#which was too huge of an opportunity to pass

[supercantaloupe]

i had my zoom meeting with maestro and the assistant conductor today to talk about the manager job and it all sounds okay to me (i'll feel more comfortable about the whole arrangement once i can come in and shadow the last two rehearsals this semester and get a feel for the job in person) but it's a little funny how frequently maestro kept assuring me that. well if it sounds like too much work or just not something i am capable of or even want to do it's okay no pressure he'll be fine without me it's totally up to me don't sign on if you aren't absolutely one hundred percent okay with it and even if it's too much let me know because we can adjust the duties and help you out it's okay. and also him being like the pay isn't that good i'm going to try to ask for more money to pay you and the assistant conductor and maybe partially fund you if you go on tour with us next summer but it really should be more pay than this i'm sorry anyway here's like seven other ways you can make a little extra cash through related jobs like arranging extra parts for the orchestra and subbing on english horn as needed and maybe i can find some money for you to write program notes also have you considered teaching at the local music school it's a good way to get your foot in the door and make a little extra on the side sorry it's not much i hope it's okay for you

[harrysfolklore]

oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau

Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.

While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.

However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.

Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.

The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.

It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.

"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.

"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.

“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”

The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."

"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.

"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."

Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.

"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.

"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."

"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”

"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."

"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."

The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."

The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.

"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."

The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.

"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."

"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"

"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."

Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.

"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.

"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."

"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.

"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.

The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.

They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.

The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.

"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."

In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.

"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."

The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.

Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.

"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."

"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.

"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."

The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.

"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.

"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.

"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.

The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.

Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.

"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.

The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.

"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."

The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.

As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."

[rambling-at-midnight]

Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

DC taglist:

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts

Forever taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[reilemon]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his  shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

[importantpuppystarfish]

I fell in love with my sister

Male reader x Yuna

Warnings: Incest, totally blood related siblings

I had never thought I would fell in love with my own sister.

Maybe its because I have been watching too much stepsister porn which leaded me to have the same attraction over my own blood related sister. I had always wished I had a sister to fuck and luckily I found my sister attractive. My love for her has grown stronger ever since she became a member of Itzy.

Her busy schedule as an idol means I rarely get to see her at home; coming by once in a while to spend time with her family. I know its totally wrong to think of her like that but the way she dances and reveals a lot of skin lately makes me uncontrollable to have feelings for her. I have mastrubated quite a few times watching her fancams. My phone gallery is full of her hot fancams & images which I use to imagine nasty stuff. I’m sure plenty of guys think the same way about her, but I’m fortunate that she’s my sister.

I am not even sure if she is a virgin or not, who knows, her company managers might have taken some advantage of her body. I don't know if she feels the same for me. I am left wondering; could she possibly like me?

On a certain night, within the summer hiatus, she reappeared at home. She was dressed in extraordinarily short clothes that exposed her sexy waist. Our eyes locked, and a profound connection seemed to pass between us. We stare into each others soul through our eyes. The home seemed to be empty. Yuna asked curiously "Yo Oppa? Where's mom and dad?". “They’re currently away to village on some business,” I replied. Yuna’s lips curled into a smile as she bit them, displaying a seductive expression. "Guess we gotta be alone and sleeping together then!" said Yuna. I felt a surge of motivation and realized this might be my opportunity to express my feelings for her.

After she took a bath and changed into a T-shirt and shorts, the fragrance of her body was pleasantly appealing. Her body smell was better than flowers and it was turning me on so hard. We cooked the dinner together and had a few talks about our recent lives, how is it going and our memories when we used to live together. While preparing the meal together, we exchanged glances. I look a peek at her tits and ass a lot. It seemed she was aware of my gaze, yet she seemed comfortable with it.

After having dinner and brushing our teeth, it was time for bed. We both felt a subtle attraction between us. I went to toilet to pee. Yeah, I always had a habit of not locking my phone with a PIN or passcode since my parents did not know how to use smartphone so I thought it wasn't necessary. After coming out from the washroom, I realized I was in a difficult situation when I noticed Yuna was browsing through my gallery. She seem to be shocked to discover what she found.

Yuna ~ "So is this the reason you've been peeking at my body while we were cooking? Are you somehow sexually attracted over me?"

I started feeling submissive and scared at what she said.. She seem to be not angry but waiting for my reply.

Yuna speaks again ~ "It's ok.. I understand how boys feel, I know what would've been going through."

Yuna starts approaching towards me. Putting her hands over my arms, head to head looking at each other eyes. She leaned and kiss at my lips aggressively.. Our lips meeting each other aggressively. Her eyes closed but mines open in shock. The whole room was quite, we started getting sweaty due to tensions. She started sliding her tongue inside my mouth leading for a french kiss.. We kissed romantically exchanging our tongues and salivas through our mouth. The kiss lasted pretty long. She opened her tshirt and was wearing a simple bra. Oh god damn she looked like an angel. Yuna starts unbuttoning my pants and said in a freaky way smiling "damn its hard, isn't it? looks like the size is huge".. She made a wow expression in an impressed way looking at my dick.. I was shy and nervous what to do.. This was the time i feel it is heaven.. I never imagined my sister in this position in real life..

Yuna starts to put my cock inside her mouth, she started licking the head with her tongue and starts sucking it like a pro.. It seemed that she was already experienced, she sucked it very well with hesitation and i was moaning really loud in heaven.. I literally cummed inside her mouth that time without permission. Yuna seemed to swallow the cum inside her mouth already. She was smiling. I start making my first move by unbuttoning her bra. She helped me unbutton it, the bra fell off.

She seem to have pink nipples since her skin was really pale. Her tits were massive enough to squeeze really good with my hand.. I start squeezing her boobs, trying to put it on my mouth. She laughed a bit because i was nervous.. She lay down on the bed, allowing me to suck her tits. She put her hands on my head, moaning in joy.. I started exploring her body more downwards.. I started licking her belly, navel & thighs.. Her skin is so fucking delicious.. It was so warm. As i move more downwards, i pulled down her panties. Her pussy looks like flowers! How clean and shaved it is! It was damn wet as well.. I started eating her pussy without hesitation.. I can hear Yuna moaning.. She locked my face and mouth inside her pussy with her thighs & legs.. Eventually she was enjoying and calling me for a kiss to taste herself

We kissed passionately, enjoying each others breathe. Now I started getting out of control and wanting to slide my cock inside her. I started fucking her, it was my first time ever. It felt so good pounding her. Yuna seemed to enjoy her brother's dick inside her. I wanted to cum inside. "Yuna, do you think I should do this?" "Yes i want ur cum inside me oppa!" replied Yuna in excitement. "Oppa please! I want ur cum inside me! Breed me!"

I couldn't control anymore hearing at her sexual seductive words. I instantly cummed inside her without a 2nd thought. I leaned to her face for a kissed. We both French kissed passionately.. Laying both besides each other in the bed. Its late middle night.. All silent in the room.. We can hear our huge breathing. I asked Yuna "What about our parents? What will we explain about our children or should we do an abortion? "

Yuna replied in an odd way "I guess we have to hide them. Lets live together in a another place and start a family. I love you Oppa!". From that day, Yuna is my sister, my wife and the mother of my children!

[yukurie]

So I haven’t seen many dpxdc fics or prompts about the teen titans which I feel is a huge missed opportunity, I’ve seen a few with raven like “she’s his niece” or something like that but what about one where he has to do a double take?

Danny has been king for a long time and due to his half dead kingly status hasn’t visibly aged a day since his death, it’s been decades maybe even a century since the last person he grew up with passed: Jazz had given his hand one more squeeze and a sad smile before passing on to her afterlife, Tucker had told him a dumb joke then proceeded to laugh about it till he passed, Sam, oh Sam went kicking and screaming: unlike the other two who avoided looking in his eyes she looked at him and saw the loneliness and sadness in his eyes, his eyes that hadn’t aged a day as she laid on her deathbed of old age, despite her anger at leaving him alone she too did not leave a ghost behind. Danny still had Dani but her obsession of freedom kept her out and about more often than not exploring different worlds, dimensions, and planes of existence leaving Danny alone save for the full ghosts.

Danny for some reason is summoned whether by the titans themselves or by someone else and the titans just happen to be there is irrelevant but they are there and Danny sees them. He knows they aren’t them, he knows they barely even look or seem even partially like them but when he sees Starfire, Cyborg, and Raven for a split second he sees Jazz, Tucker, and Sam

I like the idea of a story like this where Danny sees people who are practically nothing like his long dead friends and sister but are just enough like them to make him do a double take and make his eyes that have likely hardened or filled with loneliness soften even if only briefly

[vbecker10]

Hey love, how are you doing? Hope you’re all good. Could you write a Bucky x fem!reader who has an eating disorder, but she hides it from the team and she does it successfully, but on one mission she passes out, which is weird because she’s one of the best. She says it was just because she didn’t feel well and everyone believes her, but not Bucky. He senses that something’s off and eventually finds out, because he leaves reader no choice but to tell him, and so she does.

I’m struggling with my ed and I would love it, but if you don’t want to write this, it’s totally fine! I am a huge fan of your work💚

I Want You to be Healthy

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) - established relationship / reader has an eating disorder

Summary: You pass out on the way to the jet after a successful mission. The team quickly accepts the excuse that you don't feel well but Bucky knows you well enough to know that you're lying. As soon as you are alone together, Bucky pushes you to open up to him about what truly made you pass out.

Warnings: Eating disorder, passing out, denying you have an eating disorder, feeling insecure about your weight & body image, keeping secrets from your friends and boyfriend, relapsing eating disorder

Background: Female reader has an Eating Disorder (a combination of anorexia and bulimia). Reader has the following behaviors: Skipping meals, frequent checking in the mirror for precieved flaws, constantly using a scale and tracking their weight, eating alone and at odd times of the day / night, exercising more frequently and more intensely than needed, not taking rest days or days off for injury, using the restroom soon after eating, making their own meals rather than eating what the team eats, often complains about needing to be healthy and talks about having to lose weight or gain muscle, thinking they are in control of their eating habits

A/N: Hi my lovely anon, I'm so sorry to hear you are struggling with your ED, I hope you can focus on yourself and get the help you need. I'm here if you want someone to listen 💚 Thank you for trusting me with this, I tried not to focus too much on the specific type of eating disorder since there are a few but I found some similarities between them when I was doing my research. I used those symptoms for this to make it a bit general. I hope this is okay 💚

I didn't tag too many people in this because I wasn't sure who exactly to tag, I won't be offend if you skip this 💚

Steve walks at the front of the group, one hand firmly gripped around the arm of a captured Hydra officer, her hands cuffed tightly behind her back. The mission was simple enough and more of you had gone than was needed but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to be out in the field. It was the only place you felt you belonged, where you could show the others on the team you were good enough to be here.

When Bucky had knocked on your door earlier this afternoon and asked if you were free to join them, you agreed eagerly. It was a welcome distraction from what you had been doing for the last hour, standing in front of your full length mirror, scrutinizing every inch of your body. The flaws in your physique are so glaringly obvious to you, you couldn't help but fixate on where you need to lose fat or gain muscle.

Bucky had smirked when you answered your door to him in nothing but a towel, he assumed you were having a lazy day after a relaxing shower. You hugged him tightly and told him you would get ready for the mission. There was no point in telling him what you had really been doing. A super soldier could never understand your daily struggle with your weight or the constant drive to be perfect. None of the Avengers could.

Natasha and Clint follow the captain closely, another captive officer walks with his head down between them as they discuss dinner. They quickly decide that since its Friday, they should get take out when they get back. There was no reason to make an excuse of course, take out was the easy option. Most of the team was either too busy to cook or had simply never been taught how to.

This meant you had to be even more careful because the food that was ordered was never healthy. Soon after you joined, you learned that it was easier to prepare all of your own food and eat in your room. Eating away from the team also meant they couldn't ask why your portions were what they considered small or why you were eating much later than them. It was none of their business anyways, you had told yourself often. As much as you would have liked their company, it was better this way. You could focus on your weight and health instead of answering all of their questions or dealing with their concerned opinions.

Bucky chuckles as he slips his arm around your waist, unaware of your thoughts. "I'm voting for spaghetti and meatballs, not that anyone asked me," he joins his friends conversation but you are barely listening.

Natasha checks to make sure Clint has a firm hold of the captive then she effortlessly turns, walking backwards smoothly through the thick leaves. "What do you want for dinner, Y/N?" she asks you with a smile, pointedly ignoring Bucky's comment which gets a laugh from Clint.

You don't answer, too distracted by the pain that is spreading deep in your stomach, the one that means you've almost reached your limit between meals. When you get back, you'll need to find something to eat, even if that means more time in the gym.

"Earth to Y/N," the spy waves at you to get your attention. When you make eye contact with her, she again asks what you want for dinner.

You shrug in response, the pain in your stomach growing as you walk. You know the type of answer she is looking for. Pizza, Thai, sushi. You could easily suggest any one of a hundred things but you can't. If you did, you would be expected to join them and that isn't something you are willing to do.

"Don't bother," Clint says when you are silent for a few more steps. His tone is relaxed but you worry he can tell what you are thinking. "You know Y/N never eats anything we order. We don't get anything healthy enough for her," he reminds Natasha. "Too much grease and fat and deliciousness."

"It's not my fault I'm the only one at the Tower worried about my figure," you roll your eyes at him.

Bucky laughs, his hand squeezes your waist, a part of your body you've always been self conscious about. "Your figure is perfect, doll," he smiles and you wish you could believe him but it's not that easy.

Natasha turns back to Clint, not missing a step and pats his stomach once. "Maybe you could learn something from her," she jokes.

"Hey!" he calls after her, sounding like an annoyed sibling. She laughs, jogging lightly towards Steve to hold the female officer while he opens the hatch.

Your ears begin to ring and the trees in the forest around you blend together, becoming hazy. Bucky kisses the top of your head and asks you a question but you can barely make out what he is saying. His voice is just above the ringing that vibrates in your mind. He looks down at you, his expression quickly turning to concern as he says your name but you don't respond.

You're light-headed and suddenly feel cold as your vision blurs more of your surroundings together. You take one more small step and stop, unable to continue forward. Bucky's hold on you tightens but you can't make out his words. You recognize what's happening to your body but only a second before you lose consciousness.

"Y/N," you hear Bucky say your name softly as he runs his metal fingers through your hair gently. Opening your eyes with a quiet groan, the jet gradually comes into focus but everything is sideways. You turn your head to look up at Bucky and realize your resting on his lap. "Slowly doll," he says, helping you sit up in the seat next to him.

"You okay?" Clint asks from the seat across from you.

You nod, still a bit dizzy, "Yeah."

"You had us all worried," Bucky says, his eyes not leaving you.

You shrug, hoping a few simple lies will calm everyone including yourself. It's been almost three years since you passed out from not eating. The last time it happened, your eating disorder had spiraled out of control for the second time and your family urged you to get treatment. It couldn't be happening again though, you think desperately. You are in control of your eating habits this time, you had just accidentally gone too long without eating.

"I felt kinda sick this morning. I know I probably should have stayed home but this sounded like a really quick mission," you offer an explanation that sounds likely.

"Next time you tell us if you don't feel well enough to go out," Steve says sternly from the pilot seat of the jet.

"Will do cap," you plaster on a smile to hide the wince from the dull ache in your stomach and salute him. This earns you a huff and a dramatic eye roll from the blonde super soldier.

"Good, can't let anything happen to the second best spy on the team," Natasha says with a smirk as she opens some files on her tablet.

You force out a small laugh, "Second best?" Then you look at Bucky who still hasn't taken his eyes off of you. He doesn't seem to have accepted your excuse as readily as everyone else but he also knows you better than anyone. "Are you going to let her talk about your girl like that?" Hoping the joke with Nat will distract him from his concern for you.

Bucky responds with a smile almost as fake as yours and says, "Of course not doll."

"Hey," Tony says when he spots you coming towards him in the hall. "How are you feeling? I heard to passed out in the field today."

"I'm okay, just a bit dehydrated," you tell him, holding up your bottle of water as proof.

"Okay, just try to be more careful next time," he tells you and you agree to as you continuing towards your room. "You're not gonna eat with us? Nat ordered from this new Mexican place."

"I'm still feeling a little off," you touch your forehead lightly and he nods. It's an easy excuse and it slips out before you even realize you've said it. You take a few more steps down the hall then add, "I'll see you all in the morning for training, though."

"Only if you're feeling up to it," he says and you give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He smiles, shaking his head when you turn away from him again. "You're allowed a rest day you know," he calls after you. You continue towards your room without responding, you know that's not true.

A soft knock on your door interrupts your reading and you get up to see who it is. "Hi Bucky," you greet your boyfriend warmly but he doesn't offer you a hug or even a smile in return.

"Can we talk?" he asks in a serious tone and you nod, letting him in as your heart races. Those three words send panic through your body in an instant. You freeze as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "Come sit, doll," he taps the bed next to him lightly without looking at you, his eyes still fixed on his hands.

You walk over and sit next to him silently. What do you two need to talk about that is making him this uneasy, you think. The only answer that surfaces is that he's come to end your eight month relationship, but why? Did you do something wrong, had you forgotten something, your mind races in search of an answer.

