#would make some dirty jokes about it but i can't come up with any right now

[bizarrelittlemew]

being such a good girl (gn) and taking my supplements

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Epilogue | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: months have passed since the finals with no sign of Aemond, making you wonder if anything has changed | Word Count: 6k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: p in v sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, praise, *a finger in the bum*, butt play, ass eating, orgasm denial, creampie, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping

A/N: *don't get emosh, don't get emosh, don't get emosh* I can't believe it's really REALLY the end! I've had this idea for the Epilogue for AGES and can't wait for you all to read the last instalment of our figure skating couple <3 would die for them and hope you enjoy!

"Good, but bend your knees!" You shout to El who's still got her hands outstretched haphazardly, wobbling on the ice as others whizz past her, knocking her off balance.

She throws a middle finger.

Charming.

You laugh as she pushes off to do another lap, reaching down between your legs for the bag and pulling your phone out for any new texts.

Nothing, you sigh.

El makes you jump, bumping into the ledge, "Will you stop being a simp and checking your phone every two seconds? He's going to text you!"

You click your phone off, "I know. I'm just so impatientttt…" you whine, exaggerating your frustration.

El rolls her eyes, "He'll get in, bud"

"Ew, don't call me that"

"Besides, if he gets rejected, he could always be your new manager, pal" she grins.

"You're so fucking gross, you know that?"

She shrugs, a grin that spells victory, "that'd be kinda hot to be fair. Going everywhere with you to competitions, organising your hotel rooms, fucking you over his des-"

"El! For fucks sake" you whisper-shout, heat rising to your cheeks.

A few other skaters on the ice turn their heads in judgment, making your face burn with embarrassment.

"Gods, so uptight" El jokes, a mischievous grin on her face.

To tell the truth. You missed Aemond. In all aspects.

You hadn't had sex since being in Dorne. And you hadn't seen him since the hospital.

Even though you texted most days, after months of seeing him everyday, it was quite the shock to the system.

It felt like there was a hole, conveniently Aemond-shaped, that was deepening the longer you two were separated.

"Oof!"

You both look up, to see Floris on the ice, wobbling her way back onto her feet, grimacing, "I'm ok!" She reassures, pushing off to skate slowly.

You nod in Floris' direction, "Is she okay skating?"

"Yeah, the physiotherapist said it'd be good to get her doing things like this again" El replies, looking over her shoulder at her sister.

She turns back to you, "Your manager doesn't hang around here anymore. Not since Floris has started coming back".

You resist the urge to frown.

Coward.

“Got you”, El smirks mischievously, "will you tell me what happened one day?"

It was something you’d thought about for some time. To tell her, or not? Floris certainly didn’t know the deeper details, but you knew she would have had suspicions.

Aemond was obviously unbothered if such information circulated, having put a very large proverbial wall between him and Otto the moment he was discharged from hospital. And yet, it still wouldn’t feel right, airing out all the Targaryen dirty laundry like that.

Even if he said it was okay.

But maybe, on a deeper level, Floris and El at least, deserved the truth.

"One day" you promise.

The cold winter chill nips at your bones, even through the layers of thermal clothing you've got piled on, the thick socks, boots and an overcoat, it still feels positively freezing.

“Who are you texting, missy?” you tease, bumping El on the shoulder, shoving your hands into your thick coat pockets.

She flushes, from the weather or the embarrassment you are unsure, but she puts her phone away quickly, “Nobody, you nosy cow”

King's Landing Winter Wonderland, Christmas Market and trinket shops, though it's far too early for any of that, it gets the people into the spirit. Stalls line the market square with several of them selling holiday related items as well as food, with an ice rink circling the entirety of the perimeter.

The air smells of mulled wine, cooked meats and the laughter of families and couples alike. With their warm breath creating clouds of white with each exhale.

El has you excitedly tucked into her arm, telling you all about her newest boyfriend, who for all intents and purposes is both hot and a keeper.

Ah, so that’s who she was talking to.

"He's already talking about us moving in together! Before the end of the year" She says excitedly, but her face falls, "but…I don't want to leave you in the lurch paying the rent by yourself".

You scoff, "I won't take you away from good dick because of fucking rent" you smirk, "if you want to, go for it".

She arches her eyebrows in uncertainty, "You sure?"

You pat her gloved hand with yours, "very", you smile, "as long as he doesn't steal you away from me, I want the lowdown".

"Oh you'll get that alright", she laughs.

Having poked your heads into a few stalls, and several sips of mulled wine later, you smirk as El is glued to her phone. Again.

"That your man?" You ask.

She quickly puts it away, biting her lip, "Yup" she replies, "wanna go skating?"

You roll your eyes, "It's not like it's my fucking job, El. Sick of it".

"Oh come on! I won't have to use the kids stabilisers anymore!"

She gives you her wide, puppy-like eyes.

Ones you know you can't refuse.

"Fine" you sigh.

She is far too excited to say that literally a few hours before she was struggling to use her two flippers to stay upright on the rink. Nevermind going backwards.

It’s quite entertaining to see her drag you by the hand excitedly to the ticket gate.

“One ticket for skating, please! Size 5!” she beams at the receptionist, who looks like he’d rather be dead right now.

You furrow your brows, “One? Did you want to go on by yourself and I watch or-”

“Nope! Just you” she grins.

“Me? El, what in seven hells are you on abou-”

She shoves the skates into your hands and practically pushes you past the gate, waving you off, “no questions!”

You don’t even really have time to cuss her out/question the situation, it feels like your brain is in overdrive.

There, either hand leaning against the entrance to the ice rink, where the public are zipping around slowly, laughing, pink in the face, hand in hand, is Aemond. The familiar ribbons of platinum hair that have fallen from the hair tie, now slightly waved from the moisture in the air, sways with the breeze at his shoulders.

He has that slack smirk on his face, his tall broad form leaning on one side, ankles crossed with the low quality skates on, tapping the tip onto the ice.

Even in a heavy looking coat, his hair messily done up and pink cheeks from where the cold had been hitting them, he still looks every bit as handsome as you remembered him.

It makes your heart sigh to see him smile at you with that glimmer in his eye. Blinking slowly and admiringly at you.

"Hey, Princess", he greets warmly.

You almost drop the skates in your hands, the cold wisps of wind making you realise now that your eyes are all wet.

You're sure his name slips out before you crash into his arms, flinging yours around his neck.

He smells just like he used to.

And all those good memories just flood back at once, making that wetness behind your eyes form actual teardrops that line your cheeks.

You feel him laugh a little, one of his big hands on your back, "missed me then?", he prods in a smooth tone.

Fuck. His voice.

You didn't realise you'd missed hearing it so much.

When you pull away, to properly look at his face, he's still smiling, in that classic 'Aemond' way.

You're so engrossed with just looking at him, you nearly flinch when you feel his thumb wipe your under eye softly, wiping the moisture away.

His gaze softens, "don't cry. I don't look that bad, do I?"

Giving a watery laugh, you shake your head, "Just missed you".

His hand is still around your waist, inadvertently pulling you close to him so your hands hover over his chest, "Now, now, don't get all soft on me".

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"How?.."

Aemond gestures with his head, "El organised it".

"But…she's-"

"With her new boyfriend, don't worry. It's just us, princess" Aemond smiles, picking up the skates you'd dropped.

"For old time's sake?" He smiles.

And all you can do is blush and smile up at him like a little lovesick teenager.

It feels utterly strange to get back on the ice with Aemond again, even if it is a public one in the middle of a Christmas market. Even more so that he's not flinging you around in all sorts of twists and jumps.

But it feels nice.

Hand in gloved hand, you glide about together, catching up.

Alicent, you learn, has gotten back in touch with her long time friend. Aemond furrows his brows when he recollects that usually she's on facetime with a glass of Dornish Red in one hand and creasing up in front of her iPad at something her friend has said.

Aegon. Well, he's Aegon. Aemond's words, not yours. But he's working on getting a teaching qualification so that he can coach skating instead. It's nice that he was able to find something to use his skills for. Other than womanising.

"Had minor surgery on my nerves…they think it'll do the trick for some years, hopefully forever" he says as you weave on either foot.

"Well that's good" you smile, "does it feel better?"

He nods, "Oh and Hel has a new partner".

You look over quickly, one eyebrow poised, "And? Was I right?"

Smirking, Aemond has to resist the urge to roll his eye, "Yes, you were right".

"Yes! I knew it! I knew she was bi!"

You flush when some families around you look over when you shout it a bit too loud.

Oops.

Aemond tugs you to his side by your waist, humming in a kind of quiet laugh. A comfortable silence descends, just enjoying one another's company.

"I got in", he says suddenly. Stealing your attention again as your feet synchronise in short glides.

"Got in?"

"KLU".

"KLU? Oh my god-" you surge up, his face between your hands, but he doesn't complain, and kiss him fiercely, "Congratulations, Aemond. Oh my gosh, that's-"

You beam with pride.

And you can tell he genuinely loves it, by the way he blushes slightly.

"And" he goes on, his face close to yours, smirking at the confused look on your face.

"And?..."

He licks his lips before he speaks.

"I got a place" he adds, "and was wondering…if you…"

He trails off. And your face settles into realisation. Your heart hammering in your chest, like the engine of an old train.

He shrugs, clearing his throat, “You know, because we basically spent all our time together during the championships…”

You swallow thickly, "Really?..." it comes out weaker than you intended.

He nods, “It’s just out of town, not far from here really” he gestures in the vague direction with his head, the hand that’s resting at your waist dropping somewhat.

Blinking the emotion from your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Alright, Mr Moneybags”

He doesn’t laugh, like you expect him to, but he does smile at least. At this point, you seem to have come to a stop, your skates nestled between his to keep you both stable.

His darkened gaze just looks at your face. Studies it.

Like he’s opened a book and is reading through the pages.

When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but feel a flutter deep in your chest. It feels like he is drawing on you softly, like a thousand little butterflies have landed on your face, and are slowly opening and closing their wings.

You shudder when his warm, ungloved thumb brushes against your cheek.

“What?...” you smile at him affectionately.

He hums, a cloud escaping his lips as he speaks, “I’ve missed you”.

All you feel is the ledge of the ice rink press against your lower back and yours and Aemond’s noses brushing against one another as he presses his warm, comforting lips to yours.

He takes his time, moving languidly against your lips with a soft, wet beat, his tongue parting your lips as if he had been waiting all this time to taste you properly.

He tastes just as you remember.

A hint of cigarettes that he’s tried to hide with spearmint.

When you break away, you can’t ignore the warm feeling that blooms in your gut. In all the time you’d spent apart, you forgot how his lips felt on yours, how his hands felt on you, and how his mere presence around you made arousal creep up your thighs.

Gods, it’s been so long.

A blush creeps up your neck to your face, and Aemond smirks.

“Stop that”

Your lower lip catches between your teeth before you reply, “What?”

He leans against the ledge, caging you in with his own body.

“Blushing”

His voice lowers.

“Otherwise I’ll give you something to blush about”

The tension was thick as you and Aemond trudged through the Christmas Market after vacating the ice rink. You tried to lighten it by doing idle things like looking at the homemade ornaments on one stand, to sharing a cup of mulled wine between you, feeling the way the liquid warmed your insides.

That warmth was nothing compared to the way Aemond looked at you.

It reminded you of all those months ago, at the hotel, before the dynamic of your relationship changed. The way he used to stare at you from across the room, in what you wrongly thought at the time was out of disinterest and detest.

How wrong you were.

Shooting off a quick text to El, who you were sure was already back at the flat anyway, enjoying all the ‘assets’ of her new boyfriend, you walk hand in hand with Aemond back to his apartment.

He was very intent on showing you his new place. And your insides fluttered in anticipation, heat crawling up your neck.

His apartment was nice. Not that you expected any less. It was several floors high, showing a good view of King’s Landing and the bright, illuminated Christmas Market in the square below. Even from here, through the tall and wide windows of the living room, you could see the couples zipping around the ice rink, as you both were just a few moments before.

It had that ‘new apartment’ smell, but whenever you brushed past a coat of his or a blanket, it smelled like him. The walls were bare, but you were sure that Aemond would decorate when he was properly settled.

“Is Vhagar going to be coming here?” you ask, cupping the warm mug of tea in your hands as Aemond gives it to you.

“Maybe. She’s quite settled at Mum’s though so…I don’t want to make her anxious”.

You nod, “It’s a nice place”

“Will look even better when you’re here” he smirks, bending down to huff himself onto the sofa, “I’m sure you have better ideas than I do on interior design”.

You simply watch him for a moment, the warmth of his apartment making your previously cold hands feel prickly. Your fingers tap against the ceramic, the sound of Aemond’s playlist rumbling quietly from a speaker in a different room.

Placing the mug on the coffee table, Aemond exhales as your legs rest either side of his torso, moving to sit atop him with your hands stealing beneath his shirt, watching as his pink lips part for breath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess” he murmurs against your lips as he leans up, his large hands squeezing your ass, moulding the flesh to his grip and eliciting a low gasp from your lips.

"Who says it's a game?" You whisper back, teasing him by brushing your lips against his, moving your hips on him and smiling when you feel him harden instantly.

" - fuck - "

You know he hates it, just hates it, when you smirk at how pent up and desperate he gets. But you just can't help it. Not only is it all too easy, it's just too fucking tempting too.

How easily such a large, overbearing and domineering man, can be subdued to a mewling, near-begging mess just by the soft movement of your hips.

"Baby, please -"

Reaching down between your bodies, Aemond outright moans when you palm his erection through his jeans, sitting against his thigh quite obviously. You tease your hand from the base to the tip, squeezing through the denim, seeing the way Aemond almost knits his brows together in barely-contained pleasure.

And any time he tries to reach up, to kiss you properly, you pull back, allowing him to chase you.

"Oh, fuck you-"

You yelp in surprise as Aemond lifts you, keeping your legs around his waist as he pushes his bedroom door open and dropping you onto his mattress. And before you even have a moment to sit up on your elbows, he's on you, kneeing your legs apart and caging you to the bed with his body.

"Can't fucking wait any longer - need you, baby-"

Fuck, even the way he says that has arousal pooling between your legs, the desire to push your thighs together strong, but weakened with Aemond's body keeping them apart.

He's so fast and rough, the way he unbuttons your jeans and pulls the denim down your legs, taking your underwear with it, that you feel for a moment he may have torn something.

He practically fucking growls when he he looks between you, his thumb teasing your clit, finally able to look upon you the way he's wanted to for months.

"Already soaked for me, aren't you?" He coos lowly, teasing your bud in sure, confident circles, before swatting your heat firmly with a wet smack, "such a good fucking slut for me".

You mewl, pressing your lips together, a flush enveloping your face at his words. It's been so long since you were intimate with him, it will take a few moments to get used to it again and fall into that rhythm.

That, and you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the realisation you've not shaved your legs, genuinely not having expected to see him today.

It doesn't seem like Aemond cares.

With a fist over the collar of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, showing his lean and well-muscled torso lit with a warm amber glow from the bedside lamp.

You jolt in surprise as his fingers pull you by your thighs further down the bed, a gasp flying past your lips as his tongue and teeth nip and kiss at the inside of them. The sensation bordering on pain and pleasure at the same time.

"You don't know how long I've waited to taste your sweet pussy, princess"

You have an idea, by the way Aemond mouths at the crease between your thigh and hip. But you don't say it out loud. The anticipation of his mouth so, so close without touching you where you need him most is agonising.

" - fuck - Aemond -"

Your back nearly arches off the bed as he flattens his tongue against your warmth, swirling around your clit first before diving into your folds to feast on you, his fingers digging into your flesh for leverage. The feeling of his grip into your flesh burns pleasantly as he tugs you towards him, your lips parting with hurried pants tumbling out.

Your legs tremble as his low moan vibrates through your core, electricity creeping up your spine as he laps at you with vigour, his sharp nose nudging at your clit as he moves side to side to eventually fuck you with his tongue.

For a split second, you worry if he can actually breathe.

But as your embarrassingly quick orgasm starts barrelling towards you without warning, it somehow gets pushed to the back of your mind, you reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, chanting his name as if it’s all you can say as he groans against your cunt.

His hands hold you down by your thighs, tugging you back to his mouth in soft micro-movements as you shake against him, head thrown back against the pillows with your breath hot in your chest, unable to catch it well enough to form any other sound than moaning unabashedly.

Aemond outright moans as you cum against his tongue, the lewd sound of him licking up everything that comes out makes a heat creep up your neck. But you can’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he makes you feel like this.

You can feel the moisture on his face when he takes mercy, drawing his lips away to kiss and nip at the inside of your thighs again, giving one firm bite before he pulls away with a smirk on his face, no doubt happy at the mark he’s left behind.

Your eyes feel heavy as you lift your gaze to him, now perched on his knees as he pops the buttons of his jeans off, the veins on the back of his hand straining, making you feel somewhat lightheaded.

“ - can’t wait to fuck you again - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted be buried inside that pretty little pussy -”

You lick your lips as your mouth goes dry. He always manages to do that. Somehow turn you into a limp, mewling mess in no time at all.

Something you have in common, clearly.

With your heart beating erratically, body throbbing in the afterglow of your orgasm, that feeling is enhanced still when Aemond tugs at his length needily, his shoulders rising and falling with the desire to just stuff himself inside you as deep as he will go.

You can only watch in awe as his fingers wrap around himself, the tip ruddy and desperate, with arousal coating it with every slow and calculated fist. His stomach muscles clench and unclench uncontrollably, his chest muscles moving steadily with each deep breath.

It feels exciting, how utterly small you feel when he leans over you, once again grasping your legs to spread them before him. His long, thick fingers tease your slick folds, before he guides the fat head of his cock to your centre, watching with parted lips at the way your eyebrows furrow in both relief and pleasure as he stretches you around him slowly.

“ - ohfuck - ”, he moans lowly, sinking himself slowly into your warmth and basking in the closeness it offers, “ - fuck, baby, so tight for me -”

Being with him like this again is like sinking into a warm bath, with the rolls of steam batting at your face. And his words are so soft, they’re like dozens of little snowflakes settling on your face in a flurry. All cold and numb, and yet warm and fuzzy at the same time.

It’s completely instinctual, the way you turn your head, slightly embarrassed as Aemond holds either of your legs apart, his pelvis smacking against yours as he eases himself into a steady rhythm.

“ -aw, don’t tell me you’ve gone all shy on me -” he mocks, his eye glimmering with mischief as he looks down at you, “-where’s the needy, little slut I used to know, hm? -”

You gasp as Aemond pushes both hands down, pressing both of your legs towards your shoulders, bending at the knee so that he can kneel higher, using the new position with gravity to fuck down into you faster and rougher.

The new position has you pretzeled before him, completely unable to do anything but throw your head back against the pillows and turn bright red at the wanton, breathy moans that slip out.

“ -Aemond -”

“ - what’s wrong, baby? -” he coos, “ -is this too much for you? Hm? I know you’re more flexible than this -”

Fuck.

Each rough push of his length into you from this angle has the curved head of his cock brush against your sweet spot with devastating precision. With every thrust, the air seems to expel forcefully from your lungs, not helped in part by the fact that Aemond has your legs pressed hard against your ribs.

All you’re able to see through bleary eyes is the way he smirks down at you with his hair stuck to his tacky face, his chest heaving with hurried breath, and every now and then, his neck muscles straining as he tips his head back and groans loudly as you inadvertently squeeze his length when he bullies the end of you.

The air is charged, hot and humid. And you barely register the fact that music is still playing in another room, and that the curtains are pulled back. Though there’s no chance of anyone being able to see you both from how high his apartment is, it still makes your insides tighten that it’s happening so unabashedly with the city right below you.

His hand drifts down your thigh, watching as you squirm beneath him as he presses hard on your stomach, your eyes closing tightly at the feeling of him closing you around his length as it pistons roughly into you. He smiles slightly, almost as if he can feel how deep he reaches inside you.

“ -Oh fuck, baby - can fucking feel you gripping me -” he moans helplessly, leaning over, the sweat on his forehead slightly illuminated by the warm lamp’s light, “-does my girl like being a dirty little slut?”

You barely even register he’s speaking, everything sounding utterly muffled and just too much all at once. His low voice only serves to make that coil wind tighter in your gut, reacting to the way he never lets up his pace once.

You jolt slightly when he taps your cheek twice, a little rougher than you’d anticipated.

“ -I’m fucking talking to you -” he growls, moving his hand from your stomach up to bunch the shirt in his fist, exposing your pebbled nipples to the warmth of the room.

You nod helplessly, “Yes - yes -”

It’s all mindless babbling, and Aemond knows it as he grins, his eye flitting down to watch the way your breasts bounce as he fucks you.

“ -please, Aemond -”

“ -please what, hm? You want to cum, is that it? But you’re too fucked stupid to say it?”

As much as you hate to admit it, his words send a bolt of humiliation through you that does nothing but excite you, your core throbbing around his length with every calculated word he says.

"Aw, poor thing -" he jeers, "- I'm going to have fun with you-"

Wait what?

This isn't said 'fun'?

Oh shit.

Before that familiar coil can wind itself any tighter, Aemond pulls back, grunting as he manhandles your hips to turn you over and his palm cracking against your backside, smirking in victory at the mewl it gets out of you.

The skin there blooms with warmth, more so as Aemond’s tantalisingly hot skin presses against it once more, your lips parting in what can only described as a relieved moan as he slides into you again, his cockhead hitting the spongey end, filling you utterly.

"-Aemo-"

Smack.

"Not my fucking name, Princess. C'mon, you can do it" he purred, pressing his hand against your back, pushing against your spine and forcing your face against the sheets.

A choked moan almost slips out, with him tugging your hips up to him in such a curved position, his cockhead bullies your sweet spot, dragging his length along your sensitive walls, propelling you to an overwhelming orgasm.

"Go on - beg me for it or I won't let you cum-"

The idea of him denying you yet again when you were so close last time just seems utterly unbearable. So despite the humiliation rocking through your core with each harsh smack of his hips, despite the overwhelming heat of the room and most of all, despite your pride.

You do.

"Please - daddy - need it-"

If you could see him, you'd hate it.

Because he grins. Ear to fucking ear like he's wanted to hear it for months.

"Aren't you gonna beg me for permission to touch yourself?"

You suck in a breath, squealing muffled against the sheets as he gives another hard thrust. Clearly, despite appearances, on the verge himself.

"-can I - can I touch myself - please, daddy -"

"-fuck- baby, touch that little clit for me, yeah? - want to feel you cum-"

His voice is strained, pushing you with each thrust further and further against the sheets, your arms near giving out with the weight of him on you. With difficulty, your hand snakes between you and the mattress that constantly dips with how rough Aemond is being, and finds your bud, running the slickness that has collected over it, tying up your pleasure into two feelings.

Aemond’s lips part, staggered breaths the only thing coming out, as he feels your walls flutter around him, looking down at the way your bodies meet with a soft smack every time. You feel so warm and tight, gods he’s wanted to cum since since you started touching him through his jeans.

