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#i want to write smut but i always get cold feet
astupidweeb69 · 5 months
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Had an idea for a Toby one shot... It would've been smut, but I chickened out after writing two pages 😭
Anyway, the whole idea was Toby is the weird, creepy roommate of the Reader's brother. She's warned to stay away from him because he has a bad reputation... But the Reader sees Toby at a party later on and kind of doesn't listen lmao.
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peachysunrize · 21 days
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Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen
Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.
Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)
a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷
A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨
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“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”
Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.
He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.
You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?
He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.
No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.
The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys. 
Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.
“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.
“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”
“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.
“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.
“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.
You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.
Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.
•••••••••••
Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.
Unnecessary, stupid… 
Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.
With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.
He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.
He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.
As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing. 
It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.
He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.
He can do it, he has done it countless times.
Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.
He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.
He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.
There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.
Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.
He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.
He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.
He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.
He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.
He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.
He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.
“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.
The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.
He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.
“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”
“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”
“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”
“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily. 
Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”
“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.
“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.
Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives. 
“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.
“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.
“Aegon…”
Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.
He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.
“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.
Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.
The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.
Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.
“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.  
“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.
“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.
“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.
Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way… 
Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.
His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.
He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.
The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs. 
You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.
“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.
“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”
“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.
“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.
He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.
“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.
“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.
“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.
Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.
“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”
“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”
“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.
You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.
Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.
“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”
“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.
“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.
•••••••••••
He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.
He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.
Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.
He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.
Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.
Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.
“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.
“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”
You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”
“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”
“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him. 
There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.
Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.
The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.
He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.
“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.
“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.
“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.
He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.
You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.
Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say. 
He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.
Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.
You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.
He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.
You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke. 
Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.
“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,”  he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.
Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.
Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.
“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”
“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”
“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.
No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.
“I apologize, uncle,” 
Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.
“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 
The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.
His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.
“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.
“Yes, My Lady?”
“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.
“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.
“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”
“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.
“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”
•••••••••••
After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.
Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.
With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.
Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.
That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.
He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.
He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.
You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.
He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face. 
“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.
“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.
“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.
He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness?  How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him? 
He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.
He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.
You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.
“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.
“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.
“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”
He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”
It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.
And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.
Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.
You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.
Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.
“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.
He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.
“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.” 
He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.
You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.
The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.
•••••••••••
A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.
“Mother—”
“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”
Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”
“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.
“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”
“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.
A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.
“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”
Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.
“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.
“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”
“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”
“So do you, My Prince.”
“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.
“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.
“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.
“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”
“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.
“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.
You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.
A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.
He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.
He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans. 
He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.
He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.
“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.
“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.
He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.
He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.
Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.
 He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.
“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”
“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.
“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.
“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”
“Is that so? Well, I must say—”
He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.
“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.
What have I done?
What have I done?
I dropped her.
I did this.
What happened?
His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.
“Aemond, look—”
He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.
Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore. 
With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor. 
His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this? 
He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.
“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.
The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…
Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body. 
“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.
You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.
“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.
“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.
“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.
“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.
He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.
You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.
Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.
“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.
“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”
“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”
He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.
“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”
You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.
He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.
•••••••••••
He is running.
Where is he? Why is he running?
He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.
The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.
What’s this smell?
He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.
He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.
“Darling, are you alright?”
“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.
“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.
“I was not here—”
“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”
“Aemond!”
“Aemond!”...
He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.
“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.
“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little. 
He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.
“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.
“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.
“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”
He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.
He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.
“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
•••••••••••
He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.
“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.
“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”
“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.
“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”
He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?
“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.
“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”
“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.
“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.
“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.
“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.
His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.
“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”
“I don’t care, I have you now,”
He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.
He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.
He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.
“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”
He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.
His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.
You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.
“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.
You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.
The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.
You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you. 
He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.
He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.
“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.
“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”
“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”
“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.
“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.
He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.
“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.
“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”
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slut4jeon · 3 months
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Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer (jjk)
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Officer!Jk x fem reader
Summary: Tiredly calling it a night after attending your workplaces celebration New Year's Eve party. You may have or not ran through a stop sign foolishly thinking no one would have been around to witness it…oh how wrong you were
Warnings: mature (18+), smut, degradation, unprotected sex, Voyeurism, don't read this if this does not interest you!! You have been warned!
I had this prepared early Jan but tumblr didn’t save my writing :(( so I gave up on it lmao. I also really wanted to write smth w tsx jungkook. The police trend w the Lana song gave me inspo for this although the actual trend isn’t in the fic.
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You were calling it a night, exiting the noisy building that is your workplace. There was a currently a party in the building where your coworkers were celebrating the New Year's.
You were tired. The loud music and chatters annoying you. You chose a safer route tonight, sticking to sparkling cider since you were driving yourselves home tonight.
The cold air hitting your bare skin leaving goosebumps over your entire figure as youstep out into the windy area heading towardsyour parked car.
That's the consequence of wanting to look good and presentable for a celebration, you of course always look stunning. It doesn't hurt to get ready. You were currently sporting a black ysl mini along with a deep v neckline and a pair of matching black pumps. The shoes, also annoying by how sore they left your feet.
Black heels clicking onto the floor as you begin entering your car as you drove into the pitch black night. Admiring the way the twinkling city lights look, along with the lit up buildings and lampposts. You got a little too carried away when you were oblivious to the stop sign you foolishly didn't stop and passed by.
Regret lingered in your chest as you panicked over your foolish action. Perhaps you'd be fine as it is the late night and no cars were present, oh how wrong you were.
The sound of a police siren began ringing as the bright red and blue lights gaining up on the tail of your car. You pulled onto the side of the road swiftly and put your car in park. Your trembly hands gripping both hands onto the steering wheels most definitely leaving your palms and knuckles white. That's when you heard 3 knocks on your left side window.
"Shit" you muttered. Feeling a rise of mixed movement in your lower belly as you begin lowering your window. There you met the gaze of a handsome officer.
"Driving late on New Years Day? When everybody's drinking and celebrating tonight. License and registration." He spewed with a hint of sarcasm.
"Yes, of course." Your hand quickly traveled to your glove compartment pulling out the documents. Then, pulled your license from your clutch.
As he inspected you couldn't help but gaze at him. His raven black sleek parted hair showing off a bit of forehead. His black button up dress shirt that was tucked in the matching black jeans, and rolled up from the sleeves stopping before the elbows to show off his meaty arms that were covered in artworks of tattoos.
The stern look he holds as looking at your documents. The burrowed brow and line wrinkles in between the brows. He was attractive, godly attractive.
"Step out the vehicle for me" he said. You did as told
You couldn't help but gaze at him. He was an attractive specimen. But soon you were ripped out of your thoughts.
"Walk along that yellow line"
"Officer I'm not drunk or anything of the sor-" you were interrupted
"You were given instructions. I expect you to follow them." he bluntly said
Obeying his words you stepped foot onto the yellow line. The cold air doing you no justice as you were trembling from it.
What you weren't aware of was how he stared at your ass that was threatening to spill out of the little piece of flimsy material you call a dress.
Turning around, his gaze caught you off guard at how he stared at you as a helpless little fawn about to be hunt down by a hungry wolf.
"I'm gonna pat you down. Step right by the car for me, palms flat onto the vehicle", he demanded.
Swiftly obeying, you got into position. Beginning his pat down inspection from head to toe. His muscular hands roamed over your body. You wondered whether your goosebumps was from the cold wind or his slithering fingers tracing over your open skin.
As he got lower and lower, padding the waist and soon hips he made sure to grope onto your flesh just in case of any dangerous possessions.
You were a whimpering mess, biting into your bottom lip to suppress any noise coming out of your mouth. The attractive officer had an effect on you. Especially when passing your thighs and ankles, rising back to the top his movement slowed as he reached back to your thighs.
You let out suppressed mewls as his fingers inched towards your inner thighs. Your legs were gonna give up at any threatening moment. You questioned whether he caught onto your reaction to his touch.
His fingers were dangerous close to your soaking cunt. You were took aback at his touch you could not longer suppress the noises that urged to come pass your lips. Your heat was aching for his touch.
He took notice to your glistening folds in with your juices threatening to spill out of your wine red lace panties. The officer could no longer resist the temptation of the sweet treat in front of him.
Riding your dress a bit up his face inched closer to your cunt, nose and all. Hooking his fingers onto your panties and pushing them aside, he ate you out from behind. Your knees about to give in as he ate your pussy like a starved man. His tongue lapped over your clit playing with the cute bud left you a whiny mess.
"Please” you voiced out quietly
How cute, the officer thought. His fingers lathered your juices, leaving them coated and dripping. The sudden intrusion of his long fingers intruding into the tight ring of your hole.
With your mouth agape, your mind was left into a frenzy at how good the officer worked his fingers into your soaking cunt.
"Clenching onto my fingers, aren't you a little eager thing?", he said
You looked back to him to see his pretty pouty lips all swollen and tinted from eating you out. Your juices trailing down his chin and neck. He looked too edible.