He takes your hand in his metal one gently and takes a breath to steady himself which only makes you more nervous. "Y/N," he starts slowly, "I love you so much, you know that right?" He lifts his head to look at you and you nod, too anxious to speak.

"I'm going to ask you this once," he says, "And please, don't lie to me." You bite your bottom lip, searching his face for any hint of his question. "Why did you really pass out on the mission today?" he asks.

You feel the smallest hint of relief that this isn't about your relationship but then you are instantly filled with a different type of fear. Has Bucky figured out what you've been hiding from him, from everyone? Does he know about your eating disorder returning and your worry that you're losing control? Your mind fills with all of your most easily accepted excuses, hoping that you can convince him you are okay.

Before you can open your mouth, he shakes his head. "I need the truth doll," almost as if he can see the lies forming.

"I-" your words stick in your throat and you look away from Bucky, your eyes roaming around your small room. You focus on the high tech scale positioned in front of the tall, full length mirror you spend so much of your time in front of.

He cups your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his, "Talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong, Y/N."

"I'm fine, I promise," you tell him in the most sincere voice you can, kissing his cheek softly. "I told you, I was just feeling a little under the weather today. It's not a big deal."

"You didn't eat again today," he states, no hint of a question in his tone. You're in too much shock to begin defending your reasoning for skipping a meals when he adds, "You've been missing meals a lot lately, haven't you?"

You nod, suddenly feeling caught which makes you feel both guilty and embarrassed. Bucky is the one person on the team you have always been able to confide in, even before you started dating but this was something you wanted to keep even from him. It was the reason you forced yourself to eat when you went on dates with him but you always found a way to excuse yourself and use the bathroom soon after. Had he noticed that too, you worry.

"How long do you think you can go without eating?" he asks but you don't want to admit you know the answer. Since college, you've developed a pretty good sense for how long you can go between meals, today truly had been a miscalculation. Instead you simply shrug as you guage whether or not you can convince Bucky you missed those meals by accident.

"Y/N," he says when you are quiet. "You can't keep doing this."

You chew the inside of your cheek, this conversation reminding you too much of the one you had with your parents the first time they caught you hiding and throwing away your food. Your eyes flicker away from his and back as you start to realize you might be struggling more than you thought.

His jaw tightens and his gaze follows yours to the scale and mirror then he sighs. "I should throw those stupid things out," he says, more to himself then to you.

"No," you respond quickly and he furrows his brows when he looks back at you. "I need them," you try to explain, your body tensing at the thought of being without them even though they do nothing but cause you anxiety and distress. "I have to keep checking..." your voice trails off, you don't want to open up any further. You don't want Bucky you judge you.

"Checking what?" Bucky asks, hoping you will let him in.

"I have to keep checking my weight," you finish and you find yourself suddenly unable to hold the rest in. "I've always been just a little over from where I need to be with my weight." You look down at your body as you sit next to him, you can easily envision all the flaws you saw in the mirror this morning. "I'll get there, I'm close," you tell him as if he's the one you need to convince and not the small voice that dictates what you can and cannot eat.

You had been focused on your weight for almost your whole adult life and never reached your target. It doesn't matter that the target keeps shrinking anytime you are even remotely close. A few times, you had almost reached the number you thought would finally mean you were perfect only for the small voice to disagree. It would insist you could still lose more weight or you had put on too much muscle or needed more muscle or any number of things. Each time your goal changed, your eating habits became stricter and your workouts became more intense.

Bucky cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin lightly, "What are you talking about? You're in the best shape of anyone on the team. You're perf-"

"No," you shake your head, pulling free from his fingers. "I'm far from perfect, you of all people should know that. You're a super soldier, you were practically built to be perfect," you tell him and Bucky's metal hand twiches as he removes it from your waist. "I knew you wouldn't understand," you add with deep a sigh.

"I want to understand. I'm worried about you," Bucky says but you don't look at him.

"You don't need to worry about me," you say, shifting away from him on the bed. You feel yourself becoming defensive and worried he will want you to stop checking your weight and eat more. "I'm fine, I told you. Why can't you just leave it alone?"

"Because you're not fine," he says, his voice raising a bit to show his frustration, not at you but with the situation. "You don't eat, Y/N, not nearly enough and I've seen the way you push yourself too hard when we train. I kept telling myself you knew what you were doing and you would stop if you needed to but then today..." he shakes his head as his voice trails off for a moment.

"Today was an accident," you insist but you're less sure of yourself then you had been. "I have it under control. If I had known about the mission beforehand, I wouldn't have gotten sick."

"You didn't get sick, you passed out," he says and you can see he's becoming more upset by the conversation and the fact that you will not listen to him. "What if that had happened in the middle of the mission? What if we had been somewhere more dangerous and I couldn't get to you? You've gone on solo missions, no one would have known what happened to you."

You get up quickly, needing to distance yourself from Bucky's questions and concern and the doubt they are creating in you. You pace around your room, trying to absorb his words but you don't want to believe he's right. You don't want to admit that you're not okay again.

Without realizing it, you walk towards your mirror and tap the scale with your foot. Bucky gets up, coming over to you but your eyes are fixed on the scale. You tap it again and it turns on, the zeros blinking slowly as you remember the number that stared at you this morning.

"I get that your worried about your weight-" he starts but you cut him off.

"Of course I'm worried about it," you look up, folding your arms around your body tightly. "You have no idea how easy it is to gain weight, one little slip and I could lose all my progress. I have to watch everything I eat and workout so I can be good enough to be here, so I can be perfect," you voice your inner thoughts to Bucky for the first time. "I can't just stop," you tell him.

He moves closer to you, removing the empty space you created between the two of you and you begin to feel nervous again. "I want you to be healthy," he takes your hand in his, pulling you away from the scale.

"So do I, that's why I need to do this," you argue but you feel defeated, as if you are only moments from admitting you know he is right.

He shakes his head, his metal arm rests on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. "What you're doing is the opposite of being healthy, doll. Can you see that?"

You look up at him, seeing the concern fill his eyes and you know you can't deny it any longer. You bite your lip and nod slowly, "I think I need help."

"I'm here doll," he responds softly.

"This isn't-" you struggle to find the words and he gives you time, holding you quietly. "This isn't the first time this has happened," you tell him honestly. Bucky holds you silently as you tell him about your struggles with your eating disorder and how you have relapsed previously after getting treatment. He doesn't ask questions or interrupt you, his hand moves gently up and down your back as you open up completely. When you finish, he wipes your tears softly and kisses your forehead.

"I thought I was okay," you tell him, your voice breaking. He pulls you flush against his body, wrapping his arms around you.

"You will be," he assures you and you rest your head on his chest, hoping he is right. "You are the strongest person I have ever met, you can do this. I will help you any way I can, I promise."

You pull away to look up at him, realizing you'll be gone for at least a few months for treatment. "What am I going to tell everyone?" you ask him, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. It was one thing to break down and admit to Bucky that you had an eating disorder but it was an entirely different thing for the Avengers to find out. "I don't want the team to know," you shake your head, worried about their reactions.

He cups your cheek and you look up at him again, "Don't worry about the team or anything else, doll. I will take care of them and everything else. The only thing I want you to do is focus on getting better, on being healthy again." He gives you a hopeful smile and says, "I'll tell them we're going to visit your family. Fury will approve the time off, it shouldn't be an issue."

You sniffle in response then smile slowly, "We?"

He nods, "If that's okay with you. I know there are things you'll need to do alone, but I want to be close, in case you need me. I want to be there for you, every step of the way."

You wipe a tear quickly with the back of your hand and nod, unable to express how much Bucky's offer means to you in words. Instead, you reach up and press your lips to his softly, holding onto him tightly. Pulling away slightly, you look into his eyes and tell him, "I love you."

He smiles, running his fingers through your hair gently, his metal arm still holding you close. "I love you too, Y/N. You will be okay, I promise you will get through this."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @mochie85 @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lulubelle814 @siconetribal @jiyascepter @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @dracoswhorexx @lokiandbuckysdoll

[lovverletters]

bring back yan!bully 🙏🙏 i miss him, don't kept him in basement too long, pookie (╥﹏╥) anyway i love you and i hope you have great day/night 💗

-🦈

Yandere! Bully

A/N : Revamped version of my little gremlin Darius💞🐰

T/W : harassment, death threats,possessive behaviour.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[Name] gripped the strap of their bag tighter in their hand to calm their nerves as they stared at the huge building before them. They had recently moved to another city after their parents had been offered a job opportunity.

They were in an unknown territory, having no knowledge whatsoever of this new place.

"Calm down [Name]. There's nothing for you to be scared of!" [Name] tried to convince themself, rubbing their sweaty palms on their shirt.

Walking inside the building, they were surprised by the spaciousness of the hall. They were expecting a packed hall filled with students around their lockers but were pleasantly surprised to see the opposite.

They could already hear the whispers of the people around them, almost all of them having mentioned about this Darius person. [Name] were intrigued, what kind of a person is this Darius?

[Name] didn't have to wonder for too long as their question was immediately answered by a harsh shove into the lockers.

"Ugh... what the hell?" They groaned as their back stung from the impact.

Looking at the person who were guilty of shoving them, their [E/C] eyes clashed with the vibrant golden irises that narrowed with amusement as if he was a predator watching his helpless prey trying to escape.

"You're a fresh meat. I can tell from how you look like you've lost your mommy in a store" He spat out in a condescending tone.

This must be the Darius the students have spoken about. A total dickhead apparently.

[Name] weren't having it, they're not going to let this man to ruin their first day. They ducked under his arms that was caging them to the lockers and ran away. It's better to walk away than be subjected to whatever the guy was planning to do to them.

Darius blinked, stunned at [Name]'s action. That's it? They don't even spare him a glance──not an ounce of reaction. Annoyance, fear, anger──none!

He was offended by their lack of reaction to him. Darius swore to himself that he'll coax a reaction out of them, be it them screaming into his face or crying.

He'll make sure of it.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"What's your favourite movie?" Here comes his random trivial question about [Name] of the day.

Eversince their encounter, Darius had become a persistent presence around [Name]. He would throw snarky remarks at them and try to pick on them whenever they would pass him at the halls or god forbid they share a class with him.

After a while though, [Name] noticed that Darius had become genuinely interested in them as a person. He would frequently try to make small talks or asked them trivial questions about them.

" [Favourite Movie]. Why'd you ask? You wanted to take me out?" [Name] teased.

"Yeah I'll take you out──in a fight" Those hint of crimson on his cheeks says otherwise though.

"I don't think s──"

[Name]'s words where abruptly interrupted by an empty can of soda hitting them. They hissed at the impact of the can hitting the back of their head and turned to see the one responsible of throwing it.

Fucking. James.

It seems like someone has decided to take up the role of picking on them since they had 'tame' Darius. The aforementioned man seems to not take kindly to James throwing the can at them.

He stood up from his place beside [Name] and walked towards the table in which the bully-wannabe was sitting, the soda can in hand. [Name] watches James practically paled as Darius stood before him with a menacing smile.

"Here. I think you lost something"

Before James could take it from Darius's hand, his face was smashed by the can of soda, the can denting from the force of the impact.

"You bother [Name] again and I'll have you dead the next day" Darius sneered, each words laced with venom.

[Name] along with the rest of the students who were in the cafeteria were left in shock. The Darius just stood up against a bully?

"Wh──what was that for?" [Name] asked Darius as he took his place beside them again.

He shrugged, stealing a fry from their lunch.

"Making sure everyone knows that you're mine. Only I can pick on you, got that?"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[randomdragonfires]

Pieces of a Woman | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Even when his life takes a turn for the worse, Aemond Targaryen endures.

WARNINGS | 18+; Canon Divergence AU; Smut; Insanity; B&C; Gore; Delusions; Miscarriage; Yearning; ANGST

WORD COUNT | 7.2k

A/N | This is my personal favourite out of all the stories I've ever written, reposted with a new header and all that fun stuff! Beta read by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs ❤️

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins. 

They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment the madness had sunk its claws into his wife. He had watched as her once bright and hopeful eyes became empty and devoid of emotion. He had watched as she was pulled into the darkness completely, becoming a shell of the woman she once was.

As much as he wished he could turn back time, he had accepted his fate. He accepted that he would never have his wife back. He would never hold her in his arms again and never get to lay his head on her lap as she embroidered. She would never read to him in her mellifluous voice ever again, despite the fact that he would give everything he had to have her with him once more. 

What good was all this power and wealth, if he could not protect his own family? What good was his title as Prince Regent, if he did not have her to stand by his side? If he could not protect his little boy?

His hair, once braided to the side by her deft and nimble fingers with love, remained uncared for, left loose in all its glory. Training his one dark-rimmed, tired eye at the crypt that held the ashes of his heir, Aemond Targaryen let the sadness take him - for when his son’s life was brutally snuffed out, his wife’s very soul had been too.

There was nobody to blame for it all apart from himself.

Ever since their wedding, she had been a steady and calm presence in his life. She was the quiet to his rage, the water to his fire. He had always been a sullen and lonely child that harbored resentment for those who had wronged him, but he felt his heart steadily calm down with every moment he spent in her presence.

It wasn't until he met her that he realized he was lacking love and consideration, both of which he believed had never received before - not like this. She gave him an opportunity to be a better man; one that he took eagerly with both arms. 

In return, he was a respectful husband who did his very best. He wasn’t adept at great gestures of love, but he always made sure that his wife woke with a kiss to her hair and his arms enveloping her body. He wanted her to never know loneliness for as long as he lived, he would make sure of it. 

For all his reading and knowledge, Aemond was not good at making his appreciation known verbally. Instead, he would bring her huge tomes from the library so he could read to her. These books covered topics that he was passionate about, so everytime he brought one, he was offering up a part of his soul. Who better to give it to than the woman he has sworn his heart, soul and loyalty to? 

He needed her. He needed her from deep in his soul, and he needed her carnally, always. She was all that was missing in his life, and now that he had her, he would always need her. 

But right now, as her screams erupted through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, Aemond’s heart lurched in his chest, becoming heavier with each passing moment. The babe was arriving, and it would seem that the child was taking her for all that she was. Everytime she groaned in pain, he held onto the railing tighter than ever, as though it would make her pain go away.  

They would not let him in, no. Childbirth was a woman’s fight, and the men would have to wait outside - much like the women did when the men went to battle. There was nothing he would not give to hold her hand right now; to tell her that she would be an absolutely beautiful mother, and that all she had to do was summon all her strength and emerge victorious. 

As though she had heard his thoughts, her pained wails slowly died down, replaced by the first cries of a newborn. Boy or girl, the babe had an incredibly strong pair of lungs on them, their mighty cries could overshadow even the loudest of thunderstorms. The cries echoed through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, and the servants outside immediately jumped to work. A new royal babe had been born after all - there was work to be done, celebratory feasts to be organized, chambers to be prepared, nothing but the best for a Targaryen.

His mother stepped out of the chambers and laid a hand on his back in comfort. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled in congratulations. “Mother and babe are well, my son. She has made me so proud. The little one is beautiful, he would go on to achieve many great things. Just like you.”

A son. She had given him an heir to carry his bloodline. How would he ever repay her? 

He walked into the chambers with speed that he did not know he possessed, his purpose made clear with each stride. The midwives and maids moved to make way for the One-Eyed Prince, and in he went. 

She laid in the middle of the chambers, looking like she had braved the worst experience of her life. Her hair was askew, with sweat coating her entire body, her fatigue was palpable. Blood and waters coated the floor, and the chambers smelled like death. The bloody spots on her shift alarmed him, and it concerned him to see his usually happy and energetic wife look so thoroughly worn out. But then she smiled. 

Through all her weariness from the challenges of the birthing bed, she had meekly smiled at him - and all was alright in his world again. He held her cheek in his palm and kissed her forehead, heart full from knowing that she was alright. She reached for his other hand, holding onto it like it was the last thing that kept her tethered to reality.

“Are you well, wife?” 

The seemingly simple question certainly did not project the waves of concern that had plagued him outside while he waited with bated breath, but she knew. She saw it in the crinkles on his forehead and the widening of his good eye.

“I am now.”  

She had braved battle, and had never looked more beautiful to him than she did now. Her voice was hoarse from all the pained screaming, and she certainly had no business being awake right now - but by the Gods, he was the happiest man in the realm. 

The maids were done with wiping the blood off of the babe and had handed the boy to her. Aemond knew right then that he would have to compete for his wife’s attention from then on, for his little son had clearly stolen her heart, and his, within moments of his birth. 

Her weak voice called out to him once more. “Aemond, husband… look what we made.” 

He was exquisite. Aemond reached out to the babe, his son, and his son's pudgy rose finger latched onto his long, sturdy one as he continued to cry. “He has a strong grip. He shall be a storied warrior." She smiles at the possibility, and he cannot help but kiss her hand once more.

"You’ve given birth to a boy as strong as you are, wife.” He watched as she nudged her nose to the babe’s and smiled, her face glistening from sweat and tears. His newborn son’s cries got louder with each passing moment, but despite being a man of silence and solitude, Aemond had never felt more at peace.

“Thank you.”

Aemond would be the first to deny that he was a doting paragon of a husband that the bards would sing about, but he certainly was a good man who loved and respected his wife. 