But now, pulling you by your hips to spear you onto his cock, he’s so so close.

Just wants to feel you first.

“-baby, you’re doing so well for me-” he breathes quickly, his gaze flitting briefly from where he’s pistoning in and out of you, to your sweat slick face, pressed against the sheets, biting your lips harshly as you pleasure yourself in tandem with Aemond’s movements.

As his hand slid down past your hips, his thumb tracing the bottom of your spine, you suck in a harsh breath when he softly grazes over your puckered hole, still fucking shallowly as if to tease you and him into teetering on the edge of a climax.

You're barely able to see behind you, pressed so hard into the sheets, but he looks good fucking you. His chest shines with perspiration, the chain dangling around his neck teasingly, and his abdominal muscles clenching and unclenching with restraint.

And then you see him smile.

"-oh? We've never done this before have we, princess?-"

Oh shit.

After all the exertion of your passion so far, your slick has easily made its way onto your thighs, so Aemond doesn't have to move much to drag some of it on his thumb and circle your hole with light, delicate motions, moistening the area.

Humiliation creeps up onto your face, eyes slipping shut. No guy before has ever really tried to do this. So this is uncharted territory. But despite the brief embarrassment, you have to admit that the feeling of Aemond ever so slightly pressing his thumb against you as he continues to thrust brutally into your cunt just feels new in the most amazing way.

His other hand still grabs the flesh of your ass, tugging you back to his cock in a frantic rhythm. The mewls coming out your mouth now sounding so unlike your own.

Aemond knows by the way your hips move up to meet his touch that you like it, but are too embarrassed to say.

"-how about it, hm? - you want me in both your pretty little fuckholes? -"

"-yes - yes, please daddy, I-"

Making sure his thumb is slick enough, your puckered hole also, he slides in slowly, using the palm of his hand to grasp whatever of your ass cheeks as he can.

You almost hear his choked moan.

"-fuck-, you're so tight here, princess - you gonna let me fuck it one day, hm? - you'd be so fucking good here-"

The batting of his cock against your upper walls has you very nearly sobbing outwardly, combined with the feeling of him in such a new place, pressing in, you'd forgotten you'd stopped pleasuring yourself. Completely embroiled in this feeling.

He chuckles darkly, crooking the digit ever so slightly, leaning over to press against your back "-you'd fucking let me as well, wouldn't you? -"

The curling of his other fingers on the flesh of your backside has him smiling at the sounds it emits from you.

“-did I say stop, hm? Keep touching yourself - cum for me-”

You know that as soon as you do it’s all over.

His voice, combined with all three feelings at once, tugging at that pleasurable spot inside you that has white, hot pleasure soaring through your bloodstream, has a long, choked moan filling the space between you. And you’re surprised to hear that the same sound slips past Aemond’s lips as well, the air of his breath batting against your neck as he tries to bury himself as deep inside you as he possibly can.

You’re trying to suck in breath without really realising it, the earth-shattering orgasm making your body go all rigid for a moment before you relax against the sheets, with the pleasant weight of him above you.

Everything feels warm. His bedroom right now feeling like a large blanket has enveloped you both. It seems a weird thing to think in the moment, with Aemond’s half naked body hunched over you, his cock twitching and pulsing, whimpering as he is still emptying himself inside of you and feeling the aftershocks through your fleshy walls.

All his micro-movements seem overly-sensitive. And when Aemond exhales, lifting himself off your back, lifting your lids to open your eyes feels like the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

“-sorry-” he whispers cautiously as he pulls his softening cock from you, immediately feeling the warm rush of cum coating your inner thighs.

Warmth blossoms once again to your cheeks as he stays still, and you think he must be staring at the way he leaks from you, sighing in a sort of perverted admiration.

You don’t even have time to open your mouth before his thumb slips out your other hole, only to jolt in shock once it’s immediately replaced by his tongue. All those dulled out endorphins that were dissipating into your limbs feel like they all gather back, and you squeeze your thighs together, fisting the bedsheets so tightly they could’ve torn.

Both of his hands seem to find their home on each asscheek, spreading them so he can easily swirl his talented wet, muscle around your hole, fucking moaning as he does it. All your nerves ring semi-uncomfortably, overstimulation nipping at the edges of the pleasure.

“-fuck, Aemond, no no, please-” you plead, emitting a weary, exhausted laugh when he chuckles and pulls away, landing one softened smack against the flesh.

“-Mm- another time-”

Lethargy pulls at your body as you lay on your front, blinking slowly as you feel the mattress rise, pressing your lips together as Aemond disappears into the en-suite, tucking himself back into his jeans.

A moment later, he comes back with a warm washcloth, offering to clean you up. But you simply smile, pushing yourself to sit up, “I’m good”, you smile, with a flushed face, feeling slightly bashful after what you’d just done together.

One long shower together later, you lay in his bed, looking out at the city beneath, the cascade of brightly coloured lights littering the dark space between buildings. Aemond’s shirt easily reaches to your thighs, with nothing beneath, not having anticipated staying over anywhere today.

Aemond sighs calmly, his chin on the top of your head, pressed against your back, with one of his hands running through the tresses of your hair, every now and then stroking at your scalp, which has your eyes slipping shut at the pleasant feeling.

“Well, princess? Do you like it?” he asks, his voice all soft and tired.

You meet his lilac gaze, tilting your head slightly in question.

“The apartment”.

“It’s perfect”, you smile, reaching up his cheek and running the back of your fingers over it, the scar tissue feeling slightly different in texture over your skin, “you sure you want me to move in?”

He blinks slowly, a smile rising to his lips, his hand coming to yours and pressing a soft, tender kiss to your wrist. And though not directly sexual, it makes your belly do little backflips, feeling so intimate and captivating that warmth floods your skin through his lips.

“Of course, princess. I can't do this without you”.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

[awellposhmagazine]

a 10pm thought re: oral between friends

thinking about fucking around in the studio with the guys & making an offhand comment re: bringing back the blowjob lyrics & george hitting u back with can't do that cos healy's not getting them anymore. & matty just tells u guys to fuck off as usual but it sticks with u and u start scheming. 

it comes up again a week later on the floor of his living room, with you stretched out on his concrete floor flipping through one of his wanky coffee table books. he’s settled on the couch just above you, watching you laze about at his feet like a housecat in the sun. 

“y’ look nice down there.”

he means it innocently enough, but it’s the perfect opportunity to push him around a little.

“yeah? giving you some inspo for that new blowie song?”

he rolls his eyes hard, reaching out a socked foot to nudge you teasingly on the shoulder.“yeah haha very funny matty in his incel era.”

and maybe its the warmth of the sun making you delirious, or just the overwhelming domesticity of the moment, but the words leave your mouth before you can even think to stop them.

“'m being serious. i’d get you off, if you wanted.”

matty almost chokes to death on his own spit.

“don’t fuck me about.”

you might as well have socked him in the jaw for the look on his face. his mouth has fallen slack, just slightly, and his expression reads as vaguely pained. 

the silence between you carries on for a little longer, and you can see him disappearing further and further into his own head. its in moments like these that you realise perhaps he’s more of a sap than you’d thought. public image matty necks tequila and takes his coffee black, but yours would prefer a malbec and a cappuccino with two and a half sugars. public image matty gets off with groupies and regularly toes the line of public indecency, but yours is looking at you like he might keel over and die at the prospect of a blowjob. you’d been half joking really, but the intensity of his reaction has shelved any plans you'd been harboring to tease.

“‘i’m not,” you shake your head resolutely, suddenly developing a stomach ache at the consequences of your own actions. “i’d never.” despite attempting to maintain a flirty tone, you have to swallow down a lump in your throat the size of the texas.

“kiss me first?”

“huh?” your reply comes out as more of a breath than coherent speech.

“if we’re gonna do this, 'wanna kiss you first. will you do that for me?”

you're not sure what he's playing at, really. you're more than happy to oblige, of course; you'd dreamt of kissing matty loads of times. admittedly never as precursor to casual oral, but you'd take what you could get. you'll chalk it up to being another facet of his sentimental nature. that, or he just needs a minute to work himself up before you get him undressed.

either way, you huff and scramble up to meet his request only to be stopped by a gentle hand on your cheek. his hands are so big, so warm, and you can’t help but nuzzle further into his touch. you're playing all the right cards and he and he still doesn’t kiss you, just lets his eyes linger on your embarrassed face and presses a bruising thumb to your bottom lip. 

“fuck, matty - please.” he’s just teasing you now, he has to be. it's making you itchy.

“please what, darlin’?”

“thought you wanted a kiss. you’re being cruel.”

“don’t like me mean?”

“dirty, maybe. not mean.”

“jesus christ. alright, ok.”

he surges forward then, eyes squeezing shut in a uniquely sexy breed of anguish. if he weren't already holding you steady, the force of the kiss might’ve knocked you on your ass. his lips smear against yours messily; movements punctuated with gentle, bubbly gasps. it's hot and messy and charged with desperation - which reminds you abruptly of the task at hand.

he grunts when you draw back, but his disappointment is short-lived. 

“can i suck you off now?”

matty thinks he might actually die.

when you slide down and start messing with the zipper of his jeans, hes certain.

from the minute you get your mouth on him, matty’s floundering like he doesn't quite know where to put his hands; where he’s allowed to. he’s writhing around against the couch cushions, hands balled into tight fists atop his thighs. to your great satisfaction, he can't seem to look at you for longer than about five seconds at a time. every attempt only results in a littany of curses and his eyes flying to the ceiling instead. you figure he's trying to hold off on his orgasm, but you're greedy; you want him to look at you.

you intend it as a bit of a power move when you reach for his hand and bury it into your hair, but it backfires completely when he gives it a tug and you moan all slutty around the length of him. you’d been doing so well keeping your sounds to a minimum, but the dull ache sends a shock of pleasure up your spine. 

something about the action must’ve done it for matty too, because not a second later he’s spilling down your throat with garbled incoherence and choked groans. ‘fuck, ’m coming, fuck -”

you ride it out with your mouth flush to the hilt of him, eyes closed with concentration in committing the sounds of his climax to memory.

finally, his eyes drop down and burn right through you as pull off him and place a chaste kiss to his inner thigh.

“up,” he chokes out, bordering on frantic; “up - come here.”

you comply happily, dopey with pride at having caused the fucked out look on his face. he manhandles you easily despite his exhaustion, slotting you comfortably atop his thighs and squeezing your waist.

he looks lovely like this; lips bitten raw and sweat beading at his hairline. you want to eat him whole. 

it’s different when you kiss him for a second time, after the dust of his manic lust has settled. its quaint almost; clumsy and a bit unsure. like this is perhaps more intimate than any moment preceding it. every second movement of his lips is punctuated with weak, breathless thank yous.  his lips are still parted slightly when you pull back, as though you’ve cut him off early from his ministrations. your heart flutters wildly in your chest. 

“fuck, stop looking at me like that. you’re mental.”

he sounds pained again. you muffle laughter and continue toying with his fingers where your hands are gently intertwined.  “like what?”

“all sweet and that like you didn’t just have my cock down your throat.” 

“i think that was very sweet of me.’

“fuckin’ more than. gonna write a whole blowjob album now, honest.”

“can i do it again? later, i mean?”

for the third time today, matty's soul nearly vacates his body and ascends to the heavens.

"'f i ever turn you down for that, please smack me 'round the mouth."

you giggle breathlessly, and matty gives you disbelieving sort of smile and lets his forehead fall slack against your shoulder. it's only now in the afterglow of your determination to get him off that you settle into the discomfort of your own arousal. he's gone all warm and sleepy beneath you, tracing circles on the bare skin of your knee, and you suddenly feel like you might burst into tears. "sorry, uh- i gotta pee."

a flicker of panic flashes across matty's face, and you can tell hes back in that worried, overthinking place in his brain. that is, until he takes in the heaving of your chest and the way you can't quite keep your legs still.

"oh, lovely girl. need me to take care of you now too, 's that it?"

arguably nobody had ever needed anything more. you’ve soaked through since he’d first kissed you; itchy and sweating through your clothes. 

“please, matty.”

the desperation in your voice seems to knock the energy back into him tenfold. it’s forceful but never rough when he maneuvers you onto the couch beside him and drops to the floor. "i've got you, darlin'", he admonishes, hiking your skirt up past your thighs.

“tell me if i do anything you don’t like, yeah?”

you find it hard to imagine he’d be capable. you nod anyways. “yeah, yes - okay.”

promoted to his knees, matty edges between your legs and drapes an arm across your hips. the implication hits you like a train; you won’t be able to hold still. 

fuck.

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part two: editing

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 1,735 words Genre: 18+, mdni, remainder to not use fanfics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Yoongi is just helping a friend help you, but is he even supposed to listen to this?. Part 2 of Reveal: recording. Read it for context. This is just why and how we got to that ending. More warnings under read more.

Includes: Mentions of selling sex content. People recording sex acts. Mentions of sexual activity ( doing things and also talking about doing things and thinking about doing more things ). Mentions of past and not past masturbation ( f and m ).  Dirty talk? I guess?. Sprinkle of possessive yoongi? Is not my fault i sweaaaar Author's note: Remember when I started writing something short and silly lmao, what a time. Btw, I have never used OF so if something I say about how they use the website is actually not true / completely wrong just pretend please lmao. Anyway, I thought it'd be fun to write Yoongi's side, hope you like it! If you do please remember to leave a comment, reblog, ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

Saturday is probably Yoongi's favorite day of the week. No waking up early, no work, and not worrying about having to do any of those the next day.

That's why he groans when his phone rings with messages from Jungkook. He knows is him because he is the only one who still insists on sending him a million messages instead of just one. 

Love the guy, but he can be annoying.

The fifth ring comes and hopping is the last one, Yoongi finally reaches for his phone and rolls to his back. 

JK: hey JK: are you awake? JK: and free today? JK: i need a favor JK: yoongi?

Yoongi: with what? If I have to leave my house is probably a no.

Both of them know that actually, even if it ruined his plans of relaxing, he would say yes. Because that's what friends do.

JK: no no. You can do it at your house  JK: I need to edit an audio for my friend JK: but I'm on the schedule today JK: and if I don't send it back quickly she will back out JK: please? 

Yoongi: ok. Send it to me. Yoongi: you own me, tho.

Throwing his phone on the bed, he gets out of it to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, getting ready to sit in his studio for at least an hour. He knows is probably a bit extra to use his expensive equipment for whatever this favor is, but if he is going to help, he is going to do it right.

Opening Jungkook's messages on his laptop, Yoongi almost wants to laugh at himself.

JK: [ killmepls.mp3 ] JK: is and OF thing, btw JK: don't listen to it in public lol

Yep, definitely Poducer Min equipment is too extra for this. But, fuck it.

The archive is already downloaded when he opens the software, starting a new project and naming it the same as the audio plus final, to not get confused. Plugging in his headphones he starts playing it, already noticing whoever this is, is pretty quiet at the beginning and he would most likely have to cut it off, still, he listens to make sure.

A few taps followed by a “hi..” is the start, and he chuckles at their giggles.

He decides to let that in, but cuts the next few seconds where only their breathing can be heard along with some clicking and fabric moving. Is too long of a pause for this kind of thing and the clicking gives a way they weren't ready to start. Sure they wouldn't mind.

They put music on? It sounds familiar but is pretty fade out, so he can't really be sure, and then “This angle is kinda…” 

That's him.

That's his voice.

“Hot,” the voice continues before he can rewind.

“You can't tell me I'm mean anymore. I'm spoiling you,” his own voice travels again on his headphones. “I'm giving you this view and I'm giving you what's probably the thing you all ask the most: hands.”

What is this? Some kind of joke?

Did Jungkook put them up to this?

“I hate him. I'm gonna sue him,” 

That gets a laugh from him, even if he is still confused about what is happening.

Maybe it's just his imagination?

Should he ask his friend?

More movement of fabric. Maybe bed sheets or clothes. More breathing, a bit faster than last time and then, a groan. 

He can leave that in.

Wait, that's right. He is supposed to be editing this. He has to go back and…

“This angle is kinda…” his voice says and he hits pause. Is really him. Is that possible?

He feels like he is imagining things.

“Jungkook, I swear if this is some kind of joke or something,” he rambles taking his phone out.

Yoongi: did you listen to it?

JK: no, didn't have time JK: why? something wrong? JK: don't tell me it can't be used JK: she is gonna be sad :(

Yoongi: who is she?

JK: dunno if i can tell you 

Yoongi: technically I'm doing a favor for her. I think is fair 

JK: good point JK: is afterhours(y/n)

He opens a new tap on his laptop, goes to the website and searches for the username through his followers. And sure enough there it is. Subscribed a month ago.

He clicks to see your perfil. The first post he can see without being subscribed is a picture of a lilac lingerie set on a bed with the caption “very early birthday present”, from a week ago. 

He considers subscribing to see more, but he stops himself from clicking, remembering Jungkook didn't even want to tell him who you were. Oh, shit. What would you do if you knew it was him editing your audio? Would you back out? Or be sad?

Now it feels kind of wrong, like if he were invading your privacy.

He clicks around on his computer again, audio track back to the zero seconds mark. He hears the “hi” and the giggles and stops it before his voice appears. 

“Okay, this is going to be posted. It was recorded with the intention of being posted for people to hear,” he reasons. “If it's not posted I'd just forget about it and if it is… I'd… subscribe? To make up for listening?”

Clearly that part is not completely made up on his mind, but he doesn't have to decide what to do right now, he has to finish editing. And so, Yoongi clicks around the software again, cutting and deleting another section, the one where you can hear his voice and even his music before.

That's it. It was a familiar track because it is his. He composed that himself to put in the background of his videos exclusively. He figured putting his own touch would help if something was posted outside his page, never imagining hearing it in the background of someone else's video or audio was even possible.

It shouldn't affect him this much. After all, people touching themselves to his videos is half the reason he likes making them. What can he say? Is a turn on to have that effect on others, it builds his confidence up.

But actually hearing it is different. 

Groan and fabric moving, a bit too close to the mic he considers doing something about it, but “I want you to touch me,” is the perfect whisper. Just the right volume, just the right words.

No more audio of SugaD can be heard now, you probably turn down the volume of the video or pause it. Yoongi is curious about it. The idea of your sounds being a reaction to his past self is doing things to him, and Yoongi would like to ignore them before getting too distracted, but is kind of a boomer not knowing exactly what your reactions are for.

Maybe he can open his video, it wouldn't be hard for him to synchronized it with your audio and—

No.

That would cross the line. Is enough that he—

“Are you hard?” your voice continues, timidly he thinks. 

Is this your first time doing this? That's why you couldn't edit yourself?

What would you do if you knew he was listening and his dick was calling for attention at all your little sounds?

He stops your recording, considers taking a break, going back to bed. But he knows just forgetting about this would be hard and in the end he would have to come back and finish helping.

He unpaused it.

More moans echo throughout his headphones and he fixes them on top of his head, as if that would help him concentrate. You just sound so pretty, and when you plead he wants to give you anything you ask for, his dick twitching with desire.

He could just— no. That'll be wrong. Is enough he is letting it affect him this much, he can't just—

His leg bounces under his desk, hand glue to his mouse even when he is just listening now. Only stopping and going back a couple times to fix the volume of background noise, making it less or more obvious depending on the flow or your moans.

A groan of his own cuts the silence in his studio when you form words again. “It feels so good, oh god.” And Yoongi wishes he knew what. Wishes he could see you, could touch you. Could make you sound and feel that good in person.

“Uh uh,” short moans leave your lips, and it sounds so much like you're agreeing with his thoughts he really considers sneaking a hand down his pants. Allow his mind to wander and imagine what you would look like under him. Or on top. Or just coming undone by him.

But he doesn't. He just listens to your recording, your breathing, your pleas and your cut out warning when you cum.

“Fucking hell,” Yoongi angrily whispers. And for a second he considers doing the SugaD special of cutting it out of the final audio, but that's too selfish.

Or perhaps is more selfish leaving it. Considering he wants the world to hear how you sound when listening to him.

Yoongi managed to leave the studio without touching himself. But is not really as impressive as it sounds since his hand is on his dick the minute he goes back to bed after listening to the final edit of your audio one last time. The excuse of being just to make sure is perfect is just that, an excuse. And your pretty sounds replay on his head while he jerks off until orgasm.

JK: thank youuuu JK: she says thank you too!

Does that mean you know he was the one editing it?

He opens the app on his phone, looks for your perfil again and debates a couple minutes his options. 

What's the worst that can happen? You blocking him? He would understand, but if he actually doesn't do anything, doesn't play his chance, he wouldn't forgive himself.

And so, he subscribes. Page refreshes instantly and a new post greets him.

[ afterhours(y/n):

Surprise, surprise. Is my birthday month but I keep spoiling you, ain't I the best? 😝 

      [ VoiceReveal.mp3 ]

                                                                         ]

Doesn't even have to listen to it, his fingers move on their own, “the cutest”, he comments.

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri ,

( is hereee! I appreciate u guys hehe <3 ) ( if anyone else wants to be tagged in the future, let me know )

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part three. | ➪ Updates for this verse

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ruggie, Trey: More and More

TWST once again picks the most INCRIMINATING villain shots to display in the picture frames 😭 I am BEGGING the museum curator to do better/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

A lion cub, a warthog, and a meerkat.

It was an odd trio, a group of animals that, under normal circumstances, would never be together. Certainly not like this—not grinning, snuggling up with each other. Carnivore, herbivore, omnivore. Sharing the lives they had, joined in heart and in song.

No worries for the rest of their days.

Ruggie snickered behind one hand. Man, ain't that the dream?

"They've got nice smiles."

The hyena's ears perked. His eyes shifted to a Heartslabyul student gazing upon the same painting. Tall, built well, in glasses.

"Come again?"

"Their teeth," Trey clarified, pointing. "You see? They have different shapes based on their diet. Warthogs mainly eat vegetables, so they have strong, flat molars for crushing plants. But lions are carnivores, so their teeth are sharper for slicing through meat. And meerkats--"

"Okay, I get it already! Now quit it, you sound almost as creepy as Rook." Ruggie groaned. "Can't believe you take one look at this and your first thought is what's in their mouths."

"You don't?" The joke fell flat, and Trey let it go "How about you? What's your first thought when you look at this? If I'm remembering correctly, this painting is based on a story from your country. Does it have significance to you?"

"Eh, it’s some story about a warthog and a meerkat coming together to raise a lost cub they found."

"Really." Trey's eyebrows raised. "How did they manage to feed a baby lion? They probably need a lot of protein, and I don't think a warthog and a meerkat could hunt enough for it."

"Nah, they figured something out." He pinched his thumb and index finger together, peering through the small gap between them and right at the vice dorm leader. "Bugs."

"Bugs?!" Trey startled.

"Yup, there's plenty of 'm and they're packed full of protein for a growing young prince.”

“Prince?”