He sensed you were near as your gummy walls clamped onto his fingers. Quickly pulling them out and robbing you of your release you mewled at the empty feeling.
You were a minx he thought. His cock hardening and imprinting his jeans. The feeling got only tighter as his fingers savored the taste of your pussy juices that coated his index and middle.
He needed more. Turning your body swiftly around the officer face to face with you connected both mouths together. His hands sneaked onto your hips and lower onto your ass making sure to grip the plumpy flesh.
You couldn't help out moan into his mouth as you both were in ecstasy. You needed more.
"Need to fuck that pussy, will you let me pretty thing?", who were you to deny him?
Eagerly nodding your head in confirmation. "Words, pretty", the officer said
"Please fuck me", you said in a desperate manner. That's all it took for him to roughly turn you around and begin grinding his hard length into your ass.
Desperate for friction you pushed out for him, like a bitch in heat. Your dress being a nuisance for him he unzipped you, freeing your bare body to be in display of his hungry eyes.
You wore no bra as the dress had padding, all you were left in was your wine lace panties. His lips traveled from your neck to breasts. Scattering marks as if he were leaving burns.
The way his teeth clamped onto your bud, sucking and pulling. Something about the way you were fully bare at his mercy as he remained fully clothed while he played with your pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.
"Officer please, fuck me!", you could no longer take it.
He smirked at your eagerness. Finding it humorously cute at how much of a cock hungry whore you are.
Your ears perked at the noise of him fumbling with his belt. His cock sprung free fully erect as he began aligning it to your entrance.
"O-oh! Fuck.., officer!", you blabbered incoherently as the intrusion of his length stretched your hole.
"-shit, such a tight little pussy", his pace greedily fastened.
You were a mess. All that was heard in the quiet night was the way he rammed his cock into your pussy. Balls slapping against your clit.
"Such a whore you are, aren't you? You like getting rammed from behind by an officer out in the outdoors?" he said as he continued abusing your cunt.
"Who would've thought a pretty thing like you was such a dirty slut, huh?" Your walls clenched by each word coming out of his filthy mouth.
"yes!yes!yes!", he fucked you deliciously good, your orgasm threatening to approach with his current pace.
You were cock drunk. Barely paying any kind of attention to the fact you were getting rammed out in public. Any person or car could pass by but your mind would only be focused on the way his dick drilled at a relentless speed.
His fingers sinked to your clit, rubbing your bud provoking your body to tremble in ecstasy of how he worked wonders on your body.
"Sir, i-it's too much!"
"You can take it ,baby. Milk my cock, make a mess.”
His words were perfectly on cue. Creaming his cock in your release. Falling limp into his arms. His release wasn't too far off yours. Head leaning into your neck as both of your panted. Silence went on for a few minutes before he helped with re-dressing you.
The officer broke the silence, "So, the names Jungkook. Could we perhaps exchange numbers, I'd like to take you out sometime soon.”
- end
1K notes · View notes
loveshotzz · 6 months
Text
We’re supposed to be eating breakfast
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older!steve x fem!reader an AIRWIY oneshot
summary: You wake up after your first sleep over at Steve’s house feeling bold.
wc: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ older!steve, smut, p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, mentions of past drinking, reader is wearing Steve’s baseball jersey but it’s not really described how it fits on readers body, no real descriptions of readers body.
authors note: this took me over a month to write with everything going on in my personal life, so I’m excited to finally give it to you. thank you all for your patience and encouragement to keep coming back on here every day despite me not writing as much as I used to and to keep me opening my word docs. this one was spurred my @palmtreesx3 brilliant mind and an idea that’s haunted me day and night. This takes place in the All I Really Want Is You universe, but can be read as a stand alone. Just know you’re wearing Steve’s personalized cubs jersey. :)
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The harsh sounds of the coffee grinder is what wakes you up, but the golden rays of morning sunshine that leaks through the cracks in the blinds is what gets your eyes to open. Slow soft blinks, with fluttering lashes and brain still fuzzy from the kind of sleep that makes you temporarily forget what year it is, you need a moment to recognize the unfamiliar, much nicer surroundings.
You were in Steve’s room.
A smile you can’t contain spreads wide across your face, butterfly wings tickling at your rib cage. Stretching your still sleeping limbs, your body melts into the soft cushions of his mattress. The feathers that fill his pillows contour to your head perfectly, and the memories of the ways he had you pressed into it resurface, skin igniting with the ghost of his hands on your curves. Biting your bottom lip, the kind of nerves that you haven’t had since the Fourth of July make themselves known again, having never spent a morning with him at his home.
Rolling over, your face hits the cotton of his pillowcase that you’re not surprised is cold. Shamelessly you inhale the cedar and spice that still lingers on it, and the faint ache between your thighs, along with the clinks of glass you hear from his sink, reminds you that he’s just down stairs. It takes a little bit of willpower to leave the cozy cocoon you’ve found yourself in but the need to see him over powers the comfort of his duvet that feels like just the right amount of weight against your body.
Shuffling out of the covers, your bare feet hit the cold hard wood of his floors, a shiver crawling up your spine that you tell yourself is from the chill of the winter air that seeps through his unsealed windows, definitely not your nerves catching a glimpse of your naked body in his dresser mirror. The same mirror you’d seen him in almost five months ago.
Padding across his bedroom you wonder if he can hear your steps as you search for any sign of your clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around after an old bottle of red wine. The clean white color of his jersey catches in your gaze, the blue bold lettering that spells out his last name has your thighs pressing at the memory of your second date as it sits folded on top of his dresser.
The thought of how good he looked with it stretched across his broad shoulders, and the top two buttons undone, teasing the chest hair that your nails dragged through last night makes your skin warm. The praises he whispered in hot merlot against your lips, your neck, and between your legs is what gives you the confidence you need to slip it on instead.
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The stairs creak under each step, but the popping grease of the bacon that fills his house with the smell of maple lets you go undetected. Familiar voices of who you’re learning are sportscasters, spill out from the small speaker on his phone that you know is propped up on the little plastic holder he always sets it on when he charges it. He mumbles something in response to the commentary under his breath, and you hear the beeping of the oven telling him it’s finished preheating.
Your cheeks hurt from how high they push up when you realize Steve’s making you breakfast.
A little shy from his affections already, your fingers wrap around the wood frame of the entryway with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. With his back to you, it gives you a perfect view of the way his white cotton undershirt stretches tight over his shoulder blades that move with every flick of his wrist, forearms flexing as he whisks whatever is in the bowl in front of him. Black sweats sit low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his boxer briefs underneath, the font across the top of his waist band says Burberry, making your palms sweat. A personal favorite pair.
He turns his head to look at a replay of a game he missed in favor of spending time with you on his phone screen, still completely unaware of your presence. The new angle reveals the silver glasses he wore a few weeks ago in his office, dark chestnut and peppered hair sticking out wild at the ends, a mess you know was made by your hands.
“Seriously? Keep him on the bench.” He grumbles, shaking his head before bringing his attention back to the bowl.
You watch him for a few seconds longer, but his butt jiggling with the force of his whisking makes a giggle slip past your lips blowing your cover. He jumps at the noise no matter how sweet it is, meeting your eyes from over his shoulder. Steve gives you a smile that you’re learning is only reserved for you and sometimes Eddie, punching the air out of your lungs. Watching the way it only continues to grow across his stubble covered face makes your heart swell even more.
It’s only when his gaze finally lands on the only thing you’re wearing that the gold shimmering inside his eyes darken, a starless night lingering where the bottom hem of his jersey sits at the very tops of your thighs.
“Jesus honey, look at you.” The metal whisk hits the glass of the bowl with a loud clink as he turns around to really drink you in, “good morning to me.”
“I hope this is okay,” your voice comes out smaller than intended, suddenly self conscious you might have overstepped despite the way he watches you take your first steps into the kitchen like he wants to eat you alive.
“Okay?” His huffs out a breath like he’s wrecked, long fingers coming up to scratch at his jaw, “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to wear anything else in my house ever again.”
You giggle again, and you swear you hear him groan because of it.
“I think we might be able to arrange something, a deal, an agreement of some sort.” you smirk, tapping your nails along the smooth black marble of his kitchen island, giving your hips a little extra sway with your slow steps.
Both his palms curve around the counter behind him as he leans back, chest puffing while he licks his full pink lips. They pull up into a lopsided grin, a hungry gaze roaming freely as you come to a stop right in front of him. His confidence only falters a little when he has to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, but the gesture only makes your heart swell especially when the tops of his ears redden.
You lean against the island with a smile that tells him you’re up to no good. Heat from the oven and the man across from you warms your legs against the chill that bounces off all the glass and stone in his kitchen. Electricity sparks in the space between your bodies making the tips of your fingers and toes buzz, your pulse jumping when he reaches a big hand out for you.