In the days that followed the birth of his child, he had spent every waking moment that he could spare with the pair of them. Both mother and son had the fierce One-Eyed Prince wrapped around their fingers. Between sparring sessions and battling his family’s idiosyncrasies on the daily, his little family had given him quite the reprieve, one that he was infinitely thankful for. 

But now, his son is gone, and his wife is too.

“The heirs need to be kept safe. The twins, little Maelor, all three of them,” his mother said.

He may be in the middle of a war, but it was moments like these that seemed hardest to him. Aemond sat quietly by the hearth, in the very same chair where he always rested. His wife used to sit by him or at his feet as she embroidered. Now, her absence was a gaping hole each time he sat.

“Aemond…”

He turned to the sound of his grandfather calling out his name, looking cold and calculated.  It did not escape Aemond that he was discussing the safety of his brother's children while he had lost his own child. The irony of it all was stark and jarring.

“Yes,” he curtly responded.

“It is in our best interests that you…” His grandfather paused midway through his words, and Aemond knew well that the man did that only when unsettling news was to follow. “...that you take a new wife. We’re in need of an alliance, and she can be sent to the motherhouse at Oldtown. She will be cared for, she will be fed-”

He saw red. “My son is dead!” The words tumbled out of Aemond’s mouth like shards of glass before he could even comprehend the gravity of his grandfather’s heavy, cutting words. 

"My son’s death is on my conscience, his blood is on my hands. I did not do the deed myself, but it certainly feels like I was the one who wielded the knife that killed him.” The people had taken to calling him a kinslayer, and Aemond felt it in his bones everyday - not because of Lucerys Velaryon, but because of how his rash actions had resulted in the death of his little boy.

“My son is dead, and my wife has not been the same ever since. How do you think I can start a new family, with a new woman, when I know very well that I have caused all the grief that has driven my wife to madness? When I caused the death of my own child?” 

Aemond Targaryen always made for a menacing sight, but his grandfather was not prepared for the kind of anger that his grandson had kept stored in him - for himself, his wife, and his son. They were not here, and he was angry enough for all three of them.

The Dowager Queen watched the entire conversation unfold, and she held her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat become frantic with each moment that she saw her son in distress. She knew how content he was in his wife's presence, and how much he loved her. To watch a child grow and fester in his own resentment - no mother should have to witness it. And yet, the Gods saw fit to give Alicent Hightower the closest view to her son's heartbreak.

“Get out,” he seethed. Otto Hightower took Aemond’s raw and angry words in stride before walking away, his head still held high. 

His mother stood in front of him, held his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, my boy. I’m so sorry…”  

She wept until she could not, and it took everything Aemond had in him to not do the same.

When he tossed and turned in his bed in the middle of the night, he would always reach out for her. 

She would always welcome his touch and curl into him, her forehead resting on the smooth planes of his chest and her warm breath making goosebumps rise on his skin. He would hold her tight until neither could ascertain where one ended and the other began, and sleep that normally eluded him would come to him faster than anything else.

Tonight, her spot on the bed is empty.

When he woke in a hurry, he noticed the crumpled sheets and the pillows left askew, the only evidence of her having retired to bed alongside him. He quickly rose from the bed and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, wondering as to where she could have gone at this ungodly hour. 

Gods, was she hurt?

He did not have to wait for the divine deities to answer, for his answer came in the form of the sweet humming sounds that he had grown to love. He followed her voice as he walked through their apartments, and it led him to the chamber where his son’s crib was kept. She was sitting next to it in her white shift, her head peeping in as she let her hands rest on the crib. She hummed softly and happily, marveling at how beautiful her little boy looked as he slept - looking much like the man she shared her bed with.

Aemond wanted to ask her to come back to bed immediately. The maesters had advised lots of rest for his wife, given the stress of the labors and the damage her body had taken. But as he watched her and his boy, he knew he couldn’t. He needed a moment to drink in the sight of his wife and son - his entire world, all in one chamber.

He held so much love in his heart for them both despite seeing them only with one eye. Perhaps he’d be able to love them more if he could see them with two.

“He’s going to be there when we wake, wife. Come back to bed.”

She turned to him and smiled, a warm smile that he wished he could brand into his mind for all eternity. “Did I wake you?”

“You did not. Your absence from our bed did.” 

She chuckled softly, and he walked over to her. He positioned himself behind her chair and kissed her temple, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. “I don’t think I shall ever tire of looking at him,” She said.

“Hm.” His gaze rested on the sleeping babe, tired from all his crying throughout the day.

“My son, a dragon prince,” She mused. “He’ll be charming, strong and intelligent, just like his father.”

At that, he chuckled darkly and she rose, turning around to face him. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into her touch, leaving a light kiss on her wrist as he held her hand in place. “What’s so amusing, husband?”

“Charming is not the first word anyone would use to describe me, wife.”

“Well, you are. To me.” Her whispering siren-like voice was like music to his ears. 

She reached up on her toes and left a light kiss on his brow, and Aemond was quick to hold her to him by the waist, wanting to have this - this quiet solace - all to himself for a time.

Who was he to argue with the woman around whom his entire world revolved? The very one that held his heart in her hands?

He stands in the middle of what used to be their shared chambers and sighs. 

The entire room is covered in pieces of her - fragments of her that he desperately clings to for dear life. Robes and dresses that she had not worn in a long time, but still manage to somehow retain her scent. Quills and ink that she used to write her correspondence with, now left to gather dust. Ten Thousand Ships, her favorite book, one that he had given to her as a name day present, laid abandoned on the bedside table. 

This was the very same chamber where he had claimed her. This was where he had first admitted to loving her. This was where she had told him that she was with child. This was where they had spent countless nights talking well into the night, their bodies entwined and voices coming out in hushed whispers and low giggles. This was where they had discovered and learned of the passions of the marital bed, together. This was where their marriage had grown and bloomed.

If he walks a little further, his feet will take him to the adjoined room where his son used to sleep - but try as he might, he does not have the strength for that. Not yet.

He sits by the edge of their bed, the sunlight passing through the windows in streaks of yellow gold. He closes his good eye, hoping for a little time to adjust to the light. Perhaps if he closes it hard enough, he will be able to picture her sitting by the window with her focused eyes trained on her embroidery or one of his books, waiting for him to come back to her after his daily duties. 

His nose flares at the unearthly reminder that his wife is no longer his by side. She had been full of happiness and life, and she had brought light into his life. He welcomed it for as long as she was around, but now that she was gone, he closes his eye and avoids it like the plague, much like he does with the sunlight that now warms his skin.

Her world has become dark because of him. How can he sit in the light in good conscience, when he knows he has lost all right to it?

The waves crashed by the shores of Blackwater Bay and she sat on the sands, watching them. She had a book in her hands, and a basket of food that she had the maids prepare for them to take.

Her eyes closely followed her husband as he held their baby son’s hands upright, his little pudgy feet resting over his huge boot-clad ones as he led them forward. The little boy’s gurgling and laughing echoed through the wind, and she took a bite of a juicy apple while holding a book in her other hand. 

They were the picture of a happy family, the stories of whom may be immortalized in songs for years to come.

He had not yet begun to walk, and his words were all a blubbering mess - but Aemond Targaryen was not known for being patient. He insisted on guiding his son to his feet so his first steps would come to him quicker, and spoke to him in High Valyrian in hopes that his first words would be in his native tongue.

Her boys had walked all the way toward her with her baby’s toes pressing onto Aemond’s feet harshly. He picked him up and held him then, and his son’s hands landed on his eyepatch. It had become his favorite little plaything these days - the boy took to wrangling it off his father’s head and swinging it with his two fat fingers until he grew tired - that was if he did not notice the sapphire first. By the Gods, if he did, he would insist on taking that off to play with too. His son, like him, had a taste for the finer things in life, it would seem.

“He’s taken well to the waters, I think,” she said. Her fondness for the little lad and her husband was evident in her face as she watched them. Her son had taken to swinging his arms in all directions, occasionally hitting his father’s face.

“Water does not mix with fire and blood. He should not be taking so well to the waters.”

“Suppose he can embrace it all then. Perhaps he’s… special.” She rose to meet her son’s eyes, leaving a kiss on his cheek. The boy smiled, a handful of his father’s alabaster hair in his hands as he pulled. Aemond winced, and she giggled. 

“Zaldrītsos…” Aemond murmured, a quiet plea to his son to stop. It fell on deaf ears, but he did not mind. [Little dragon]

A maid had come to inform them that their presence was requested in the keep, and Aemond handed the boy over to her before walking back to give his wife his hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and rubbed her hand with his before leading them away, their steps slow and relaxed.

“We should have another,” she said. Her smile, the source of all his content, was as bright as the sun. “You should take me tonight,” she murmured then, eyes quickly blackened by lust. He watched as the girl with childish wonder transformed into a seductress, and he lost even before he tried - defeat had never felt sweeter.

He could never deny her anything she wanted.

“Do you want me, wife?” He muttered darkly as he halted his steps, turning towards her. He held her by the waist and kissed her brow, waiting for her to respond. 

“I always want you,” she murmured, eyes fluttering at the closeness of his lips. Her bright eyes sought his lilac one as the sound of the waves rippled through the air. “I also want to bear you another child. Would you like that, husband? Another little babe for us to love…”

He nodded and kissed her, pouring all his passion into it as he devoured her lips. “You do look beautiful, belly round and full with my child.”

That night, he choked her name out like an urgent prayer while he spilled into her, his peak following soon after hers. He then peppered kisses across her face and neck as the smell of sweat and coupling engulfed them, while she held onto his hair and let her hand wander over it in a soothing manner. He rubbed a hand over her belly, praying that his seed had taken. If not, he would seek her out and touch her everywhere once more - he would never be tired of her.

If another child was what she desired, then she shall have it - for how could he ever deny her?

The burns and injuries had ruined any spirit Aegon may have had as King.

He had watched his brother as he grew into a fierce protector of his family soon after being crowned. Ser Criston had made clear the dangers that they posed to Rhaenyra with their very existence, and it was all Aegon needed to grow into his role as the rightful monarch. However, he had gotten ahead of himself and underestimated his skills as a dragonriding fighter and gotten himself hurt.

Aemond’s role as Prince Regent was something that he slid into seamlessly - he had always known that he was the better fit for the throne after all. His first action was to ensure the safety of his own wife, Helaena and her three children.

“They’ve been moved to our father’s old chambers. Deep in the Holdfast, far away from any possible intru-”

“I know where the chambers are, Aemond. Will you shut up? You’re giving me a headache.” Aegon interrupted, words slurred as he sipped on Arbor Red. The wine sloshed in the cup as it moved in his unsteady hands. 

His eyes were trained on his brother, a tired and tested man who was now incharge of running a Kingdom. Aegon knew that the crown was heavy, but it did not compare to the weight of the world that Aemond always carried on his shoulders. It only seemed to have gotten worse since his son’s death and his wife’s isolation.

“Does she fare any better?”

“No.” It is all Aemond wishes to say on the matter.

While he may not want to speak of the family he had lost, Aemond knew that he would protect those he was left with every breath in his body if need be. He may not have been there for his little boy, but he would die before he let a hair on any of his remaining family members’ heads be touched. The regret of being an inadequate husband and father pricked at him like the heat from the bright blaze of the fire in the hearth, and he walked out with purpose.

He knew where he was going next. After all, his feet always carried him to her at nightfall.

When Aemond came home dripping wet from the rain that had drenched him at Storm’s End, he was convinced that he had ruined everything good that he had. He could not imagine a simple scratch on his little boy without feeling angered - how could he expect Rhaenyra to simply accept her son’s death? 

He had to get them safe. He had to keep them safe. He had to keep them safe. Safe, safe, safe.

She had just left the babe with the nursemaid and come to their chambers to find a moment of quiet before her son’s inevitable crying began again. Her eyes widened when she opened the door to find her husband completely drenched, looking like he was inviting death with open arms. He may as well have.

“Aemond..” She rushed to him immediately, hands going to his damp hair and clothes. “Gods did it rain on your ride back home? Let me fetch you some clean clothes and something to dry yourself with.” He reached out to her before she could go too far, and she gasped at how cold his touch was.

It was always warm, and tonight it was not.

“Stay, please.”

“I need you to put on something warm first, Aemond. You’ll catch a chill.”

She was too distracted by his wet state to notice the tears mixed with the raindrops. He said nothing as she walked away and brought back fresh garb for him to change into. She quietly bade that he raise his arms and he obeyed, not having the strength to do anything else. Slowly, each garment fell with a wet thwack to the floor and she took to wiping all the water off of him. 

His grave silence unnerved her immensely, and she knew something was wrong. She would wait for him to say it.

She dressed him in a linen undershirt and breeches and took him to his beloved chair by the fire, in hopes that it would warm him up and encourage him to tell her of what plagued him. He sat in silence for a long while as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her forehead leaning on one of his thighs while her finger drew mindless patterns on the other. 

His hand always reached for her hair when they sat like this, but tonight, that was not the case. She looked up at him with inquiring eyes, and as he caught her vision with his one eye, he did not have the heart to tell her what he had done, but he had to.

“I killed Lucerys Velaryon.” His voice is hoarse and the words are choked out with difficulty, and while the weight of his actions hit him hard, it was harder to watch his sweet wife’s concerned face morph into something else entirely.

“What?”

“He was sent as an envoy. I only meant…” He gulped, and the tears fell freely once more. 

She quickly lifted herself up and straddled him, holding his face in both her hands. Her fingers caught every tear that fell in quick succession. “Tell me, go on.”

“I only meant to scare him. I need you to believe me, I did not mean to kill him.” 

Her husband was a proud man, and it made her stomach churn to see him sound so broken. She feared that she may not like what she was about to hear, but she had promised to be his other half for all his life, and now he needed her. 

He may be fearsome, but he was not a cold-blooded murderer. He did not mean to kill him - but how much weight did his intent hold, now that the boy was dead?

“I believe you. Go on.”

“The dragons…” He let out a hoarse breath and she continued to wipe at his tears with the tips of her thumbs - softness that he right now felt very undeserving of. “Arrax breathed fire at Vhagar and she retaliated, she bit into the dragon’s neck and Luke fell, so did Arrax.” 

She felt light headed with worry. How could she stomach the thought of a young boy falling to his death from the skies? How could she, when she was a mother to a little boy herself?

His uncle, Daemon, was going to come for them, Aemond was sure of that. But he could not bring himself to think of much else as he watched his wife digest all that he had told her, never once ceasing to remind him that she believed him, even if nobody else would. 

When they rose, Aemond’s anger knew no bounds. The possible consequences ran through his mind as he pushed his desk onto the floor with brute force. The sharp edges of her vanity had drawn blood from the back of his hand as he moved in frustration, and she was quick to hold onto him and remind him of her presence. He was not alone, he had her.

“Take me. Take it out on me.” Aemond could not think straight, and she could not bear to see him hurt himself, any more than he already has. It is this very thought that drives her to take his hand and lay it upon her clothed chest.

He took her from behind that night, hands clutching onto her bouncing breasts. Every string that was stretched had snapped with each rough thrust into her, the sounds of skin slapping skin somehow seeming too rough that night. “We’re going to be fine, wife,” he groaned - and she did not know whom he was trying to placate - her, or himself? 

“I will keep you safe, the both of you.”

When he was done with her, she was left looking ragged with dried tear tracks on her face. He wanted to apologize - it seemed as though he hurt everything he touched, and after his now dead Stong nephew, his own sweet wife was his latest victim.

She held him between her breasts that night as they both wept, at a loss for words at what he had done. She did not know how to comfort him or rid him of the guilt or paranoia that his mind now played host to.

What she did know is that her husband needed her, and that she was not going anywhere. So when he suggested sending her and their son away, fearing for her safety, she begged him to let her stand by his side.

“If something were to happen to me, there would be nobody to protect you and our boy.”

“If something were to happen to you, our son and I would much rather follow you than brave many years alone.” 

He reluctantly gave in, thinking that an increased guard and his constant presence around them would be enough to keep them unharmed. 

How wrong he was.

He had walked away only for a moment. 

His wife had wanted to eat some cake during the night - he suspected that she was with child again. Little did he know that it was the last moment of their happy marriage. The sight that he had walked back into was something that would never fail to haunt him.

Dead guards, a whole litany of them. His wife in her bloodied white shift, holding onto their son’s decapitated body. All the light in her eyes had dimmed as he stood frozen in place, his eye widened at the harrowing sight before him. 

She wailed as she clutched the corpse to her chest, with no care for the injuries on her own body, or the blood of their babe that was now mixed in with her own.

“My boy, my precious boy…”

The rest of the royal family soon followed and his mother pulled her away from the babe’s lifeless body. He fell to the floor with no one to hold him, and Aemond could do nothing but watch.  Aegon’s angry calls for his nephew’s head to be brought back along with the killers slipped into one ear and slipped out the other, and he went numb as he realized that the consequences of his actions had caught up to him. 

Him, he could understand. But his sweet wife, his little son? What had they done?

A son for a son.

The rational part of his mind would have argued that Luke’s death probably left Rhaenyra feeling the same tragedy that he was faced with - but he was anything but rational in that moment. His fists clenched as his knuckles met the wall, and Aegon had to physically restrain him from walking out to catch the rats himself.