“Did I not mention it before? Turns out that the lion cub was a missing prince, and they had no idea. When the prince was all grown up, he returned to claim his kingdom with the warthog and the meerkat. The animals were able to get over their differences and live together in harmony. It all started with bugs—that’s pretty resourceful, isn’t it?”

"I didn’t think there would be a twist that wild from a story that started with eating bugs. We sometimes eat flowers in the Queendom, but usually as a garnish or for a snack, not for a whole meal. Is it a cultural difference...?"

Ruggie shrugged. "Sometimes you don't have much of a choice in what you eat. If life hands you lemons when you're starving, are you going to turn it down? 'Course not."

I can't afford that kind of luxury.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Trey gave a light laugh. "You're going to make me hungry too."

"I'd kill for a big roast pork right about now. Fat, sweet, and juicy, the meat so tender if falls off the bone once ya sink your teeth into it..." Ruggie drooled at the thought. "Yeah, if you just shoved an apple into the warthog's mouth, glaze it with honey, and slow cook it over a fire, I bet it'd be real tasty."

"It sounds like you’ve always got food on your mind.” Trey folded his arms, lips tugging back into a lopsided smirk. “Kinda gruesome when you talk about the prep work like that though.”

“We wouldn’t have any food if we didn’t hunt and gather. ‘S how the circle of life works.”

His gaze slanted toward the painting of the happy trio. A unification, food shared from the same platter—it sparked some desperate hope in him.

A world where kings and hyenas can be friends… Heh, maybe I’m asking for too much.

But he was greedy like that. Seeking more and more, his hunger never fully satisfied.

Ruggie shook his head, letting dirty blonde locks fall across his face. “Maybe it’s news to you, but beastmen don’t exactly see eye to eye with other beastmen. That’s why it’s practically a miracle that those three get along. It’s a tale they tell us in the Sunset Savanna to remind us of what we could be, united under one true kingdom. It’s just that: a story.”

“It’s a nice story,” Trey said simply. “And it would be even nicer if it came true.”

It would.

“It’ll be a looong time before that happens. It’s about as real as my dreams of a roast pork dinner.”

Ruggie sighed as he drew his arms up, hands resting behind his head. He reclined back in that lazy, devil-may-care pose.

Trey watched him, his mustard yellow eyes shifting slightly. “… Are you baiting me to offer to make you some?”

“What?” The hyena feigned shock. “Me, trying to get my hands on free grub? Nooooo, I’d never!”

Trey stared at him indignantly. “You’re not being very subtle there…”

Ruggie showed his teeth. “Was I supposed to be?”

“Maybe you’d have better luck getting a formal invite from Riddle first. I don’t usually prepare whole hams for a single guest either—it’s usually a group meal, so you’d have to share.”

“Tch. Whatever, can’t blame a hyena for testing out a shortcut, can you?”

“Ahahah… I’m slightly concerned that you’d even attempt to have an entire pig to yourself. Your appetite must be legendary.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

More and more—he wanted it all. Gluttony, a sin to the common man. To him, a desire for something greater than this.

He saw it now, a kingdom built upon the jagged cliffs. His kind and other scorned creatures. creeping out from the darkness and into the moonlight. They all looked to the one that stood far above them, the one that would lead them to that shining future.

Someday, it will come.

Ruggie spun, his back presented to the painting. A spotlight upon the trio, and the shadows closing in on his own face.

Even so, his smile was as big and as bright as ever.

“Nishishishishi! Don’t worry so much, Trey-kun~ Just be happy—hakuna matata!”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Why Not 🔞

In which Jungkook has you figured out. Dirty humor, mean and bratty- you're pretty much simply a bitch. So why are you crying over some scraped up knees and a dirty plushy?

Tags/Warnings: non-Idol AU, enemies to lovers, reader acts like she could kill but is actually a cinnamon roll, Jungkook just simply is a cinnamon roll, adult themes, fluff, romance, short!reader go cry about it, smut but very low-carb (handjob, cum in pants oops), slight DDLG-aspects/themes? Soft daddy/dom vibes from kook?

Length: longer than JKs Dick career

Additional Content: How So (Part 2)

A/N: have to post it shortened bc the longer version breaks the app :) have some fluff comfort after all that angst psycho shit I posted.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

It's not like Jungkook hates you. He really, honestly, doesn't.

In fact, he admires how honest you are, in a way. You seem comfortable with yourself, which shows in a healthy amount of confidence, no thought wasted on what people might think of your outfit or makeup. You're very expressive and creative, and you always work out solutions whenever everyone else would suggest simply giving up.

You're just.. too bold for him. He's not really interested in most things you discuss- which is often something lewd- and he also doesn't really share any interests with you. You're a miss know-it-all, you get dramatic if you don't get your way, and you manipulate people around you to even out your road ahead. You make demeaning jokes about yourself and you always put yourself down in a comedic manner- and he just doesn't like that. Even so, he still never casts you out, or ignores you. It's odd, because whenever you have one on one interactions, he can't help but feel like you're not the same as with others around. Just like right now.

You're currently all eating at a sushi place - you're sitting across from him, cleavage dangerously exposed, but he's got no right to be offended by it. In a way, he admires the way you seem to be so comfortable. But he can't help but notice the way you keep adjusting your top all the time, tugging and pulling constantly.

If it's making you so fidgety, why wear it? It irritates him a bit. He'll never understand why most girls choose fashion over comfort.

Your best friend Namjoon had told him before that you're actually not like this at all. That you're a great friend, caring and gentle and actually very fragile, and even a little shy and quiet when no one's around - however, Jungkook believes that's just your best friend trying to make you look good. You're totally fine the way you are - you're just too much for him personally. There's nothing wrong with that.

Just because he might not enjoy your personality, doesn't mean you have to change it.

But he doesn't question it, continues to eat and listen in on conversations, laughing along jokes and funny stories. He likes the energy of this. It's unforced, comfortable, easy. He's just about to continue eating, when he notices the glance you throw at his plate, something you've done a couple of times now, seemingly thinking about something, before looking away again, engaging in the conversation as if to distract yourself. "Do you want a piece?" He asks you as soon as there's a good moment, a bit more quiet as to not interrupt the current topic being discussed at the table.

You look at him, wide-eyed just for a second, before you shake your head. "It's fine. I'll maybe try it next time, though." You tell him with a smile. "Does it taste good?" You wonder, and he can't help but be amused. How come you can make straight-up dick-jokes at the dinner table, but you can't accept his offered food that you clearly got your eyes on?

"I don't know if my taste is the same as yours." He shrugs, watching as you chew on the inside of your lip now. "Let's trade, if that makes you feel better." He offers instead, and at that, you visibly perk up, eagerly putting a piece of yours on his plate to receive his.

You're.. kind of cute like this. Oddly so.

He watches without staring too much as you eat his gifted piece of sushi, clearly enjoying the taste of it as you swing your legs under the table a little. "This is good." You comment, making him nod with a smile before you both pay attention to the conversation again.

He doesn't really think much about the whole interaction afterwards.

It's not like it's anything special.

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"Ah, fuck." Namjoon curses, looking at his phone. "God, fuck. Yoongi I'm so sorry, I forgot I was supposed to drive with Y/N to her doctor's appointment today." He apologizes, making Jungkook look up from his phone.

"Is it something bad?" Yoongi asks, genuinely a bit concerned as Namjoon just seems unsure.

"We don't know, just a routine thing."He replies. "But you never know. And she's a little anxious, too. I wouldn't want her taking the bus or anything alone in that state." He explains, and everyone seems to agree that that's not a good idea. You're well known to not possess the most basic orientation skills sometimes - and with your head all over the place like this, it could just end with you getting hurt.

"What if I drive her real quick?" Jungkook offers casually, looking up from his phone from where he sits on the small sofa in Yoongi's studio. "You both can continue working, and I didn't have anything to do anyways." He shrugs.

"You know what, great idea." Yoongi chimes up.

"I'll.. text her. See if she's okay with that." Namjoon offers with a little hesitance, making Jungkook wonder how serious this appointment really is. Did you have any health troubles you'd been hiding? He's always been told to never judge a book by its cover. Maybe you were just putting on a tough mask to cover up what you thought was weakness?

Jungkook doesn't believe in that. You've always been this way ever since he'd met you.

"She said she's fine with it." Namjoon sighs after a moment, making Jungkook lock his phone and get up. "Here, let me at least bring you down." Namjoon offers, walking out the studio and towards the underground garage where Jungkook has his car parked. "Listen- can you do me a favor?" He wonders, and Jungkook nods.

"Sure." He says, opening the driver's door to throw his wallet into the back together with his jacket. "What is it?"

"Listen, it's a.. gynecologists' appointment." Namjoon says, quietly so, while Jungkook just.. stares, unable to quite grasp on why his friend would say it in a way that makes it seem as if the word is something you can't ever say out loud. So you're going to a specialist. So what? "It's her first time there. She's honestly terrified, so, if you could maybe go in with her and sit in the waiting room? Just, to keep her mind off of things." Namjoon carefully says.

Again, Jungkook just shrugs, before nodding. "Sure, no issue." He says, getting into the car. "I'll text you when she's back home then. You go up and help Yoongi." He says, before putting his phone into the holder, maps app opened to find where you're waiting.

He's a bit confused inside the car. With the way you're always talking, he'd been sure you would've been a regular at those places. Not because he thought you were a whore, God no, but he just believed until now that you'd be someone who's open and casual with it.

So why are you terrified of a simple doctor's visit?

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"You uhm.. really don't have to." You mumble quietly next to him, anxiously playing with your hands in your lap. You've been quiet the entire time, not really talking at all, and especially not looking at him. He's a little worried about that, wondering if you're maybe in pain, or really unwell in general to the point of changing your personality like this. "I know this must be weird for you." You say quietly.

"Not really, no. I went to one of these with my mom once, so its fine." He shrugs next to you, trying to maybe soothe your nerves by showing you that he's not at all weirded out or uncomfortable. To be honest, he's a bit surprised- because right now, the girl sitting next to him, isn't at all the girl he'd thought he had figured out.

However, he also assumes you might just be heavily uncomfortable with your health, which could add to you just behaving like you do right now. "You feeling okay? Should I ask them how long it's gonna be?" He asks, and you just shake your head.

"No, I can wait." You just say, trying hard to appear unbothered now. "Guess I'm just not really looking forward to a fifty-plus year-old digging around where the light doesn't reach, you know?" You attempt to joke as always, but Jungkook can spot the fakeness of it.

"Joon said it's your first time." He says, locking his phone now before putting it away.

"Son of a bitch." You curse under your breath, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed and legs thrown forwards, heels hitting the floor. You look almost defensive now, as if he'd just insulted you. "Yeah, I didn't need to go until now." You shrug. "But my regular physician keeps bugging me to check some stuff out, and Joon has been bothering me about it too." You say. "Not like he's got anything to do with my vagina for that matter."

"Well, he worries." Jungkook shrugs next to you. "And if you've got health issues, you should always get them checked out for that matter. Could be nothing, could be something. I can understand him." He explains to you. "He cares a lot about you."

"hmhm." You affirm quietly, a bit distant now, staring at the tips of your shoes. "Joon has always been a really good friend." You say, and jungkook nods. Namjoon is the main connection between Jungkook and you- the older guy being somewhat of a brother to him, in a way. He really admired his friend a lot, for his achievements as well as his determination to always better himself. He can't deny that he never really quite understood your friendship with him- with you being so extremely different from him- but he never questioned either. "He's honest." You mumble out, and Jungkook has to agree.

"He is." Jungkook nods, though he feels like there's something more to it. He doesn't get to ask however, because your name is suddenly called- and you jump up, taking a deep breath. "Hey-" Jungkook asks, and you look down to where he sits, as he smiles encouragingly. "-You'll be fine." He promises, and you nod, before disappearing with the nurse into the examination room.

It doesn't take too long for you to emerge back out, a prescription written in front as he gets your coat and walks towards you to the counter. "If it gets any worse, just give us a call, alright?" The nurse asks, and you just quietly nod before you walk out with Jungkook trailing right behind you.

"Everything alright?" He asks, and you nod, though next to him in the car, you run your hands over your face.

"I don't ever wanna go there again." You groan, hands still hiding your face as Jungkook looks at you a bit concerned now.

"Did something happen?" He asks seriously, canceling his action of starting the car.

You take down your hands. "No. It was just.. weird." You say. "The questions were nasty. I don't know." You say quietly, and Jungkook can do nothing but start the car to drive you home. He wishes he could- but at the end of the day, this is something he can't and won't ever really understand fully. He hopes it's just the new experience freaking you out.

Parking in front of your apartment building, you really look a bit terrified now. No longer because of the appointment though- but because of the honestly world-ending rain hitting his car like it's trying to smash it flat into the concrete below. "Its really going hard outside now." Jungkook laughs, but you don't seem to be in a joking manner at all. "If you run you won't get wet."

"I don't want you to drive in this weather." You say meekly, barely able to be heard over the loud rain.

"I'll just wait until it's better." He waves off, looking at you drowned in the orange interior light of his car. You seem to think, before you turn to look at him, eyes reflecting the led lights all around like mirrors. You're really pretty, without all that makeup.

"You can come up? Just, it's cold, and if you leave the car running that's bad for the environment and you're also wasting gas-" you ramble, and he laughs, shutting down the car at that, before grabbing his keys.

"Alright." He shrugs. "If you're cool with that." He asks, and you nod after a moment. He chuckles a bit, before grabbing onto the door handle, still looking at you. "On three?" He asks, and your face lights up in playfulness.

"One?" You start, making him grin.

"Two.." he continues, making you smile as well, before you both pull on the handle.

"Three!"

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Your apartment is everything he did not expect.

"Sorry, it's a bit messy.." you say, taking off your shoes before you slip into the pink slippers close by. The coat hooks on the side of the entrance are cat shaped. The mat where the shoes are put is pink. And from what he can see, everything you have is bright, pastel colored, cute.

Almost innocently so.

You're right and wrong with it being messy, he notices as he walks into the apartment. It's small, but cozy- blankets and round plushies littering the couch close by, kitchen sink containing some dishes you didn't wash or didn't put away yet. It is a bit untidy, but not messy, in his eyes.

It just.. looks like his own apartment. Simply alive.

"Do you.. want tea?" You ask, quietly, and he nods as he walks closer to you in the open kitchen. "I.. have a lot of different flavors so.. just choose one you like." You explain, opening a cabinet that's basically all about tea. Different mugs, mostly animal designs, flower shaped coasters, sugar and many different brands and flavors of tea, boxes a bit unaligned. He pulls out a little baggy of the box that's the most empty, making you smile a bit shyly. "I like that one the most." You admit.

"I assumed. Might as well try it then." He shrugs casually, letting you boil the water while he looks around from his spot. "Your apartment is really nice." He comments.

"Thank you." You answer quietly, pouring the water into the two mugs. "Namjoon sometimes sleeps over because, according to him, my pull-out couch is more comfy than his own bed." You joke, and Jungkook laughs.

"That sounds like him." He nods, accepting the mug before you both walk towards said couch. "Granted, he sleeps on a mattress on the floor though." He tells you.

You laugh. "He's way too much of a cheapskate to buy a bedframe." You shake your head. "He could just buy it and pay it off monthly." You say.

"He could. But I guess we'll never know why he refuses to buy one." Jungkook answers, watching as you toe off your slippers to get more comfortable on the couch next to him- before you put the mug back on the small table, jumping up towards the windows, opening them. "Its still raining heavy." He says, and you nod, turning off the lights, streetlights of the city illuminating the room enough to still see, as you walk back on the couch, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. "What're you doing?" He chuckles when you put one over his shoulders as well.

"I like listening to the rain. And it smells nice." You say, wind blowing into the apartment. "And airing out is important too." You tell him, leaning your head against the backrest of the couch. He nods.

This is nice.

He'd never really thought of those aspects of rain, has always just seen it as bad. It's already slowly stopping to rain so hard, now just a soft mist, but you're right. It smells nice, not like the usual faint city smog, but clean, and fresh. The air might be cold, icy on the tip of his nose, but its also refreshing, calming.

"This is nice." He comments before he turns, noticing a bit of weight on his back. You're asleep, resting against his back, and he uses this moment to look at you a bit.

Maybe Namjoon had been right, he thinks as he adjusts you to lay your head on his thigh, tucking your blanket in around you.

Maybe you're not who he thought you were.

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"What do you mean you were inside her apartment?" Namjoon asks, visibly surprised as he puts down his chopsticks for a moment. "She let you inside?"

"It was raining hard, didn't want to let me drive home, so I had some tea at hers and left later. She fell asleep anyways, she was pretty beat, so I left a note and drove home after closing her windows." Jungkook casually explains, continuing his lunch across his friend.

"You do know she doesn't even let her own mother visit, right?" Namjoon asks, and Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, how would I know?" He says. "From how she acts and speaks, I thought she'd have regular visitors." He says, scooping up some rice as his friend across shakes his head.

"No. She hates visitors. She doesn't even open for the mailman." Namjoon says. "Her apartment is her safety zone. I'm surprised she let you in." He shrugs.

"Maybe you just don't know her that well." Jungkook teases his friend.

"You simply don't know her at all, Jungkook." He says. "Listen.. I, don't know how to say this.. " he starts, and Jungkook raises his brow in confusion.

"I'm not gonna fuck her, if that's what you're worried about." He says, and Namjoon runs a hand over his face.

"Thats.. that wasn't something I was worried about until you mentioned it actually." He mumbles. "So yeah. Don't do that please. And also, don't.. just, don't get too close to her. In general."

"Why?" Jungkook wonders honestly now. "Joon, she's not gonna break my heart or something. I'm an adult man, not a lovesick boy going through puberty. She's not even my type." He laughs.

"Jungkook, I'm serious." The older guy says, picking his chopsticks back up. "Just.. leave it as it is right now."

"What're you worried about?" Jungkook wants to know, finishing his meal as he wipes his hands clean. "You seem so serious about this."

"Because I am." He underlines again. "I told you before, she's not who she pretends she is." He reminds the younger, who leans back, arms crossed.

"What, is she a criminal?" He wonders. "Sells drugs? Owns guns? Criminal record?"

"Theres things I won't tell you cause that's not my right." Namjoon explains. "You're a good guy, I know that, she knows that. But if you get too close, she'll just get attached again." He sighs.

"And?" Jungkook clicks his tongue. "Nothing wrong with that. We're attached too. That's what friendships are. Attachments."

"I meant it as in, more than that." Namjoon mumbles in a somber tone.

"Oh." Jungkook realizes. "I.. don't think I'm her type anyways." He laughs it off, but Namjoon doesn't seem convinced.

"Just.. keep your distance." He warns. "Its for the best."

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Namjoon doesn't tell him anything about you since that day.

You don't seem to hang out with everybody as much, and he himself hasn't seen you in what's been weeks now. Everytime he checks on you via your best friend, all he gets is a short answer that's way too vague to be the actual truth. Jungkook isn't sure why he's so interested in the first place. Maybe it's that small tiny glimpse of you that you've shown him, let him taste, before disappearing from his radar.

It bothers him, mainly because he feels like Namjoon has made him out to be the bad guy that's going to break your heart it seems. He's never given a clear reason why. He's never done anything wrong.

But its not like you've vanished into thin air, and because of pure luck, he spots you in a store he's visiting quite often, crouched down at the plushy-section. He almost didn't recognize you, pastel pink bucket hat and facemask hiding you pretty well- but for some reason, he still somehow knows it's you.

You seem to struggle between buying one or the other, holding both as you glance from one of the plush toys to the other.

"Tough decision, hm?" He asks, careful not to startle you but he still does, the seemingly sudden attack of his voice sending you straight onto your butt from your squatting position. "Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you like that." He chuckles, helping you up and standing.

"No worries. I didn't pay attention." You say, while you hold onto the still packaged stuffed animals. "And uh.. yeah. I was thinking of taking, you know, maybe one." You mumble more or less. "Both are too expensive."

"Yeah, they price these pretty high in my opinion." He affirms, poking one of the plastic bags you're holding. "What's so special about these?" He wonders, and your eyes suddenly grow bigger, hands squishing the thing eagerly.

"They're squishy, and soft!" You explain to him eagerly. "Try it! They're like, I don't know, stress balls or something!" You say, and he does as you say, pulling and pressing down on the round purple creature.

"Hm yeah okay, I can see where you're coming from." He nods, charmed by your cute enthusiasm over the toy. "So, which one you taking?"

"I.. like the color of this one, and its a shark, but the other one is a chicken and cute too.. like, look at those little wings.." you complain, pulling on said wings a bit before you look down. "I don't know."

"Why not buy both and just.. skip out on buying any next month?" He wonders. "Treat yourself. For being brave at the doc's." He chuckles, and you start to fidget on the spot a little.

"They're too expensive." You reason. "If I buy both, I won't have enough money to buy proper groceries next week, and Joon has been bugging me about not eating frozen foods all the time.." you complain.

"Well, he's right, that's not exactly healthy." Jungkook agrees, before taking the chicken from you and turning it to see the price tag. "Its alright. Let me buy it then." He shrugs.

"You- no, you really don't have to." You say.

"I know." He smiles. "But I want to."

You don't say anything. You're not sure Jungkook is aware of what he's doing, supporting your bad habit of buying 'kid's stuff' as Namjoon scolds you constantly. Walking towards checkout, you can't help but wonder. "Did you and Joon fight?" You ask, and Jungkook shrugs.

"Not sure, honestly." He admits. "He's.. I guess he doesn't trust me with you."

"What does you mean?" You wonder in a serious manner, careful to make sure the line keeps moving as you walk next to him towards the cash registers.

"Thats what I'm wondering." He says. "Namjoon seems pretty protective over you. I don't know, usually I'd say he's got the hots for you, but he's with Jin, so that can't be the reason." He tells you, before walking closer to the busy cashier.

"As if anyone's got the hots for me but fourty-plus year old men." You scoff.

"Hey now, don't do that." He clicks his tongue. "I bet most guys are just- intimidated by you. You know." He shrugs, waiting in line next to you with the round chicken plush tucked under his arm. "I know I was."

"Was?" You wonder, and he laughs down at you, his smile almost blinding.

"Yeah, definitely past tense." He jokes. "Now I just think you're cute."

You want to question that further. Suddenly, it's your turn, but Jungkook walks right behind you, pulls out his credit card way before you can grab your wallet, pays for both the stuffed animals and walks you out the store.

"How'd you get here?" He wonders, as you both walk outside.

"Bus." You answer, and he nods.

"You want me to drive you home?" He asks. "I don't mind, it's on the way for me."

"Jungkook.." you suddenly say, voice trembling a little as you stand in front of him at the side of the parking lot. "I.. appreciate your kindness but, uhm.. please don't." You say, and he's a bit taken aback by it.

"Did I do something wrong?" He wonders. "If I came off too strong, I apologize. Really didn't mean to."

"Its just that.. I'm kind of tired getting friendzoned." You laugh bitterly. "Its kind of old at this point. Seeing everyone be nice to you and then move on once they've found their special someone."