“Just a little bit too far for me still baby,” He wiggles his fingers at you making you smile shyly before you slip your hand into his palm, your eyes glaze over watching it disappear in his grasp.
His gentle tug makes you squeal, hitting his chest with a soft thump, he grins down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Wrapping an arm around you to keep you from leaving, he lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face. The pad of his thumb traces the length of your cheek bone, and he smells just his pillow. Your hands find themselves tangled into the cotton of his shirt, leaning deeper into his touch. It makes the playfulness that dances in the chestnut of his eyes turn soft with something lovesick.
“Good morning handsome,” you say in a content sigh, and the hand that's spread across your back starts to work a path up your spine pulling the fabric of his jersey with it.
“I could really get used to this you know,” He hums, dipping his head down so the tip of his nose runs up the length of yours, mint and coffee on his breath “waking up to you.”
Your stomach flips at his words, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when you feel the cool breeze hit where your underwear should be.
“Oh yeah? What about Bandit?” You tease leaning closer, letting your top lip catch his bottom one.
Steve snorts a little, reminded of his dog who he knows is soaking up the sun outside, and the palm on your back squeezes you even closer.
“Are you kidding me? We’re obsessed with you over here honey.” The whites of his teeth show a little before they nip at your pout. He takes advantage of the gasp he earns, closing the gap completely in the kind of kiss that doesn’t give you any time to catch your breath before he’s licking at your bottom lip.
Your fingers untangle themselves from his shirt, and find a new home to get lost in the locks at the nap of his neck. Tongues meet in the middle with eager enthusiasm, and your front teeth hit as you push up on your tippy toes on the search for more. A deep groan vibrates from his chest, and his palm starts working its way down the dip of your back. When he’s met with the bare swell of your ass as he reaches the bottom hem of his jersey, you feel him kick up in his sweatpants.
“Tough girl.” He says your nickname like he's scolding you, leaving open mouthed kisses up your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before whispering with the kind of gravel in his voice that makes the inside of your thighs sticky. “We’re supposed to be eating breakfast.”
You hardly register him turning the oven off beside you.
“Who says -“ your sentence is cut off by a gasp when two thick fingers trace up your slick lips with ease, the pads of them pressing down on your bundle of nerves just long enough to make you whine with shaky knees.
“Who says what huh?” He whispers against the sensitive spot behind your ear, rubbing small circles on your clit with pointed pressure, obsessed with the way your jaw goes slack, and your eyebrows pinch together because of it.
“Who says we can’t do both?” You manage to get out with fluttering lashes, as he spreads you apart.
“You’re right, I don’t think breakfast is gonna be sweet enough for me.” He tuts, letting his middle finger push just a knuckle into your already greedy walls, and the soft moan that he gets from you has him leaking in his sweats. “You gonna help me with that, honey?”
Too lost in his teasing all you manage is a nod and a breathy ‘mmhmm’ looking up at him with big glassy eyes. He lets his lips ghost over yours, with a smirk tugging at the corners of them before spinning you around. Your palms land back on the cool marble of the kitchen island while both his hands wrap themselves firmly around the soft dough of your hips keeping his Jersey rucked up with them. He pulls your ass flush with his hips, letting you feel the hard length of him that begs to be released from the fleece confines of his pants against the ache in your core.
“This is what you wanted when you came down here lookin’ like this huh?” He asks with a low voice, hooking his thumbs under the bottom of his jersey. Lifting it higher up your back, he grinds against you while his eyes drink in all the soft dips of all your curves.
“Maybe,” you giggle a little breathy looking back over your shoulder at him with half lidded eyes.
His smile steals all the warm light from the room as he looks down at you with a cocked brow.
“I was trying to wait till after breakfast, which was hard waking up to you naked in my bed.” He can’t stop his heavy gaze from wandering to his last name covering the top of your back, unlocking something primal and possessive inside of him that he thought he’d lost forever. He wants you to leave it on, he’ll get it dry cleaned. “But honey, I can’t keep my hands off of you lookin’ like this.”
His palm feels heavy as it slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing at the fat with strong fingers spreading you apart a little before shoving his sweatpants half way down his hairy thighs. With hot cheeks, you flutter around nothing when the thickness of his cock springs free, standing at attention just for you. Somersaults in your stomach as you watch his tight grip pump himself a few times. Your hips wiggle in anticipation, whining when he teases more, gliding his tip through your slick, a small moan spilling from between your lips when he catches your clit.
“Always so needy for me,” he groans with a hint of disbelief, “fuck, what’d I do to deserve you?”
Steve doesn’t waste anymore time, slowly pushing in and the feeling of your walls wrapping around him while your body tries to accommodate the stretch has him chanting your name under his breath. Half way in, he regrips your hips a little rougher than before. His cock twitches watching your back bow, making his last name shine against the light while your nails scratch at the cool marble when he bottoms out.
Legs shaking, still sensitive from the night before, his hold on you tightens. You keen at the feeling of his thumbs rubbing small circles into your soft skin giving you time to adjust. It doesn’t take long for the initial sting subside, giving you the strength to rock your hips a little, a breathy sigh escaping you when it feels good.
“Yeah?” He hums, meeting your hips with his own hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.
“Uh huh” You manage to utter as he pulls almost all the way out, a moan of his name long and drawn out bounces off the walls when he pushes back in letting you feel every inch.
“That’s my girl,” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes you want to turn around and see it.
Your eyes meet from over your shoulder again as he starts to roll his hips, finding the perfect pace. The sound of skin slapping fills the quiet space between moans every time your ass jiggles from the force of it. That strand falls messily over his forehead when he looks down at you, brows pinching together and jaw going slack like seeing your face only intensified everything he was feeling. He holds your stare, and the snap of his hips starts to get rougher. Burying himself deep focusing on that spot, the one he’s only ever been able to find.
“Oh, oh- Steve. Right there -shit - oh my god.” Your head falls between your shoulders, when he starts to barely pull out anymore. The tip of him making your eyelashes flutter as he reaches the spot that had you screaming his name last night, over and over again.
His eyes wander the expanse of your back, keeping his pace while his hands slowly start to slide up your sides, pushing his jersey with it. He wants to see more of you, but his hips stutter hearing the noises he’s getting out of you with his last name plastered across your hunched shoulders.
“You look so good - shiiit, like this baby. My name on your back, letting me bend you over in my kitchen while I cook you breakfast.” He babbles as your walls start to flutter, already dangerously close to falling over the ledge, your body threatening to take him with you. “Wanna do this all the time, please, let me do this all the time, honey.”
“Whatever, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want, I’m - oh fuck, I’m yours.” Your words break off in a moan when he starts to circle his hips at the same time you push yours back and he holds you there, repeating the motion.
“Yeah? You’re mine?” Steve grunts, cock twitching at the thought of filling you up, and for the first time in over a decade he feels the need to mark what’s his in the most primal way he knows. The thought of you round with his kid brings a new kind of intensity to the way he starts to fuck you, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. “Tell me again.”
“Mmmhmm, always yours.” You whine, feeling yourself reaching the edge. Steve leans forward, somehow going deeper. Long thick fingers find their way between your thighs, where the two of you connect and he starts rubbing messy circles on your clit, pushing you off the cliff.
You flutter and squeeze around him hard enough to almost push him out, but he continues rutting his hips fighting against it, white spots explode behind your lids, his name falling out of your mouth broken in a gasp and a shudder.
“That’s it, fuck, that’s it.” He groans, watching the way your forehead hits the cold marble with another tremor that makes his cock twitch. “Gonna cum baby, let me cum inside, need it, please.”
He can make out the nod of your head, and with the little strength you have left, you push yourself further back encouraging him more. He knows you're on the pill, he’s seen you take it, but right now in the heat of it all, a small part of him hopes you missed a day. He blames the blue letters on his Jersey staring him right in the face, or the way you coat his cock with the remains of what he did to you every time you suck him right back in.
He pushes himself deep enough to make you fall forward a little, a low groan rumbling deep from his chest as he spills hot inside of you the rock of his hips slowing down as he falls apart. His forehead hits your back, with one last lazy thrust, and you can feel the heat of his breath as he pants to catch his breath. You wish the fabric of his jersey wasn’t so thick when he plants a kiss between your shoulder blades, before slowly pulling himself back up.
“Yeah, it’s official. This is absolutely the only thing you’re allowed to wear here.”
3K notes · View notes
dudeitiskarev · 15 days
Text
Salt and Pepper
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader
Summary: dad bod and insecure Hotch. That’s it.
Tags/warnings: SMUT (minors and ageless blogs do not engage please). Very dirty and domestic sex; body worship; established relationship; insecure Hotch; season 12 Hotch; his body is described; reader is the same age as Hotch <3; lots of body fluids whoops.