“She needs you. She needs you. She needs you. Listen to me, Aemond!”

Helaena had collapsed onto the chair entirely, repeating ominous words that he did not register at all. 

“Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese.”

Aegon had gone to join in the hunt for his nephew’s killers, and she kept rocking herself back and forth at the sight of the blood that now painted the walls and floors of her brother’s chambers until she was led away. Aemond stood, all alone in a pool of his son’s and wife’s blood. 

When the Silent Sisters were led into the chamber by his grandfather, Aemond froze. His wife had held their lifeless son to her breast as she cried, but he could not bring himself to look at him, much less touch him.

Hours later, with patches of his own son's blood soaked through his clothes, he had gone to see her. He held her in his arms as she sobbed through the night, trying to push him away with each firm hit to his chest. Aemond shushed her over and over to no avail, holding her closer each time she tried to separate herself from him. Sometime during that night, her eyes had become lifeless; a deep abyss. The sight of it finally drove him to tears too, with his good eye becoming a glistening violet ring floating in a sea of angry red.

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins. They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment when the madness had sunk its claws into his wife. 

It was right then as he held her, comforting her and apologizing like a madman for tainting her life with his presence. 

The moonlight diverged through the stained glass windows that directly faced the room where she now resided. She had been kept in these chambers before their wedding, and she often spoke of how beautiful the lights were when they fell directly onto the corridors, reflecting the colors of the glass that they slid through. He wondered if she still thought the same. He wondered if she even looked.

In the day that followed their son’s death, they had burned their little boy and watched as his body was wheeled around the streets of King’s Landing for their benefit. Aemond had wanted to retch then, but he held his wife tight as the people empathized with the kind princess whose time as a doting mother had been brutally cut short. 

She fared worse - she looked dead in her eyes, and he was sure she was lost on the inside too. He did not know if she even sensed his hold on her as she kept muttering their dead boy’s name in a series of weak whimpers.

Two days later, she had lost their second child. He held her from behind and rocked her gently as the blood flowed from between her thighs for hours, the babe coming out in clumps of bloodied skin, having never drawn breath. Every moment of his wife’s torture plagued Aemond’s existence, and he questioned his abilities as a protector while grieving his son and his unborn child all alone. 

The Gods were cruel to him in their games. They made him watch as his son’s life was taken, and they took bits of his wife’s mind and soul with each passing day. He supposed that this was the hand that kinslayers were dealt.

It was a slow death for Aemond, and it had begun the day his son was killed. Now he had to watch as his once vivacious wife completely lost hold over all her senses, and lived in a world where he could not reach her.

On some days, she would receive him with love, as though his presence in her life had not destroyed her completely. He would be able to revel in her touch once more, if only to simply be able to remind himself that she was still alive - in body, if not soul. He missed her, his wife, his woman, his entire heart. But his actions had killed her from the inside - did he have a right to his yearning anymore? He did not want to know, for he feared that he may not like the answer.

On other days, she would be the complete embodiment of madness. She would fight the maesters and scream at them, begging for them to let her die and throw herself off the window. She would pull at her beautiful hair, blame him continuously and shriek, mourning the loss of their child. 

When she was done, she'd lower her voice and murmur words into the air. Speaking to no one in particular, almost like a ghost, she'd fidget with her dress and say, "His body twitched after they hurt him. My baby boy suffered. Oh, my boy!"

He may not have wielded the knife that removed his head, but his actions caused it. He may as well have killed his son himself. Guilt was not an emotion that Aemond Targaryen knew well as a boy, but it was all he now knew as a grown man.

She would bawl and cry at him to go away. She would scream at him to leave her alone, and blame him for killing her children - and rightfully so. And though it pricked at his heart, he would come back every night. 

He wonders how she is feeling tonight. He wishes she was ignorant and unaware, for he is desperate for her touch, her company. It has been weeks. He is brought back to reality when the Maester’s gown billows behind him in the night wind. 

“Your Grace.” he bows. 

“How is she?”

“Somewhat calmed tonight and not lucid, my prince.” The old man sighs before continuing. “The Princess continues to ask for her little prince. We have given her milk of the poppy, so she may fall asleep soon enough.”

 “Hm.”

He is mildly relieved to hear that she is not herself tonight - for it allows him to relive some of their happier days. 

In his hand is a book - Ten Thousand Ships, the very one that he had gifted her. He dismisses the maester and his stewards follow behind him. Aemond walks into the room with his mind steeled, ready to be brave - for himself and for her.

“Husband! Come, come!” Her cheery voice is not quite hers, and it unnerves Aemond - her words are not from her heart, and it takes everything in him to not fall to his knees and apologize once more for what he has done to her. “The Maester said our boy’s learning to walk! Did you see him? I was promised that you would bring him tonight! Where is he?”

Gone, where we cannot see him, he wants to say. But how could he, without wanting to throw himself at her feet in regret? “He is tired. All that walking has exhausted him.”

“I suppose, yes! They tried to force me to take that vile concoction once more tonight, I managed to push it away and evade them! Look!” His gaze follows her hand and sees the spilled milk of the poppy on the floor. His wife was a calm and steady woman, and now she was behaving like a child and mistreating maesters.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You should not do that, wife. It is not proper.” 

He holds her hand and kisses her knuckles, before leaning his head back to look at her. Her hair has not been combed today, and he gently turns her around to run his fingers through her hair, digits trembling at touching her once more. She could come to at any moment and remember who had caused her such distress, and then she would cry until he walked away - the very real possibility rakes at Aemond, so he remains prepared for her to push him away any time now.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

"I know. I drank it the second time. I'm sorry."

He then turns her back to face him and notices the dark rims around her empty eyes. He sighs and lets out a long, heavy breath. If he was drunk enough and she was unaware, he would fool himself into thinking that they were alright. But they aren’t. 

“It is time to go to bed, wife. Will you come with me?”  I love you, I miss you and I am sorry. Will you come back to me? Please?

He kisses both her eyelids and leads her to the bed in her shift. He gently helps her lay down, following her immediately as he lays next to her. She leans into his hold seamlessly and he tightens his arm around her - it hurts him how despite her madness, her penchant to seek out his touch never changes.

He takes the book from the bedside table, and she squeals. “Will you read to me tonight, husband? I do love it when you read to me. Perhaps a quiet moment between the both of us before the maids bring our son back? You know how he makes a fuss and refuses to give us a moment of quiet!” She laughs, and Aemond holds his tears back once more.

“Of course.” He kisses her temple.

He begins reading and the dry sounds of his throat lull her to sleep in his arms as he rakes his fingers through her hair. When she has completely drifted away from him, he allows himself a moment of thought and kisses her on the lips - watching as she murmurs his name.

He had taken her to wife, and sworn to protect her from any harm that may come her way. In the end, the only one she had to be protected from, was himself. He failed her, and now, he would not rest until he picked up all the pieces and put her back together.

When morning comes, she may still be unconscious of her surroundings and allow him some more time, or she may be lucid and scratch at his face until he leaves her alone. The uncertainty kills him, but he will allow himself to enjoy her tonight. 

It was on this very day that he had kissed her for the first time, in the Sept, between the statues of the Mother and the Father. On this day, four years ago, they were married. 

And on this day, he continues to read to her because she had asked, even when she had fallen asleep - for how could he ever deny her?

BONUS CHAPTER FOR THIS FIC, HERE.

NO TAG LIST. Please follow @randomdragonfics and turn on post notifications for all my fic updates!

MASTERLIST

[elsecrytt]

satoru gojo knows he's not wanted. only needed - a weapon for killing curses and curse users, day in and day out, the lynchpin of jujutsu society.

he's fine with that, most of the time. the truth is, when suguru left, he thought that was the end for him. he was never very good at friendship in the first place, at making people like him.

he has a difficult personality, and he doesn't want to change. people willing to deal with him as he was were few and far between, and they never had that immediate connection like he did with suguru.

even if it left him unbearably lonely. it's just not in his nature to mince words, to hold back, to play nice. if he couldn't be satoru gojo, then what else did he have left?

and it's fine, most of the time.

but some of the time, it's not. it's really, really not. sometimes, it's worth it to try, just the tiniest bit, not to be a complete ass and drive away a pretty face who seems unbothered by his attitude.

that's how he ends up with you - a non-sorcerer. he hasn't told you about sorcery in general and doesn't want you to know.

to him, your shared penthouse is his safe space. he never walks or drives there, only ever teleports so that no one can trace him there. no one, not even at the school, knows that he primarily lives there.

he spends every spare hour (sometimes even just ten minute) he can there. finishing missions early, darting off after lessons, eating there whenever he can.

satoru only sleeps whenever you sleep. he never showers alone, never does his nighttime routine on his own.

that's all precious time he could be spending at your side.

washing your hair, your face, cleaning up alongside you. laughing and splashing and making a little more of a mess if he can get away with it.

here, there are no curses, no former friends turned traitor, no one who needs his help.

you smile as soon as you see him, hear him, run up to hug him if your hands are free.

he's on the lock screen of your phone. once or twice he's caught you just staring at it, delight painted all over your lips.

all you want from him is his company -

and god, is he ever aware, you're the only one alive who does.

most of his coworkers dislike him to various degrees. even his students have mixed feelings about him sometimes.

he does his best, he really does, but he can't bring himself to get attached to someone who might one day leave.

you won't, though (you can't), so he's free to love you all he wants.

he'll freely confess - he's overcompensating. pouring all the missed opportunities to bond, all the awkward moments where his attitude turned other people away, into the dam that is your relationship.

you don't mind his funky schedule (too much), you're a huge homebody who likes having date nights at home.

you smooth off all the rough edges of his personality - the arrogance, the smarmy comments - with a laugh and a taunt, a hand in his hair that he can't help but lean into like the domesticated pet he is.

god, he loves you. he loves you so, so much, unreasonably so - loves coming home to a "satoru! welcome back~", loves bringing home meals from different places and watching you try them with delight (you joke that his mysterious job must be as a delivery man, which he laughs at more than he should), loves coming home to your unnecessary attempts at cooking every now and then, something indescribable curling in his chest.

he loves sitting and talking with you about the latest show you're watching, telling you about his "coworkers" and "juniors" (sometimes he has to stop himself from giggling about it) and how annoying his latest day at work was.

sometimes it's sort of vague and vapid but it's fun when it's with you. sometimes it's deeper stuff, real stuff ("my oldest friend passed away recently" "one of my juniors at work has a complicated family situation") and you seem to always know just what to say. talking to you always makes him feel better.

he worries, sometimes, that he's not as good to you as you are to him. he tries - god, does he try - to show you the extent of his love, if he can't afford the words or time, then in deeds.

you're taken care of for the rest of your life, that was a given. the penthouse is in your name, various trusts set up in the impossible event of his death.

you have full access to a joint account that was actually just yours, set up for you by him - he just didn't feel like trying to convince you to accept the money.

he buys you things, of course. food mostly, to eat together, but also little trinkets and manga and souvenirs of the various places he goes to. little pieces of his life to share with you.

and when he can, he does do dates. every second he gets to spend with you is like gold, and he spends them all fully invested, eyes locked on you and yours, walking on air the entire time just from your presence. ready to talk about anything you had an interest in.

he's just that infatuated. satoru could talk for days to anyone, but you're the only one who'd listen, who'd chatter back just as enthusiastically. he wants you on speed dial every moment he's away.

shopping trips, too, he's always happy to play dress up, to dutifully compliment you even though privately he thinks you look best without any clothes -

and that, too, he does for you. he makes no secret of his affection for your body. spares not even a second getting to his knees, nuzzling against your thigh, cheeks flushed as he looks up at you with pleading eyes won't you feed me, pretty please, i'm starving~

he shows you he loves you. with hands and mouth and body, as a sorcerer should. silent curses falling from his lips as his body joins to yours.

it seems almost cruel of you to let him have this. why can't he live here forever? why can't he always be inside you?

satoru gojo knows he is the absolute last person who should be complaining about this, but why is life so unfair?

why can't he spend every minute of every day by your side? touching you? talking to you?

in his wildest dreams he's not killing curses or sorcerers or changing the world.

he's in bed with you, by your side from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. that's his dream, just you being there, always.

he worries most of all what he'd do if you ever fought.

you're not the type - you "need space to calm down" sometimes, which is usually just you going back to your room. you "want to have a calm discussion" where you sit and listen to him and talk about feelings, and you have this way of making him talk.

you're good at communicating, at making people feel better, and understanding others. sensitive in a way that he's not.

you're never out to hurt him, even when he can tell his time away is grating on you, his constant absences and flightiness rightly off-putting.

you never argue with him, never make demands, and that's how you got together in the first place, the perfect match.

(it scares him, really, being made for battle as he is. where's your fighting spirit? wouldn't you cry and scream and beg if he was going to leave you? wouldn't you go to war for your love? he knows he would.)

but deep down he knows it's there. a massive part of his life is hidden from you - things that are important to him; his mission, his students, his power.

he doesn't know what to do, really.

he wants to keep you safe, unworried. he wants to keep this island of peaceful, mundane happiness in his life.

he wants you to love him, wholly and completely, for all that he is. he wants to hear you tell him he's doing it right. that you're proud of him.

there's so much he wants now, compared to when his life was just teaching students, killing curses, and waiting for the day he'd have to kill his only friend.

satoru isn't sure which one is better. because even though he hopes he can have you how he wants, and the rest of his life too -

he's starting to think it might not be possible.

[asunflowerana]

brownie bonding — Nanami Kento

summary: kento makes most of his quality time with his baby daughter.

warnings: pure fluff, dad!nanami, cooking.

wc: 800.

A warming melody of jazz echoes on the portable radio in the kitchen, filling the bonding moment perfectly. Nanami is just finishishing tying a cook’s apron around his waist, feeling a bit awkward to wear such a flowery print, but it was a request from his baby daughter. There’s no way he would refuse her. 

“You look pretty, daddy!” His sunshine compliments him, sitting in the high chair at the counter with her head covered by her tiny cook’s hat. She isn’t a kid that plays around: if she’s going to cook, she’ll wear the proper clothes for it.

Six years old, acting that way already. Imagine when she’s sixteen.

He can’t help but send her a fondly smile. One of the good things about having a kid is that you will always receive an honest answer from them. His little girl it’s saying he looks pretty, so maybe flower prints actually suit him. 

He moves his focus to the counter, checking the ingredients on display: sugar, butter, wheat flour, powdered chocolate, milk, eggs, chocolate chips. The mixer is set, the oven is heating up, and they have everything they need to start the day’s recipe:

Brownies

You’re on your way home from a business trip today, and they both came up with the idea of ​​surprising you with some brownies. In addition to welcoming you home with a delicious gift, Kento also takes this opportunity to spend more quality time with his daughter. She’s growing up so fast that he’s been feeling guilty for missing some moments of her life because of work. He wants to make sure that as long as he has time, he’ll make the most of it alongside her.

“Alright sweetheart, what’s the first step?” He claps his hands, giving her the task of leading and guiding them through the recipe. She bows to read the children’s cookbook she got for her birthday last year, and points her little index to the first illustrated step.

“We need to mix eggs with sugar.” She says, cautiously taking the mixer’s bowl and placing it in front of them. “Can I put them in, daddy?”

“You can, but you need to be careful with the eggs. Break this way.” He demonstrates to her, tapping the tip of the fork against the eggshell until it breaks a small part. He then opens it halfway, and pours the yolk and whites into the bowl. “Your turn now.”

Eri picks up another egg, and tries to imitate exactly what her father did, but ends up hitting the shell too hard, causing the egg to break right on the table and smear the wood with white and yolk. The dirt definitely doesn’t please her father, but he isn’t going to make a big deal of it. These things happen, even to adults, and he doesn’t want to make his daughter feel guilty about something like that. So when she looks at him with those fearful little eyes waiting for a scold, he starts to chuckle at the situation, making her visibly relax as the moment passes by.

They continue with the recipe, now with Nanami directly helping her put the ingredients into the bowl, and his heart warmed to see his daughter having fun cooking, her mini apron’s all dirty from chocolate. “Now we have to add the flour.” He takes the bag from the counter, and gives it to her. “Think you can do it, sweeheart?”

She nods eagerly, and starts pouring flour into the meter. A small amount of flour escapes, but she manages most part of the process, placing the measured flour into the bowl. “I did it!” She announces as soon as she’s done, a huge one missing tooth grin on her face.

Nanami smiles at his daughter’s delight, caressing the top of her head. “Yes sweetheart, you did it.” He presses the ‘on’ button on the mixer, and it starts to churn all the mixture into the bowl. The two watch together the mixture incorporate and become a smooth brown dough, which soon after was put on a platter to bake in the oven.

Since the brownie would take about forty minutes to bake, Nanami thought it would be a good time to give his sunshine a bath and get her ready before the sweet is done.

But his daughter has other plans in mind.

“Daddy, you have flour on your face.” She points in the direction, making him run his hand over his whole cheek. “No, missed.”

“Where’s it?” he asked, leaning his face close to let her clean it for him.

She puts one of her flour-covered hands to his nose, laughing when she sees the art she’s made on her father’s skin. “There.”