"Thats.." he starts, brows all scrunched up as he stands in front of you. "You're not some part-time activity." He explains honestly to you. "I'm not being nice to you to fight my boredom or anything like that. And you're definitely not friendzoned." He chuckles a little.

"I'm always friendzoned." You scoff. "I'm just everyone's little sister, or the lewd one that's always up for a random call when the date doesn't show up." You argue.

"Well, here's the thing." Jungkook tells you, gently uncrossing your arms before placing the two round plushies in each, respectively. "I really don't care what's made you build up that tough mean-girl persona you've created. But I'd like to get to know the girl that's looking at me right now, just like this." He grins, tapping the underside of your chin teasingly. "You're teasing me with those glimpses of you every now and then. I want to know more, if you'd let me."

"That 'me' is boring." You say. "She's childish."

"I've thrown a tamper tantrum before." He shrugs.

"She's stupid." You tell him, but he shakes his head.

"I doubt that. We all got brain-farts every now and then." He crosses his arms, amused smirk on his face at your attempts to drive him away.

"She's cries over Disney movies." You try, and he laughs.

"Hey come on, everyone cries over the fox and the hound!" He simply defends, and you sigh, almost annoyed.

"Jungkook you say all that right now as if it won't end with me hopelessly falling in love with you, while you're gonna leave me behind because 'you're sorry but you've met someone and you're a great friend but nothing more'!" You complain.

"You won't even try and let me love you." He softly says, and you're a little shocked at how easy he says the for you dreaded 'L'-word. It's a big word. A heavy one. "I can't stand here and promise you that I'll fall in love with you, because first and foremost, I don't know you. And you don't know me either." He explains. "But that's something we can change. You just have to let me in."

"And you don't have to let me in?" You try and jab at him, making him laugh.

"I don't have to let you in." He simply says. "You've been seeing who I am the whole time. I'm not hiding anything." He shrugs.

"..." you pull the two stuffed animals a bit closer to yourself, plastic crinkling in your arms before you speak. "What if you don't like who I am?" You wonder quietly.

"Then at least we tried." He offers. "Life is scary. Meeting new people is scary. Letting people go is scary." He softly explains. "But if you just hide away from those things, you'll also miss out on opportunities to experience something great. Meet someone special. Or create a memory you'll never forget."

"So you're saying you already know you won't like me?" You say, now just being stubborn to see what he does.

"Stop putting words into my mouth you brat." Be laughs. "I don't like the 'you' that you force yourself to be. I know that for sure." Jungkook tells you, grabbing his car keys from his pant pocket. "But I feel like I'm gonna like this you that's right in front of me right now a lot."

He speaks bold, appears honest. You're still not sure if you trust him. And namjoon had told you to really keep him at distance, stay on high alert of anything.

But somehow, he's caught you, sticky like honey already staining your skin.

And you've always had a sweet tooth.

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It kind of feels like sneaking around.

Even though right now, you're doing nothing naughty at all, not even remotely. Jungkook is simply helping you cook, watches the pizza in the oven before he puts the mitts to the side. "You got a timer set?" He wonders, and you nod.

"I've got it to the full time for now, let's hope we don't forget the check every now and then." You say, and he nods, walking into the living room with you. The smell of food is already slowly invading your space, and you open a window to make sure it airs out before you'll go to bed later.

He's staying over. You're surprisingly calm about it.

On the couch, he's looking at you from the side. "What?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"I'm just wondering." He says. "Why do you act so differently around others?"

"Because everyone walks over you when you're soft." You explain, pulling your legs closer to yourself next to him. "No one takes you seriously. You're just the quiet girl and nothing interesting. No one cares." You mumble.

Jungkook wants to tell you that's not true, but he knows that he'd be wrong. It's sad that soft hearts get put in a hard shell because of what most people think should be an admirable personality. Someone strong doesn't have to be someone who's always bold and loud.

When his fingers find your knee, you stiffen. It makes him question out loud what he's been having on the tip of his tongue for a while now, ever since arriving at your place. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He wonders, and you shake your head- before shrugging, unsure. "You're a bit confusing. In a way, cause you seem like you want me close, but when I am, you start to look all cornered, just like now." He wonders.

"Yeah well.. when a guy touches me, it's always been just for that." You say. "You know. Sex."

His face becomes serious. You notice quickly how that sounded.

"Nothing bad ever happened! Not really." You admit. "But it's.. I guess I should've told you right from the start. So you won't get your hopes up." You sigh. "I don't.. want to have sex."

"Okay." He says. "Neither do I right now. I just want to touch you. Nothing else."

"Yeah no, I mean it as in- not right now, probably not anytime soon, maybe never?" You ask more or less. "I've.. never had sex before. And at this point it feels like I've just passed all the opportunities to have it with anybody."

"Do you dislike the thought of it?" He wonders. "What's making you uncomfortable about it?"

"I.. guess I'm scared it'll be awkward?" You say, wiggling your feet a bit. "What if I don't like something, for example? Or if I make a weird sound, or, I don't know, don't cum or you don't cum and then it's all wasted time and just awkward.." you try and explain.

"You're intimidated by it." He sums it up for you, and you nod. "Thats fine. First's are scary, no matter what kind."

"I'm an adult." You conquer. He laughs.

"I'm one too, and I'm still freaked out by shit!" He laughs. "But, to get back to the topic, I'm okay with that."

"Okay with not having sex?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I mean, I get it's important for most people, and I like the intimacy of it, yeah. But it's not a necessity." He shrugs. "I can jerk myself off just fine."

You deflate a little, both because you feel more calm now, but also because you don't know how to tell him you might be interested in the entire topic. But it seems like he can read minds.

"We can also, you know, ease into it." He offers. "Doesn't have to be all hard-core bondage first time." Jungkook laughs. "You okay with this whole discussion?" He gently asks, and you nod.

You're weirdly alright with it.

"So let's like- what do you like?" He wonders. "As in, when you masturbate, what's something you enjoy?"

You cringe a bit. He laughs. You're cute.

"I.. uh.." you stammer, voice a lot more quiet now. "I've got like, a vibrator? That's nice." You shrug. "Other than that, uhm, just my hand. You know. Basic stuff."

Jungkook nods. "Ever put something in?"

"It.. uh. Dunno. Never really came from it alone." You say. "Which is also why I think sex with me is gonna be weird because I've never really gotten myself off on just that." You say.

"Doesn't mean anything." He shakes his head. "The mood, foreplay, all of that makes a huge difference. That and the fact that someone else is doing it. I remember my first handjob I got. It was weird as fuck, even though technically I should've been used to it." He laughs. "I think what personally scared me most was just being naked I guess." He offers some past fears of his own.

You nod at that. "Same."

"You're pretty tough." He smiles. "I'm not just saying that. I think you're pretty, with clothes and without as well." He flirts.

"I'm still not having sex with you." You defend yourself, and he shrugs, smiling still.

"I know." He tells you. "I'm still fine with that."

It's quiet for a moment, until you speak up again. You're not sure why you're bringing it up again when you could've just let it go, because clearly you've always been against the idea of having sex with someone. But with Jungkook, for some reason, it's so easy to talk about all of this.

"I.. you said you'd ease into it " you mumble quietly. He nods. "How?"

"I could just jerk you off." He shrugs. "Simple hand job. Clothes can stay on."

"And then?" You wonder.

"Then what?" He chuckles. "The you'll know if you like someone else doing something like that for you." He offers.

"What if I'll fall in love with you then?" You quietly ask, and he impishly smiles.

"Then I've done one he'll of a good job." He jokes, before looking at you more seriously. "In all seriousness though. I wouldn't mind you falling in love with me."

"I can tell." You say, looking away. "You're easy to love."

"Thank you." He offers. "You're very easy to fall in love with too."

"That makes no sense." You roll your eyes. "Love and lust aren't the same. You just want to screw me."

"Do I?" He raises his brows. "Can't lie and say you're not physically attractive to me. But I stand by what I said. If you don't want sex, I won't ask for it."

"You'll just end up leaving me for someone who wants it." You bitterly laugh. He doesn't look happy.

"No." He says. "Okay, do you want be with me? Emotionally, I mean?" He asks you, and you look at him wide eyes. "Yes, I'm asking you out here."

"I-" you stammer, caught off guard. "Yeah?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" He teases, making you whine.

"Maybe? Yes?" You try again, but he just shakes his head.

"Alright." He simply answers. "I'll go look, see if the pizza is burned yet. You calm down, I think I've riled you up enough." He laughs, hand on your shoulder for just a second before he leaves you to yourself, giving you some breathing room.

It gives you time to think.

You like him. He's a nice guy, good looking too, and he seems honest about his intentions. You don't love him yet, but its clear that he's easy to fall in love with. But isn't love a requirement to start a relationship? Can you just get together and then fall in love?

You're not sure. But you also want to find out.

So when he emerges from your kitchen, you call out to him. "I want to." You say, and he looks at you wide eyed for just a moment, before he seems to realize what you're talking about. "I.. wanna be with you." You say.

And he smiles, grins brightly, like a kid just being offered a trip to Disney world.

"Okay."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Everything alright?" He chuckles, voice breaking the silence in the darkened living room. "I can hear you creeping around."

It's true, you've been trying to keep quiet because you really don't know how to ask this. It's been bugging you for hours now, there's no way it seems you'll be able to fall asleep without at least attempting to solve this issue. But how do you ask for it?

He'd asked you out. You're together now, right?

"I- uh.." you wonder quietly, navigating slowly towards the pull-out couch where he's laying on. "Just wanted to see if everything's alright." You chicken out last moment, and he laughs softly.

"I'm alive and well." He answers you, before he throws back one side of the blankets, patting the spot next to him. "You wanna sleep here?" He wonders, and you sigh.

"How come you know that?" You almost whine, walking closer before you crawl underneath the warmed up blankets he'd been resting under. "Thanks." You say, but he shakes his head.

"No problem. You can come closer, too." He tells you more quietly now that you're already laying next to him.

It takes a moment for you. You're not sure how close you want to get, how close he will let you- so you slowly scoot forwards, inching closer like a scared animal before you finally settle with your head on the inside of his shoulder, arm over his middle. "Is that okay?" You wonder. He nods.

"Definitely." He answers. "Do you cuddle a lot?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"I've not.. cuddled with anybody since I was a child." You admit. "So I.. jungkook, I'm gonna need a lot of help for this." You confess quietly. "I don't know how this works. How I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what's right and what's not."

"Thats fine." He reassures you.

It's a little silent after that. You don't know what to say, how to ask. Isn't it weird now? Won't you move too fast? "What's going on in there." He teases, finger flicking your head rather gently. You move around a little uncomfortably. He notices right away. "Not good? You can go back to your bed if it's not comfortable." He offers.

"I don't know.." you say, unsure how to put it in words. "..I'm still thinking about what you said. Earlier." You mumble.

"What exactly?" He wonders quietly.

"The uhm.. you know. Sex part." You stammer out.

"I really don't need it." He chuckles. "Might be hard to grasp but if you don't want it I won't bother you with it."

"I want to." You say. It's dead quiet for a moment before you continue. "Like.. how you said. You know, start small, and all that." Tou explain.

"Okay." He answers after a moment. "Right now?" He asks. You nod.

"I just.. don't know what to do. And I didn't shave- oh God okay no maybe some other day then-" you ramble, he laughs.

"Who cares if you shave?" He jokes easily. "Its fine by me. I don't mind it." He tells you.

"You're weird." You cringe a bit. "Guys don't like that-"

"Maybe you've just met idiots then." He shrugs. "I'm honest here. I don't care if you shave or not. You could dye that hair downstairs pink, who am I to tell you what your body has to look like?" He scoffs playfully, making you laugh a little.

This is why you like him. He's easy. Simple. Comfortable.

"Do you want me to use something? Or just my hand?" He wonders quietly, and you just shrug.

"I wanna.. you know. Know if I like what you do." You offer, and he hums an affirmative reply at that, hand under the covers feeling for your thigh.

"You can stop me at any time." He almost whispers. "It won't be awkward, I promise." He assures, and you nod, letting his palm explore under the covers. You're not sure if he's careful or just plain teasing- but most of all, it's strangely exciting.

He moves you a bit, pulls you closer, eyes searching for ant signs of discomfort. "Jungkook..?" You ask quietly, and he chuckles a bit before nodding. "..can you uhm.. maybe kiss me?" You wonder, and there's no reaction for a moment, until he moves again, adjusts himself so he can properly angle himself, lips meeting yours carefully so.

The first one feels weird. You're unsure. You lift your head in a moment if bravery to try again, and it gets more comfortable.

It's nice.

He seems amused, but not at you - more at the fact that you're a lot more independent than you might've thought you'd be in a situation like this.

You're leading him. You're probably not aware, but your body language and responses all speak clearly to him about what you enjoy and what you don't. At first, he stops any advances, but you whine for him to continue. "Just.. cold hands."

"Sorry." He chuckles. "My fingers are pretty cold sometimes." He jokes. You nod, breathing a bit heavier now as soon as his hands warm up, slowly traveling underneath your underwear, middle finger easily finding your most sensitive spot. "Feeling good?" He wonders, and you nod, squirming around a bit.

"More." You ask, moving around a little, seemingly unsure where to put your limbs. He's doing it very differently from how you'd do it- but it's nice. He's making you feel good, not just in lust, but also in general.

There really isn't anything weird about it.

Or maybe your brain is just a bit foggy.

You want to stop him suddenly, feeling too sensitive, and he does halter his movements to check in with you. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Weird. Sensitive- I.. don't know." You say. "I feel like I'm gonna pee or something." You say.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before?" He wonders, and you suddenly think. Have you? You're not sure.

"I.. don't know." You say.

"Hm." He cocks his head to the side a little, amused look on his face. "Lets see then." He almost challenges, resuming his activities, making you squirm yet again as you feel like something might be happening. Your back arches, and suddenly, you're not sure why you can't help but gasp out, his movements perfectly stable as pleasure rolls over you in waves. "There we go." He laughs, watching as you slowly come back down.

"Thank you.." you say breathlessly, before cringing at the sight of his glistening hand. "Uhm.. do you want me to do something too.?"

"It's okay." He says. "I've enjoyed watching you. That's enough." Jungkook chuckles, before pulling back the covers. "No, clean up. I gotta wash my hand and change too." He laughs, slapping your thigh with his clean hand.

"Change?" You wonder, standing up and cringing at the slippery feeling between your legs.

"I told you." He laughs, and only now do you notice a wet spot on his sweatpants as he'd turned on the lights. "I really enjoyed myself as well."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He's warm.

His arm lays heavy over your body, breathing soft and barely noticeable on the skin of your neck. Jungkook has slept close to you the entire night, didn't mind when you stole the blanket from him it seems. He's holding onto you, face clear of any worry, no muscle tensed as he sleeps.

He slowly seems to wake up, pulls you closer for a moment as he stretches his limbs and back, before his tired eyes open. "Hey." He greets with a raspy voice.

"Hey." You quietly greet back. He chuckles.

"How do you feel?" He wonders, pulling you closer with a sleepy grin.

"Good. Happy." You say.

"In love?" He wonders.

You nod.

And he smiles, brighter than the sun already high up in the sky outside your window.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[praisethesuuun]

Hiiiiiiiii Could I request for a Buddha NSFW alphabet? please? qwp"

the time...has come. I apologize for any kind of mistake or if it's not the best, I tried my best!

Buddha: NSFW Alphabet

A: aftercare <what they're like after sex>

I'm pretty sure this concept isn't too developed in Buddha's mind, I don't think he's the best person for aftercare, but he has his tricks to make you fall at his feet. I can see him offering you some sweets or your favorite snacks stored in the drawer next to your bed. I think Buddha deserved some cuddles, he tried so hard not to eat them!

B: body part <their favourite body part on them and you>

His favorite part of his own body is probably his eyes: Buddha likes the way they allow them to read you like an open book, or your dazed gaze every time you enchant yourself in front of his irises. His ego skyrockets every time it happens and he will never stop teasing you about it. As for which part of your body Buddha prefers, I don't think there is one in particular; he doesn't seem like someone who places too much emphasis on physical appearance. If he loves you, Buddha will love everything about you, without preferences.

C: cum <anything to do with it, really>

I'm pretty sure Buddha lives for cumming in your mouth. He would squeeze your cheeks or pull your hair, seeing how you swallow everything; a grin on his face when you struggle. "Was it sweet, honey? No, no, bad girl...don't talk with your mouth full~"

D: dirty secret <a dirty secret of theirs>

Buddha always had a fantasy involving candy in bed. Let me explain, he would masturbate you with a lollipop, making you lick it and asking you which is tastier, the sweet or you. Buddha would make you cum repeatedly with his tongue, licking you good in all the right spots, feeling the sweet taste of his two favorite snacks, giggling from time to time. You'll need a shower after...you'll be a little sticky-

E: experience <how experienced are they>

Well, Buddha had a wife and children before he set out on his path to enlightenment; so I'd say he has enough experience.

F: favourite position <self-explanatory>

I think the lotus position is the most suitable, because he can hold you close to him, neither of you is in control, you are moving at the same time. It's the right definition of equality and balance, just the way he likes it. Not surprisingly, another position Buddha is crazy about is 69; bring you pleasure with his hot tongue, while he thrusts ruthlessy in your mouth...it's just perfect for him!

G: goofy <would they use humor in the moment?>

It is Buddha we are talking about, it is obvious that he will crack a few jokes here and there. He's not serious AT ALL.

H: hair <how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the courtains?>

The carpet is slightly darker than the curtains. Also, Buddha is not really clean, travels all the time and lives on poverty and good principles. You certainly can't expect too much. I'm not saying he totally stinks, but remind him to wash up once in a while, okay?

I: intimacy <are they romantic in the moment or they do not care?>

Given his character, Buddha is not inclined to bond with anyone, but only with people who manage to catch his attention; as a result, he'll try to make every moment he spends with you special - in his own way. Your sessions are not necessarily long, but very passionate and romantic, full of love and sweet words.

J: jack off <...self-explanatory part 2>

To no one's surprise, he does, but only when he hasn't seen you in a long time. Otherwise, you can rest assured that he will come looking for you at the exact moment he feels aroused.

K: kinks <their kinks>

If there's one important thing for Buddha, it's feeling every part of you, he has to live you deeply. When you make love, Buddha kisses every part of your body and enjoys when you masturbate each other; plus, he has a thing for involving food. Once, he could easily blindfold you, and then cover you entirely with honey, licking and kissing you, mixing the sweetness of that sticky gold with the taste of your fluids.

L: location <where they usually do the do>

Buddha is a person who wants to bring out the best in you, trying to grow the couple, so his favorite time to do it is at night, in the moonlight. When the soft moonlight illuminates your red cheeks and bright eyes, while is hair falls softly on his shoulders, creating a sort of barrier around you two. Also, this boy has a penchant for fucking near water sources, like rivers, lakes, or natural waterfalls.

M: motivation <what turns them on>

How can Buddha resist your tongue and lips sensually enveloping a lollipop? Especially if it's HIS lollipop, which you literally ripped out of his mouth. If anyone else did it, that person would be dead by now, but since it's you...he'll give you another kind of punishment...

N: no <things they refuse to do>

Involving other people in your sex life, he does not feel like it. As I said before, Buddha has to live you and no one else, your relationship is like a small nucleus that no one has the right to intrude; whether it's from a sexual or amorous point of view.

O: oral <do they like giving or receiving?>

He probably has no preferences, however, if someone were to present the choice in front of him, he would prefer to receive. Buddha must see you struggling as he grips your hair, abusing your mouth as he pleases. Buddha hears your gags, moans...everything, and it drives him crazy.

P: pace <are they slow and sensual or fast and rough>

It really depends on his mood, but he takes it easy most of the time. Buddha wants slow and romantic sex, full of passion, as if his every breath was the equivalent of a small part of his heart; but if you want it to go faster, you can straddle him and ride him like there's no tomorrow. He'll enjoy the pleasure, sucking your breasts while you ruin him❤️

Q: quickie <would they fuck you for five minutes or wait until you wait home?>

Let's say Buddha prefers to take his time and not act hastily: he wants you both to enjoy the moment, he wants to play it safe and take his time, and, more importantly, he wants to avoid anyone seeing you.

R: risk <...DUH>

To make you happy, but just to listen to you for once, Buddha would be inclined to take risks. But you absolutely choose a safe word and, at the first wrong thing, you stop immediately and cuddle.

S: stamina <how long can they last?>

His rounds are quite long and passionate, so Buddha can go on for a good few hours. I'll say at least 4 or 5 hours.

T: toys <do they own any? do they use them?>

I don't think Buddha has too many toys - also because he doesn't have enough money to buy them - so, I'm sorry but that's a no. However, you could easily involve simple things, like, bandages or bandanas to tie you up.

U: unfair <how much they like to tease>

All right, I say it, Buddha likes it a lot; however, it only does so because it can prepare you better that way. With his teasing, he always makes you nice and wet, ready to welcoming him and his cock.

V: volume <are they asking for a noise complaint, or are they quiet?>

Does he look like he's quite? This one a screamer, not gonna lie! Everyone knows when you are making love, and whoever hears you starts betting on who will moan the most, if you or Buddha. He can't help himself and sees no reason to not moan out of pleasure if he feels good.

W: wild card <a random headcanon☆>

Let's talk about that time you got stucked to the covers. After everything I've told you, you couldn't not expect such an episode. It was among the first times that Buddha had insisted on trying to involve food during one of your sessions, in particular, a mix between honey and caramel was created. You got attached to the bedsheets. Buddha laughed. That mix was never used again.

X: x-ray <what to they look like under there?>

Well, the size is average, it's neither too big nor too small, and it's perfectly straight. The base is slightly wider. The tip color is #e8a497. Oh, and it's a bit hairy!

Y: yearning <are they in the mood to fuck or are they tame?>

Buddha is very lazy, you have to stimulate him, always looking for interesting ways to make him lose his mind. You could play brat, that might get his attention...why don't you steal his snacks? That's a good idea!

Z: zzz <how quickly they fall asleep afterwards>

Pretty fast asleep, but he doesn't fall asleep until he's sure you're safe. So expect to find yourself sleeping on his chest where he can feel you close.