Word count: 3k
Author’s note: another repost. This was written in first person pov originally so I changed it to second person. Hope you enjoy! (because I certainly did while writing it 🤭)
HOTCH MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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Something Aaron does as soon as he joins you in bed is find your cold feet to keep them warm.
You’ve always teased him about how he was a human heater. During the winter it was a blessing, pressing your entire body against his so he’d share his warmth with you all night. 
     During summer... your feet are still cold, but it was a whole different story. Hotch’s body heat tended to be overwhelming at times. Even when you pulled back every blanket, you’d still wake up sweaty and the fact that his body always finds yours, forced you to sleep completely naked. 
     Not that he minded, and neither did you. You complained to him in a playful way how unfair it was that he still refused to sleep naked like you, but you always managed in one way or another to at least make him take off his shirt. 
     Tonight was one of those nights. 
     80 degrees, 10:47PM—feet still cold—and you’d just gone to bed after finishing a long day full of household duties. Like always, Aaron took his late-night shower that helped him sleep better and joined you, wearing a white T-shirt and loose boxers, and drying his hair with a towel. 
     “Hi.” He hung the towel on the headboard and slid inside the bed covers with a smirk across his face.  
     You returned the flirty smile but said nothing, adjusting the pillows and giving him your back. He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and curved his body onto yours. A perfect fit. 
     “What did I do now?” He murmured next to your ear, the scent of soap and fresh minty breath fanning your cheek. 
     “We didn’t call the service center to get the air conditioning fixed.” You half-turned your body. “I’m convinced you pretend to forget because you want me to sleep naked.”
     “Mmm,” he hummed and smiled into a soft peck. “You caught me.” 
     You knew he was teasing you, so you received another gentle kiss by cupping his cheek with one hand.
       It was a goodnight kiss for the first two seconds, but then he opened his mouth a little and made it more intense by timidly brushing his tongue across your top lip, then a little more and more. The hand that rested only on your belly roamed up and found your breast, brushing his thumb over your soft nipple and making it hard within an instant. 
     You adored it whenever he took the initiative. 
     “Are you in the mood, Aaron Hotchner?” You murmured against his lips. 
     “Yes.” He smiled then nibbled your bottom lip into a needy kiss again at the same time he pinched your other nipple, making it just as hard as the other. 
     You let out a quiet whine to let him know you were in the mood too and pressed your back more onto his torso when he began to grind against your ass slowly; you couldn't ignore his bulge pressed against you and the pulse in between your legs popped up right away, slowly growing painful.
     It was definitely going to be one of those nights that he ended up completely naked. 
     You reached behind you and palmed him over his boxers and there he was, his hardening cock filled your entire palm. You started to stroke him over the fabric as he sneaked his fingers in between your legs from behind.
     Lazy sex was a favorite for both of you—especially after a long day—so you stayed there, pressing yourself against him, your head turned to him while the kiss was all tongues and harsh breathing.
     “Take the shirt off,” You ordered, swallowing thickly in need of air.  
     “No, it’s fine like this.” He almost cut you off, capturing your lips into a wet kiss once again.
     You whined into his mouth when he slowly circled your clit with two fingers. “But I want you naked.” 
     When it was something quick and desperate, you didn't mind that he’d keep some clothes on, but tonight you had all night – and the next day off. You turned around completely and touched the soft muscles under his shirt, never breaking the kiss. 
     “Mmm,” he hummed a bit annoyed when you began to lift his shirt.
     “What is it?” you pulled back. 
     “Nothing, it���s just—” He shut his eyes in deep thought and licked his lips, slightly furrowing his brows and clenching his jaw. 
     You knew that face very well. He was feeling insecure. It hadn’t happened in a while but you knew how to erase those negative thoughts he had about himself with only a few words and touches. 
     You pulled the bed covers all the way back and hooked a finger on the waistband of his underwear, lifting it up and letting it go. It snapped against his skin. “Off. Now.” 
     Without a word and a smirk that said it all, he obeyed. Next thing, he was exposed to you, his hard cock naturally curving against his lower stomach. You bit your lip at the beautiful sight and stared for a moment. One of his arms pulled you close by your waist and he kissed your temple. You cuddled more onto his body, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck while giving him wet kisses at the same time you caressed his length with the pads of your fingers, making him buck his hips up slightly as he threw his head back, hissing between his teeth. You grazed your fingers through the trimmed hairs around his cock, enjoying the feel of short curls and soft, burning skin—building his anticipation.  
     “You’re so hot,” You whispered against his ear, moving your hand higher to lift his shirt up. “Touch me.” You spread your legs open and guided his hand right where you needed him the most.  “Feel what you do to me?” The only response you got was a harsh breath while his thick fingers spread your arousal, lubing you all over with his entire hand, almost. “How wet you got me with just a kiss?”
     “Yes,” he barely said. 
     “I want you.” You pulled his shirt over his head with his help giving him an assuring look. “Always.”
     He tossed it to the floor and enveloped you into his arms going for a hungry kiss, almost covering his body with yours. Then you finally fisted his strong cock. He was so hard. So thick. So smooth. And you needed him so badly. 
     You let out a needy whine into his mouth to let him know how much you truly wanted him and slowly began to stroke his cock, pumping up and down with short movements. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before resting your head over his chest and stayed there as you pleased him, his low grunts right there next to your ear. 
     The view of his entire body was glorious. You kept stroking him, moving the skin down a little lower each time until the head was fully exposed. You had to squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the aches that increased just by the memory of his cock inside you. 
     He was still somewhat tense, though, and you felt this sudden urge to show him how you loved his body just how he was–how horny he made me. You’ve loved every phase his body has been through, loved it when he was fit when he went through a rough time being at his thinnest but you couldn’t deny that since he put on some healthy weight it had done nothing but wonders in every aspect. 
     His clothes fit better, his cuddles were even more cuddly, and sex—even when it’s always been mind-blowing—the feeling of his bigger body changed it for the better whether he was on top of you, behind, the side, or under. 
     He was the most fascinating creature. 
     “Touch yourself,” You murmured in his ear, letting go of his cock to run your hands over his stomach and chest. 
     His hand went to fist his erection without hesitation. Of course, him being him, the pace increased violently and fast. And the more he stroked the more his stomach rose and fell as his breathing grew harsh. His other hand caressed you the entire time, going from your waist down to your ass over and over, mimicking in some way the hand rhythm he kept around his cock. 
     You placed a soft kiss on his already sweaty chest and he hummed with such pleasure when you moved a little lower, kissing his left nipple and sticking your tongue out just a bit to tickle him. His nipples were very sensitive and though he’d never said it, you knew he liked it when you spent some time licking and kissing them because instead of stopping me, he’d dig his fingers into my body just as he was doing it now. So you moved your attention to the other, this time giving it an open-mouth kiss. 
     Then you lowered yourself even more to place loving kisses over his tummy, though your eyes were stuck on how he kept jerking off; his large hand wrapped perfectly around his cock and his wedding band sparkled with the soft lights, reminding you how he was yours and only yours. 
You kneeled next to him and lowered yourself to spit on the tip of his cock, which he spread along his erection right away, then spat one more time before returning your attention back to his stomach. Licking him, gently biting him with soft pecks in between. 
     You adjusted yourself next to him again and stayed there for a moment, just being his muse witnessing how he was getting himself off to the thought and sight of you. The look on his face turned you on even more, a soft frown and mouth slightly parted. You loved watching him touch himself while all you did was kiss his body and roam your hands across his torso. 
     But soon you needed something too and in the next instant, you were straddling him, making him stop all the way to grab you by your hips. 
     “Keep going.” You leaned down to lick his earlobe and began to rock your hips right there on his stomach. 
     An instant relieved moan escaped me. This was different. 
     You’d used other parts of his body to stimulate yourself like that—thighs, knees—but even after all the years you’ve been together, it never occurred to you to do it against the body part that’s definitely been your favorite for a long time now. 
     And it worked perfectly. 
     His soft and burning skin combined with the trail of hairs around and down his navel added an out-of-this-world feel that it didn’t take much for the pleasure to build inside your walls, fluttering and clenching and unclenching around nothing. 
      “Fuck, I’m gonna come already,” you blurted out high-pitched and embarrassingly quick when you felt the pleasure taking over you.
    You needed him closer. You lowered your entire body, laying on top of him pressing yourself even more against him, and kept grinding him. It only made him encourage you even more, stealing a kiss and smiling big. 
     “That’s it,” he whispered, moving his lips to the corner of your mouth and then sucking on the underside of your chin.
     He wanted you to come right there on his stomach. 
     You allowed yourself to lose control, sitting up straight and tilting your hips in every direction as there were only stars in my eyes. 
      “Ah! Oh my— mmm!” you cried out a long whine, supporting your hands on his chest, digging your nails into his chest.
      “God, you’re something else, honey.” Aaron ran both hands up and down your back then squeezed your ass tight and loudly spanked your left cheek once just to go back to jerk himself off hurriedly as if there was no tomorrow, making your entire body shake. 