His first reaction is deadpan, not believing he fell for a six-year-old child’s trick. But he’s definitely not a quitter: as soon as she gets occupied laughing at his face, he places his hands on her sides and holds her, giving her a mischievous smile. “So this is how you want to play, huh? Very well, young lady… You shall be defeated.” He starts tickling her body, making her squirm and laugh even more. He releases her eventually, and the two soon start a big flour fight around the room, running and throwing flour everywhere.

Not only they’ll give you a brownie tray, but also a pretty messy kitchen to deal with afterwards. But you can’t deny that it’s worth the price. 

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Freshman, ft. tripleS Yoon Seoyeon

tags: first time, male reader

length: 5k+ words

-------------

Today is August 12th, the first day of Freshers’ Week at your university. Professor Son, the head of Computer Science department, had asked you personally to be one of the seniors to lead a group of freshmen throughout the Week and continue to offer help and advice whenever they may need it, even after the orientation period has finished. She told you that she was very impressed that you were able to maintain a 3.7 GPA in the 2 years you’ve been studying while being active as a basketball player for the university’s team at the same time. You were hesitant to take her up on the request at first because you had wanted to take this holiday period to relax and gather yourself after such a stressful semester. However, you recalled the way your senior had helped you when you were a freshman yourself; how he motivated and set an example to you and your groupmates, so you put your holiday plans to the side, said yes, and become a group leader.

Your watch shows 5:30 am, you just finished the morning briefing with the other group leaders and the rest of the Freshers’ Week committee. In less than an hour, the freshmen will start gathering in the football field and you will start your duties as a group leader for these new faces. You are very nervous as you are not very sociable with new people, but you see this as an opportunity to help you be more comfortable being in the spotlight and present in public—the promised payment is too good to pass up as well.

You and the rest of the group leaders stand in a row while holding a sign with the group name and number written on it. You see the freshmen start lining up in front of their respective leaders, including yourself. Some look like they just woke up, others look excited to start their new life as a university student, as you were back then. Initially, no male or female freshman catches your attention with their looks, until the last freshman joins your group’s line. You quickly peek at the attendance list on your clipboard and find the name of this last person: Yoon Seoyeon, from Chungnam Girls’ High School in Daejeon— “that’s quite the distance”, you think. As you look up from the attendance list, you see her walking up to you. Just before she gets to you, you managed to pick up some details from her looks: big eyes, small lips, fluffy cheeks—she’s also wearing a bow tie in your favorite color, light blue.

Lock it in, she’s holding out her hand to shake yours. “Good morning, sunbaenim. My name is Yoon Seoyeon”, she says. You find yourself staring deep into her eyes for a second before replying and shaking her hand; you have never felt anything like this before—is this what they call love at first sight?

After that short introduction, you tried your best to shake off other thoughts that could distract you from doing your job on this opening day. Little did you know, today was going to be a start of something huge for you.

The day went by very quickly for you, as you and your group followed all the introductory programs prepared by the committee. You tried your best to be present for your group throughout the day, sharing your university experiences, offering them tips, and showing them your favorite spots for studying. Most of them seemed engaged and interested in what you’re saying, which you’re thankful for, because you found out that being in the center of attention like this is not easy for you. In the last 15 minutes before things are wrapped for them today, you express your gratitude for them and ask them to be more comfortable with you and not to call you “sunbaenim” ever again, resorting to “oppa” or “hyung”.

After every freshman left, everyone else started following suit and left to go to wherever they needed to be; their dorm rooms, their favorite coffee shops, whatever the case may be for them. You opted to walk back to your apartment, picking up food for dinner on the way, “pasta for dinner feels like a good idea”, you think to yourself.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you heard a buzz from your phone. The documentation team sent a Google Drive link full of pictures they had taken throughout the day, neatly put into folders for each group. You set your food on your desk and start scrolling through your group’s folder. After looking more closely, you notice that Seoyeon was always by your side in every picture, paying very close attention to what you were saying. So, you promise yourself you will try talking to her and find out more about her tomorrow. You feel your heart beating fast at the thought of getting close to her, and you think to yourself, “I don’t think I can sleep tonight”—that’s cap, though; you fell asleep at around 10pm, as usual.

A few hours later, the sound of your alarm wakes you up from your sleep. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but you need to get ready anyway so that you’re not late for the briefing.

You open your wardrobe after showering and decide to dress nicer today because you want to show Seoyeon a more proper style of yours, opting for a red shirt, and a matching combination of dark gray trousers and blazer. You hope no one asks you as to why you’re dressing as if you were going to a meeting with the board of directors. “I hope Seoyeon likes guys who dress well”, you mutter while looking at the mirror one last time before leaving.

At around 4:40 am, you arrive at campus and go to the same spot as yesterday to attend the briefing. The committee explains that we’re having more talks with the freshmen today to get close to them and see if they have concerns or other things they might want to talk about with their group leaders or fellow freshmen. You get excited about the prospect of getting closer with your group, specifically with Seoyeon. You can’t wait until you can talk to her, promising to yourself that you’ll show enthusiasm to whatever subject she might bring up.

Just like yesterday, you and the other group leaders go to the football field and wait until everyone arrives. Unlike yesterday, though, Seoyeon arrives first today. Your heart beats fast when you see her walking up to you with a smile on her face, “how cute”, you hear a group leader next to you say. You shoot him a quick glare which he misses, you don’t want other people to fall for her like you’re about to.

You take a good look at what she’s wearing today; light blue shirt and brown pants, “these colors suit her very well”, you say to yourself. “Good morning, oppa. How are we feeling today?”, she asks. “We? When did it become ‘we’?”, you think, getting ahead of yourself. “I’m feeling great, Seoyeon. I’m excited because I heard that we’re going to talk a lot and know each other better today”. You see Seoyeon blush a little and look away for a second before looking at you again. “Sure, oppa. I’ll tell you everything about myself and I hope you will too”, she says, and now it’s your turn to blush. You take a few seconds to muster up the courage to compliment her. “You’re looking great, Seoyeon, these colors look great on you”, you say to her, hoping that she won’t take it any other way than a compliment. “Thank you, oppa. I noticed that you were holding a blue clipboard yesterday and caught you glancing at my bow tie a few times yesterday, so I figured that you like blue, hence the shirt”. Your first thought is to apologize for staring but at the same time, you’re holding in a squeal of excitement because she has noticed your fondness of blue.

Soon, everyone starts gathering up at the football field; you see that some people from your group have gotten more comfortable with each other, some even have made friends with people from other groups. Seoyeon finds herself among some peers and seems to be comfortable with them, and you’re glad that you get to see how she’s able to present herself so gracefully and elegantly when surrounded by people. Deep down, you hope that one day you can wake up to her next to you with the same smile she has on her face right now. “We’ll see how today turns out”, you think.

You end up spending the whole day talking with your group about all kinds of things related to university life in general and being a student-athlete studying Computer Science. Seoyeon asked you a handful of questions, to which you replied with sincerity and enthusiasm. She was careful enough to not ask about personal details, keeping the curiosity to herself. You wanted to make sure that no doubt lingers in her mind in terms of studying Computer Science in this highly competitive environment. Others also asked for more specific tips for studying after being told yesterday that you’re one of the top students in your department and in the entire university as a student-athlete—you were never in it for the fame, but being recognized positively every now and then for what you’re doing feels good and fulfilling.

The day went by quickly for you, just like yesterday did. Day 2 made you realize that you really can’t stop talking once you start and you hope that you weren’t just spewing nonsense to everybody.

While the second day started similarly to the first, it will end differently. You see Seoyeon sitting at the bus stop, staying behind even after every freshman left and the evaluation finished. Feeling concerned, you walk up to her to see if there’s anything you can help her with. Hearing your footsteps, Seoyeon turns her head to see you, “Oh hi, oppa. I thought you had left already, why are you still here?”, she asks you. “Hi to you as well, sweet—I mean, Seoyeon. Well, you just stole my line, I was supposed to ask you why you’re still here. Is there anything I can help you with?”. You saw her eyes dilate a bit when you slipped, you curse yourself for nearly losing control of what you’re saying. “I-I wanted to wait for you so we can talk s-some more—if you don’t mind, that is”, looking down as she says the last bit. “Sure, let’s talk some more. Let’s go to that burger place, we can talk over some burgers and fries”, you tell her as you point to the burger spot across the street.

Seoyeon stands up from her seat and quietly holds your arm, and the both of you start walking across the street to get to the burger shop. When you two enter the establishment, you see Jeno, your favorite guy, working at the cashier. “Yo, what’s up, man? What are we in the mood for tonight?”, he says, friendly as ever, while glancing quickly at the girl next to you. “Jeno, it’s always nice seeing you here, man. Can I have a Double OG with no tomato and some nacho fries?”. You almost forgot that you weren’t alone, so you look to your side and ask the girl shyly holding your arm, “It’s on me tonight, Seoyeon. What would you like to have?”. She shyly replies, “u-uh, I don’t know, oppa. I’ve never been here before, but I would love to have a burger and some fries as well”, of course the freshman from far away is clueless, you dumbass. “Oh, right”, you bring a palm to your forehead, “well, can I have a Black Montana and some cheesy fries?”, you tell Jeno your extra order—Black Montana used to be your favorite thanks to the sauce they use for it, only changing because you wanted to try other things. “Of course, man, anything for my favorite customer”, Jeno says as he hands you two empty cups for the drink. You fill your cup with some cold water while Seoyeon opts for diet coke. After filling the cups, you look around for a table, finding one in the corner next to the windows—how romantic.

You pull a seat for her before sitting down yourself, replicating the gesture you’ve seen your dad do for your mom throughout your life. Seoyeon mutters a little thank you that sends a jolt to your heart, making it beat like you just ran a few laps around a basketball court. You sit on the other side after setting your backpack down on the floor. “So, what did you want to talk about?”, you ask to start the conversation. Seoyeon looks at you but looks down at the table soon after, so you just nod in understanding. You don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so you wait until the food comes before pushing again.

Luckily for you, the food comes a few minutes later. Two delicious looking burgers, some crunchy fries, and a couple of bottles of condiment. You see a beam of excitement on Seoyeon’s face as she looks at the tray the waiter has just set on your table. She immediately grabs some fries and shoves it in her mouth, making her cheeks round. Soon after, she starts unwrapping her burger and takes a bite, squealing cutely at the taste. You choose to not start eating just yet, paying close attention to how excited she is when it comes to food and feeling the warmth that’s radiating from her. After taking another bite of her burger, she looks at you and notices that you haven’t touched your food yet. “O-oppa, why aren’t you eating?”, she asks with a full mouth. “Oh, I was just admiring your excitement for food. You like it?”. “This is amazing, oppa. Thank you very much, I love y—uh, this burger”, she blushes and looks away from you while you choose to act like you didn’t catch the slip and start unwrapping your burger.

Not long after that exchange, you both finish your meals, feeling full and satisfied with it. You hope that this is good timing and ask her again, “what did you want to talk about, Seoyeon?”. Knowing that she has nowhere to hide now, she gathers her mind and says four words that shake your world, “I like you, oppa”. You drop your jaw in shock, unable to say anything back to her for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Seoyeon, but can you say that again?”, you hope that she won’t deflect and repeats it. “I said I like you, oppa. D-do you f-feel the same, by any chance?”, she repeats, maintaining eye contact with you despite the crimson hue on her cheeks. You remain stunned for the next few seconds, until you see tears start forming in her eyes. “Seo-Seoyeon, ye-yes, I also like y-you”, you reply while breathing heavily, forgetting how to breath. Satisfied with your answer, Seoyeon immediately jumps to the empty seat next to you to hug you, tucking her head under your chin. You close your eyes and bask in the moment; you feel like a massive weight has finally been lifted off your chest. Soon, though, you start hearing little sobs coming from her. You pulled her out of the hug to look at her and soothe her, “hey, hey, sweetie, are you okay? Don’t cry, please. I’m here for you”. “I’m just so relieved, oppa. I was so scared that you would push me away—you would never push me away, right?”, she says, voice shaking from the emotions. Your heart sinks to the bottom of the Mariana Trench; there is absolutely no way on this green earth that you would push her away like that, and the fact that she’s letting her emotions show assures you that she’s being honest and sincere. Peck her on the forehead to soothe her, “it’s okay, sweetie, there’s nothing to fear. I’m here for you, always”.

After about a minute, she finally stops sobbing and her breathing returns to normal. She’s dropping another bomb, though. “Can we go to your place, oppa?”, she says softly as she pulls away from the hug. You quietly thank your parents for planting in you the habit of maintaining cleanliness, which means that your apartment is presentable for guests all the time. “We can, sweetie, but are you sure?”, you ask her with the last few drops of self-control, your patience running thin. “Please, oppa. There’s nothing I’m surer of right now”.

You ask her to let go so that you two can leave this place. She wraps an arm on yours, more confidently this time, as you walk to the cashier. “So how was it, guys? Delicious as always, right?”, Jeno asks the two of you. “Amazing, Jeno, always. We’re going, thank you so much”, you give him a fist bump before leaving the place. He gives you two thumbs up as you’re opening the door to leave.

Soon, you two find yourselves on the way to your apartment. “Sweetie, c-can I carry you? I-I’ve always wanted to try it”, you ask, surprising Seoyeon who did not see it coming at all. “Sure, oppa, just don’t drop me please”, with her consent, you ask her to get in front of you and carry her bridal style for the rest of the way, carrying this 50-something kilograms bundle of sweetness with ease. You feel her start to loosen up and lean her head on you as you’re carrying her, transferring the warmth from her body to yours. You wonder how this might look like to people who see you, but it’s the least of your concern right now; you’re at the peak of your life and it’s only getting better from this point onwards.

“We’re here, sweetie”, you say to her as you reach the front door of your apartment, not putting her down as you open the door and enter. You softly put her down on the couch bed, extending it out so she can lie down comfortably. Peck her on the forehead again to remind yourself that it is really happening. “Would you want some water, darling?”, she nods to the question, and you go get some cups of water for the both of you. You then sit next to her lying body and put her legs on your lap and softly massage them. “Oppa”, she softly calls out, “what made you like me?”. Her question is a simple one, but leaves you speechless nonetheless. “I don’t know, sweetie. I just felt drawn to you”, you start, “you’re just so charming, and graceful, and elegant, and— “, your brain realizes that these words sound absolutely ridiculous coming from you, so it tells your cheeks to blush so that you stop. Seoyeon giggles softly seeing you stop so suddenly, “anything else, oppa?”, she challenges. You look at her with a serious face, which made her bite her lip in nervousness, and hover over her. You stay there for a bit and slowly go down for a kiss, nice and slow, to show her your genuine love. Pull away from the kiss and tell her softly, “I love you, Yoon Seoyeon, with my entire being. Would you be mine, my only one?”. “Yes, oppa. I’m yours and you’re mine”, she replies, her soft smile prominent on her face.

You spend a bit more time cuddling with her on the couch bed, saying sweet things to her. However, you’re curious about something, “so what did you want do that you asked me to bring you here?”. Seoyeon stayed silent for a few seconds before turning to face you, “I want you to be my first, oppa”, she says while looking deep into your eyes—that’s one more bomb she dropped on you; if you weren’t already shattered from the previous ones, this one will surely end you. “That would be a huge honor for me, baby, but are you sure?”, you say, still holding yourself back even though blood has rushed to your cock, making you as hard as a rock. “Take me, oppa, make me truly yours”, she replies while softly rubbing your cheek with her hand.

Still in control of yourself, you get up from the couch and carry her bridal style again to your bedroom, the lights turning on automatically as you walk in. You put her down on the bed and move a stray hair covering her face, “you’re so beautiful, baby”, you mutter softly. Your self-control running thin, you ask her one more time if she’s sure about this, to which she replied by lolling in your bed, “take care of me, oppa, please”. You stand up by the footboard and start taking off your clothes in front of her, being confident with your physique as an active basketball player. Seoyeon keeps her eyes on you, biting her lips occasionally as you take off each layer, until you’re down to your boxers, your hard cock making a significant tent.

You see nervousness creeping up on her, “is it going to hurt, oppa?”. You climb nto the bed again and pet her head softly, “it will be uncomfortable at first, baby, but we’ll get through it together”, you assure her. Your assurance helps Seoyeon be less nervous, as she gives you a nod and pulls your hands to her top button, indirectly asking you to undress her. You take your time unbuttoning her shirt, paying attention to her gesture and expression, down until the last button. You open the curtain that is her unbuttoned shirt and see her mounds covered with a simple white bra, “I know they’re not as big—”, you shut her up with a kiss, “please, baby, you’re perfect as you are”, you tell her with a comforting smile on your face. You then start kissing down her entire body; from her neck down to her tummy, earning soft moans from her. Give her a calm smile as you unbutton and unzip her pants, her nervousness returning to her face. “I know I sound like a broken record, baby, but are you sure?”, you ask, even though your patience now is as thin as paper. She gives you a nod and a warm smile, so you pull her up on her feet and take her clothes off, leaving her only in her white underwear.