[dilfguzzler]

john price nsfw headcanons!

i'm currently hyperfixated on john price and want to write more for him. i always like to do an nsfw alphabet to get a feel for the character in my little bird brain

enjoy! open to requests (price and ghost only atm)

f!reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his form of aftercare is definitely quality time. he will have just obliterated you, your mind is in outer fucking space. he'll pull you on top of him, not even cleaning you up yet, just wanting to give you time to come back to yourself.

sometimes the feelings are so much and you'll be crying, just feeling the feels and he'll stroke your back, murmuring how good you were for him, how you're his best girl. once you're fully back to your right mind, he'll get you some water, clean you up and cuddle you until you have a sleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

john price is an ass man. nothing else to be said.

he likes his hands. out in the field they cause damage and destruction. but they also keep you safe. they're also the hands that can make you scream and cry in pleasure. he also knows that you have a slight hand kink, so that's a bonus.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

INSIDE. the only time mr. breeding kink will ever not cum in your cunt is if he's coming in your mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wants to share you. wants to watch you be fucked by his boys while he watches. wants to place you in any position he wants like he's conducting his own porn shoot. he doesn't know if his possessive streak would ever actually let this happen though.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

this man has been around. hoowee he knows exactly what he's doing, knows things about your body that you didn't even now

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

honestly, he's up for pretty much anything. he likes to be in control so even if you're riding him, be sure he's the one really in control.

he loves missionary, seeing your face, and command you to keep your eyes open and on him. he can get some real power behind his thrusts in missionary too, so much that you're limping a bit for a few days after.

also, doggy. see B, ass-man

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

definitely more serious. like he might crack a dry-ass dad joke, but he takes his fucking seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

this man is HAIRY. he keeps it under control but he's a very hairy dude

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this one is a tricky one because i definitely think he has two sides.

one side is the feral, dominant man who just wants to FUCK.

the other is this old-fashioned guy, definitely still dominant, who wants to be romantic and charm the pants off you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

over his years in the army and the SAS, he has gotten pretty close with his hand. the only difference now when he's away, he has some abso-fucking-lutely delightful polaroids of you. he particularly loves the ones you sneak into his pockets before he leaves. those are always a nice surprise.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

this man is a kinky old boy. as mentioned before he is mr. breeding kink. defo daddy kink vibes although i cant decide if he likes to be called daddy or sir more. i think he has certain moods for each.

like sometimes he's in the mood to wreck you and wants your total obedience, this is when he likes to be sir.

sometimes he feels a little bit softer and wants you to be his good girl, and is willing to allow you a little bit of leeway and let you mess around a bit more or whatever

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he's a traditional guy. he likes to take you in bed as it's easiest (and god, does he hate to admit it, but his back can't really take anywhere else anymore)

he loves to take you soft and slow on the couch though.

oh, and he'll never forget you sitting on his lap for 2 hours straight, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. he was so proud of you for your minimal squirming and whining.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

simply, you. you literally just wake up in the morning beside him and he wants to fuck you into the middle of next week.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don't think he'd ever want to hurt you. like he's not against a bit of slapping, bruising you and being rough but he's always very controlled and knows what he's doing. he would never want to genuinely, seriously hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he's a certified pussy eater, i know it. the beard adds so much. but when he eats you out, he's running on his time, he won't stop after one, two, three times. he goes until his jaw hurts.

and while he loves eating you out. fuck it if he doesn't love your mouth on his cock. sometimes he'll just leave you there while he watches the match and smokes a cigar. it's his favourite way to relax.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

as i said above, i think he definitely has two moods. so it depends

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he's a busy chap, so yeah he's up for quickies. it's not his favourite of course but sometimes he just needs to be inside you, and he'll take what he can get.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's up for experimenting. but he will never put your safety at risk. also, his job requires a certain level of discretion so he can't be doing anything that could jeopardise that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he hates to think about it, but he can't go like he could in his 20s. he can last ages but he needs a bit more time between rounds. but that doesn't mean there's no time for fun in while he's regrouping himself.

if he's feeling mean, he'll pull out your toy collection and use all sorts of fun stuff on you, not giving you a chance to recover

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

yes. you have a toy box full of all sorts of goodies. he loves scouring the internet looking for different things he can use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he does NOT like to be teased. but he will tease you omg.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's grunter lol. he'll say some nasty, sweet things to you.

although, you'll never forget the time you made him almost squeal when you did something with your hips while riding him. that was fun

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he's kind of a meanie sometimes and he's so glad you love it and love his grumpy side. he never thought he'd find someone he'd align with so well, not only sexually, but in every other way too.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.5in, uncut, thick but not too thick y'know, kind of curves upwards

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not as high as it once was. he loves to fuck but he's also 100% content to sit and watch some shite tv with you or watch you make dinner or some other domestic stuff

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

won't fall asleep until he knows you're happy and fully back to yourself. he's also gotten into the habit of needing a cigar after sex. he can't sleep until he ticks certain boxes

[captain-mj]

Hey gimme that alien thing

Glad you finally sent me this! I loved talking about it with you! btw if you guys want to talk about an idea, feel free to message me

This is really horny but Roach is a human biologist with an alien Soap and Ghost (different species).

Roach felt weird being the only human on ship sometimes. He and Ghost were also the only species evolved from predators which only made it worse. His instinct to smile or stare at them directly when they spoke made most of them uncomfortable, too reminiscent of what they expected from the apex predators of their worlds.

Roach would never blame them! It was their instincts that made them afraid just as much as it was his instincts to be polite. He tried not to get irritated at them when they'd flinch or make a big deal of telling him that he was "Staring predatorily" again. Eventually, he just covered the bottom of his face so he didn't have to worry about it.

Ghost understood. He looked like a predator. Unlike Roach who was omnivorous, Ghost was an obligatory carnivore. Beside occasionally eating these plants that tasted like mint, he only ate meat. His teeth mostly resembled several canines, though some were clearly meant to break bones. His ears were sharp and pointed like a cat that could easily swivel all the way around. A fascinating part of his biology was his voice. Or more accurately, his vocal cords. They were designed to mimic sounds. His voice was not his own. Apparently, it came from some man from Manchester that talked to him and then was killed later. Didn't even remember his name. Just noticed it put others at ease.

"Gary." Ghost purred, sounding like gravel. "You're doing it again."

Roach shrugged. "I like categorizing our crew mates. I am a biologist."

"Planning on exploring my anatomy again?" Giant dark eyes with vertical pupils stared at him. Meant for hunting at night. Ghost looked amused with him.

Roach hated that he wore a mask. His features were gorgeous. Sharp and attractive. But he refused to unlearn baring his teeth and looking calm all the time. So he wore a mask just as Roach did. Kept himself carefully under wraps. He heard rumors that Ghost was disliked by his own species. Roach couldn't think of a reason why.

Ghost and Roach stayed perched where they were, staring down at everyone below. They acted so... odd. Almost herd like.

Except for Soap.

Johnny Soap MacTavish.

Roach would love to explore his anatomy. Maybe his psyche as well. He was a strange man. Right now, he was sniffing the air and looking around, soft deer like ears flicking up. Roach had a feeling the creature he evolved from was similar from a Cervinae. His ears were so big and soft, designed to hear things for miles. Long legs meant to run quickly and a poof of a tail that seemed to mostly just give away his mood. Roach wasn't sure what other uses it would have. Despite the sniffing, Roach knew he was not that sensitive to smell. He had to rely on his hearing and sight. It was close to impossible for any of them to sneak up on them.

Well, not Roach and Ghost. It was almost too easy for them unless Roach wore his cologne. Soap never seemed to mind. He never scolded Roach for walking too close or jumped out of Ghost's way when he saw him coming through.

Soap had giant eyes. His face looked very human because of it. And... innocent. Roach knew he wasn't. Soap had made jokes so dirty they turned Roach's ears red. He seemed to find a special joy in it. But it was hard when giant blue eyes blinked at him.

Ghost tapped sharp nails against the metal they were sitting on. Roach watched it.

"Nervous tic?"

"Hunting instinct. It's to check if my nails are sharp enough."

"You can't eat crew." Roach gently reminded.

"Two types of hunting, Gary. There are more hungers than just food." Ghost stood up, long tail lashing behind him. Roach wished he knew what it meant. His species relied mostly on body language, meaning he probably spoke volumes more than he bothered to translate to Roach.

Instead, he finally went downstairs to eat. He sat next to Ghost like usual.

Unlike usual, Soap sat in front of them. He seemed agitated, ears and tail twitching every few seconds. However, he straightened up and tilted his head at them, ear standing up. It was his version of smiling and looking Roach in his eyes.

Ghost pulled his food a little closer to himself, eating faster. Roach followed suit. It felt really weird, eating meat in front of Soap. He didn't miss the way his eyes followed it, watching it disappear into Roach's mouth.

Soap started to eat his own food. "Is it true humans regularly drink coffee? I heard it's toxic."

"To a lot of species, it is. It's because of the caffeine. You would probably be fine."

Soap hummed. "Is the stuff here any good?"

Roach shook his head immediately. "No. Next time I find some good coffee, I'll tell you."

Soap leaned forward, giant eyes blinking at him. They didn't look him head on. Just slightly down but still more direct than was considered proper. Roach stared at him openly and watched him blush. He didn't seem scared though, so he didn't look away.

The three of them kept eating. Ghost licked his fingers, getting the blood off of it. Roach grimaced and he grinned.

"Not my fault you need it to be cooked."

Soap tilted his head. "Because of bacteria right? Meat contains more bacteria and potential parasites so humans need it to be heated."

"What's an engineer doing researching humans?" Roach turned his attention back to Soap, watching his flinch and the way his eyes tilted back down.

"I research all my crew mates."

Ghost leaned in. "Need to know what might eat you?"

"Need to know which machines are more vital. How much oxygen is the right level? Nitrogen? If one of the machine for food storage fails, what needs to be prioritized?"

"And you decide that?"

"On paper? Not at all. In reality? Yes. I fix the machines. I'm the first person that messes with them. If an emergency happened, I don't always have time for order."

Ghost tilted his head. "And what would you prioritize?"

"High nitrogen levels. High oxygen isn't a necessity. It would awful to make you wear a mask, Roach, but if you need to, you'd have a much easier time and you'd be the only one really affected as long as we kept the oxygen levels above about eight percent. Also, you guy's food. Hungry herbivores for a few days means some complaining. Irritation. Hungry you two? One of us might be on the menu. Risky business."

"Saying I can't control myself?" Ghost leaned in, giant teeth bared. The still healing mark on Roach's shoulder throbbed.

Soap swallowed, looking at his mouth. "Aye. That's exactly what I'm saying. If you had to eat one of the crew, who would it be?"

Roach hummed. "Morbid question. I could live on plants for a good while."

Ghost licked his teeth. Black tongue dripping with blood. He swallowed. "I'm meant to survive a few weeks with no food. I'm sure they'd hurry up and get food before I start getting dangerous."

Soap nodded quickly. "Still. Question remains. Hopefully, I never have to get a proper answer." He smiled. It was an awkward expression, one he clearly wasn't used to making. "Regardless, I hold you two in high esteem. I doubt either of you would ever be dangerous if it could be helped. I'll talk to you both later." Whatever had irritated him before seemed to have gone away.

Roach got a weird feeling that he was both being mocked and also complimented.

Ghost left before Roach could turn to him to keep talking. He didn't need a translation to read his body language as irritated.

Soap continued to get closer. He had never been one that looked afraid, but now he seemed almost comfortable around them.

Roach found himself drawing in closer. Bewitched by Soap. A simple taste and maybe he'd be cured.

The next time the three of them were together, because it was always the three of them, that Soap smiled again. It looked more natural and both Ghost and Roach wondered if he practiced it.

Ghost thought of slipping off his mask. To stare directly into Soap and see if it made him afraid. That or grab that little tail of his and bend him over the desk.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was the mating time of his lunar year. It meant nothing to anyone else. He did not emit hormones or act like an animal or try to drag people into his office or room for the sole purpose of fucking.

Ghost just got a little easier to irritate and his mind would come up with silly things. Like how Soap could manage to look past his claws and his teeth. With Roach, it was easy to ignore. His nails were similar enough to Soap's. Their hands, though differently sized, were the same general way. Ghost's finger were longer. Made to grip and hold struggling things. Scars dotting him.

Roach saw him as a bit of fun. A "chance to satisfy scientific curiosity" about what certain aliens looked like unclothed. He had said so himself while Ghost had been undressed in his bed. Above him and vulnerable. His gentle hands holding Ghost's shoulders when he felt like he'd shake apart from the sweet contact.

It was silly to think things would change between them or that Soap would be any different. They were... better than Ghost was. Far better. He was a problem. Incorrect on his own planet. Incorrect here. Too big or too small.

Soap's hand on his shoulder caught his attention and his eyes flicked over to him. "Save ya a seat, sir?" He looked to the left of Ghost's ear. It gave the illusion of directness. Horribly rude normally. It made Ghost want to touch. To feel connection.

How pathetic of him. He still sat in the seat Soap saved.

Soap was enraptured by the two of them. Their sharp eyes. Lean muscle designed for endurance. The teeth.

He was well aware his tastes were... well. Among his people, they would outcast him in moments. Finding those traits so alluring. Despite being almost their height, only about two inches shorter than Roach and six under Ghost, he knew they could easily pick him up. He was built for speed. Short bursts to easily get away from things just like them.

Soap had tried to push it down. The feeling of longing. The jealousy when they so easily understood each other. He knew logically that it was just because they were the ones that stuck out. But they fit together so well and Soap wanted that. Yes, he could play pretend and get people's attention all day long, but it never felt substantial.

They never looked at him. While they should be normal. He shouldn't want to be viewed. The way Ghost and Roach looked at him as if he had their whole attention. How their eyes trained on his in a way that monsters had before pouncing. It made his heart race. His mouth go dry.

Soap wanted. longed. needed. He wasn't sure what. Maybe it was as simple as just their attention.

He got it when Ghost put his hand on his back. His hands. They were made to rip apart things like Soap. Get inside and devour. But it was gentle. Sweet even. Just a careful press. His tail started to swish side to side like wild and he could feel the tip brushing against Ghost's gloves. He found it hard to breathe.

"Johnny."

"Simon."

His thumb started to rub in circles. "Roach is omnivorous. He would survive just fine without meat for a while, it's just not their ideal diet. It's why he wouldn't answer your question that day."

"oh."

"But me? I'd eat the accountant that lives in the room next to mine."

Soap looked up at him. "Why?"

"He's the closest thing to a creature I had on my home world. It's from the water. A lovely little thing. You just pop those in your mouth and sink your teeth in. I think he'd taste similar."

Soap nodded. "You've thought about it?"

Ghost hummed. "Emergencies as you said. Sometimes, we don't have time to think. And if came down to it. Well. I'd rather make a level headed decision instead of a rash one. Might hurt someone valuable."

"It's cruel to place us on a value system."

"Not much different than you decide who breathes easy. I'd rather eat an accountant than my only engineer."

Soap did not miss that Ghost said "my engineer". Not the ships. Not even ours. Just my. He looked at him and swallowed.

Slowly, he moved closer. Their tails brushed and he didn't miss the way Ghost's breath caught. For Soap, it was a bit like brushing hands. A simple gesture to show affections. Judging by Ghost's reaction, he had a feeling for him, it may mean a bit more.

Roach caught up to the two of him. His eyes were crinkled like he was smiling. Soap wanted to see it properly. Without the mask. Those beautiful brown eyes. He felt weak to them. He had once heard the term "puppy dog eyes" and when he looked at Roach, he thought he might understand the phrase. While they did not quite match the canines he had seen (and quickly learned to loathe), they did have the same adorableness. They were also perfect for begging as Roach had proved countless times by looking at him and asking politely to try whatever Soap was eating. He gave it up each time without a second thought, even though it could never be reciprocated.

"Soap. You look nice today."

His heart somehow sped up more. It hurt his chest. "Ah. Thank you. You look lovely yourself."

Roach's ears went red and they fell back in line. It felt easier when the three of them were together.

Soap stayed with them late in to the night as Roach did his research. He studied one of the new animals he had gotten from a planet, gently coaxing it to eat. It was like a moth, though it's wings were made of a material he was not familiar. Standard procedure would lead him to dissect the poor thing, but... well. He felt too guilty.

Ghost kept glancing at Soap. Usually, if he and Roach were alone in his lab, he could convince him to come to bed with him. That didn't work if Soap was there.

"So, why is a high ranking member of the ship such as yourself sitting in here while a biologist works?" Soap asked.

Roach hummed. "Ghost helps me with experiments occasionally." He gently grabbed one of the... scales? that had fallen off his creature. He slid it under a microscope.

"What experiments? Maybe I could also be of assistance?" Soap's tail wagged. He looked so excited.

Ghost huffed. "He means we have sex."

The wagging stopped and Roach whipped around. "Simon."

"What?" Ghost's tail twitched. He was getting agitated. It wasn't Soap's fault but Ghost wanted... fuck he just wanted.

Soap had a pretty blush on his face. "My apologies. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Roach paused. "Actually. Soap. Could you..." He looked at him.

Soap paused before swallowing thickly. Alone. With two predators. Being asked... "You want me to... what?"

"Undress for me. I've been curious because most of the diagrams we have of your species don't cover everything. So, if you really would like to assist me." Roach batted his eyelashes.

Damn those puppy dog eyes.

Soap swallowed and started to unbutton his clothes. He was always so confident around them. Always ready to push further. As his shirt slid off his shoulders, so did any form of bravado he might've had. His hands shook as he undid his belt, fear and arousal fighting hard. They wouldn't hurt him. He knew that. But they were looking at him.

"Take off your mask." Soap asked as he pulled the belt from his loops.

Roach slowly did. Pretty mouth. Freckles.

Ghost didn't quite yet.

Soap kicked off his shoes. "Please, sir."

His mask fell on the floor next to Soap's shirt. Giant teeth. Scarring. Gorgeous hair that kinked and curled.

Soap finished undressing and closed his eyes. He resisted the urge to cover himself up.

Roach's hands, he could tell by the softness and bluntness of the nails, brushed against him. Every bit the scientist, he actually did take notes. Measurements and pictures. He gently tilted his head so his face would not be seen.

"Why do you have a tail?"

"What?" Soap felt like he was on fire. He didn't know where Ghost was but he could feel their gazes burning into him. Normally, he'd say with certainty that his body was attractive but was it what they'd find attractive?

"What purpose does it serve? Is it behavioral? For balance?"

Ghost grabbed Soap's tail and his free hand was on his waist, moving him easily. Soap gasped, mouth hanging open and more blood rushed to his face as his body reacted. "Think I found it. Mark that it's a mating thing."

Roach actually did. Soap could hear the scratching of the pencil and it made his head spin. It was so cold and calculated and borderline cruel but he liked it. Liked that Ghost's hands tightened their grip.

Breath right against his ear. "Johnny. Are you okay?"

"Yes." Soap nodded frantically, mouth falling open as Ghost gently ran his fingers down his side. He burned all the way through. It only got worse when Roach's deft fingers touched his cock.

"Similar anatomy to a human's." Roach had a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "I wonder." He gently traced his fingers up and down and Ghost's hands were the only thing that kept Soap still. "Soap. Am I okay to continue?" Gary sounded unbearably sweet. Both of them breathing him in and he was stuck between the two of them.

"Yes, please. Please."

Ghost's mouth pressed to his throat at his pulse. They sank to the floor, careful with him. Roach used something on his fingers to make them slick and then he was gently pressing against Soap's hole. Ghost's hands kept his legs spread and Soap's hands were split between holding on to Roach's shoulder and desperately exploring Ghost's chest.

Soap panted softly. The texture of Roach's hands was... new. It felt so good. He wanted to try something. Carefully, remembering where he was, he tilted his head and pressed his mouth to Ghost's. His tongue gently lapped at Soap's lips.

Soap came with a shudder, body tensing.

Roach hummed. "That was a lot faster than I was expecting." He went to pull away and Soap quickly yanked him back.

"I'm meant for multiple rounds, just keep going. Please keep going, whatever you want to try on me." Soap kept kissing Ghost, pulling him closer.

Roach smiled and gently bit the inside of his thigh, loving the little shivers and tremors that ran through Soap. He gently pulled his fingers out and Soap whined.

"Gary?"

Roach kissed his tummy which made dozens of butterflies erupt in both of their stomachs. "Do you think I could fuck you properly?"

Soap nodded desperately.

Roach undid his pants and looked at Ghost. His dark eyes. The way his teeth stabbed into his bottom lip. "Take turns? You're quite a bit bigger. Might be a good idea."

Ghost nodded and kept Soap held open. It was for the best, he'd be too worried he'd hurt Soap to really enjoy himself. This also gave him a very, very good view. Roach went to bury his face in Soap's neck and Ghost growled, making it clear he wanted to see both of their faces. His face went a brilliant red as he kept eye contact with him. Soap still had his eyes closed, lost to the world and in utter bliss and that's where Ghost wanted to keep him. Blunt nails and claws dug into him, keeping him in place. Sharp teeth and rough tongues ran over his throat and his shoulders and his collarbones. Marks that wouldn't heal for weeks.

Soap arched so hard Ghost worried he'd snap as he came again, making tiny, almost pained moans. And then he came a third time. He was almost at the end of his fourth when Roach came in him. Soap groaned when Roach pulled out of him but he was immediately moving again. He tried to copy the way they nipped at him, biting at Ghost's throat. It sent something sharp up Ghost's spine and he picked Soap up with ease and twisted him. His face was pressed to Roach's chest and he pulled his arms behind his back before sinking into him.

Ghost growled softly and his head fell back. He didn't let Soap have a moment before he pulled back and Soap writhed, feeling an odd sensation.

"Fuck, fuck..." Soap cursed and sniffled. "You're... Yeah, you're big. You..."

Roach cupped Soap's face and looked at him, loving the way he squirmed. "His anatomy is unique. Ridges along each inch that give a great feeling. I could bore you with my theories on the evolutionary process but judging by your expression, I think you're a little too cock drunk for that."

Soap most definitely was. His eyes were unfocused but staring back. Desperate. He reached up and managed to kiss Roach. Ghost continued to count Soap's orgasms. A fifth. Sixth. Seventh. He really was meant for multiple rounds. Maybe later, he and Roach could talk. See how many they could get out of him.

Ghost yanked him to his chest and shoved all the way in as he came inside him. Soap finished one last time, barely lucid anymore. He tried to press down on him, get him even deeper. His body fluttered as he let out beautiful little whimpers.

Ghost put Soap over his shoulder and snatched up Roach who had just managed to grab their clothes. They were a bit heavy, but it wasn't difficult to carry them. Well, except for Roach squirming and insisting he get them both dressed. He did not, instead bringing them to his room. He curled around the two of them, tucking them both into him and dragging Roach back when he tried to get out of bed to get dressed.

"No."

Roach sighed and put his head on Ghost's chest. "Fine. Fine. You're lucky no one saw us."

Ghost didn't mention the cameras. He'd just delete the footage in the morning.

[writingoddess1125]

The Canary

Me and stupid shit again

Support on Ko-Fi, I'm poor

"Ah, 50k in debt for a linguistic degree you didnt get while working at a grocery store- Can't get any better then that!"

You had said that morning- Your sarcasm rolling off your tongue like a goddammit curse as you headed off to work.

And yet here you are now...

Your ass tied up on the floor of the grocery store while men armed to the teeth walked around talking- you felt oddly fortunate however, these guys were clearly grunts at the bottom of the food chain in terms of 'bad guys' hell they were speaking a language you had studied so you could pick up what they were saying as well.