     His other hand groped your breasts as he was nothing but low groans, squirming under me. He brought you down to him with one arm and held you tight while hiding his face on your neck. His three-day beard scraped your skin and the curse words he rarely said almost got inked on your skin. You moved a little lower so his cum would land somewhere near you because you needed to feel it. He read you right away and aimed what was left of him to your ass. 
     Each warm drop tickled you so good. You needed him more than ever now. 
     “Can you go again?” 
     He nodded in pain. You reached for his cock behind you and teased yourself in between your cheeks. Then making eye contact you sank on him–slow and deep–both exhaling the same intense breath.
     His cock was still twitching. You squeezed around him to feel him even more and stayed there.
     “Can you?” You barely asked again.
He reached for the towel over the headboard and blindly cleaned his cum off your ass before flipping you onto your back without a warning, pushing his hips into you as deep as he could be.
     “Yeah, I can.” He smirked. Then pulled out, brushing the head of his cock over your clit and smacking it a few times before entering you again with one violent slam that made you smile as big as it made you gasp for air. 
     “That’s so good.” You bit your bottom lip, and when he couldn’t be any more deep, he let his weight fall over you and started to rock his hips.
     Then he went all the way in. Hard—so hard. 
     His entire body towered over yours, his broad shoulders and arms flexed and relaxed with each of his thrusts and you clung onto him like a koala, legs, and arms wrapped around him to never let him go. 
     With your eyes closed, you kept your focus on how good he filled you, how his balls smacked you ass each time he slammed into you and how the wiry hairs of his lower stomach rubbed perfectly against your clit. 
     You grabbed his face and your mouths clasped together as both were moaning so damn loud. 
     “You fuck me so good.” You stared right into his eyes. 
     “You feel incredible.” He brushed his lips over yours as he spoke. 
     “I do?”
     “Yeah.”
     “How good?”
     “So damn good, honey.”
     He captured your mouth again and slam after ruthless slam sank you into the mattress even more and god, how good it felt. Almost his entire weight crushed you and wherever his skin touched yours, left a thin layer of his sweat. He kissed you with tongue twice before lifting his torso off you to look down. You did the same and the view turned you on even more; his cock slipping in and out of me, glistening with arousal. 
      “Look at that,” he murmured at the same time you murmured, “Harder.”  
     You both lifted our heads and locked eyes. The eyes you fell in love with too long ago and that still lit up your stomach on fire and melted your heart. 
     He smiled at you, making those lines on either side of his cheeks disappear into those dimples that drove you crazy.
      “I love you,” he said before lifting one of your legs up to his shoulder and leaning down again with his forehead pressed on your shoulder and began to plunge into you again. 
     “Gosh, I love you too,” you responded out of breath. He started to go harder as you’d asked, shoving your hips together. 
     You moaned in sync turning the quiet night not so quiet and kept going. 
     Until your age showed up. 
     “Ah! My leg!”  you laughed in pain and tapped his arm when your calf started to cramp. “Put my leg down!” He heard you, but instead, he caressed your calf with his cheek. “Hotch! I’m not that flexible anymore.” 
     “Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, putting your leg down gently and pressing his forehead with yours. 
     “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you laughed too. 
     He hummed as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth and kept the same rhythm, then he did that thing where he rolled his hips so deep–unbearably exquisite. One. Two. Three times before he groaned as he came for the second time now, giving up over you all the way and maintaining short thrusts, emptying himself in you completely. 
     You kissed his sweaty brow and he was about to get up when you forced him back onto you. “Stay a little bit.”
     You wanted him on top of you forever, like this, panting, sweating, and kissing you as if it were the last time he’d do it. 
     “I’m so in love with you, all of you.” You wiped a patch of sweat off his forehead with your thumb. 
     His eyes scanned your face up and down but said nothing, he just went back to kiss you. 
     You stayed there staring at each other and regulating your breathing between more soft kisses until you were finally back in all your senses. 
     “That was–” he started.
     “Hot,” You finished, running your fingers through the salty strands on the sides of his hair that twinkled with the faint lamp lights. 
     “And amazing,” he nodded as he raised his brows with a laugh, the little wrinkles above them deepening.
     Right then, you couldn’t wait to keep growing older with him. 
     He gave you one last kiss and this time you couldn’t stop him, as much as you wanted. 
     “Wait, wait, wait! The sheets...” Your voice faded as you were unable to stop his cum from dripping out of you. “I just put them this morning.”
     He gave you a wicked grin but didn’t take his eyes off what you knew was his favorite thing about finishing having sex. He licked his lips and brought his fingers in between your legs, spreading his cum all over, not caring at all about our brand-new sheets.
     “I can change them again tomorrow.” 
1K notes · View notes
planetdream · 2 months
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AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !
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CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader
GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]
WORDS ! 3.3k
SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.
THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk
💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3
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There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.
About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.” 
Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered. 
By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation. 
It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked. 
When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.
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You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them. 
You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.
As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise. 
The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action. 
The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case. 
Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive. 
But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’
“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.” 
He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue. 
Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour. 
Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him. 
He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt. 
While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt. 
Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright. 
Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust. 
“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know. 
“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan. 
“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.   
In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight. 
You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers. 
It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you. 
“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying  a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”
His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”
“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”
His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.” 
Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him. 
He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt. 
You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole. 
Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”
He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”
Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.” 
He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.
It seems his fun little game has officially started. 
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© PLANETDREAM 2024
956 notes · View notes
pjsfvs · 4 months
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relaxing - sunghoon hc
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paring: bf!sunghoon x gf!afab!reader
genre: smut
warnings: smut, fluff, smoking weed, true love, curvy reader, Protected sex, fingering, hair pulling, shot gunning
word count: 4k
summary: You and Sunghoon spend a rainy weekend in his basement smoking and relaxing to the sound of the rain, which leads to a night of high love making.
a/n: i got some requests in my inbox but i was already writing this so ill write for those and post them either later today or tomorrow because i wont have plans :3 also sunghoon is my bias but ive never wrote something for him which is shocking 😭
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The sound of the rain was what set the mood, the millions of drops pattering against the high windows of Sunghoon's basement sounding through the atmosphere. You laid on your back against the soft cushions of the couch, your eyes closed in a peaceful state as you waited patiently for your boyfriend.
"Alright, babe, we've got weed, video games, and movies; what do you want to do?" Sunghoon spoke cheerfully, closing the basement door behind him as he bounded down the wooden stairs.
"Hm, how about we go for a walk?" Giggling, your body bounced lightly as Sunghoon sat on the opposite end of the couch, lifting your sock clad feet onto his lap.
"Yeah, and catch a cold while we're at it too," He chuckled, rubbing your calf before taking in your appearance. 
You were dressed in a simple pair of grey leggings, which make your ass look great, and a worn v-cut graphic-tee with the Pepsi logo across the chest. Even when you dressed so simple, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he often wondered what he did to have someone so wonderful, other than Jake, in his life.
You opened your dazzling brown eyes, locking your gaze with his. "Why are you looking at me like that, silly?" You giggled, sticking your tongue out as you propped your head on a couch pillow.
"Just thinking about of amazing you are, dork." He countered, squeezing your leg lovingly as he watched your cheeks get a little warm.
"Gosh, you're too much for me," You sighed, covering your face with your hands before peeking out between your fingers, "Let's get high."
Sunghoon smiled, taking his signature white headphones from around his neck and placing them on the coffee table on front of them. "Shot gunning?"
"Shot gunning."
Shot gunning was your preferred way of getting high, ever since meeting Sunghoon that is. The first time you had tried weed, which actually was with Sunghoon, you inhaled too hard and ended up choking on your own breath. Sunghoon insisted that you didn't have to smoke just because he did it, but you insisted on trying it which led to him teaching you a different way of achieving the high without having to touch the blunt herself.
Once everything was set up Sunghoon took the blunt between his finger and thumb before striking the lighter in his other hand, bringing the small flame to the tip and watching it light up. He put the lighter away and took the first hit, breathing deeply and closing his eyes before exhaling, the smoke bellowing out of his parted lips and nose. A few seconds passed before he opened his eyes again, turning his head towards you.
"Ready?"
He watched as you bit your lower lip and nodded, sitting yourself up on the couch before kneeling next to him, their faces level with each other as your eyes stayed locked.
"I need to hear you say you're ready, beautiful."
You felt your face heat up and your heart swell, you always loved how caring he was about making sure you weren't feeling pressured. "I'm ready, Hoonie."
A small smile graced his lips before he brought the blunt up again, taking another slow drag and putting the blunt down, holding his breath. You parted your plump lips and Sunghoon did the same before blowing the smoke into your mouth. The smoke filled your lungs as you breathed in slowly, letting your eyes flutter shut before exhaling the same way, feeling your nerves begin to calm. As you opened your eyes your gaze locked with Sunghoon, who had a goofy smirk on his face.