Set her down on the bed again before opening a drawer of the bedside table to get a condom. Seeing you unwrap one and putting it on, she grabs your arm and tells you once again, very softly, “please be gentle, oppa”. “I will, sweetie, I promise”, you reply before kissing her forehead. You get in the bed again and open her legs slowly, noticing the damp spot on her panties as soon as her legs are open wide enough for you to get in between. You look at her once more before sliding her panties off, revealing her shaved and untouched pussy. “Alright, are you ready, sweetie? I love you, okay? Don’t ever doubt that, not even for a second. Say ‘pochacco’ if you want to stop, baby”. “Yes, oppa, I’m ready. I love you with all my life”, she replies.

She gasps as soon as feels your tip on her entrance, “be gentle, please”, she begs you. You give her a nod and start pushing in, making her moan just a bit too loudly. You feel yourself getting past her barrier, turning her into a full-blown woman—your woman. She muffles a moan with her palm as a tear runs down her face. You lean forward and hug her, then whisper softly, “are you okay, sweetie? I love you”. “I-it hurts, oppa, you feel s-so big, plea-please be gentle”, she says as another tear runs down her cheek. “I know, baby, but please hold on for a second, okay? You also don’t have to cover your mouth. It’s okay to let go, you’re safe with me”, you assure her with a peck on the lips and wipe her tear with a thumb.

Straighten your back once more and start moving rhythmically in and out of her pussy, earning soft moans and some high-pitched ones from Seoyeon. “You’re so tight, baby. Such a good girl for me”, you tell her with heavy voice between thrusts. “Ye-yes, I’m your good girl, oppa”, she replies with shaky voice. She’s just so sweet, isn’t she? You promise yourself that you’re going to spend the rest of your life protecting every little bit of the woman underneath you, keeping her by your side until the end of time. A few more deep thrusts and she delivers a breaking news exclusively for you, “I-I feel like something is about to burst, oppa”—her first orgasm is coming soon, and you’re the cause. “Yes, baby. Let go, let it all go for me, my good girl”, you say as you speed up your rhythm. “OPPA I’M—”, she screams out loud as her juice gushes out of her small frame, forcing you to pull out. You lean forward and pet her head softly, waiting for her to come down from her high naturally. “You’re such a good girl, love. Let’s calm down before continuing, okay?”, you tell her calmly, a gentle smile drawn on your face. “What was that, oppa? What just happened?”, she asks, still panting from the foreign sensation. “That was your first orgasm, love”, “an orgasm, oppa? Does that mean I did well?”, “yes, you did, my love, you did very well. I’ll get you some water, okay?”, you two share a small exchange as she relaxes from her first ever orgasm.

After giving her some water and waiting for her to relax even more, you ask her if she’s ready to go again, chasing for your own orgasm this time. “I’m taking your bras off and then I’m going back in, sweetie”, you tell her. You start thrusting into her again at decent speed, making her freed breasts bounce with each thrust. “Yes, oppa, it doesn’t hurt as much now. Give it to me, give me your all, oppa”. Her encouragement fuels your arousal as you deliver deep, solid thrusts into her, chasing for another orgasm for her and your first tonight. She grabs your right hand and brings it to her breast, hoping that you would do something about it. You palm her breast and squeeze it softly every odd second, getting ever closer to your orgasm, “I’m getting close, baby, very close”, “yes, yes, oppa, I think I’m getting close too”, she says while moaning softly. A dozen thrusts and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening—you’re close to the finish line. “Seoyeon, baby, I’m cumming”, you notify her. “Me-me too, oppa, let’s cum together”, and the both of you do just that; you feel her walls tighten around your cock as you’re cumming, milking every drop of cum out of you. Feeling weak, you just fall forward on top of her and hug her tightly in your arms. Whisper in her ear, “baby, I love you so much. I really do”. “I love you too, oppa. My oppa”.

After gathering your strength for a bit, you pull out and take off the condom, tying it into a knot then showing it to her, “this is all you, baby, you made me cum this much”, you tell her. You see her blushing before covering her face with her hands. “I’m gonna run you a shower, baby, wait a sec, yeah?”. You leave her lying down in bed while you head to the bathroom to start a shower for the two of you. You then go back to the bedroom and carry her to the bedroom to start the aftercare—"this was her first time, she deserves all the sweetness I can show her”, you think to yourself. “Alright, baby, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Stand under the shower and face that wall for me, please”, you tell her after making sure she can stand up on her own, to which she just nods and does as you ask. You start by letting water run all over her then turning it off so you can rub her back all the way down to her legs with some soap, going up and down multiple times to make sure you don’t miss a spot. Once that’s done, you turn off the shower and stand back up while gesturing to her to turn around to face you. She looks up at you with her big eyes and a wide smile on her face, “oppa, I love you”, she says, getting on her tippy toes to kiss you. You lean down and kiss her deeply, “I love you more, baby. Let’s finish this, okay?”.

After getting out of the shower all cleaned up, you put her back in bed and lie down next to her to start the second part of the aftercare. You’re peppering her with pecks all over her face, saying “I love you” after each peck. You’re still curious about something, though, so you ask her, “darling, what made you fall for me so suddenly?”. Surprised with your question, she blushes and stays quiet before answering, “I-I think that you’re a kind and sweet and attentive person a-and heard that you’re a top student while being a student-athlete. I fe-felt attracted to you out of nowhere, oppa. I even asked my mom if this is what they call love at first sight, and sh-she said that it could very well be, so I decided to take the chance”—"what a sweet girl, that was a lot of good adjectives, too”, your heart tells you while listening to her—“and then you showed me your how kind and sweet you really are, and I couldn’t help but to fall even deeper for you”, she covers her face again after finishing her piece, visibly shy about confessing to you. Needless to say, you’re very satisfied with her answer, so you reward her with a passionate kiss, “I love you so much, Yoon Seoyeon, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record every time I say it. Let’s put on some clothes before going to sleep, okay?”. You get some T-shirts and shorts for the two of you, putting them on for her. You also make sure that her clothes are hung neatly in the wardrobe so that they’re not creased since she’s probably wearing that again tomorrow.

You two get ready to end this eventful day by cuddling, getting ready to get some sleep. So, for the last time tonight, “I love you, sweetie. I can’t wait to spend more time with you in the future”, “I love you more, oppa. Thank you for everything”. With her last statement, the both of you drift off to sleep. You still can’t believe how lucky you are to have her not only fall for you but also call her yours.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

dirt

sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...

title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.

I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl

cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).

He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.

"The fuck, girl?"

You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"

You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.

"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."

You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.

"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.

Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.

Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.

"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."

Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.

You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.

"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.

Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.

And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.

He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.

It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.

His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.

"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.

Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.

When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.

Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.

"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."

You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.

He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.

"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.

"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."

You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.

"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"

He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.

"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.

You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"

You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.

"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.

A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.

"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.

Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.

And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.

With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.

Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.

"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.

And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.

Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.

Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.

"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.

Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.

Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.

"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.

He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.

"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."

"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.

It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.

The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.

The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.

"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.

Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.

Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.

You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.

Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.

Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.

Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.

You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.

But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.

In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.

But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.

I don't know what to say for myself

[tarotofhope]

PAC: 「What's your working style?」

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

Pile 1

Cards: The Devil, The Star, Death, The Empress Reversed, Wheel of Fortune and The Magician.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. You are married to your work and you're a hard worker. You're very goal oriented and ambitious. Whatever you're working towards is not only work for you but much greater than that. Your work is your passion, your religion, your God. You even have good leadership qualities. You know how to give and earn respect. Even when you guys retire, you would still do some or the other thing as work. You just can't sit idle. You value money and you use your money wisely. I can also see one more thing here, you guys have this drive for becoming something in this world, doing something effective, having an impact, leaving a legacy. You guys are like a magnet for power and money just because you have a strong drive for work and you strive hard to achieve your goals. For a few of you, this could be the case that you had to take responsibilities at an early age because one of your parent passed away or you were stripped off of your financial support by your parents/guardian. You have good businessmanship and a lot of creative abilities. You want to become independent in your life and stand on your own two feet.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 2

Cards: Queen of Swords, The Hermit, The Tower, The Fool, Ace of Pentacles and 9 of Pentacles.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You do your own thing and you don't like to follow any set rules or regulations. You might appear cold and tough and you somehow also know how to get other people to work for you if you want to. You have a lot of experience in life and you could be a street smart too. There could be a phase in your life(this could be your past, present or future because many people are reading this) where you had a huge financial loss and then you had to start from scratch and earn for your living and then become financially stable and satisfied. Yes, financial stability and satisfaction with material possessions is there but it will come after a lot of struggle. Whatever I said in the starting 2-3 sentences about your nature of work could be something which came after your struggle. You have learnt a lot from your struggles and that has shaped you the way you are. You are someone who would take the leap of faith, manifest a tower moment(sudden and drastic ups and downs) so that change can enter your life. You are not afraid of changes, you invite them..😉

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 3

Cards: The Hierophant, Temperance, 5 of Swords, 7 of Wands, King of Cups and Knight of Wands.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. You have a great desire to follow your passion or maybe you wish you had more talents and choices in your life because you look stuck in a traditional work environment. You think you'd have your own working style if you had the opportunity to work on your own but somehow you're trapped in a normal office type job or traditional work style where there is less to no scope for creativity and personal growth and you have to follow certain rules and fulfil certain criterias. Maybe you feel stuck in a boring 9 to 5 job. This is also because of necessity, you need to pay bills and this and that, so what else you could have done? But there is this strong desire to do your dream job which is not like your normal office job. Either you are doing something as a side hustle but you earn very little from it and you want to make big in it but you also have a main job which gives you good enough money to pay your bills but you're not happy with it. There's this constant struggle to strike a balance. You don't get much time with your family due to this job and also very less holidays/vacations. There's a lot of judgement and competition at your workplace, ranks, scores and a hierarchical management which you're tired of. You don't want any of this. You want to reach at a level where you're emotionally satisfied in your work, where there is less stress and pressure.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 4

Cards: The High Priestess, The Sun, Page of Swords, The Magician, Empress and Knight of Cups.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Looks like you're doing what your heart desires and something which pile 3 dreams of. You're very fortunate and blessed, pile 4. Your job has that proper balance of work and relaxation, work and creativity. I'm not saying that your job is easy or you don't work hard or work enough, it's just that your work is so full of creativity and enjoyment that you'd happily put more hard work in it. You'd happily and willingly struggle in it. You might feel very independent and free because of your work. You might also be very protective of your job, I mean to say that people get jealous of your job easily, whether or not you earn much from it, whether or not you're successful in it, I can see that people just couldn't digest your enjoyment and excitement which is associated with your work because they don't get to do the same. So, you could be wearing some evil eye protection talisman or bracelet/ring. The best part of your job is that you don't have to follow strict rules and regulations, you're mostly free to do your own thing. You could be into creative fields of work and you're doing this because people are known by the kind of job they're into and you want to attract like-minded people or you want to help other people who are less fortunate in regards to creative work.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Pile 5

Cards: 9 of Swords, 9 of Pentacles, King of Wands, King of Pentacles, King of Cups and 6 of Pentacles.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. You could be into service related jobs mostly which involves doing a lot of charity and helping the needy. You don't want to see people struggling like you did in your past. Your job gets a lot of criticism by people because maybe you get to earn very little from it or because people don't understand your job, but you're happy and people don't see this. For some of you, this work could make you successful in future but it's a very slow and steady process so again people don't see any value in your work. You might be doing something unconventional and different, so you might not be supported at home too, so you're very protective of this job. Whatever you're doing is either within a community or a one man show, nothing in between. You serve a variety of people/customers involving foreigners too. You're very satisfied and content with this job and nobody can change your mind with their worldly philosophies. There is 9 of pentacles after the 9 of swords which can indicate that you got this job after a lot of struggle and bad experiences, this could be something very unattainable to you earlier, but you fought for it, worked hard for it and now you're not going to leave it. Maybe you're constantly trying to prove your worth and the value of your work, pile 5. You don't have to. The right people will admire you for your work and will also understand and respect your work choice.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5. Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

——————————— ♡ ♡ ♡ ———————————

[gyusrose]

➵ 5-star michelin -> p.js

⚠︎ smut (mdni) , sprinkle of angst

✎ teacher!jay x student, slight age gap (25 & 23), jay is kinda mean, dom!jay + sub!reader, jealous!jay, praising, dirty talk

summary: achieving your dream of becoming a chef is not easy, even worse when your teacher’s always up your ass.

{btw! i don’t cook like at all so bear with me 🙏}

(non!idol jay x fem.reader)

~ late christmas + new year’s gift *ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wc: 4.2k

you love the kitchen, you pretty much live there day and night. it’s no surprise to anyone that your dream job is eventually becoming a real chef. that’s why you’ve spent almost your whole life perfecting the one skill you’re good at. most of the recipes you use come from your mom. before she passed she left a whole book of recipes in it and what a hell of a good time you had with it.

it helped you cope, that’s what drove it. you feel sad? make something yummy. you feel mad? bake something nice. you feel happy? cool something delicious. your problems seemed to fade away while your cooking.

over the last year, you’ve started attending culinary school. obviously, you’re not perfect and you still need some work on your dishes but you’re not doing too bad to say the least. now though, it’s a new chapter opening for you.

you’ve been wanting to get out of your hometown for a while and move to the city as there were more opportunities down here and to your luck, you got accepted into a (very prestigious) culinary school nearby your apartment, a win-win situation.

like anyone, you were scared, scared to make new friends, scared to meet new people, scared to start from zero, a new place, a new routine. but it’s all for the better.

you sighed as you tied your apron around your waist, almost heading out the door to your first day of school. boxes were still unpacked all around your floor, it was a total mess, you literally slept on the floor last night. it was definitely not the best case scenario for a great morning but eh.

you finally caught your breath trying to calm down grabbing your tote bag and leaving your messy apartment.

the school was no more than five minutes away walking. at least you’re gonna be on time.

your entered the glass doors of the huge white building. the receptionist noticed you, you quickly showed her your ID, which they gave you during your orientation last week. she gave you a nod and you headed into the elevator, pressing the number 13.

your hands were shaking and sweaty. coming into a new school in the middle of the year has got to be the worst scenario for an introvert like you. you finally reached the room where the class will be taking place ( i genuinely don’t know what culinary school is like pls) as soon as you stepped in, all eyes were on you. including the head chef’s.

“you must be the new student right? happy first day you’re late.” one of them spoke, your cheeks couldn’t have become any redder than what they already were. you hated all the attention on you.

late? didn’t class start at 7:30? you thought.

“class started fifteen minutes ago, take a seat and catch up.” almost like he could read your mind he responded.

you muttered a low ‘sorry’ before heading onto an empty seat trying to take as much attention away from you. of course his happens to you.

you gathered all the ingredients you were told to get and set them on the table in front of you. mimicking what the other students were doing. as you weee doing that the chef came up to your side, an evident scowl noticed on his face.

it was until then you realized how handsome he was, he looked very young as well, not someone that you would expect to be a head chef. his jawline was sharper than the knife on your hand. you shook those thoughts away quickly though, he’s your teacher! what are you thinking?

“i’m just letting you know, whatever you did today can’t happen anymore, attendance is very important everyday, this is a very advanced class so you might not want to be missing any of it, got it?” even though he whispered, it felt like he was yelling at you. it was very aggressive and harsh making you flinch.

you quickly nodded, now scared of him even more. suddenly you want to change classes with another chef. finally leaving you let out a big sigh which you were holding in ever since he came over, and resumed cutting your vegetables and stir frying them.

“you need more seasoning on that, it’s too bland!” the chef, which you now you know as ‘Chef Park’ said as he tasted your chicken. you were almost sweating, from the way he speaks and acts, you felt nothing but intimidated by his presence, even more when he’s tasting your first dish for him. throughout the whole lesson today, he seemed to be only picking at you, he didn’t taste any of the other student’s food, only yours. you found it kind of irritating but tried not to think much about it.

“i’ll definitely note that chef.” you smiled at him bowing.

“ i’m expecting a lot from you, ______” he said before heading back to his space.

you were confused. why you? you’re probably the least talented person in this room right now so why you? you had so many questions but decided that maybe you just needed a good nights rest and starting packing up your stuff on your bag.

jay sighed at the empty room in front of him. it was currently 1 am, and he couldn’t find the urge to go home. he was just thinking, thinking about you.

he was the one that read your application into the school, he read your recommendation letters from your past teachers. you were put into his advanced class for a reason.

what he didn’t expect was the glory of a woman that was going to get in that door. it was as if the universe slapped his type right in front of him. that’s what he saw. how could someone look so beautiful in such a simple uniform? he also wonders that.

he can’t let down his demeanor though. yes he finds you attractive, but he can’t soften up just for you, that’s unfair to the rest of the students that have to put up with him. plus he hasn’t forgotten that he’s the teacher and you’re a student, it’s unethical for him to even be thinking of you in that way.

it’s been approximately a month since you’ve started going to this new school and to be honest, it was eating you up. chef park kept nit-picking everything you did, which honestly is what’s. teacher should do but not to that extent. you saw the way he was always looking your way when you were cooking. how he would yell at you across the room when you did something wrong ( even if other people were also doing it) it’s driving you insane to the point that you’re about to actually request for a change of teacher.

you were struggling to cook the steak to chef park’s desired temperature when you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned your head around to see a boy. if you’re not mistaken his name is jake.