You had been in the meat section when the explosion went off- The cow statue having saved your ass from being turned into a tube of ground beef, but now you were a hostage..

Greaattt.

"Hamil told us we needed the hostages, 6 of them exactly for this while they set up the explosives down the block.. we just gotta wait for the signal" The man said in the different language. You taking mental note of this-

You spot a little girl and her mother among your fellow hostages, your heart breaking at rhe sight as you saw the man approach her. Her mother clearly trying to undo her child's rope and get her to slip away down the aisle. However pausing when one of the men approached her and the girl.

"Hamil said Makarov gave us the clear so we could do as we pleased as we wait right?" The man said, one of his peers rolling his eyes in disgust and calling him dirty.

"Whatever we got some time to kill" He grumbled, beginning to undo his belt as he grabbed the screaming mother who was trying to shield her daughter away from the possible assault. You sitting up fully at this point and your brain going on autopilot.

"Woah Woah Woah Man! Got that weak of game you have to rape some Mom now?!" You yelled, the man pausing his actions. Tossing the sobbing women away from him and marching to you angrily fixing his belt-

"What did you say?" He hissed angrily flashing his gun at you. "I'll fuck your mother how about that-"

He said angrily, You took note of all the men now staring at you and not at the other hostages- Keeping them distracted... maybe enough for the little girl to slip away?

"I've already fucked your mom asshole- I have her saved as slip and slide on my phone" You say with a crooked grin- A few of the men snickering at your joke, Oh Fuck Yeah!

"What did you say!? Do you not see the situation you're in now?" He growled.

"Aww can't take a joke big guy? Come one gotta lighten it up somehow-" You see in your peripherals the girl slipping away as you chattered.

"Got a big mouth huh? Why don't we put it to use?" He chimed, you really wanting to turn this guy away from molesting you or anyone else.

"Listen it would be a waste of space- like if you throw a hotdog in a cave" You chimed, smiling as he looked ready to rip you apart but instead punched you across the face. OWWW!!

"Is it BDSM tuesday?.. Eh not doing it for me though big guy maybe rub your nipples and give me a wink?" You say, His friend who had called his dirty giving a hearty laugh at this.

The man glared down at you and spit in your face, clearly wanting to kill you in some way but needed you and the others for their plan. You pretended to taste it like a fine wine, Looking him in the eye.

"Oh?~ Cock flavored spit?- New Age?" You chimed making the man face red as a tomato in rage as his mate to the left laughed.

"Was this a little self yoga or did Unicorn overthrew give a hand?"

He smacked you with his pistol making you cry out-

Fuck that hurt!!

You defiently had a cracked bone somewhere in your face and the fresh taste of blood in your mouth didn't exactly help those feelings.

"Say something smart now!" He yelled angrily.

"A pistol whip!? What is this 1995? Give your balls a tug you tit fucker! Or are they so shriveled up you can't grab them?" You say with a smile, the man grabbing your collar and pressing the gun to your temple.

"I no longer care what Hamil wants! I'm killing this little bastard!" He screamed, you wincing at his breath.

"You can't! I don't want Makarov on my ass!" His peer yelled ready to pry him off you.

"Just put a sock in their mouth or something if they are bitching that much!"

"Well if you're gonna kill me so close a breath mint would be nice? You do realize Tiktacs aren't just a penis size right?" You chuckle nervously, you eyes catching a shadow moving behind the men now all staring at you. Their backs turned to the shadows.

"You know what- I'll shut up after one last joke? Eh?" You say nervously, The man yous been tormenting cocking his gun- you see a man silently stalk out, a skull mask covering his face as 4 others moved in perfect formation behind him.

"No more fucking jokes!" He yells, rage in his eyes.

"Okay- But I tried" You say cheerfully before closing your eyes. In seconds gunfire went off around you and quick screams surrounded you.

"Clear!" You hear sounded as you crack open your eye to take a peak.

"Holy fuck-" You sigh out and give a nervous laugh. Looking at the dead men now littering the ground as the soilders file into the area quickly-

The guy in the skullmask- The one who you spotted getting into position behind the guys comes to you and undoes the rope around your wrist in record time as the other men do the same to your fellow hostages.

"A medic will be here soon to check over your injuries" He said in a surprisingly deep voice- accident not lost on your either. He reached a hand down to either help you up or pick you up to extract you from the area.

You grab the man's vest quickly to stop him before he could, He stares at you hard in confusion.

"Listen, Those guys said that there were bombs down the block and were waiting for a signal. They have others- I can understand them and thwy said they followed someone name Hamil who talks to Makarov... I-Im a linguists and um.. can understand them" You say quickly, The masked man narrows his eyes at this and speaks into a radio on his side.

"We have info that more bombs are down the block- Scout the area and evacuate further" he said as he went back to helping you up. A quick thanks leaving your lips as you pulled off your work hoodie and passed it to the mother to cover her up.

The men escorting you out of the grocery store.

"Got to say, never seen a Canary get the best of those guys-" The Mohawk guy said with a smirk on his face, supporting a old man who clearly had a broken foot.

"Gotta use my gifts somehow- and Canary?" You shot back,

"Always fuckin' churpin" He said with a smile. A laugh now coming from you as you nod. Once outside the medics quickly swarmed all of you and prepared to take you all to the hospital.

You spot the masked guy again- Giving him a head nod. "Thank you Mr. Spooky!" You call out rather loudly- earning a amused glare from the man who rolled his eyes.

"....Your quips- Were... quite amusing.." He said calmly, You looking at the hardened man with a smile on your busted face- The others in his little boy band also cracking some smirks as they walked off finishing their jobs- which you assumed was down the block.

You give a bow of your head in a mildly dramatic flare. Wanting a shot and a nap at this point as the

"Glad my show went well"

Bonus!

- The little girl got out and went to the police that were waiting outside- explaining what you were doing and immediately getting checked over by medica

- TK141 had actually gotten to your location a little earlier then when you saw. However Soap had to stop everyone since he almost fell out at the cock flavored spit take.

- The whole team had been laughing on the inside or holding back laughter the whole time they heard you chirping at the men holding you hostage.

- The Nickname 'Mr. Spooky' will follow poor Ghost for the next few months-

[imdoingsortagay]

Mastermind

Summary: You can see the way she wants to just let go and give up control, so you form a plan with your girlfriend to do just that

a/n: Here comes your Valcarol x reader brainrot homos

Warnings: Dom! Valkyrie, Sub!Carol, Switch!R, petnames, strap on use, Carol in subspace ? ( yeth)

Word count: 1.6k words

Smut below the cut ! 18+

Both of you could tell the moment that Danvers arrived to New Asgard that she wanted to just let go of all of the stress she was dealing with.

Wanted to just let someone let the reigns but a part of her didn't trust anyone enough to do it. There was a tiny moment between your girlfriend and Carol when Valkyrie had teased her a bit with a pet names.

Most time she'd just brush it off and make some joke back at your girlfriend but for a split second you could see the blonde react to that silly pet name.

" Aye Danvers," Valkyrie says," Everything alright?"

" Yep yep all good," she just says before heading into the guestroom for the rest of the night, leaving just you confused while Val just continues on with finishing the rest of her drink. One part of you wants to question Carol but the other just wants to let her have space to think over things.

You think it over and decide to just as Val.

" Did you see the way Carol reacted to you calling her princess?" You ask with curiosity as she heads into the kitchen to get herself another drink. She wasn't the type of person to do stuff like this, if Danvers needed space then of course she was gonna do just that.

" Honey i think Danvers just needs time to destress," She explains," it hasn't been a relaxing couple of years for the blonde ya know? the best we could do is give her time to relax and if she wants to talk about it, well she knows she can".

" Babe," you pause," this is Carol Danvers we are talking about. The big tough superhero who reacted to you calling her princess of all things. And she didn't make any jokes".

" Hmmm," your girlfriend says to herself," what's your plan"?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A part of you was unsure as to whether this plan would work with the blonde. She's been staying with the both of you for a couple weeks but her routine doesn't seem to change.

Being the lovely girlfriend she is, Val did most of the work when observing her friends routine. From then you both would plan for the moment that Carol would " Catch you in the act"

" My darling ready for daddy?"

The door to your bedroom is halfway open, just enough for Carol to see the both of you. Val is completely naked besides the strap on with the fake cock around her hips, a favorite one from your collection of sex toys.

" Cmon love," she tells you," use that dirty mouth on daddys cock now".

You waste no time the moment she stands in front of you as you kneel for her, grabbing the fake cock as you start off slow and sensual for her. While the woman above you can't really feel your mouth, it drove her crazy seeing the way that you suck on the cock.

" Cmon darling, Daddy needs that cock to be nice and wet when it goes in your cunt" and right on time when Carol comes back from her midday workout with Thor. Both of you don't hear the door open but Carol can definitely hear the noises you're making in the bedroom.

Working out seemed to distract her from the feeling she got when Valkyrie had made the princess joke. Seeing how dominant her friend was with you had honestly made her a bit jealous, if she had to be honest with herself.

All the one night stands all over the universe didn't help either, just made her want someone she can hand over control to.

Someone who can comfort her, let her be herself instead of the mighty Captain Marvel.

" Fuck your cock tastes so good daddy," Carol is snapped out of her thoughts at the line and she feels her mind going fuzzy. It would be the right thing of the blonde to just quickly walk by to her room but the door is also open so she has to be strategic.

" Be good for daddy then darling and take the rest of me in my mouth," the blonde can hear her friend say.

Curiosity gets the best of her and she slowly peaks through the door to see Valkyrie, very close friend and King of New Asgard fully naked while her girlfriend is also very naked sucking on the fake cock between her legs like it's their dayjob.

" Fuck," she whispers to herself, mind going fuzzy at the thought of suck on the toy along side you.

Forgetting that she was supposed to be hiding from the both of you.

“ imagine if someone saw you sucking my cock baby ? Seeing you act like such a whore for daddy on your knees”.

After years of being with Valkyrie, you knew that she heard Carol walk through the door instantly. Sneaking around the house to surprise or even scare her was something you've gotten used to not being able to do. Carol must be close to your room if Val was talking more while you were sucking her off.

" Daddy," you moan out as you take her out of your mouth," can you fuck me nowwwww?".

" Well be patient now baby," she tells you, " how about you show our special guest here some manners ?".

Carol's thoughts of the two of you are interrupted when she's met with her best friend standing next to her, no shame in being naked in front of you. Neither of them exchange words when Val takes out her hand for Carol to grab and she's led into the bedroom.

" Did you want to join us, Carol?"

The blonde hears you ask and so many thoughts go through her mind at the opportunity to sleep with both of you.

On one part, she can trust both of you and on the other, she's lost so many people close to her that she wouldn't want to ruin the friendship she has with you both. Knowing that if that were gone, there would be nobody else there for her.

" Oh princess," she hears you say, unaware of when you had put on a robe as you scoop her into a hug," Carol don't cry now ".

Val hugs her friend as well, while she might not be able to talk to Carol about her feelings at least she can give her some physical comfort.

" Honey, you know us well enough not to hurt you," Val pauses," not after all you've been through princess. You deserve someone who you can be yourself with and not the big badass superhero everyone knows you as".

" If you allow us Carol," you continue," me and Valkyrie will treat you like the pretty princess you are".

Val giggles when Carol nods, deciding to change the plans last minute to focus more on the blonde and show her just how important she is.

“ Be a good princess and strip for us,” Val orders Carol. The blonde follows the command quickly, like an eager puppy.

“ get on the middle of the bed “, Val says,” baby I want you to eat our princess out so she’s ready for my cock”.

You start of slow with Carol , leaving kisses between her thighs as a mean to not take things quickly. All Carol can do is whine and makes the prettiest noises as you leave kisses all over her thighs.

“ Must have not been fucking in space if you’re already wet from me kissing your thighs baby,” you mumbled and before Carol can respond, you slowly start to go at her folds.

“ no I was but I-“ All Carol can do is moan when you start to rub at her clit, mine starting to go fuzzy while you go down on her. While she did fuck in space there was nobody who seemed to make her feel good , until now.

“ Make her cum baby,” and without a second to waste you enter Carols pussy with one finger. You groan as she lets out the cutest moan when you enter her with one finger , she’s gonna be completely different once your girlfriend fucks her with the toy between her legs.

“ can I have another one -“

“ what was that princess?” Val interruptes Carol as you slowly finger her and continue to lick at her wet cunt.

“ Daddy,” she moans out ,” need more in my pussy , wanna be good for the both of you".

" this is gonna be a good night".

The Next Morning

When Carol has woken up, she didn't expect the both of you to let her sleep in her room, expecting that Valkyrie would carry her back to where she was staying.

If she had to be honest, she really liked being in the middle of you too. Had been years that Carol had been held, been treated like anything other than an Avenger, or an enemy to some people.

" What time is it?" Val says as she wakes up which starles Carol, assuming she'd still be asleep. The noise wakes also wakes you up and you groan your annoyance as you got to check your phone.

" 11am baby," you say in an annoyed tone," i'm gonna go back to sleep with Carol".

" What if our princess doesn't want to go back to sleep?"

" She wants to sleep babe not go out and workout so early on a sunday," you turn a bit to look at Carol," Am i right baby?".

" m gonna stay with y/n," Carol mumbles as you happy scoop up the blonde in your arms to get more sleep.

" Always a brat," Val chuckles as she gets up to get to working out, never one to miss a day .

Carol could get used to being with the two of you if it meant soft moment like this.

[maybanksx]

LOW BLOW | JJ MAYBANK.

routledge!reader x jj maybank. bonfire moments and jj being the little shit he is!

"john b's such a cockblock." she huffed, bending her knees and almost falling into the, already, cold sand. as annoyed as she could've looked, her eyes still held a some sort of hope, the night wasn't over yet.

"he's at it again?" kie plopped down, right next to her best friend, crossed-leg and a blunt between her fingers, furrowing her eyebrows.

"he didn't even say anything this time-" she groaned, hiding her face through her hands, the whole bunch of friendship bracelets covering her wrists. "the death glare was enough to not let anyone come closer." she heard the brown haired girl giggle, already high enough to be feeling good about everything, but still fast enough to notice when y/n pointed at a figure, that was close enough all this time, and heard all of the small talk they were having. "and that's almost your fault as well!"

it was easy enough to recognize him in the crowd. the dirty blonde hair - already messed up from the hat- the kildare used shirt and no shoes. jj was hearing, with a shit eating grin on his face, and two red cups in his hands.

the boy sat right next to both of them. handing y/n one cup of the cheap beer they had at the keg, which led to her taking a sip, before passing the cup to kiara, who did the same, and handed right back to the other girl.

"goody-goody can't end up hooking up with some random touron.." it was jj time to speak. the teasing, almost cheerful tone was loud enough for anyone paying attention to hear. gladly they were at a pretty busy bonfire, and everyone was intoxicated enough to not care. "y'know, y/n/n, your brother would've killed me if i didn't do anything, and c'mon, what if they're like, waiting to kidnap you, or worst, they might have a std and - ouch!"

the girl's elbow poked right through the blonde boy's ribs, letting him take a hand to the spot, forming a big pout on his face. kie giggled. "that's so disgusting, don't say it like that." the grimace on her face made the young routledge forget the whole hooking up night in a second.

"low blow, dove." he was still rubbing his ribs. y/n simply smiled.

jj got lost in it for a second. it was all he could do and no one should blame him for it. the way she did it, delicate and smooth, genuine, without a care in the world, made something inside the maybank boy feel different. anxious, almost excited, but different.

he was joking, soft hearted and all, and she knew it. it was a regular thing between them, the teasing and making fun, never crossing any lines, but still, y/n being the y/n the pogues knew, mumbled a tiny "sorry". if she bumped into a door, she would've say sorry, so even though it was on purpose, she still apologized.

"i know you guys are worried, but i just-" y/n sighed, leaning her head on top of her palm, shoulders falling down. she wasn't truly upset, a little disappointed at herself, maybe. "i wish i could do it just like you guys do."

jj would be lying if he said it didn't feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction to almost kill that boy with his eyes. probably a touron, wearing sunglasses - even in the evening, which was a stupid move - and a confident grin, that tried to make him look like he owned the island, but to jj it was exactly the opposite. the floral shirt and the way he was looking at his best friend's sister's ass was making his blood boil. and still, the last thing he wanted was to make her feel blue about herself.

"all right, c'mon." he stood up, patting his pair of shorts, taking part of the sand out. "you ladies should quit moping and try to defy me, and my incredible pong performance."

"not a chance." kie answers first, taking another drag of her blunt - little braids covering her forehead and face, that was already flushed - shaking her head right after. "i'm alright."

"okay, we lost the first one." the ocean blue eyes took the direction they've been wanting to take all night. raising one of his hands, so y/n could took it. "dove, how does that sound to you?"

the girl pretended to think about it. the way her face scrunched, just like her brother's - and exactly like big john, or what jj remembers of it - before letting her head fall softly to the side, accepting his hand to get up.

"you ready to lose, maybank?" she said, crossing her arms, while walking through the beach where the improvised pong table was, holding in her laugh as long as she could.

"you're the light-headed one!" he defended himself, catching up to her, following right by her side. "two cups and you're already dizzy, if anything, i'm the one winning tonight."

"shut up."

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

You stare at your old nokia phone as the ambulance ride goes. You hear the nurses wrapping proper bandages around Kissy's scratched arm, the big toy trying to be as calm as possible. Poppy encouraged her, clapping her tiny hands to signal that Kissy did an excellent job. You smiled and nodded, trying to ignore the police chief sitting right next to you.

He was quietly reading the documentation you brought from the deeper parts of Playtime Co. You thought about thanking the Prototype for coming up with the idea, then went back to staring at your phone.

Finally, you dialed your mother's number, each beep making you more anxious than the last. Then, finally...

"MY SWEET ANGEL!", she screamed in portuguese in the other side of the line. "Where have you been?! You dissapeared for a whole week, what happened?"

Poppy stared at you, hearing your mother's screams.

"Well, mom...", you muttered, also in portuguese. "It's, uh... Complicated".

"Oh, I bet it is! Where have you been?"

You made a funny face, nervous. "Remember when I worked at Playtime Co...? I received a letter and, uh, decided to visit the factory. Got trapped inside".

"For a week?"

"For a week", you confirm. "... You said you wanted grandchildren, right?"

"What does that have to do with this? Are you hurt? Where are you?"

"Mom, answer the question".

You could feel her rolling her eyes in the other line: "You know well I do, but your brother already gave us two".

"Well, I have good news regarding that", Poppy's eyes went wide and she blinked. You simply stared at her and tried to give her the best of your smiles: "I adopted some kids".

"What?"

"What do you think about 80 grandkids? Is that enough?"

"Stop making jokes, boy! I'm your mother! W-where are you?"

"Why don't you go to the hospital? I'm heading there. I'm in an ambulance right at the moment, some of the kids are really hurt and need urgent care, and I'm the only adult they have. Guess I'll also need some patching up as well...".

"There were children inside the factory?"

"A fucking lot", you agree. "They're mine now".

Poppy's eyes started to become teary. The chief right next to you gave you a strange look before re-reading the document in his hands, baffled. Maybe he was going to vomit again? Or maybe he thought you were going mad. It didn't matter much now.

"... Angel", your mother called. "What were they doing there?"

"They were abandoned. Left to die. I think most of them were starving before I arrived", you continued. "They're pretty hurt. I know one is going to have urgent surgery. I don't know how much I can tell you, the cops are also here and I, uhm, don't know what needs to be kept a secret or not. Can you and dad just please come over the hospital and help me a bit?"

Your voice was weak, and you stopped looking at Poppy as reality sank around you. God, they were all just children. Your kids now, you guessed, but you would rather have never met them if it meant they would have never become toys in the first place.

"We're already heading over there", your mother firmly told you. "You hang in there, I'm calling your brother and aunt".

"Let me call him", you asked. "You call aunt before she kills me for dissapearing".

"Okay".

You waited. Your mom did as well.

"Are you alright?", she finally asked, again. You stare at your dirty and bloody hands.

"I didn't lose any body parts, if that's what you want to know", you reassure her. "I'm just tired, hungry and dirty. Could have been worse".

"I'm glad it's not", you could hear someone else in the line. Your mother sighed. "We'll talk more later, okay? I love you. Please don't die while we're on our way there".

"Can't promise that".

"Angel".

"Fine, mom. An ugly vase is hard to break, remember? See you soon. Bye".

You put your phone aside. Poppy's gaze had never left you, and now Kissy was waiting for what you were going to say as well. The two nurses were still working on patching her up as you gently put Poppy on your lap.

"Angel", she called. "Did you just refer to us as your children?"

"I wasn't lying", you quickly answer. "And didn't you just call me dad a few moments ago?"

"I-I... I did".

The doll gives you a hug, and you give one back before gently swiping off the tears forming in the corners of her too-realistic eyes. "Look, Pop, I'm never going to be a good parent for either one of you. I'm all grumpy and hopeless, and you need better than that. But I did promise I would do my best, and that's what I'll try to do. You don't have to pretend to be my daughter, anyways. I'll just be your legal guardian".

"...", was her response, before she readjusted herself to be more comfy on your lap. "I think I prefer having you as my parent rather than just a guardian, Angel. But it's not fair. I already took too many of your choices away from you, I-I don't want this to just be another one of them".

"Shoosh, Pop", you pat her head. "I made that choice long before you tried to stop me from talking to the Prototype. I'll be here to bother you and the others for as long as possible".

Poppy giggled, closing her still teary eyes.

"I'm glad, then", she mutters, ignoring the confused cop sitting next to you. "That you chose to be our... Parent".

You smile, and she understands you're glad as well.

"Now, go to back to sleep. I'll wake you up when we arrive at the hospital", you eye Kissy. "Or if your sister needs some encouragement".

The bigger toy's smile seems to be genuine.

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader) part iii

tags: angst, fluff, arguments, period typical misogyny (of course not from obi wan), just overall wealthy pricks being little shits, the trope of THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, but not really, do you believe in second chances (i don't) (💀), little smut compared to the rest because originally there was no smut in this (but i HAD TO use that idea), REPOST because i fucked up in the first place

a/n: welcome back for the finale!

well, i can't think of anything to say except this has been a blast for me, and i'm so happy that there are those who enjoys this madness as much as i do. hope you like the ending too. thank you all!

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can’t wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

part one | part two | part three

enjoy!!!

word count: 8.3K

chapter three: fuck it it's fine!

You don’t board that ship. A slight sickness you excuse, then spend your days sulking at home, still covered by the expanse of your lies. It is not totally untrue, though. You did really wake up with a swollen throat, and that put the integrity of your health during the journey at risk, thus with great grief, canceled the plans. Nobody knew that you’d not even mention the symptom on any other day, just requesting some honey tea and hardly noticing it disappear in the morrow. And it exactly worked out as predicted, more so, without leaving its discomfort for remorse. But after that, the hours stretched out each day, like you were living in a different plane where you were not welcomed. Perhaps you actually weren’t, for if you followed your fate, you’d be eating different foods, and walking foreign corridors. In an attempt to run away from that feeling, you try to socialize just a little, attending even the most dull tea parties. Also, your preference of company has to be specialized now, and that proves difficult sometimes.