"I never get tired of seeing that." He grinned, his heart nearly skipping a beat at the half-lidded stare you were giving him. The glow of the various lava lamps he had in the basement illuminated your face in a way that made it seem like you belonged in a pin-up poster, too perfect to be sitting in front of him right now.
"I never get tired of being shot gunned by you." You wistfully replied, a small smile tugging at your lips before another wave of heat rose to your cheeks. "Do you mind if I try something?" Your voice came out small, your gaze averting to the floor as you processed what you were going to do.
"Yeah- I mean, no, go for it," Sunghoon stuttered slightly, an embarrassed smile taking over the proud grin he had.
At his approval, you maneuvered your leg across his thighs before kneeling in front of him, straddling his waist as you sat in his lap. The new, and better, position allowed them both to be able to face each other without having to break their necks to face each other or Sunghoon to turn away to flick the ashes off.
"I-I just thought this would be easier," You spoke lightly, your hands picking nervously at each other in your lap. Sure, you had been dating for nearly a year, but that didn't stop your nerves from spiking each time you went out on a limb.
Sunghoon felt his cheeks set themselves on fire at the new position, having so much more to worry about than getting a cramp in his neck or side. "Y-Yeah, no, this is great, way better than before, actually." He smiled softly, his left hand resting on your hip lovingly as comfort.
After taking a moment to settle themselves, they began the process again; Sunghoon breathing in the smoke before blowing it into your mouth, allowing you to take in the high as well. He watched as you tilted your head back, sighing the smoke out into the air above them to avoid blowing it back into Sunghoon's face.
Sunghoon tracked your movement, his eyes trailing along your neck, taking in your smooth skin, before delving lower into what the cut of your t-shirt allowed him to see. He took in the details of your collarbones, just slightly protruding out, and the view of your breasts, which were slightly elevated due to the bra you wore. He wouldn't consider himself a person who gets horny while high, but with the view that was given to him in this very moment he could make an exception.
Thus, the process continued, rotating until the blunt was nothing but ash, leaving you and Sunghoon in a haze of smoke and lust as they grew closer to each other; you sat comfortably in Sunghoon's lap as he held onto your hips, his hands casually gripping your curves. Your foreheads rested on each-others, your noses slightly bumping as you relished in the high together, needing nothing but each other and the constant downpour of the rain.
"Sunghoon..." You breathed, your eyes staying closed as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck lovingly.
Sunghoon hummed, not feeling the need to use words as he steadily continued to trace patterns on your skin.
"Can I wear your hoodie?" Your voice was small and calm as you placed your hands on his shoulders, lifting your head back to open your eyes.
Sunghoon felt his eyebrows furrow as he opened his eyes, meeting his girlfriend's blown-wide pupils. "Are you sure you won't get too hot?" He mused, stilling his thumbs against your sides.
You huffed lightly, a cute pout on your lips, "It's always pretty cold in here, besides; I'll just take off my shirt, see?" As if to prove your point, or rather claim, you reached for the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulled it over your head, dropping it to the floor behind you, leaving you in a simple black bra, goosebumps immediately rising against your skin from the change in temperature.
Sunghoon felt a stir in his lower stomach, his eyes quickly flicking to your breasts that rested in the cups of your bra, your chest moving in tune with the breaths you were taking. "Y-You didn't have to, you know?" He gaped, scanning over the new flesh that lacked all the marks he now wanted to make.
"I know," You smirked, bringing your face to his ear, "I could feel that you've been staring for a while now, I just wanted to give you a better view." You murmured seductively before nibbling at his earlobe, causing his grip to tighten on your hips with a gasp.
"In that case you're gonna have to help me now." Sunghoon moaned, his hips lifting slightly to rub against your core easily through your leggings.
Your movements were slow and languid, trailing kisses from his jaw to his lips, catching them in a deep kiss as you moved herself closer to be directly in his lap. Sunghoon allowed his hands to move from your hips to your waist, caressing the soft, plump skin he was met with, the warmth welcoming his hands.
Moments like this were quite possibly his favorite; the slow, lethargic kisses they both shared, even when they were both sober. He loved the feel of you pressed against him, no insecurities or worried clouding your judgement as you allowed yourself to be free and be comfortable with him, which only made you hotter.
"So, what do you say?" You finally spoke as their lips parted, ghosting against each other, "Can I?" You gazed at him with a fire of seductive confidence behind your eyes, the look only fueling the desire Sunghoon had to take you right in that moment.
He was practically rendered breathless from staring at you, almost forgetting to answer your awaiting question. "Definitely."
You engulfed his lips into a slow, yet heated kiss; lips smacking and tongues clashing in an instant of lust before they both broke away, a new spark igniting within the both of them. You took a second to stare at each other, breathing heavily before they broke into frantic movements.
Sunghoon shifted sporadically, pulling the hoodie up at any angle he could, nearly getting it stuck on his head and glasses as you frantically struggled to get your bra off, trying your best to keep your balance as Sunghoon wiggled and jerked, muttering and cursing here and there. The red death trap finally released its hold on Sunghoon, and he was met with the glorious sight of you dangling your bra on your finger, using your other hand to muffle your bubbling giggles.
"I'm glad you find me funny." He readjusted his glasses and took your hand away from your mouth, leaning himself forward to place a kiss on your lips.
"And I'm glad you don't mind me crushing you," You giggled again, nuzzling your nose against his own, causing him to blush before sucking his teeth at you.
"You could never." He murmured, kissing your cheek, then neck, before following up with another kiss on your lips, "You're perfect, besides, more cushion for the pushin'." As he said this he moved his hands to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze and earning himself a squeak of surprise.
"God, you're a dork." You sighed blissfully as moved his hands to your chest, massaging your breasts while he worked on decorating your neck in red. You felt the texture of his tongue run along a particularly sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shiver and his lips to curl into a smile before he sucked on the portion of skin.
"As long as I'm your dork, I'm okay with that."
He continued to litter your neck and chest with open-mouthed kisses, pinching your nipples teasingly before rolling them between his forefinger and thumb, hearing your gasps of pleasure as you gently tugged at his hair. Moving his head lower, he placed a few kisses at the top of your breasts before taking your right nipple into his mouth, licking tentatively at the hardening bud, still twisting at the unoccupied one.
You whimpered lightly, tilting your head back faintly as you held the back of his head, grinding down on the hardening bulge in his jeans for much needed friction. You felt him groan against your skin, lifting his hips to press into your core as you continued to grind onto him.
Without a moment to spare, Sunghoon moved on to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the right while he used his right hand to travel down your side, reaching the hem of the leggings. Before he could move any further, he felt you hand grab his, lifting it away from your hip.
"Nuh uh, shirt off first, you gotta finish this level before moving on, Hoonie," You taunted breathlessly, a small smirk grazing your lips as he released your breast with a small pop.
"Oh, I love when you speak video game," He groaned softly, flashing you a smile as he leaned away from you, reaching behind him to pull off his t-shirt and toss it off the side of the couch. "Now, pants?"
"Pants." You nodded, pushing yourself off of his lap to stand, allowing him to do the same.
Sunghoon's hands eagerly went to his belt buckle, rushing to undo the buckle and get the slightly tighter pants off of him, while you turned your back to him; bending over to give him a show as you pulled your leggings off, grinning as you heard Sunghoon groan.
"Leggings on you are a weapon to me, babe." He huffed in success as he finally pushed off his jeans, kicking them off in a pile behind him before coming face to face with you again.
You stared at each other for a heartbeat before Sunghoon chuckled, "Should we take off our underwear too before we go back to sitting?"
You thought for a second before huffing out a laugh, "Yeah, we probably should."
After taking off their underwear they resumed the previous position on the couch, kissing passionately as you hovered over his hardened cock, brushing against it every now and again with your wet cunt causing Sunghoon to shiver. He slid his hand between both of their bodies, using his finger to delve between your lower lips, feeling your wetness collect on his fingers. You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body shiver in excitement as his finger prodded at your slit before slowly sliding into your pussy; pumping a few times before he added a second, feeling your walls stretch around him.
"Sunghoon..." You moaned softly once you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his as he continued to finger you, feeling the digits slightly curl inside of you. You gasped, shortly realizing what he was searching for as he picked up the pace, his thumb starting to rub small circles on your clit.
"Almost..." He murmured, keeping his eyes on your face as he curled his fingers again.
You inhaled sharply, tilting your head back as a loud moan escaped your lips. "Sunghoon!"
"There we go." Sunghoon grinned as he continued to thrust his fingers into your warmth, feeling your juices coat his digits as you hovered above his lap. He felt your walls clench as your hips bucked into his hand, moving his thumb faster across the sensitive bud of nerves; watching as your lips stayed parted to accommodate for the moans spilling out, eyelashes resting against the tops of your cheeks.
