happy to watch something else." They incline their head towards the television, a wry smile on their lips. "Cause if you're not enjoying this movie, I don't think you'll enjoy it when we get to the prequels."

You shake your head. "No, I want to keep watching." Even if it was only to see the passionate gleam in your favorite pair of eyes as they watched the screen. "Just got caught up in my own head for a bit, but I'm good." Attempting to lighten the mood, you tease. "I'm surprised you were able to notice, I know how involved you get with these movies."

"Never to the point where I wouldn't notice you."

[archangeldyke-all]

I just got the most random thought of ran and reader fucking while their on call with sevika I'm gnawing at the bars like JDJZKQ

BARK BARK BARK BARK

men and minors dni

"fuck, fuck, just like that baby, shit!" ran curses as their hands scrabble at the sheets under them. you bury your grin against their cunt.

your fingers are starting to cramp a bit, but it would take a fucking gunshot would to get you to pull out of your partner right now.

well, a gunshot wound, or ran's ringtone.

you both freeze. that specific ringtone is for sevika, and sevika only ever calls if something bad's happened.

"shit." you huff as ran's hand smacks around the bedside table for their phone.

"sev?" ran chokes out, out of breath an a little worried about what's got your girlfriend calling out of the blue.

there's some muffled talking on the line, and you watch in amusement as ran's smirk grows, their eyebrows rising on their forehead as they listen.

"she's right here." ran says, grinning. they pull their phone away from their mouth, and whisper down at you. "she's tryna have phone sex with me."

you snort. sevika only ever calls if something bad's happened, or she's horny.

"we're missin' you too, sevy." ran purrs, leaning back against the pillows. you nip their thigh, then start thrusting your fingers back in and out of them, grinning at the way they shiver. "n-nothing." they choke out, answering sevika's question. likely, 'what're you two doing?'

you bend down and suck ran's clit into your mouth, laughing as they whimper, which only makes them whine more.

you can hear sevika through the phone, her demanding, stern, "what the fuck was that?"

"n-n-nothing." ran moans.

"you're fuckin' without me?!" sevika gasps. you burst into laughter against ran's pussy, and they shove your face away with their palm.

"not anymore!" they whine.

"put me on speaker right now." sevika demands.

ran huffs, pulls their phone away and clicks a button, then flops back on the mattress.

"hey, sev." you greet before you start trailing kisses down ran's throat.

they hum happily, their hands coming up to grab your hips.

"i'm gonna fuckin' kill both of you when i get home." your girlfriend grunts. you snort against ran's neck-- from the sound of it, sevika's closer than they are.

"what, for havin' fun without you?" you joke.

"yes!" she shouts. "i'm at work, providing for out family-- you two could at least pretend you aren't fuckin' while i'm stuck with just my fuckin' fingers." she whines.

ran giggles.

"we'll take good care of you when 'ya get home, sevy." they promise. you duck down to suck on their tits, giggling as they squirm.

"fuck that, you're gonna take care of me now. i wanna hear 'y both cum grindin' your cunts together."

you have to pull away from ran's tit to groan out loud at sevika's words. "shit, sev." you whine.

ran's too busy scrambling to follow sevika's instructions to have a reaction. they're tugging you up their body, weaving your legs together.

"sh-shit, sev, we-we're ready." ran whines. you smile-- ran's so fuckin' cute when they wanna cum.

"who's on top?" sevika asks, her voice gravelly and rough. through the phone, you can hear the squelching sounds of her cunt. you whimper.

"me."

sevika sighs. "gonna fuck our pretty boy right for me, baby?" she asks.

ran melts at the nick name, and you giggle at the sight. leave it to sevika to find a way to boss both of you around when she's not even there.

"yeah." you respond.

"fuck. put the phone by your pussy, i wanna hear." sevika whines.

the words make you shiver, and you drop the phone a couple times before you set it down on ran's abs, the microphone pointed toward your cunts, starting a slow grind against ran.

they're soaked. you whimper. "oh, fuck baby."

"tell me." sevika demands.

"they're soaked." you whine.

"shut up!" ran cries, hiding their blushing cheeks behind their hands. you and sevika both giggle, and you start fucking ran even faster. "shit!" they squeal.

"fuck fuck fuck." sevika groans. "fuck, i can't wait to get home. shit-- fuck, i wish i had two mouths." she whines. you half giggle, half moan-- this is a common complaint of sevika's lately.

"'m gonna cum!" ran whimpers beneath you, their eyes glued to your tits, their hands clawing at your hips.

apparently, this tips sevika over the edge.