So, that’s exactly why you indeed sulk at home, even though all your efforts.

But not tonight. 

Then again, perhaps you should've.

His presence has nothing to do with it, to be perfectly clear. On the contrary, he makes it a little endurable. The forced small talk and empty eyes you once feared dearly are not the case, even after your last encounter. Of course, there's a little awkwardness, an uncertainty about where the line of intimacy now stands, shadows of anger and disappointment still darkening the atmosphere, but the overall sensation comes down to longing. You both lost a great friendship, cast it aside in a blink, but your souls don't accept this new arrangement that quickly, trying to fall into the familiar rhythm once more each time you feel your walls break. You don't allow it, neither does he. Yet, it is about the only thing that turns this night into a not complete waste of time. Even a pleasant one, you'd dare say. 

If it weren't for literally everything else except this.

The hushed little uninformed jokes start during the dinner. It is the lord of the house that says them, to his close circle, barely hanging onto etiquette he had glimpses of. As minutes tick and glasses of wine roll, that glimpse is gone, and even in your seat at the end of the table, you hear him clearly. The pressed lips and masked mimics pretending not to be aware of it soon become apparent on every face, excluding you and Lord Kenobi. You glower the first time another of the guests feels confident enough to make his dirty contribution to the subject. Typical, you try to stay calm, tapping your fingers on the table. The world is filled with the likes of him, and the last thing they deserve is your attention. The reflex doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he sends a sympathetic smile, showing that you’re not alone and accepting this invitation was a most regretful choice. He uses a few retorts to close the deal, let the dinner continue in different matters- or in silence, that would be fantastic indeed, but his smart wit and slight intimidation work only for a couple of minutes. Now it’s your turn to reflect that sad smile, and you do.

The sadness doesn’t come from the circumstances around you all, though. Your heart feels heavy, for not trying better ways to handle that morning. That guilt will haunt you, drag you into the gloomy pit you’ve been in, and maybe, you should stay there for some time, a penance for your mistakes.  

After dinner, when the ladies and gentlemen huddle around different interests, you get a chance to cool off. The soft peals of laughter and giggles fill the room, a much more pleasant sound than the roar of men. You get to entertain others with your stories of other cities you’ve been to, and they tell their interesting incidents, and make fun of their husbands, people who deserve, as their commotion spills out of the walls. The topic of their conversation, marriage, diffuses out into your circle in such a way, that once again, you’re restraining yourself, trying to listen to the problems one of the ladies is complaining of, and not to hear the crude comments going on on the other side. You’re stopped from rushing out of your armchair simply out of respect you have for the woman speaking when you pick up your name passing in their remarks. Plus, Kenobi’s words, you don’t flatter me by offending the lady, reach every ear in the room, sharper than a knife. Your cheeks burn with anger, then with gratitude, and at last, out of embarrassment, because how are you going to explain he’s just doing an honorable thing, that it’s his character to defy ill minds when he sees one, and this has little to do with his “pursuit” of you? Your breaths are shallow and quick as you focus on the discourse, and dodge every attempt to pull the subject towards your relations.

Though, the snake doesn’t give up on eating, even his own tail, it seems.

In less than half an hour, a joke about abduction is whispered, and you surge from your armchair, the screeching sound echoing. You murmur what resembles to be an excuse (you’re still deciding whether they are worthy of one), and send one glaring gaze at the group, enough to make one flinch, and walk out.

Out of the entire house.

Lucky for you, this is a night in which you carpooled with another guest, meaning you only have your own feet to carry you away in this pouring rain.

But of course, that’s not enough to deter you.

You take big steps, enforced by your fury. Thus, the house leaves your sight in no time, but not their audacity, still ringing in your ears. Implications about your freedom. Complaints of wive-hood. Humor about how perfectly reasonable is to get rich, by kidnapping a young woman… (Honestly, after all that, you don’t have mercy for them of the panic they might experience when they realize their guest is not refreshing in another room, and have left the estate altogether. Alas, that guest is you.) You string curses at them, the only form of thinking you have in regard, and feel the bulk of emotions resonate with every stomp, even spilling out of your tear ducts. Your dampening body, and the length of the road don’t make it any easier, feeding your frustration. Your only anchor is your self worth, the reason you began this path in the first place, and you desperately hope it will turn the tide in a while.

Though now, the picture you paint with those foul words and wet clothes isn’t exactly the brightest.

It is still among these moods, that Obi Wan catches up to you. You’re not exactly surprised to see him, his carriage closing the twenty minute distance you put between yourself and that damned house with a speed that you think can’t be that good for the horses in the long run. They stop abruptly at your side, and you have all those insults readied if it turns out to be that fucked up man or polite declines if it is indeed Obi Wan. 

But, you can’t speak them. The world feels like it freezes, the raindrops slowing down, and carrying away your burdens as they fall to the soil. The small door opens, and Obi Wan rushes out of it, with an expression that is so honest and raw. His fright vanishes at the sight of you, that scared gaze dissolving, eyebrows relaxing… You can actually see his lips move, Thank God. He is totally undisturbed by the downpour, already making his strands stick to his forehead. His hands find yours, and pull you close, almost like an embrace. You look into his eyes, how focused they are on you, as if they could burn you from the inside with their intensity. You have an undeniable urge to kiss him right now, and that has nothing to do with lust, but your wish to undo the last couple of weeks, uphold that strong connection once the two you had. Of course, you don’t, you can’t, thus, you let him lead you inside, and continue towards whatever destination.

Funny, how you feel much calmer doing the thing you thought you wouldn’t. Moreso, you have no woes about it either.

The silence is deafening, but nobody dares to open their mouth, the greatness of the storm of emotions you both are having too heavy on your tongues. He puts his less soggy jacket around your shoulders, you welcome it with a nod. That’s the moment you realize the redness on his knuckles. It’s not hard to guess the scene, and that has your head turned to the floor, processing the entire night. It is also at this moment that you become aware of your fresh tears, still sliding over your cheeks. Even if he notices them, he doesn’t do a thing about it, an indifference you’re grateful for. He just looks out of the window, and contemplates, same as you.

===

The tub filled with hot water doesn’t make you any wetter, but it helps with the temperature. You’re sorry that you exhausted the owners of the inn you had to stay in, (for it was getting impossible to travel in that rain) with this request, but a voice tells you that Obi Wan wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re unbelievably silent as he sorts it all out, staying in your bubble, unintentionally playing the part of the damsel in distress. You listen to his list of requests, for the horses, for three rooms (the best reserved for the lady, he insists), a tub to be prepared for you, and some tea-

“No need.” Your voice is weak, but it is clear. He would’ve protested this answer, but it is the first time you’ve talked after leaving the house, how ironic, and the realization sets deep in both of you. After that, you feel the words pile up on your tongue, but in a blink, you find yourself in a room. Alone.

“So sorry, I thought they gave me this room.” He stands at the door, holding it half open, face turned in the opposite direction.

“Obi Wan.” His gaze hesitantly finds your way again. God, he’s about to kill you with that blues… “Can we talk for a second?”

You name yourself a hypocrite for asking that, in this state, but you can’t breathe with all that untold things if you spend another second without explaining yourself to him, and apologize for all the trouble you’ve caused. And, isn’t this already proof of the trust you have for him, how vulnerable you can be in his presence?

And, there’s nothing he’s not seen before, after all.

He gingerly closes the door, locking it in a swift motion, and makes his way to you. You pull yourself together, and reach for his hand for him to help you out.

“No, stay. Your fingers are still cold.”

You can’t hide the small smile forming on your face as you settle back, careful to keep most of your body underwater. He, ever noble, keeps his eyes straight on your face, which somehow doesn’t help. There’s something about his rolled-up sleeves, the matching three-piece suit down to two for the damp jacket sits behind the chair in your back against the fireplace. His hair is drying up in all defiant shapes, and you have to stop imagining that morning he woke up next to you.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. I- I never intended to cause this big of a mess, and make someone clean up after me. Certainly, not you, of all people. You shouldn’t have tired yourself this much, and I’m sorry for it.”

“You can’t expect me to do nothing.” The sentence begs for a dear to be added in the end, and he has to fight his throat to silence himself. Instead, there’s a kind tug at the corners of his lips.

“You’re right.” You nod. “But the truth is, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I needed to get out, I just couldn’t sit there pretend I didn’t hear all those nasty comments.”

His fist clenches at the reminder, and you once again spot the bruises settling in on his knuckles, filling with the desire to mention them, but you inevitably decide not to. “That asshole-“

”He was obnoxious since the first hour, and loud, but that doesn't scare me, for thus he has proven himself to be just a foul mouthed man. But, that title started not to cover the extent of it- it was too much and I couldn’t take it anymore. You may say it was obvious from the start, but I tried my best to not evolve this into a thing I would regret afterward. And I succeeded.”

“So you don't even regret ever setting foot in that house?”

A tinge of disgust seizes your face, but only for a moment. Even with all those words echoing in your ear, you don't have hatred in your heart, or any remorse. You're not so quite sure about its reason, nor do you wish to be, avoiding all analysis. Like you don't know the basics already. But the sudden change in your expression tells everything. “I don’t think I can ever regret it. At least, not in its entirety.” You say, hugging your knees and lowering your head. Hot steam no longer hits your skin, you realize in your attempts of distraction.

There's a second of silence in the room, despite the thunderstorm raging outside. You are as cold as in the beginning because of it, and you almost contemplate how good of an idea this conversation was, especially under these circumstances.

“I’d say the same.” Obi Wan speaks, and that's when goosebumps rise on your skin. Your eyes meet his, then flutter away quickly, overwhelmed. Does he mean-

Why is him meaning that any different than yours, huh? Why is it any worse when he says it?

“You should get out of there.” He reaches for a towel, and you shyly stand up, turning your back and pressing your arms around yourself. Nothing he hasn't seen before, right? As the coarse fabric is draped around your shoulders, you can’t help but feel afire, the imprint of his hand around your shoulders for a second lingering way more than it should, creating a tingling sensation.

“Thank you.”

“Well, I must return to my room now.” He folds his hands together, like trying to preserve where they’ve touched, and his eyes still stay respectfully up, causing your heart to lose its rhythm. There has never been a scenario that involved nakedness without… sexual intentions, and clearly, it’s not even crossing your minds right now. Your awareness of it takes up all the space in your mind, tosses every other idea out, and leaves you at the mercy of your soul.

“Obi Wan.” Fuck, the way you call his name, it is bound to weaken him every time. “Can you-” Oh, haven't you demanded enough from him? “I- I would like it if you stayed.”

His mouth hangs open for a second, with a subtle sharp inhale. His fingers tighten around each other, then relax all together, hanging free by his side. “Of course.” For all the words that come to his lips, it’s a most simple answer.

Not that you have any complaints.

You’re filled with another kind of thrill, being this open with your wishes, but having no clue whether they’ll take the night, having no clue where you want the night to go, or how to act in this very moment, half covered.  You just know that you prefer him, being in the same chamber as you. You’d prefer to listen to his idle talk or slow breaths, than the silence of the room. You’d prefer him to snore in your bed than to picture him in his own, lying awake. (Because let’s face it, it’d take a while for him to surrender to sleep, if left to his own devices.)

He takes a step towards the armchair, unbuttoning his vest and you come back to your senses, stepping out of the tub in the opposite direction, towards the nightgown the innkeeper gracefully lent to you. It’s slightly large for your body, definitely not tailored for someone close to your size, but if Obi Wan ever heard you commenting on the fact, he’d wholeheartedly claim you still looked like an angel. Since you don’t, he doesn’t too, but it’s obvious in the way he takes in your form, a battle of excess fabric against your movements. He has to bury a groan when your sleeve falls down your shoulder, a simple accident. He knows that shouldn’t have been seen by him, or you didn’t do it on purpose, that tonight is not meant for those activities, and it shouldn’t get him so bothered up, but it fucking does. Does it also make him want to slap himself? Yes.

Walking near the fireplace, you wring the excess water from your hair and run your fingers through the strands before rubbing that towel aggressively, for the fact that it is already soggy enough, and is not gonna do much. You despise sleeping with wet hair, it is an invitation for you to get sick, not to mention that you’ll be sharing the bed, leaving frustrating streaks of wetness on the sheets for them.

“Hey, hey, let me help you.” Is he a little bit scared? The answer is another yes. But he’s not gonna stand there and watch you fight with your hair. He takes the fabric, locating the most usable spots, and slowly massages your strands with them. Objectively, it’s not a lot different in terms of overall results, but it does more than that anyway. Despite the forbidden intimacy, despite the question of “How is he so good at it?”, you’re lulled by the constant movements, the tension in your muscles easing off. He keeps you by the fire longer than you would’ve stayed, and that achievement belongs solely to him. Frankly, he too is not sure how long the two of you could stand like that, or put an end to it. All that matters is that your hair is pleasantly damp, less bothersome, and he did that.

To be honest, with each minute he is in your presence; the task of holding onto his manners, respecting his broken heart, and following your lead is getting harder to manage.

“Thank you.” You murmur, eyelids barely held open, and he feels like a juggler, suddenly losing his sense of balance, and dropping one of his props.

“You’re welcome.” Perhaps he was the one to thank, for the pleasure. That’s the second prop, falling down.

Still, it’s obvious how that sentence misses a darling thrown out after it.

You climb the bed, and he follows suit. You both favor the edges of the mattress, and there’s a ridiculous distance between both of your bodies, but you’re both too timid to use it, even at the risk of tumbling down.

Only after the urge to find a better position kicks in that you move, and end up just a little closer, face turned to his side.

He’s already turned to you, eyes closed but definitely not trying to sleep, or relax if nothing. He opens them of course, after you rustled the sheets that hard.

“What if I get sick tomorrow?” Admittedly, that’s a silly question, but the scenario occupies your mind. All the elemental factors are present, and you only have a formal dress on your back. Also, the fact that it would be all your fault, yet you are the one to complain? You hate yourself for saying it out loud.

“Then we would stay ‘til you got better.” His point-of-fact words, softened with his bedtime voice, must be annoying. Must be. It is not. It is the raw truth, straight from his core. You won’t disrespect it, (again). “I would take care of you.”

(Doesn’t he, always?)

 A shiver runs down your spine.

(He’d name this place heaven, if it allowed you two to stay together a little longer.)

“Obi Wan.” Whispering, trying your best to break that ugly silence, not to crush under the weight of his words, but more importantly to let him know your truths, the alignment of your soul. “I- I never told you how much I appreciated you. Now just today, but especially today.”

He’s trying so hard not to sound rude, or leave you unanswered, but none of them are good enough. Thankfully, you are not expecting one. Your fingers ghost over his knuckles, afraid to hurt him. he’s not even sure you’re doing that, ‘til you hunch over, and press a small kiss over them.

That’s all the acknowledgment he needs, ever. It wasn’t becoming of a gentleman, obviously, but the situation didn’t require gentleman-cy, too. He has no recollection of how his fist ended up in that man’s eye, except for the exact second it happened, feeling his shirt slide from his other hand as the impact sizzled through his bones, and sent the man to the floor. He found himself in the middle of saying God knows what- he still doesn’t have a single clue, and thinks about the possibility of how they’ll resonate, ‘til it reaches his ears once again.

Though, he has no fear regarding that, or the altercation before it. Nor regret.

“I am honored that our names are spoken together, a testament of our likeness.”

The third prop.

It falls, most obviously, but he doesn’t show it. Not under these circumstances. No matter how you try to avoid the subject of love, or a future, he’s burning for it, burning for you. In that moment, it is settled that it’ll always be that way, forever. You’re absolutely crushing his heart, and maybe even crush yours in the process (for which reasons, he’s never sure), regardless of your intentions pointing otherwise, because he knows you’re pushing through your struggles to speak up, select the appropriate expressions, to honor your past. He’s touched by your effort, as well as your words, oh, your words… This is the only compliment he’ll ever accept, and it’s not even meant to be a compliment. Your voice is already etched into his brain, and there will not go a single day he’s not reminiscing about it.

Thus, with such strong emotions, his every muscle twitched with the desire to pull you closer, wrap his arm around your waist, card his fingers through your cool hair as your lips meet. He wants to kiss you slowly, savor your taste and caress your tongue with his, for the sole purpose of being close to you. You, throwing one leg over him… You, falling asleep in his arms as he gets to bathe in your enchanting scent… The feeling of your warm breath against his neck as you take refuge in there… He’s surprised he doesn’t have to chain himself not to act on any of these images.

(Oh, it very much feels like he has done that anyway)

Yet, it is probably the worst night to do so. It has all been too much, and all this on top of that is a recipe for disaster. A disaster he’s been struck with nonetheless, though, perhaps he can spare you from.

When it comes to you, he has always put his heart before his mind, (but never disregarding the latter part. It is the essential element to keep both of you safe, to never compromise your social statuses, to create the optimum atmosphere for your relationship to flourish (by your own unusual standards)). For the first time, he’s not following that code. Even he can’t imagine the consequences if he doesn’t.

You’re glad that nothing has changed. No response from him, no action. His relaxed expression tells you enough; the calmness of his eyes, his slow breaths and the slight curve of his lips… To be honest, you’re relieved to see your words reach their destination but also set with the urge to prove them. To press down your mouth on his, from which you hope for an answer; to hold his hand without causing any discomfort, or simply hug him for a second, eliminating all space between your bodies like your souls.

Alas, the role of the hypocrite is a part you no longer wish to play, and you’re perfectly willing to hurt yourself by not succumbing to your wishes, and refrain him from further confusion.

“Good night, Obi Wan.” You say, fingers grazing over his for the last time, and curl yourself into a ball.

“Good night, my dearest.”

 ===

The morning is unlike the previous example.

You wake up to him getting up, so there’s no way for you to know if your bodies drifted closer during the night, but considering the position of your arm, extended way beyond the middle, it is quite possible to assume some physical contact was present.

Considering you two are not facing each other, thus acknowledgment of the situation is not a matter, your embarrassment is half of what it should be.

Though, your cheeks burn brighter each second you can’t peel your eyes off of him, filling up the rest of that cup. Watching him walk around, the movement of each chiseled muscle on his back as he puts his shirt and trousers on quickly highlights another impropriety. He is perfection, even in that drowsy state of the human condition, there’s harmony to his every motion, the slow steps he takes, the way the fabric glides against his skin, the subtle fine arrangements of his fingers to make sure it looks decent, even how he breathes causes him to blend into the room, but also bedazzle it in his grace, make him stand out like a crown jewel, a masterpiece of arts that name the place.

You can only stop your ogling once he leans in and stirs the flames, which were already going strong since they were last fed before you went to sleep- wait, that doesn’t seem possible, did he actually sever his sleep to tend to it?

Is there any other explanation you need?

Your heart may flutter out of your chest after this realization, so you skirt out of the blankets. Of course, the sound draws his attention, and you’re caught, forced to react.

Yet, the unstoppable smile forming on his lips inspires a similar response on yours so easily, so naturally that you don’t feel obligated at all. On the quite contrary, that simple mimic banishes any pretense, showering you with reassurance and bravery, the motivation to act on your own true terms, not society’s or the ones you pressured onto yourself.

“Good morning.” The simultaneous greeting pulls a giggle from both of you, and it is all so small, yet so much. You sway away from his direction, casually reaching for your clothes, hoping he doesn’t notice the tremor of your legs when you shed the nightwear and put the chemise on. Because you know, he’s watching you. Divine justice, perhaps.

“Be careful, Obi Wan, I might start to think you enjoy watching me get dressed too much.” The snarky comment, fighting its way out of your mouth further softens the atmosphere, and it is like the first days of spring after a harsh winter, soothing your souls with relief.

“Guilty as charged.”

You shake your head, consumed by his usual forward banter. A scene taken straight out of your past. You shimmy into your dress instead of coming up with a cleverer response.

“You don’t sound sick.” He says, indicating that he’s been paying attention. 

Biting your lip, you turn away. “Actually…”

“Is there something wrong?” He ends up right beside you in a blink, as if the world changed by your unfinished sentence. 

Your heart picks up a different rhythm, hands raised in position to tie your ribbon but frozen. “It’s nothing, my throat just feels-”

“Do you want me to call a doctor?”

That was the exact reason why you started with it’s nothing. Alas… “No, it’s probably just my overthinking and coming up with strange sensations.” And if not, it depends on how well you spend tonight, so there’s not much room for intervention. Definitely not in medical terms.

“Pity.” His comment makes you scoff. After that, you can’t reward him with your concerns, can you? It is funny, ugh.

“Let me help.” 

Your heart can’t get any rest as the tension simply changes garbs, his fingers trailing over yours and leading a 180° turn, leaving a blazing line along your skin, to tie the ends of your ribbon together. Your arms tentatively fall to your sides, not sure what to do with their freedom. His breaths lick your neck while he attentively, slowly smooths his creation, and you’d probably freak out if you weren’t so focused on the sheer range of his skills.

(Also the mystery of how he comes to acquire it, but it’s only the deep, dark parts of your mind speaking. Moreover, you do not pride yourself in a position to be jealous. You absolutely are, on that tiny level, and no, you’ll never admit it.)

Though, you’re not gonna comment on that, not when your heart threatens to fly out of its cage. The sacredness of the action brings back the echoes of your concerns, not a single one strong enough to overtake you, but the cacophony of them loud enough to occupy the entirety of your capacity.

All that talk of past times… Coupled with a little hesitancy, and how the tables turn…

“T- thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Like he just didn’t flip the dynamic, he carries on with his outfit, tying his cravat. His beautiful hands work expertly, effortlessly, and the result is perfect, even without a mirror, eyes on you the entire time.

“Is it looking fine?”

“Yes.” You meekly answer. It is decent, like he always is. Somehow witnessing that feels as sensual as the previous scene, pulling you further down the whirlpool.

Embarrassed enough already, you busy yourself with your hair, accepting the mess that it is, and decide on a simple bun, as much as possible. The practiced moves bring you some sense of calmness and control, even if the result isn’t perfect. The silence helps too, along with his occupancy of tidying up the room.

“Do you want to have some breakfast?” He asks. God, how does he still sound that cheery?

“No, thank you.” You don’t want to keep your father worrying any longer, and it’s not like you’re going to faint. The memory of your last food in the most unpleasant company is still strong enough to expel any thought of hunger.

That answer may be the clearest thought you’ve ever had this morning, yet it is the one that whispers doubt into his heart. You are silent, turned away from him, and far too engrossed in whatever unnecessary thing you’re doing. Because now, he fears that if the two of you leave this room, this building, all your lives in it will be a part of the history, never to be repeated or worse, mentioned again, lost in the torn pages. The joke about residing here for however long- seems awfully bitter, perfectly demonstrating he’d rather hold on to the possibility than put an end to this.