Your entire being exuded bliss, borderline pornographic as Sunghoon felt himself grow harder at the sight, if that was even possible at this point.
"H-Hoonie, I'm close-" You whimpered, your fingers finding their way into his hair as you leaned your head into his shoulder, tugging at the black strands while moaning into his skin, feeling the knot tighten within your abdomen.
"Come on baby, cum for me," He moaned, feeling your thighs begin to shake as your moans became constant.
As he pressed his fingers into your g-spot you let out a loud moan, shaking as your walls pulsed and convulsed around his fingers. Sunghoon continued to slowly pump his fingers inside of you, easing you down from your climax as he felt you panting against his neck, leaving small kisses against the warmth of his skin.
After a moment you sat up once again, gazing into his eyes with nothing but pure love and admiration before pulling him into a slow kiss. "Now it's your turn," You murmured against his lips, a smile growing on your own as you reached for the signature hoodie that started all of this. You easily slid the article over your body, feeling the slightly scratchy fabric of the inside envelope you in warmth and the scent of Sunghoon before digging around in the front pocket to take out a condom he usually had stashed there for 'safe keeping'.
Sunghoon was breathless as he took in the heavenly sight before him; his girlfriend with your slightly messed up hair and flustered face wearing his hoodie, his hoodie, slightly large over your frame with nothing underneath as you held out a condom. Sure, you had worn his hoodie numerous times before, but this was a sight unlike any other, and boy was he enjoying it. He was snapped out of his trance once he felt your hand wrap around his cock, pumping it gingerly as he shivered, not realizing how touch deprived he felt. "F-Fuck," He breathed, rutting his hips into your hand subconsciously.
You gasped lightly, the sound of his moan shooting directly to your core as you continued to pump him a bit faster, collecting the drops of precum that leaked out of the tip with your thumb and spreading it around.
"I-If you keep it up we're gonna have to wait fifteen minutes to do this again." He whimpered out a laugh, his hand wrapping around your wrist to stop your movements with a serious look. You nodded, chewing your lower lip before tearing open the packet, taking the lubricated condom between your fingers before moving off of his lap a bit to slide it along his dick; the rubber coating him almost like a second skin.
Moving yourself closer to him once again, you took his length in your hand to line him up with your slit, feeling the tip rub slightly against your pussy lips with a small moan. "Ready?"
Sunghoon nodded up at you, his hands holding your hips for support as you hovered above him, so close yet still so far.
"I need to hear you say you're ready, handsome," You breathed, a light of playfulness shining behind your eyes.
"I'm ready, baby," He practically groaned, making a mental note to get back at you for making him wait.
Nodding, you slowly slid yourself down on his cock, feeling his girth stretch your walls slightly as you continued to go down on him; a moan escaping both of your lips once your pelvises met.
Sunghoon bit his lip, fighting the urge to press your to his body and fuck you relentlessly as he felt you clench around him. You let out a small breath before steadying yourself against his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders and lifting your hips until only the head was inside of you before sinking down once again, a rush of pleasure coursing through your like electricity.
You continued the motion, speeding up once you heard Sunghoon's soft groan of pleasure; his hands helping you rise and fall against his cock at a steady pace. Opening your eyes, you looked at Sunghoon, watching as his stare was focused on his lap; watching as your pussy slid along his cock with ease. You brought your hands to the sides of his face, gently bringing his head up to meet your eyes, getting lost in the chocolate brown pools surrounded by the rim of his glasses; their breaths mingling together.
Within a heartbeat their lips smashed together, soft moans and whimpers escaping the both of them as you rode him faster, feeling his fingers squeeze against your hips as he pulled you into him. He pulled you down he thrusted his hips up out of instinct, moaning at the deeper contact he was able to reach.
"Fuck! R-Right there Sunghoon!" You mewled, gripping his shoulders tighter as you bounced, feeling his cock press against your g-spot as he thrusted into you again.
"Go-od you're so tight," He panted as he pulled you harder against him, feeling your walls clench and throb around him, feeling a familiar knot slowly begin to form in the pit of his stomach. "Hold on."
"W-Wha-" You started before you were suddenly pushed to the side, laying on your back while Sunghoon hovered over you, hiking your legs onto his hips and resting himself on his forearms for balance. He pushed himself deeper inside of your dripping pussy, causing you to moan out in pleasure at the new, and better, angle. "Oh, God!"
Sunghoon started out with a few slow thrusts before picking up speed, the sound of your moans and the lewdness of your skin slapping together filling the basement.
"You're so perfect, writhing under me like that, god you're perfect." He murmured against your ear, his words enunciated by his thrusts.
Your hands tangled themselves throughout his black locks, tugging harshly as you squeezed your legs around his hips. Moaning loudly, Sunghoon snapped his hips into yours with a near animalistic growl as he fucked you deeper, compensating for the speed.
"Hoon! Sunghoon, I-" You whimpered, your head pressing into the couch as you arched your body into his, feeling him continuously graze your g-spot with ease.
He sat up, much to your displeasure as your hands fell from his hair and took a moment to take in your position; your body bouncing against each of his thrusts as the hoodie rose up against your stomach, your breasts bouncing underneath the fabric freely while your face was wrapped in an expression of pure pleasure, eyes screwed shut and plump lips open to compensate for the moans that spilled out. He slid a hand down to your clit, rubbing the nub in quick circles in time with his thrusts, cursing when your pussy clenched around his cock once more.
"I know, cum for me beautiful, just for me," He moaned, putting off his own climax to get you to reach your climax first; a gentleman as always.
You felt the pressure in your stomach tighten before snapping completely, your eyes squeezing shut as you came against his cock. You came with a high-pitched moan of his name, your back arching slightly as he continued to thrust inside of you, helping you ride out your climax.
"I- fuck, I'll never get tired of seeing that," Sunghoon grunted, leaning over your body again as his own thrusts began to grow faster and sloppier, burying his head within the crook of your neck, sucking at your supple skin. "God you feel so good."
"G-Go on baby, cum, it's your turn," You moaned, holding him close to you as you raked your nails across his shoulders, bracing yourself against his relentless thrusts.
Sunghoon gave a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered, spilling his seed inside of the condom with a loud moan into your neck. He continued to thrust slowly, riding out his high as you whispered words of comfort, lightly running your fingers across his scalp as he panted heavily.
After a few moments of comforting silence Sunghoon slowly pulled out of you, going to dispose of the used condom before walking back to the couch; pulling on his once discarded boxers and t-shirt with a small smile on his lips. "Come on cutie, let's get you situated," He hummed, swiftly picking up your panties before dangling them in front of you.
"My legs feel like gel-o," You moaned, covering your face with your hands, the sleeves of his hoodie over them like mitts.
"Alright, you get recovery time but remember what they taught us in health class-"
"Yeah, yeah, STI's and all that," You interrupted, snatching the underwear from him as you slid them up your legs, "Cuddle while I recover, Mr. Health Enforcer?"
Chuckling lightly, Sunghoon nodded and sat on the couch, laying back on the opposite end before your maneuvered yourself on top of him; resting your head on his chest while your legs entwined.
"You know," He started, allowing his hands to move to your lower back lovingly, "You look really hot when you have my hoodie on, especially like that."
"I bet that's just the high talking." You murmured, closing your eyes to focus on the beat of his heart through his shirt.
"No, never. You always look hot to me, the hoodie just made it better because its mine, and you're mine, so it's a double whammy." He paused, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to find the right words to say. "You're not hot, actually, you're beautiful, more beautiful than words can describe, and a photo can capture. I love you because you're just, so... Indescribable."
You felt tears prick at your eyes as your heart swelled at his words, snuggling yourself closer to him with a small smile, "And I love you because you're so describable; so real, tangible, there. There are so many words to describe you I'd have to learn all the languages to use them all, and even then I'd be missing some. Every word comes so close yet so far to describing you yet they're all so valid because you're you, you're here, you're real."
Sunghoon squeezed you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "I love you so much."
"I love you too."
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ikeuverse · 3 months
Text
MI AMOR — p.jongseong
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PAIRING: jay x fem!reader GENRES: smut, slight fluff  WC: 3.8k+
WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it up and do it carefully), little plot, a bit of swearing, slaps on the skin, mention of hanging, lmk if i've forgotten anything.
NOTES: my first smut on this account, finally? i confess i'm not happy at all because i tried to get out of my bubble and fulfill some requests. after a long time i'm back to writing this so please be nice because it's not something i usually write. i've done and redone something for jay countless times and this was the only time i found myself (somewhat) satisfied with the writing. let me know what you think, these feedbacks are always welcome and help me to produce more and more. i hope you enjoy it!
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The cold climate of the city contrasted with the warmth of the whisky Jay had drunk a few seconds ago. The slight burn in his throat made him wheeze as he drummed the glass in his fingers.
Arms resting on the table, tired eyes looking around and listening to the middle-aged man with his Spanish accent talk about everything that involved money to him.