“i see you’re kind of struggling with that, there’s a trick i do that always manages to cook the steak to chef’s park liking. may i?” he asked if he could touch the knobs of your stove. you nodded and he turned the heat to the maximum for a few seconds, turning the steak over on both sides while bathing it in butter , then he turned it to low heat, repeating the same action.

jay obviously noticed this and did not appreciate it. he should be happy seeing another student sharing tips with you but that wasn’t the case this time. without thinking he walked over the two of your laughing figures.

“sim! it’s very inappropriate of you to be talking with your little friend when you should be cooking..”

“oh sorry chef park. i was just giving her a hand. i thought you wouldn’t mind.”

you looked at chef park, noticing his glaring eyes on jake. is it that bad for a student to help another student out?

“well i do! back to your place.” he said not sparing you a glance while jake decided to not respond back and just gave you an apologetic smile before heading off.

“alright everyone, that would be it for today, but don’t forget that by the end of the semester you’re gonna have to cook something of your own, impress me okay? “

as students left you decided to have a word with the chef, wanting to know if he just truly just didn’t like you or if he had a problem with you being here, so you could change chefs.

there was another girl talking to him before you. he acted so different with her, so respectful, kind and smiley. his face sours up every time he’s talking with you, so you barely see him smile and you almost melted at it.

“is there a problem miss ______?”

you jumped out of your other world and looked at him. suddenly feeling shy. you felt your confidence slip away as he was now looking straight at you, waiting for you to speak.

“ well-uh i’ve been noticing how harsh you’re on me compared to the other students, did i do something to cause that?”

jay was taken aback from your straightforwardness, but he responded either way.

“ you just need more toughness out on you _____, do you want to be mediocre?” he was lying through his teeth. jay knew you were if anything, the best of the class, he couldn’t just say that out loud.

you on the other hand, were crushed. was mediocre all he saw in you? have you been lied to by your other teachers?

“ is the yelling necessary though ? there’s way to effectively communicate without yelling.” you hated being yelled at. every time someone raised their voice at you, tears would just fall like a waterfall. thankfully, you’ve managed to hold in your tears during class so chef hasn’t seen you cry.

“are you questioning my teaching skills now? “

shit. now you offended him.

“n-no that’s not what i meant, i just-“

“you don’t think i’m a good teacher ?” he said getting up closer to you, pretty much standing inches in front of you. suddenly you felt your heartbeat fasten.

“i d-do chef, i just kind of find it unfair?” you said, trying to not stutter all your words.

jay smirked, now standing less than a feet in front of you, grabbing your chin and holding it up, making you look straight at him. jay could definitely see your rosy cheeks that you were so embarrassedly trying to hide.

“am i making you nervous miss _____?” you only gulped, you didn’t even know what to respond to that, even though it was bluntly obvious based on your state right now.

the both of you didn’t say anything for a moment, the two just stared at each other, waiting for one to make a move first.

you don’t know exactly where you got the guts to actually make the move. you engulfed your chef into a suffocating kiss. the kiss itself was enough to show how much y’all were yearning for each other. jay was dying to do this ever since he laid his eyes on you, but you on the other hand, didn’t know how much you actually wanted to do this until now. sure you found him handsome and smart and literally perfect but you never expected for him to think of you the same way to the point we’re he’s actually kissing you back and heating up the kiss you once started. his tongue grazed over your lip. his hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer, melting into his embrace. your lips tasted so sweet, jay felt insatiable.

both of you forgot about the fact that this was very much not allowed. the world ceased to exist to exist at that moment. there were no boundaries, no constraints, just the two of you.

jay’s hand traveled down further and further, now down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze. the small action made you moan into his lips. even though your eyes were closed, you could feel him smirking at you.

your own hands travelled along his broad shoulders, down his shoulders. once again, confidence shot through you. your fingertips found their way to his belt buckle, about to undo it when his fingers wrapped around your wrist. stopping your movements.

“see you next class.” that’s all he said before gathering his things and leaving you there. high and dry.

that’s when you woke up. realizing what you were about to do, more like who you were about to do it with.

embarrassed. that’s what you were. he could literally lose his job what were you thinking?!

you let out a shaky sigh and left the empty room. all you need right now is a hot shower and sleep, you need to forget this ever happened. the worse thing is that tomorrow you still have to face him in class.

you knew showing up in the classroom that the two of you almost fucked in yesterday was going to be hard to show your face in. although no one noticed you, you just felt exposed. you refused to make eye contact with jay the whole time. jay definitely noticed this right away. he felt kind of bad in leaving you like that, but he knew that if he stayed there a little longer, he wouldn’t have controlled himself. he did think though, you looked kind of cute all shy and red, avoiding his eyes the whole class.

he took matters to his hands and approached you for the first time today, which was odd since he would’ve already yelled at you for something at this point.

“what are you working on miss ______?” his voice startled you, not even noticing he walked over to you.

“ just finishing the sauce for this.” you shortly said looking down at your food. jay’s stare didn’t leave your face once. and you could feel it very much. it felt hard to breathe at that moment. you have no doubt your face is boiling at his simple presence.

“ look at me when i’m speaking to you.” you didn’t want to. but he was still your teacher and the last thing you want to be is disrespectful so you looked at him. and god you wished you didn’t. those brown eyes have a world of its own. you found yourself staring at him shamelessly, forgetting he was speaking to you.

“are you even listening?” of course you weren’t yet you nodded assuringly.

“great then see you friday night.” you nodded but it took you a moments to realize what he said.

friday night? for what? this is what you get for daydreaming. embarrassingly, you asked him what he meant after you just told him you were listening to what he was saying.

jay chuckled and shook his head at your lie. “ i said if you were coming to the dinner i have set up for the class, since christmas is coming. and you responded yes, so you better be there miss ______.” he said with a smirk, palming your cheek. your eyes widened at his move. you looked around to see if anyone noticed, to your relief no one did as they were too focused on their food. “someone could’ve seen!” you whisper-shouted your chef. he just rolled his eyes and said “ just be there on friday, i have a gift for you.”

the last thing he said before walking away. you were left dumbfounded. what did any of that mean? you didn’t notice that you’ve doesn’t about 10 minutes just standing there thinking until you smelt something burning.

“your meat is overdone _____!!!” jake told you walking up to you turning the stove off.

shit.

you weren’t the one to like social events much. as a teenager, you barely went out with your friends. you were a proud nerd. always focused on school, that’s how you were thought to be, which explains how you’ve only made one friend (jake) ever since been here for months. now you’re gonna be forced to socialize for a whole evening.

you weren’t unprepared thankfully. you brought a couple of classy dresses with you, you could imagine that things like these were gonna happen. you eventually decided on a white silk dress. it was elegant yet comfortable for you. not too short or not too long as well. you decided to not do anything special with your hair and let it down.

you suddenly felt the urge to not go. the last person you want to see is your chef. you don’t see the point of going yet you kept doing your makeup, you just want to change into your pyjamas and lay in bed all night. a ding in your phone caught your attention, revealing a text message from jake.

-I’m here

it seemed like you have to go now. quickly you gathered your things and left your lot.

jay kept waiting and waiting. you was all he was waiting on. a bunch of people kept coming up and talking to him but he didn’t care. girls showed up trying to impress him, but nothing. he wanted you to come up to him, impress him.

what he didn’t expect is you coming in with some company. jake was obviously invited but not as your date, he thought. he could see his hand on your back as he said a few sorry’s for being late due to traffic. jay couldn’t focus on anything but you. what the fuck was jake saying to make you laugh so hard. was that on purpose? to see how he would react? jay couldn’t tell. it didn’t help how beautiful you looked tonight, more than usual. that fucker doesn’t get your beauty like he does.

the whole night jay kept quiet. stealing glances towards you and jake. when someone talked to him he kept his reposes dry. for a moment he could swear you stared at him.

jay didn’t miss when you stood up to go to the bathroom. he obviously took this opportunity to talk to you, if it wasn’t right now then it was never.

you left the bathroom, as a soon as you turned around, you were encaged. your breath hitched seeing who it was.

“c-chef?”

“oh please don’t act all innocent _____, i know what you’re trying to do.”

“i’m sorry..? i don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“coming in here with jake, wearing such tight dress showing off just enough to make me go crazy. do you realize how much power you have over me hm?”

you didn’t know what to respond to that. deep down you loved the way you made him feel. it was planned, at all, but it felt nice knowing how much little effort had an effect on him.

“ it’s not my fault that’s the way you think jay.” honourifics dropped. jay wasn’t expecting that response from you. the alcohol running through your blood was showing at the moment.

jay grabbed your neck and pulled you into a heated kiss. unlike your first kiss, this one was emerged in lust. both of your tongues entangled with each other. your hands rummaged through his hair pulling him closer to you.

all it took was a simple “wanna get out of here?” from jay for you to weaken in the knees, allowing your full submission to him.

“fuck jay, right ther-shit!” so much happened in the last thirty minutes, nothing could’ve prepared you to be eaten out by your teacher at that time.

you don’t even know how jay didn’t crash the car while driving to his house and completely stripping you in seconds. he ate your pussy like he’s been starving for months (which he was) your eyes rolled back, pulling his hair, engulfing him into you, wrapping your legs around his neck. jay was in fucking bliss.

“shit baby, you’re such a mess, so fucking sensitive.” he said pulling away from your cunt, earning a whine from you.

“such a desperate little brat. tell me, what do you want baby.” he said caressing your lips. you couldn’t stop biting them. from your angle, you could see everything of him. his sharp eyes staring down at you, his biceps, his chest, his abs, fuck you could cum right there.

“fuck me jay, i want you to use me.” unlike other instances, you didn’t break eye contact making him moan before grabbing your thighs and spreading them around his pelvis. your core was dying for his cock, it was noticible from how swollen it was.

jay rubbed his head along your folds before looking up at you for reassurance. you nodded, desperate written all over your face.

the first thrust in you was insane. the stretch felt like he was ripping up your insides. it was painful, a good type of pain. “fuck you’re so fucking big jay.” jay only groaned. he couldn’t even say anything, this was better than anything he could ever imagine.

once he was fully in he started to move in and out of your core, grabbing your waist, feeling himself in you. the crude sounds coming out of the both of you echoed throughout the house. jay’s hands played with your tits while you grabbed his waist, making sure he stays inside you as much possible.

“shit you’re so tight, that’s pussy’s all mine ain’t it?” his hand left your tits and started rubbing your clit while his thrusts turned very hostile you couldn’t even form words from the immense amount of pleasure.

“yes yes, it’s all your baby.”

jay didn’t think it could get better than this, but it did.

he flipped you over, now on all-fours, back arched. not wasting any time in fucking you from behind. he groped your ass, leaving his hand marks all over them.

you were about to explode when a ring could be heard, more specifically from your phone. you looked over it on the night stand seeing ‘jake’ displayed on the screen. shit you completely forgot that you just left him at the restaurant. you could call him back lat-

“answer it.” jay said from behind you sternly, fucking you even deeper.

“i don’t think i ca-“

“answer the fucking phone, it must be important.” as much as he didn’t like jake, it turned him on the way you could barely breath let alone speak while he’s fucking you restlessly.

you could barely talk but you managed to grab the phone and answer it, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“ sorry jake, i just wasn’t-hmp feeling well.” your hand went over your mouth to stop you from moaning into the phone. jay was just laughing in the background at your state right now.

“yea yea i-i’m so sorry, have f-fun though.” you nodded at his last sentence before hanging up and glaring at jay from behind you.

“fuck you!” you said then slamming your head into the pillow letting out muffled moans.

“i’m quite literally doing that baby.” you rolled your eyes in pleasure and annoyance. your orgasm was very close, even jay could feel the way you clench around him.

“fuck i’m cumming, so fucking close.” your weak voice said .

jay was on the same boat, he would’ve cum way earlier but it just felt so damn good, he wanted to treasure every moment.

“me too baby, c’mon cum all over my dick, do it baby.” that’s exactly what you did. your body twitched at the sudden feeling. your body going limp.

jay was also on edge, with a few more thrust he pulled out of you and came all over your back moaning in the process.

after the two of you balanced your breathing, jay laid next to you caressing your hair, the both of you were just giggling like little kids.

“so this was the gift you were talking about?”

[alderaana]

pretty, pretty girl.

leon kennedy is your older brother's best friend, you're freshly eighteen.

nsfw, p-v, virgin reader, slightly older leon. please wrap it before you tap it.

Your birthday was highly anticipated. Finally legal, so many opportunities that have opened up to you. Your parents had showered you with gifts all day, leading up to your party tonight.

"Happy birthday sis, here's a little something from me."

Your brother smiles, handing you a medium wrapped box. You smile, tearing the package as he leans up against the wall to watch you.

"Oh my god- Danny you seriously didn't.."

You were met with a signed slipknot shirt, all of the current members had signed it...

"i jumped through hoops for that so you better love it."

Your brother laughs as you engulf him in a huge hug.

"Thank you so much, seriously this is amazing."

"Don't sweat it kid, you made it to the border of adulthood."

You smile, admiring the shirt and thanking your brother again. making your way upstairs, you glance over your notifications of all of your friends wishing you happy birthday.

You place the shirt on your desk, admiring it fully before hearing your parents call you downstairs.

"coming!"

The stairs are stiff as you run down them, finding your parents in the kitchen.

"Hey birthday girl! your party is going to start soon, we wanted to know if you had a time for the family to leave and it just be us and your friends?"

You nod.

"Can it be around 8? I think that will be enough time for grandma and grandpa since the party starts at three."

"Sounds great. well help round them up around eight then."

Your mom smiles as your dad opens his phone, presumably to let the family that was coming know. you had a bunch of your friends coming over to spend the night for your birthday.

---

Your family all came pouring into your living room, holding gifts as you and your parents greeted them. Soon after your friends were doing the same.

The party was fun, but oddly overstimulating. There are so many people in your house which wasn't common at all. When it came time for cake, everyone gathered around as you stared at the Sicilian cheesecake with a candle sat in front of you.  The tension was high in your brain as everyone serenades you for your occasion.

The candles flicker out as you blew them out, the sounds of cheers as you did so. A good amount of "you made it!" and "you're getting so grown" were thrown towards you as everyone cut their slice out. You smiled at everyone, enjoying your cake.

Presents were the most exciting yet nervous time of the night. Lots of money made its way into your hands, your friends gifting you lots of casually sexual things which you would laugh with them about later.

"Thank you all so much, seriously. I am so grateful."

Your smile seals your sentiment as your family all gather around to take a picture with you. a momentum for the scrapbook, you finally being legal.

"Alright, it's getting late you all."

Your mother pipes in, silently hinting for everyone to roll out so you could spend just one on one time with your friends.  Everyone wishes you one last time as they roll out slowly, some help pick up and take some food from dinner home.

Your mother sighs as she shuts the door, turning back to you and your friends.

"Alright girls. we'll leave you alone now, don't go too crazy."

Both of your parents head upstairs, leaving you with your friends.

"So what now hm?"

Jess pipes in, giggling with everyone else.

"I honestly don't know. my family was kind of exhausting."

You say, rubbing your eyes as you turn the tv on.

"Do you guys want to watch a movie?"

"Let's just listen to music, you'll pass out if you watch a movie."

Madi says laughing, grabbing the remote and putting on a party playlist.

"Yeah come on, it's your birthday let's make the day last!"

You laugh, shaking your head as they make you stand up, encouraging you to dance with them.

"You guys are insane, fine."

You dance with them, letting yourself enjoy it as they turn the lights off. The TV being the only illumination as you danced more with them. Madi grabs your sides, giggling as she dances up against you. You all laughing as Jess takes pictures, both of you posing stupidly as the music plays louder.

"Hey! turn that down. mom and dad are asleep."

Your brother says from the bottom of the stairs, laughing at all of you.

"Sorry Danny, guess we just got a bit carried away."

Your friends laugh and hum in agreement.

"Well, either way I had to get something from downstairs and it was way too loud coming out of my bedroom."

You laugh, watching your brother head towards the front door, assuming he's getting something from his car.

Unfortunately, you were wrong. he opened the door and you were met with his best friend holding a present. The man was wearing a leather jacket, his hair slightly damp as it was pouring rain outside.

"Am i late to the party?"

You freeze, your friends being confused. He smirks as he with one arm goes in for a hug and pat on the back with your brother.

"Sorry, i totally forgot to tell you Leon was coming over sis."

You shakily laugh as you regain your composure.

"No it's fine, and no you aren't late at all."

Leon walks up to you, handing you the gift.

"Good, this is for you kiddo."

"You seriously didn't have to Leon."

You admire the packaging, its decorated with black sleek wrapping paper, a red bow decorating the top.

"C'mon, open it."

Your friends sit up, looking at you as you awkwardly look down at it. Your hands slowly unwrap the present, treating it as if it was a bomb in your hands.

Inside the box was a bomber jacket, black with gold embroidery on the back that made into a moth.

"Holy shit Leon. where the fuck did you get this?"

He laughs, happy with your reaction. You smile wide as you throw it on, it fits exactly how you wanted it to.

"Looks perfect on you."

A blush creeps over your face as you surge forward, hugging Leon tightly. he's caught off guard, slowly hugging you back.

"She doesn't even hug me, and my gift was better!"