How could that be love?

Perhaps you were right, accusing him of madness.

That’s the only reason he walks out of the room to prepare the carriages, instead of cocooning the both of you in.

===

“Father!” You wrap your arms around him, who’s standing by the main entrance to your estate, waiting anxiously. He does the same, unaffected by the eyes that watch, the staff, and a mere acquaintance, Lord Kenobi.

Now Obi Wan knows who you got your bravery from.

He stands quietly, hands folded in front of him, not sure what to do but damn sure not to leave. He had plenty of time to think about his madness on the road, and decided it was not anything pathological- it was pure love and desperation for you. Isn’t that the nature of most of your meet-ups? Consoling each other in the positively dreadful situations, and utilizing everything to spend a second more together?

He hears you reassuring him of your well-being, and summarize the thing in pretty understated phrases. Even that makes him stutter over his words in a fit of rage. Obi Wan agrees. You distract him by speaking of the help you’ve gotten from a valiant friend, and that’s how he enters the conversation.

“Good morning, Sir.”

How he keeps it all cool, sharing and shaping his anger, silencing any doubt that may arise in him is a surprise, though he’s called a great negotiator for a reason, right? His work in various cases in court has earned him the title. He’s not overtly a fan of flaunting it. Though, it helps him a great deal in this instance.

At least, enough to have a pleasant exchange in these unpleasant circumstances, and secure permission to talk to you again.

Alone.

It is weird enough as it is already, you and him spending the night at some inn, him casually chatting with your father like his clothes haven’t benefitted from the merits of ironing, not to mention his hair being on the wild side after a slight treatment of rain, and now he is requesting your attention? Not only yours, but your father’s too in extent?

His plans have never been so crystal clear.

“No.” You declare your objection so clearly, in one word as the door closes behind him, giving you the privacy of the room. “No, no, no, no.”

“I haven’t even opened my mouth!” He objects, though it is more of a principal thing, than an actual defense. He knows you’ve worked it all out already. God, could he expect anything less from you? Your watery eyes and trembling hands break his heart into a million pieces, reactions so strong even before he has a chance to utter their cause. He caresses his beard, reevaluating if he should continue-

He can’t live with the consequences if he dares not. He can’t live with what-ifs, or not knowing the reason why you are so repulsed by the idea or would you still feel the same, if he told you about his love for you. Of course, that would require some magic, considering the magnitude and intricacy of it. How is he supposed to put the purest feelings he’s ever had to mere words, the origin of the butterflies caged up in his chest, the wires of his brain getting tangled up whenever you’re not around, and the constant intoxication from the strongest liquor he’s ever consumed? He’d rather die than sober up, and a part of him already recognizes that it’s not a possibility. It is his poison and antidote. There’s not a moment that passes without either of them.

And surely, he has no complaints about it. Never will. It is a brave choice, but what’s braver is this moment.

“No.” You repeat, hands clasped together to stop them from shaking. Your voice is low albeit steady, as much as it can be.

Because you do not lift your eyes to meet him. “You can’t propose to me, because I can’t refuse it. But I will. Then the whole country will wonder what is so wrong with you, and me, and they will talk about it all the time, for years to come. The whispers will be the first thing that you hear in every room you enter, and you’ll see the mischievous glint in the eyes of every person you meet, them scrutinizing whether those rumors are true. Our reputations will be tarnished forever, and we will hate each other for it.” And you can’t stand that.

You don’t sound like this is the first time you’re putting these words together. In all your distressed state, you sound awfully logical in your own way, so focused on one improbable, insane possibility (damn those reputations, he can never hate you), but devising every little detail.

“Why?” He basically hollers, running a hand through his hair. Why does that potential is the one you envision? “Why can’t you marry me?”

One can only dream that someone outside isn’t listening.

“Because- I don’t know!” You take a desperate step closer, showing him your honesty. You truly can’t quite name your aversions, and isn’t that already enough of a reason to stay away, spare the person you’re facing?  “I don’t know how to be a wife! And I am scared. All my life I alienated myself from the idea of a marriage, I methodically dismissed every chance claiming it wasn’t the time, all the way ‘til I would say it was too late. I was content with that idea. Because I love- loved my life the way it is; I get more than I need from my father, and that is to remain unchanged when my brother takes over, and I am free as a bird, unbound by society’s expectations, traveling wherever, wherever and trying new things. I was, I am so happy about it that anything that may alter it I shun from immediately. And now I find myself in a place I never imagined, and I am scared. I don’t know what happens now. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what that future looks like for us.”

He moves towards you, his head tilted sideways in understanding, arms reaching for yours. Finally, finally hearing your justifications, the basis of your attitude, fills him with pride and compassion, and most importantly, gives him an opportunity to help you solve those problems, together. But, you hush him, squeezing his wrists in gentle guidance, with tears streaking across your cheeks. “I just know that I love you. I love you so much that my heart will always feel like a weight in my chest when I’m not with you, like a ship sinking, but never reaching the bottom. And I will continue to love you even if you stop loving me back, but I would rather lose you on my terms than by the burdens a marriage brings.”  

“Why do you so believe that a mere contract would change my feelings? Do you think my affections for you are that fragile?”

You frantically shake your head, causing the drops to fall faster. “No, I’m not saying that-“

“Then what?” He snaps, though not because he’s angry. He wants to learn every single reason that’s keeping you away.

“You don’t know what that will do to us.”

“No, I don’t! And I don’t care! It will never change my feelings.” This, he can shout freely. This is the simplest truth for all his remaining days on this earth.

You don’t know that, you want to object. “Obi Wan…” Is the response that comes out of your mouth. “I am not a good bride.”

“No.”There’s acceptance in his tone, a punch to your guts. “You’re the love of life, my companion, my everything.” When he pulls you even closer, and cups your cheeks, you let him. “Haven’t we been through all the struggles a couple could share already? Haven’t I seen all of you, and let you see all of me? Haven’t you claimed my entire soul, and occupied my every single thought? You made me break my rules, and painted a picture I never thought was suited for me- and I came to like that picture very much. In fact, it’s all I ever want my future to look like, with you in it. You, exactly in the way you already are, with all your unsusceptibility to the norms and striking habits. I know that can be scary. I am afraid too. But, anything worth doing starts like this, I know it. And we’ll be the biggest idiots in the world if we let our fear rule us.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, the joyful sound making his breath hitch. It is reflected on his face too, and it is something you’ll hold on to, alongside the tears that begin to form on his eyes. Fortunately, they sit there, despite him kneeling in front of you, his fingers never leaving the bend of your arm, only to follow the route they create, and hold onto both of your hands. “Please, marry me.”

You’re convinced, but your tongue is still tied, so you nod. Your entire upper body shakes with the gesture in seconds, making you look like an overexcited child, on the verge of losing their balance with the restlessness of their legs. You barely feel him kissing your knuckles before he stands up and embraces you, stabilizing both of you in both physical and emotional terms. Let’s be real, if he kissed you instead as he desperately wished to, you’d fall on the floor (and continue there- ‘til somebody discovered the two of you in very indecent terms). His chuckles quickly become your favorite song, you feel blessed as they delight your ears, and make your chest vibrate like his. He revels in the newfound proximity, despite the fact that you’ve been much, much closer in the past. This is new. This is raw love, uncombined with other emotions, strengthened by the absolute truth that you two are meant for each other, and with the promise of you’ll do something about it. He holds you ‘til your sense of balance is restored, for he now has urgent matters he has to attend to. He’ll get to hold you forever soon, and that revelation doesn’t change the herculean feat of letting you go now. He can’t help but wipe the streaks of wetness on your face, though it forms again. He solely doesn’t repeat himself because of the widest grin on your lips. You press yourself to his palm, eyelids closing for a moment, then place a small peck on it.

 “I- I’m now gonna go and talk to your father, get the papers right- and find a-” oh, that’s not “a”, he is going to require many others even if he keeps everything minimal, “I’ll be back in three, fuck, four hours, okay?”

“What? No!” You exclaim, almost giving him a heart attack.

“What’s wrong?” His fingers tighten, a slight tremble taking over them. You have to smile to get him to relax once again, and raise your eyebrows wittily, as if he is a fool for not imagining it already, reminding him of your nature.

“I’m only doing this once. I want everything to be right.”

He squints his eyes, grasping your chin. There’s a few seconds of silence, the time it takes for his nerves to settle. When it does, you’re struck by the intensity of his blue irises, the condensed calm before the storm. “So you want to stay as my fiance ‘til the next season starts, in eight months, succumbing to waiting as we get no freedom to ourselves, always in the center stage, enjoying the last of our bachelor states, the lonely nights and beds bigger than you can ever occupy.”

His other hand, wandering across your waist tells you exactly what he implies. While you actually weren’t planning on such a thing, it causes a surge of rush to overtake you, burning you from the inside. Pursing your lips as you free your face from his grip, with a contradicting shaky breath, you say. “I was always fond of winter weddings…”

To this, he laughs, echoing in the room, and you join him.

One can only hope whoever outside listens to this too, this moment of pure joy preserved in one more mind.

 === 

 “I couldn’t be happier to be married to you.” Obi Wan whispers, but the sentence is loud and clear to you, etched into where he takes nest in the crook of your neck, hot breaths burning your skin.

“We’re still not- ngh“ Yes, this is supposed to be the rehearsal, the night before the main event. You two should be at the reception downstairs, among your many relatives and friends and other members of the society, all gathered for tomorrow morning, when these words of yours will be invalid.

Of course, you are further making a hypocrite of yourself by the way you hold onto him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms locked around his shoulders as he burrows his cock into you. It was impossible to wait any further, as you were separated by the whole ordeal of preparations and the watchful eyes. The moment you found a clearing, you two slipped away, cue to now, where your back on the wall as he supports you against it. You didn’t even get one meter away from the door, you could basically reach the knob with a simple extension of your elbow, but in the end, who cares? Who cares when he fills you so deliciously, scratching the itch that has been building for some time, peppering you with all the love in his heart?

Still, your sentence is cut abruptly as he drives his hips faster, rougher- very much an act of pedantry, advising not to get lost in the details. It works, the correction dies on your tongue, though a quite loud moan takes its place. His hand flies to cover your mouth, and your eyes pop open, meeting his. The pressure of his palm against your face almost forces another sound out of you. Fuck, you adore those blue storms, even when they are focused elsewhere, turned to the door as if it can see past behind it, scanning for intruders. You do actually whimper when the danger dissolves, the vibrations running among his bones, and he keeps up his pace, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

However, it is getting harder in terms of balance as he now has one hand to stabilize you, and despite your best efforts, it is quite hard not to slide off of the smooth fabric of his clothes. Remorsefully, you push on his shoulders, and he understands, pulling his cock out of you and burying his mouth on your skin. He stifles a sob in there, the frustration getting the best of him.

“Oh, you definitely had too much wine.” Look at who’s talking, you with those wobbly legs and bitten lips…

“No, I just had too little of you.”

Your heart flaps its wings out of your chest, as it does after his every cheesy compliment. You still cannot figure out how he makes you blush harder with those words, even as he ravages you in the meantime.

You reach for a kiss, it is always a good idea. He hums contently at the touch, grateful at the most basic form of contact. Obi Wan rocks against you unintentionally, and that’s how the unsatiated desire wages war, with desperate groans and roaming hands.

Then, his fingers tighten around your waist, and you find yourself supported against the vanity with your open palms, depositing most of your weight there (thank God, because you couldn’t trust your feet much longer). He pulls your hips back to his. Your back arches in a way that is most complementary to his chest, and fuck, it is a vision.

It literally is.

Fluttering your eyes open for only a second (that was your intention at least), you’re struck down with the image of the two of you in the mirror, faces contorted in the prettiest way that is possible in this dirty position, heavy lids and open mouths, fingertips whitened by the strong grasp you have on each other, the matching colors of your outfits…

Yes, even with that detail, you’re still on his side, agreeing you’d be idiots if you weren’t doing this.

Deciding to take the sight from its direct source, you turn your head to the side a little, looking at the adonis of a man you’ll soon call your husband, with his neatly trimmed beard and prominent cheekbones and long eyelashes you are slightly jealous of and so much more…

He meets your gaze, breathless with similar thoughts, that little tug on the corner of his mouth telling you all you need to know, but then he nudges your face to its previous state by a small clasp of your chin, and you’re watching him through the reflection, leaning forward when he starts to fumble with your skirt once again.

The moan that leaves you is totally incapable of being unobscured as he enters you anew. The change in the angle along with the visual stimulation has you teetering on the edge quite easily, like him, but he denies it, maintaining slow movements and choking out any noise that dares to leave him.

Of course, all is impeded when the door is knocked-

“Occupied!”

“Occupied!”

Your voices are synchronized, high and tight. The clock stops for a moment for your bodies, as if the stationary status makes it any less scandalous, and both of you fixated on the doorknob.

It never turns. Never.

Still, the dilated pupils remain a little longer, joined over the mirror, with big puffs of breath and shaking hands.

“Do you think they-“ There’s not an exact word that you can find to explain what has just occurred, but the sentiment is clear.

“Probably.” And the answer too is just as clear.

Well, the only thing lost is the trivial achievement of never being discovered before the wedding.

A wedding which is hours away.

So, you push back, wiggling your hips. His unrestricted sound is all you need to regain your spirits back, and you do it once more. Just like that, the wheels are turning. 

“You realize there’s a bed behind us, right?” He asks as he slowly thrusts into you.

“Yes, but I like the view better here.” 

[planet-dusk]

Any thoughts about Dom jisung😵‍💫

i'm team sub/switch jisung most of the time but here are some thoughts on dom!jisung...

🏷️ dom!jisung, bdsm (gagging, restraints, impact play etc), toy use, porn mention, filming, messy sex, spit kink, free use, mention of sharing mc, double penetration, (anal) gaping, piss kink, anal, too much to add rlly but these are the main warnings i think

i feel like jisung would be between a hard and a soft dom even though he doesn't lean too extreme. why? i think he craves control (whether he's domming or subbing). he would surprise you with how strict he is.

a little sadistic but nothing outrageous in terms of impact and pain play (mostly spanking and nipple play)

i think he'd have less patience for edging and would be more into overstimulation. also forced orgasms

which works both ways: orders you to keep riding him or sucking him off even after he's already cummed multiple times

brat tamer: it takes a brat to tame one. he will out-brat you.

DIRTY TALK. so much of it. he'd run his mouth constantly. praise, degradation, all of it.

very cocky at times but also likes to joke around

yes, doms need praise too! like, literally. tell him how good he makes you feel. thank him for what he does to you.

filthy messy sex: lots of drool, cum and lube

has a spit kink

loves to gag you and watch you drool

loves face/throatfucking for the same reason

(more under the cut cuz this was getting too long)

prefers fucking you raw so he can creampie you (multiple times)

lots of toys! vibrators, dildos, couple stuff, and so on... probably has a thing for weirdly shaped and brightly coloured dildos. he loves the sight of a bright purple glass tentacle in your pussy <33

even more so if said toys make you squirt

is open to letting you use toys on him such as anal plugs and fleshlights

fan of anal sex in general, including double penetration. enjoys fucking you while you're wearing a plug or vibrator in your ass

possibly into (anal) gaping/stretching + double vaginal penetration with toys or his cock and a toy

loves titfucking esp cumming on your tits

so much oral. both giving and receiving

likes to watch porn together with you

also likes to create porn together; videos, pictures, anything

wants you to send him regular updates during the day in the form of texts, voice messages, pictures and videos

sends a lot of audio messages + videos of himself masturbating

doesn't mind sharing the footage and enjoys watching a few of his close friends fuck you. again raw of course because he loooves seeing you all filled up with cum

knows you love his voice and uses it to his advantage. will order you to cum or do a countdown

would likely be into free use but more in a passive role (you giving him a handjob or blowjob rather than him fucking you)

i can see him enjoying sexual card and board games

potentially into roleplay esp teacher/student dynamics

enjoys some bondage and sensory deprivation but again nothing too extreme. mostly cuffs, ropes, blindfolds and the aforementioned (ball) gags. gets more of a kick out of controlling you and disciplining you without restraints

may have a piss kink esp when it comes to bladder control. lowkey entertains the thought of him fucking you until you can't hold back anymore and leak all over him

likes it when you choke him and often orders you to do so right before he cums

prefers short, light sessions over longer ones

having fun (both of you) is the most important thing to him!

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Kinkuary Day 3

AN: You all moved on but, I stayed here. This hair on him was so good, idc. Don't ask me where this came from because I couldn't tell you lmao. Also, at this point, these will come out when they come out lol but, I am still very much working on Kinkuary.

Synopsis: Namjoon has always joked that Jungkook has terrible self-preservation. Maybe he's right. And maybe Jungkook would willingly fall into your clutches every single time.

General tags and warnings: Jeon Jungkook x Fem! Reader, Jungkook and Reader are friends with benefits, hybrid au, bunny hybrid! Jungkook, fox hybrid! Reader and this is just pwp if I'm being honest.

Primary kink: Knife play (pretty heavy blood play too).

Smut tags and warnings: Dom! Reader, sub! Jungkook, knife play, blood play (Jungkook bleeding and Reader licking his blood), Jungkook being pretty masochistic and Reader being pretty sadistic, dirty talk, hints of primal play, handjob (m. receiving), slight overstimulation (m. receiving), very mild degradation (m. receiving), some praise (m. receiving) and petnames.

Word count: 1.3k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Jungkook isn't sure how he wound up here.

Well, that's not entirely true. He does know how he ended up in your bed. Again. However, he'd rather not validate Namjoon's relentless teasing so, he prefers to feign ignorance.

“Am I boring you? You seem distracted,” you purr into his throat, your sharp canines lightly dragging along his jugular with enough pressure to speed up his heartbeat. He shakes away thoughts of his best friend, “No I– I was just thinking about something work related. I'm sorry.”

“Aw, I guess I really am boring you if you're thinking about work right now,” he can't see your face but, he can see your faux pout as clear as day. The apology he's about to stutter out is interrupted by a choked moan when your hand drifts to cup him through his slacks. His hips buck up into your hand without his say so but, based on the way you nuzzle into him and giggle, you don't seem to mind all that much.

“You're so cute, bunny,” Jungkook hates that nickname with a burning passion but, he can't bring himself to feel anything except affection when you call him that. A gasp flies out of his mouth when he feels the familiar cool, sharp edge of one of your blades. His eyes fly open, his ears twitching insistently and his instincts screaming at him to run. Get away. Anything. However, he shoves them down and bends his neck to allow you more access. His cock throbbing in the confines of his boxers.

Desire twists in the pit of his stomach when you add more pressure. The familiar sting of your blade prompts his lashes to flutter, his body practically crumples against your chest and god, it's been too long since he's let you have him like this if a single press of your knife is enough to render him so dizzy already. He groans when you drag it along his skin. Strong hands gripping your thighs to steady himself somehow while your other hand focuses on unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

“You're so pretty, Kookie,” you whisper so softly that he almost misses it. The praise shoots straight down his spine to his already hard cock. His head lolling back slightly and a throaty whimper leaving his lips when your hand finally manages to free him from his boxers and slacks. His hips jerk when you wrap your hand around as much of him as you can. That does make him crack his eyes open. The sight of your pretty hand wrapped his slick cock adds even more fuel to the want building in his veins.

“Please,” he heaves, squeezing his eyes shut when you tighten your grip around him but, do nothing else. Your blade dragging down his throat until it reaches his shirt. He should be a little more upset at you using your knife to cut it open but, he honestly can't bring himself to care much right now. Especially with each brush of the blade against his bare chest. Fuck. He never thought he'd miss it this much.

“Please what, bunny?” You ask into his shoulder. A large part of him admires your ability to multitask. He has no idea how you can focus on more than one action at a time right now but, you have always been better at keeping yourself together than him. He tries to access his brain to think of something to say to you. He's sure you can feel him throbbing in your hand but, you have always had a bit of a sadistic edge.

“I– please. I'm so hard. Wanna cum so bad, please,” he whines, turning his head until his lips meet yours. It's incredibly uncomfortable but he couldn't care less. You kiss him back with so much ferocity that he's lucky he doesn't get swept away from the sheer force. Your canines nip his lip harshly enough to draw blood and, he can't tell who moans louder. You swallow all of his sounds of pleasure when your hand does finally grant him some relief. Your strokes are unforgiving from the get go. The slick sounds of it echoing throughout your bedroom. The only thing keeping him from fucking your fist like he so desperately wants to is the blade being dragged across his abdomen.

For a brief moment, he wonders if it would be completely insane for him to fuck your hand anyway. Letting the blade press and press into his skin until it draws blood.

If you notice the way he throbs in your grasp at the thought, you don't mention it.

“Can't wait to mark you up,” you mutter against his bruised and bloodied lips. Pressing your knife deeper into his skin enough for the pain to add to the foggy state of his mind. The faint lines you leave across his stomach sting a little but, it's nothing he can't handle. If anything, it's not enough.

“More, please,” he whimpers, gently grasping your wrist and pressing the blade further and further into his skin until it hurts. You make a noise so animalistic that it sends up his prey warning signals briefly but, he resists. He knows he can trust you. Against all instinct and better judgement probably but, he'd let you make him bleed as much as you want to.

“I didn't realise you were such a pain slut,” you laugh and the sight of his blood painting your lips is far, far too attractive. He's getting dangerously close and he can't help but, feel a twinge of embarrassment. Has it really been so long that your hand and a few cuts of your knife are enough for him to already be teetering so close to the edge? God, he's pathetic.

“Just missed you. Missed this,” he gasps, his hips snapping into your grasp when you quicken your pace. Electricity building in the base of his spine and sending sparks to his extremities while you drag your knife up to his throat. If he wasn't sitting on it, you'd see the way his tail wags excitedly at the mere suggestion of your actions. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum so bad, please please please–”

His release slams into him like a train when you dig your knife into his neck enough for him to bleed. Droplets run down his chest but, he's too preoccupied with projecting out of his body somewhere into the galaxy to pay too much attention to them. His body folds into itself when you continue to stroke him through his orgasm. Wringing as much of his thick cum out of him as possible and painting his stomach and thighs white with it all.

“Too much, too much, too much,” he gasps out once he's able to put words together. Jolting away from your hand and sagging against you once you grant him mercy and stop stroking him. Sticky with a mix of his blood and his cum, all he can do for now is try and steady his breathing and piece himself back together while you lap at his neck and stroke his arm with your unfairly soft tail.

“Don't fall asleep on me yet, bunny,” you tease him and that's when he realises he shut his eyes who knows how long ago. Blinking them open, he's greeted with the sight of his blood smeared on your lips and chin. Your ears twitching pleasantly when you absentmindedly lick at what you can reach with your tongue.

Maybe Namjoon is right.

Maybe he is just the dumbest bunny hybrid alive who willingly puts himself in the clutches of a woman who could end him in a heartbeat. However, now, while he comes back to himself and feels his cock starting to jump back to life at the vision you create, maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

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