"fuck!" sevika curses down the line. you laugh as you listen to her cum, and then watch ran fall apart beneath you at the sounds your girlfriend's making on the phone.

you fall apart last, the sweet, overstimulated moans of ran beneath you, and the long, satisfied sigh of sevika on the phone pushing you over the edge.

you're not sure what happens after that. you fall asleep soundly on top of ran, your nose buried against their neck as they scratch your back and pepper your head with kisses.

you wake up to sevika gently kissing both of you awake, a mischievous look on her face at the sight of both her lovers naked and tangled together-- just waiting for her to get home.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie

[yrqrnc]

; shall we look at the moon, my little loon?

who would’ve known — existing under the stars with hwang hyunjin would, one day, become your favorite memory? perhaps, to love and be loved was never a myth, after all.

The sound of your laugh is light in the air; it flows with the wind and flutters up to the moon up above. Hyunjin is sure she loves it too, as he gazes at you with city-lights sparkling in his eyes, the same way you were gazing at the stars and their slow dance above, and he smiles.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever smile at anyone else the way he does at you and because of you.

And he thinks, perhaps taking you away from the loud crowd and city life, to here, this dreamscape that only the two of you know, was the best idea he’s ever had.

Life had been heavy, lately, for the both of you. You had your responsibilities to handle, your job, your bills, the budget, people around you whom you loved. You had your own struggles that weighed down on you, and if he’s sky-clear honest, he’s always admired how you manage to find your inner strength and hold onto it until it gets better again.

For him, you are that strength.

He’d never even realized it.

Falling in love with you had never felt like falling at all. It had felt like walking into a place that he was never really looking for, but then suddenly, realizing it had everything he had ever wished for. It felt like finding purpose; he found home, solace, strength, inspiration, all forms of art, and every sphere of love where he found you.

He would never tell you that, but as he watches you sway along without a care in the world to the soft tunes that blast out from the speaker he had brought to make the date better, he just really, really hopes with his entire being — that you have a fraction of idea of how loved you are, not only—though especially—by him, but numerous others as well.

You look so at peace in this moment. Your eyes are fixed onto the constellations above as you try to name each one of them, and your head tilts in the slightest as you struggle to remember the title of that particular cluster of stars.

And to him, you look just like a dream. His dream.

Their existence alone is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, whispers his heart, even as his head goes silent.

Suddenly, the playlist gets shuffled, and one of your favorite songs starts playing. And he thanks the universe for it, because he adores how your eyes shift from the stars to the speaker just slightly, and the way they light up with familiarity, and how, after that, for a quick moment, you just close your eyes shut from any kind of distraction, and let the beats and lyrics that you know by heart flow into your body as you stand under the freckled twilight sky.

And all along, he simply watches you exist, and with every second that slips away like that, he sinks deeper in love with you.

Down, down, and down,

but it feels like floating.

He could look at you a thousand times, from a thousand different lights, in thousand different places and under thousand different circumstances, and he knows he’d still love you either way, just the same – if not more – but never less.

Your eyes glisten with a playful fire as you turn your head over to glance at him, then, before he can process it, you grab his hands to pull him up and close for a dance. The fond look is never erased from his face.

If the stars above you could dance infinitely, so in love and so in peace, unbothered of taking any face of grace or perfection, why couldn’t you?

So, you dance. One hand of yours lays on his shoulder, slipping down to his chest sneakily, and the other holds on to one of his, as he grabs onto your waist with the gentlest of touches. You might have been the one that pulled him up, but he leads you with the steps.

You follow his footsteps mindlessly; your eyes trail over his face as you drink in every mole on his face and every scratch, and every faded crease. How his eyes shine an earthy brown in the nature, and how they crinkle into the prettiest crescent moon as he smiles.

You steal away some very few stars from the sparks above your existence, hide them in your heart and hold them closely, and secretly wish on them that you’ll forever be the only one who’ll ever get to see these details, and his face and him up so close.

Mindlessness, however, leads to silly mistakes, and it pushes you to step on his feet accidentally, not once but twice, too, almost tripping both of you clumsily. His laugh rings out into the open night sky and echoes out into the trees, and you follow, punching his chest with every intention of doing it when he teases you about how you need to step up on your dancing skills instead of him.

“Come on, love, we have an audience. Bring out the grace now. Dance with me. See, one step here, here, there and then…”

The audience he refers to, gaze down at the two young lovers in time in form of the universe and its children.

The moon smiles down softly, reminiscing of her own old times where she could float in the same sky as the sun, and the stars giggle and bicker and tease and whisper about you, and it’s all perfect.

This is what bliss looks like, this is how it feels. It is not the absence of sadness; it is the presence of love, and hope, and contentment, and peace, and joy, and you.

The wind is sweet, and your laugh is lovely to his ears, and he loves how you keep stepping on his toes every now and then, still, and now, as he holds your face in his hands, gently tucking your hair away from your face, and kisses you with soft lips and an even softer heart for you —

Hyunjin prays that this moment lasts an eternity, and that he gets to forever exist in time with you like this.