Your brother says, laughing in shock. Leon looks over at him, laughing lightly as you break the hug.

"The slipknot shirt was just as good Danny, I just don't want to touch you. you reek of old spice and Leon doesn't."

You and your friends laugh, Leon trying not to join as your brother's face looks jokingly offended.

"Okay, you're lucky it's your birthday or I seriously would have went there."

He points at you menacingly as you laugh.

"Alright, i'm going to hang out with Danny now."

He ruffles your hair.

"Happy birthday again."

Leon smiles as he heads upstairs with your brother.

"Dude your brother's friend is hot."

Jess whispers, you glaring her down.

"I fucking know. and he's always been hot..." you sigh, Madi and Jess looking at eachother in glances.

"so what's stopping you now?"

Madi asks, searching for your answer. The idea was in your mind, especially with the way he hugged you back. He was always someone you crushed on, ever since Leon and Danny started being friends. that was five years ago, but you never let it really control you. He always seemed like someone out of reach even if you tried. for god's sake he's 23, and you're freshly 18.

"Uhh..."

You look down, shyly shuffling your feet.

"Because he's way older you guys. he's 23 just like Danny."

Madi laughs, "and?"

You scoff.

"That's a bit of difference.... i don't know you guys."

Your friends look at you like you said something outlandishly stupid.

"Dude... even if he doesn't seem interested i would try and go for it."

"You guys are being bad influences cmon.."

"Bad influences?? with the way that man looks? no we definitely aren't."

You sigh, sitting down in between them.

"Dude, just go upstairs and find a lame excuse to be in Danny's room."

It wasn't a bad idea, there were several things you could go into his room for. Asking if he had an empty laundry basket, keys to his car because you left something in his car, etc...

"Okay well let's go to my room and think about this more."

Madi claps excitedly, "yes let's make tonight us helping you out as wingwomen." Jess smiles and nods, all of you heading upstairs to your room. which uncomfortably was next to Danny's. Footsteps were soft as everyone heads into your room. Madi plopping onto your bed as Jess sits in the chair for your desk. You close the door and look back at them, who both share the biggest shit eating grin.

"Guys come on... don't look at me like that."

"Okay, so what if you go in there and ask if Danny can heat up some of the food from dinner.” 

You deadpan Jess. 

“What.. i’m hungry it’s not like you’re lying.”

Sighing, you nod and make your way out of the room. Stopping at the closed door to your brother’s room. You could hear them laughing, playing some sort of video game. You suck in deeply and open the door, being met with Leon sprawled out on the bed watching your brother play some game. They both turn towards you, and notice Leon wearing a black tee that fit him extremely well. 

“Danny can you heat up some of the food for my friends and we’re hungry again.”

He looks annoyed as he shakes his head. 

“Can’t you do it yourself? It’s literally so simple.”

“Yeah but it’s my birthday and i won’t put that on my friends.”

Danny gets up, visibly annoyed and loudly sighs. 

“Fine.”

Leon laughs, watching Danny leave the room.

“He was in the middle of a match, but good job making him get up.”

You nervously lean up against the doorway, smiling at Leon.

“You should see him when you’re not around.”

Leon props himself onto his elbows, making direct eye contact with you.

“Oh believe me, i’ve known him so long i hear about it every single time now.”

You scoff, jokingly holding your chest.

“Wow. what a brother.”

You admire Leon as he laughs, his legs spread apart and his sweatpants fit exactly how you want them to. 

“Cmon, you know Danny. How surprised can you be.”

You giggle back, nodding in agreement. 

“I guess you’re right.”

You bite your lip gently, focusing on the floor for a second before deciding to be bold. 

“So Danny told me you’ve been enjoying your federal job? How is that going?”

He sits up more, now on the edge of the bed. His elbows propped on his knees as he looks up at you. 

“It’s alright. I make the money i want to, and i’d like to say i’m pretty good at what I do.”

You gently nod, shifting against the doorway. 

“You don’t come around as often because of it.. I noticed that. Danny did too.”

He smiles, looking at his hand.

“You pay attention to that?”

His tone gets flirty, and a little stern. It catches you off guard.

“Well…. Don’t say it like that..”

He stands up, getting closer as you start to internally panic.

“Oh i know it’s exactly like that.”

He leans closer, his hand running underneath your chin forcing you to make eye contact with him. You couldn’t feel air in your lungs as you stare into his gaze, him smirking slightly as he towers over you. 

“I’m going to check on Danny, we can talk about this later birthday girl.”

Leon chuckles, walking past you and going downstairs. You couldn’t feel your face as you try and calm your breath. What the fuck?

You walk into your room, being met with two faces of anticipation.

“Well?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Danny has food ready downstairs, let's go.”

You turn around, walking down the stairs as your friends lightly tap your shoulder unspokenly asking what happened. 

You avoid eye contact as Danny hands you a plate of food, sitting on the couch. Your friends thanking Danny. You focus on your food until Leon sits near you on the couch. They had made themselves a plate as well, but the silence was killing everyone. Your phone buzzes underneath your leg.

Jess: dude WHAT happened…… it’s so awkward? Did it go badly? 

You look up, glaring Jess down from your end of the couch. 

“I think i’m just going to eat in my room, you coming le?”

Danny asks, waiting for Leon.

“Nah, i’ll finish then come up.”

“Yeah we might do the same Danny.”

Your friends follow Danny upstairs with their plates, leaving you and Leon alone. Fuck. your phone vibrates again.

Madi: this is for your own good 

You sigh, throwing your phone down and trying to just focus on your food. 

“Your friends know what they’re doing, huh?”

Leon laughs, standing up and putting his plate in the dishwasher. He makes his way over to you, grabbing your empty plate and doing the same. You try to get up and make a run for upstairs but Leon stops you before you can even think about it. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re nervous….. I love it.” 

He holds eye contact with you, and all you can do is lightly gulp unsure of how to react. 

“L-Leon what are you doing”

He grabs your wrist, standing up and forcing your chest against his.

“Don’t play fucking dumb.”

You try to free his grip, but he already was so much stronger than you. His free hand comes to run through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” 

His hand comes underneath your chin again, bringing it to his face as he lays a gentle kiss to yours. You catch yourself kissing back, his hand slowly letting go of your wrist. You could feel your heart rate going through the roof, his hand catching your lower back. 

“Leon…”

“Your brother is going to notice me being gone for so long.”

He smirks, letting go of you and heading upstairs. Again, what the fuck?

You stand there for a moment, realizing that this was the second time he had left you in that position now. Why was he treating you this way? He was just calling you kiddo earlier. My god. You grab your phone, heading upstairs and finding your friends. 

“Seriously guys. That was fucked up.”

More confused looks. 

“What even happened?”

You sigh, throwing yourself onto your bed. As you speak, you zone out at the ceiling. 

“He kissed me, then just left.”

They both jump up, trying to not squeal since he was literally in the room next to theirs. 

“Dude… you’re in!!!”

“I don’t even know… he just left me so fucking confused.”

“Oh shut up. Do you think he’ll take your virginity?? Oh my god. Jess, we need to sleep in the guest room.”

Madi exclaims to Jess, causing you to roll over and scream into your pillow. 

“Guys! Stopppp.”

You try not to smile, but you definitely weren’t good at it. You were just okay with kissing him, but losing your virginity? That was a dream come true.

“You know what… It is getting late.” 

Jess smugly smiles at Madi, who nods in agreement. 

“Yeah. it is.. Guess we will have to sleep in the guest bedroom now.”

They both get up, starting to grab their things. You can’t even stop them as by the time you could even argue they were out of your room.

“Oh my god. They just fucking bailed on me. This is not fair.”

You get up, sighing as you turn your light off. You could hear Danny lightly snoring as you laid down in bed. You open your phone up, texting Jess and Madi that they were dicks but that you loved them at the same time. You scroll on social media, before getting up to use the bathroom.

The hallway was dark, and you stumble around until you open the bathroom door. After finishing your business you wash your hands, admiring yourself in the mirror before drying your hands and heading back to your bedroom. 

As soon as you close your door, you turn around to find Leon sitting on your bed. 

“Your friends ditched you.”

He spoke in a whisper, but you could still hear how smug he was about it. 

“What are you doing in here-”

Leon pulls you towards him, you stare down at him. The only thing illuminating the both of you was your lamp on your desk. 

“Finishing what I started, that’s all.”

“And what is that, Leon?”

He trails his hands up and down your sides, his hands slightly underneath the bottom of your shirt. 

“So beautiful.”

He breathes out, his hands trailing farther up your shirt. You put your hands on his chest, subtly stopping him. 

“Leon, if you’re fucking with me. It’s obviously working. Is this some dare Danny made you do? Because that is low.” 

He pulls you into his lap, causing you to gasp in surprise as he holds your back.

“Danny would kill me if he caught us like this, so no.”

He smiles, watching your face determine and realize what’s happening. He cups your face with his other hand, kissing you again. Leon’s hand on your back lowers, cupping your ass. You moan into the kiss which encourages Leon even more. He grabs your ass, his hips pressing into you. The kiss deepens, and you can feel his boner underneath you.

“Fuck.”

He breathes out, admiring your face as you stare right back at him. You catch yourself sitting up, straddling him better. His hands meet your hips encouraging you to keep doing what you were doing. You lean down, kissing Leon harder as his hips press up slightly from the contact.

You run your fingers through his hair, then cupping the side of his face. Leon is an amazing kisser, he really knows how to take the lead. His tongue moved perfectly against yours, biting on his lower lip caused him to grip your hips harder. 

“Let me take care of you…. It’s your birthday.”

Before you can respond, he flips you onto your back. He leans over you, kissing slowly down your neck as he bites and licks small hickeys onto it. You whine which causes him to slowly grind into you. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the attention. His hand comes up, cupping your boob as he kisses more into your neck.

“Leon please..”

He perks up, a smirk on his face.

“Please what, princess?”

You blush, feeling yourself heat up as your core throbs at the pet name. He looks down at your shirt. 

“Let’s take this off. Is that what you want?”

You nod shyly, letting Leon help you out of your shirt. His breath hitches at your lace bra, obviously not expecting that. He leans in and kisses you harder, excited over the new exposure of skin. 

“So beautiful baby… going to make you feel so good I promise..”

Leon breathes out, kissing your neck again and trailing down to your boobs. You grab his hair, lightly moaning as he leaves darker hickeys on your tits. You grab at the bottom of his shirt, silently asking for him to take his off as well. 

“Yeah? Alright baby….”

He leans up, taking his shirt off. His body was insane… You knew he went to the gym but he was built. You catch yourself staring before Leon leans down again. You feel along his back as he kisses you, his hips starting to grind against you again. You whimper into his lips, causing him to smirk into the kisses. Leon’s hand trails down to the waistband of your pants. 

“Do you want this?”

You blush at the question, starting to slightly tremble at the excitement. 

“Yes Leon..”

“Ill be gentle, just for you baby.”

He smiles, sitting up to pull your pants off. His breath hitches as he realizes your panties match your bra, causing his dick to jump a little. He tosses your pants onto the floor, laying further down, spreading your legs. You can’t stop trembling as you watch him. His broad shoulders hold your legs as his arms hold your thighs. He looks up at you, smiling. He taps your thigh with his finger, silently saying it’s okay. You calm down, giving Leon the leeway to start. 

His hand trails over your clit, admiring the underwear. He slowly pulls it to the side, admiring how beautiful you are. 

“Oh my god..”

You feel Leon sigh onto your pussy, the bed slightly moving from Leon grinding into the mattress. He gently feels your entrance, admiring the slick you’ve produced. He licks his fingers, slightly whining at the taste. 

“Mmnmmm. Are you ready?”

You nod, still nervous. He slowly peppers kisses around your thighs, finally latching onto your clit. You whine, trying to be quiet. He smiles against you, licking up and down. He enjoyed the taste, letting his finger tease your entrance as he focused on your clit with his tongue. You arch your back and press yourself against his face. He loves all of it. The way you already are breaking out into a sweat because of him.

“L’Leon..”

You grab his hair slightly, causing his pace to speed up. His fingers slowly dipping into you more. You can already feel your orgasm building up. His smirk is imprinted into your clit as he eats you out. You feel your legs spread farther, but Leon stops that very quickly. Leon’s fingers quicken alongside his tongue, your orgasm almost there.

“Leon please… im going to …. Please fuck fuck fuck..”

“Come on babygirl… let me taste it.”

That sends you over the edge, you can feel him moan into your pussy as you clench around his fingers. Your grip on his hair not helping. You try and catch your breath, Leon pulling his fingers out and his tongue laps up your cum.

“So good…. You did so good princess.”

You cover your face in embarrassment, which isn’t for long as Leon pulls your hands out of your face to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue, him moaning into the kiss. You trail your hand down to feel his hard on. Which causes him to moan into the kiss more. 

“Please Leon….. Fuck me.”

He smiles, petting your hair again. He nods, taking his sweats off leaving him in his boxers. You pull him into you, feeling his boner against your core. He takes you in for a kiss again, grinding into you fully this time. You’re shaking with anticipation again, moaning at the friction. Leon tugs at your underwear, slowly pulling them off for you. 

He then motions you to sit up, helping you pull your bra off. His eyes latch onto your bare tits, admiring how perfect they were. You lay back again, watching as Leon pulls his boxers down. His dick springs free, precum leaking. He was huge. You internally panicked, and he picked up on that. 

“It’s okay, we can go slow unless you want to stop.”

“No. it’s okay, it’s just my first time.”

His dick twitches at that, causing Leon to smile.

“Is it? I'm going to set a high expectation then.” 

You blush, trying to look away. He grabs your face, kissing you as you feel his tip brush against your entrance. You grind into him, both of you moaning at the contact. 

“If you keep doing that i will fuck the shit out of you baby.”

You apologize, which causes Leon to laugh. 

“So cute.”

He sits up, pushing your thighs to your chest. He grabs his dick, gathering your slick onto his dick. He quietly groans at the sensation. He lines himself up and looks at you again.

“Ready?” 

You shyly nod. He pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to him. You well up with tears, trying not to cry. You feel how much he stretches you, glad he prepped you beforehand. 

“Shhh.. shhh. It’s okay. You can take it. Fuck you’re so tight”

Leon wipes your tears away, giving you gentle kisses as he pushes more and more into you. 

“Doing so good for me baby…. Look at you. Take me so well, especially for your first time.”

He kisses your neck, almost bottoming out now. You feel yourself wince as he does, glad it finally was over. Leon kisses you again, trying to help ease you. It works, it really helps you relax, his hand running through your hair. You start to clench around Leon, feeling yourself at ease.

“Fuck….. So tight… I don't think I'll last..”

Leon sighs into your skin, slowly pulling out. The feeling making you whimper as he pulls almost all the way out before slowly pushing back in. This causes a low moan from Leon and a whimper from you.

“Oh my god.”

He bites your neck to prevent himself from moaning loudly as he repeatedly slowly pulls out and pushes in. Both of you in pure bliss as he does so. 

“Are you doing okay princess?”

You nod, feeling yourself moan as he holds your thighs to your chest, starting to pick up his speed. 

“God i’m trying so hard to be gentle but you feel so fucking amazing.”

“You can go faster I- i can take it.”

You grab at his back, then your other hand holding the nape of his neck as he picks up his speed. 

“So fucking beautiful… look at you. This pussy is perfect.”

He leans down, sucking your nipple and pinching the other. The sound of his thrusts starts to get louder. Leon didn’t care, he was way too busy with how amazing you were to care about anyone else in the house. You can feel yourself tighten as he goes harder. He sits up, his hands digging into your thighs as he starts to go as fast as he can into you. You’re moaning as quietly as you can now but he’s practically hitting your cervix with how hard and fast he was going. 

Leon’s face scrunches, enjoying the way you feel around him. You can feel your orgasm building up which causes you to whine. Leon whimpers as he feels you pulse around him.

“Baby i’m about to cum inside of you if you keep doing that.”

Your back arches.

“Please cum in me Leon please..”

You feel him speed up even more.

“Yeah? Going to fuck myself into you… fill this pussy up.. Make you mine. You are mine. After this. Going to cum inside my princess’s pussy real hard for her.”

You can feel how he’s about to, which sends you into your orgasm. Your head is thrown back into the pillow, feeling your walls pulse around him as he releases into your pussy. His pace is still the same, slowing down as he makes sure he cums every last drop into you. You catch your breath as Leon collapses on top of you. You hold onto his back, and the back of his head.

“Fuck Leon..”

He laughs into the skin of your neck, still inside of you. 

“Was it good for your first time?”

“That was perfect.”

He kisses your neck, moving up to kiss your cheek. Petting your hair, he admires your face and smiles. Leon sits up, slowly pulling out of you. He watches as his cum slowly leaks out of you, a big smile on his face. 

“Let me clean you up, pretty girl.”

He stands up, finding a towel from your laundry and helping clean you up. Leon then pulls his clothes on, searching for yours and helping you get dressed. 

“Please don’t leave this time Leon.”

He smiles at you, admiring how pretty you truly are.

“I wasn’t even planning on it, babygirl.”

He lays down, pulling the covers over the both of you. Letting yourself fall asleep, you enjoy Leon's big arms cradling you as he cuddles into your neck.