It was banal, and uninteresting that Jay was listening to all this while the men laughed at completely idiotic jokes and drank more of their expensive drinks.
"Are you tired, chico?" he asked, catching Jay's eye and he looked up at the man.
Now everyone else was talking about something while the oldest of them was looking in Jay's direction. He gave a quick smile, raising his glass and showing that he had finished his whisky.
"I'm just trying to pick things up…"
"Yes, I see" he came around the table to sit next to Jay, "You don't want to take over your father's things, do you?"
Jay really didn't want to. Being in that environment was not at all what he imagined would happen to his future. Of course, he knew about his father's business, he knew how much money he had and what he did to make it happen. But Jay simply didn't want to be part of it, not when he hadn't asked to be there.
"I assure you it will be quiet, I promise to take care of you" the man's sentence was interrupted by knocks on the door. Slight, but he managed to hear it and nod to Jay as he momentarily turned away "Mi hija."
Jay didn't want to turn around so abruptly because he knew who it was, but it was impossible not to look in your direction when he heard your voice. He'd be lying if he said he'd only accepted that damn meeting in the middle of an even worse week just because he was going to your father's house. Anyway, he'd find you and here you are.
"Hi, papá. I was wondering if you'd finished the meeting" your Spanish accent was much better than your father's, that's for sure. Jay loved it.
"Am I keeping him too long?" your father asked, making you roll your eyes as the older man made room for your figure to appear in Jay's field of vision.
He shuddered as soon as your eyes met, you looked beautiful. Like never before. And it wasn't anything fancy or anything like he always used to see when his parents got together. You were wearing simple, completely casual clothes and your loose hair gave your figure even more comfort.
"I don't think you can leave him there knowing that he doesn't feel comfortable" you said afterward, still looking at Jay as you beckoned him to come closer.
And he did. He didn't want to listen to any more of those men while you were calling him in such a graceful and unique way. The boy's feet just moved towards you and stopped close enough to you, still remembering the figure of his father next to the two of you.
"Can we continue this conversation later, Park?" your father asked, his voice serious but not at all angry.
"Of course" Jay greeted him and waited for you to leave the room before following behind you.
A considerable distance in that huge corridor as the footsteps headed towards the elevator. Once your father had closed the door and the two of you were waiting, Jay finally managed to slip one of his arms around your waist and pull your body against his. Your back pressed against Jay's chest, your hand on his arm sliding down to his hand resting on your stomach.
"How did you know I was here?" he whispered between your hair, his lips moving down to your neck and placing a kiss there. That gave you a slight shiver before you pulled away from Jay as soon as the elevator arrived.
The two of you entered and you quickly pressed the button to the first floor to get out.
"I saw your car in front of the mansion" you said so simply that he didn't have anything to say.
Jay hadn't parked thinking you'd recognize him. He had the perfect plan to text you and ask you to meet him in front of his house because he would already be there. But you found him first.
"So you recognize him?" Jay joked and hugged you again, this time facing you and placing a kiss on the top of your head.
"Impossible not to recognize him when we've lived through so much in there, mi amor."
He laughed out loud at your response, but knowing full well that it was all true. Being with you in any corner of the house, his car, or the city, had a little piece of you both. There were memories that you both shared, with Jay between your legs or with the marks of your mouth all over his body. Jay wanted to remind you of him in every way.
"Come on, I'll get you out of here" he intertwined his fingers in yours as the elevator opened, quickly leaving and heading for his car.
"And where are you taking me?" you asked. Your hands were still intertwined with his, but you didn't let go until you reached Jay's car.
He unlocked and opened the door for you, letting you in on the passenger side while he quickly turned around to get in on the driver's side.
"You know the mountain overlooking the sea that Sunghoon mentioned last week?" Jay glanced at you as he started the car and pulled out from where it was parked.
"That he went with his girlfriend? I think I know" you tried to remember, knowing that he and Sunghoon talked about a lot of things and even if you knew them all, it was always good to try to remember.
"We never had sex there, did we?" you almost choked at Jay's sudden question, glancing up quickly when he felt your gaze on him, laughing as you imagined the horrified expression on his face. But he had to pay attention to the road in the meantime. "Answer me, mi amor" he slid his hand up your thigh, squeezing it even though the restriction of your pants prevented him from touching your skin.
"Never" you replied.
"Good" he managed to look at you for a few seconds, squeezing your thigh even tighter before turning his attention back to the road.
That would be another place you and he would claim, as you had done with almost every corner of the city you had visited together.
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The contact of Jay's fingertips with your skin sent shivers throughout your body. He took all the time in the world with you, from taking you to the back of the car to undressing you slowly while you sat on his lap, kissing you just as slowly.
In those moments when Jay felt he needed you even more than usual, it was good to be able to enjoy every little moment you could.
The view of the mountain had been forgotten the second you both jumped into the back seat, knowing that the real journey there hadn't been the view from outside the car. You two could do that later, perhaps.
Nibbling on Jay's lower lip, you heard him hiss softly at the slightly better contact between the undersides of both your bodies after you'd got rid of your pants and were down to your underwear.
He loved feeling you. He loved everything you were capable of doing to his body and that's because the two of you were only kissing at the moment, but Jay felt so aroused that the tightness of his boxer shorts was beginning to show.
"I missed you so much" he whispered after a while in silence.
The breeze outside was the only sound apart from the kiss you two shared. You smiled, moving your face away from him enough so that Jay could look at you in the dim light of the night.
Your beauty was unreal. He couldn't tell you how lucky he was to be able to have you with him and call you his girlfriend. Jay knew that you were worth more than any money his father could have made from those businesses.
Making millions, leading things he didn't even want to know about, none of that compared to having met you. The scenario itself wasn't the best, you were his father's business partner's daughter, but seeing you at a fortnightly party while you blew off every man who came your way made Jay sigh. He would be the next to get dumped, you wouldn't give a chance to the man who didn't even want to be there in the first place.
But Jay was taken aback when he needed a breather and left the hall, finding you leaning against a bench and staring off into the distance. Talking to you that night only started what you and he had slowly built up to.
Did you also think the same, how Jay was the only one who managed to win your heart? You knew which men your father worked with and you'd be lying if you said you didn't look at any of them. But you'd be honest enough to say that no one had caught your eye like Jay did.
He was different from all the others because he was there with you. After all, you were... You. Not because you were the daughter of someone like your father. Jay didn't even care about that, to tell you the truth. He only focused on you and only you.
"Mi amor" Jay's whisper brought you out of your thoughts, his hand now resting on your ass and squeezing the flesh without too much force when you looked down. You were sitting perfectly aligned on the head of his cock, evident by the erection almost bursting through the fabric.
Your eyes went up to Jay's face and he smiled lazily, his mouth pink from the newly shared kiss as his hand squeezed a little tighter at the same second that your hip – involuntarily – brushed against his.
"Baby, fuck" he moaned, feeling his boxers get wet with pre-cum and knowing that his slide was only being made easier because you were just as wet as he was. Your wetness slowly spread as you rolled your hips back.
"What? Do you want to see the view then, mi amor?" you teased, nibbling on Jay's cheek and trailing your lips down to his jaw. Your moan was so sly when your boyfriend's hands pushed your panties aside enough for him to slide his hand down to your pussy.
Parting your lips and collecting a good amount of your juices, Jay let his fingers move slowly up and down your pussy until he found your clit.
"I'm having the best of it" he whispered, circling your clit with ease due to how wet you were.
Your moan was music to his ears as his fingers worked on circling your swollen, needy muscle. Jay knew how sensitive you were in that area and paying attention to that before anything else was something he prioritized, even if his cock was starting to ache from how much it was throbbing to be inside you.
"Jay, I need..." his fingers slid down your pussy until he had two of them in your hole, squeezing them as he began to pump in and out.
"What do you need?" he asked. You wanted to punch him for his audacity, even though he was being careful while he fucked you with his fingers in such a delicious way. Hitting specific spots and pressing his thumb on your clit "Tell me. I want you to tell me, y/n."
Motherfucker. Jay was a cute son of a bitch for being like that even when he wasn't degrading you and wanting to take care of every inch of your body.
You rolled over with his fingers inside you, one of your hands going to the hair on the back of his neck and pulling Jay's face back against the back of the seat. From that angle, his neck was even more visible to you and the marks you would leave on his tanned skin would be a reminder of what it was like the first time the two of you were on that mountain in his car.
"Baby" he whimpered as your teeth slid across his skin, nibbling and muffling his moans as Jay's fingers slid in and out of her wet pussy. The lewd sound of wetness made your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you still nibbled on it and made your way to Jay's earlobe.
"I love your fingers, you know" your voice was charged with arousal and you were panting, you wanted to moan when Jay stopped moving them, wanting to pay attention to you. But that didn't stop you from contracting your pussy and squeezing his fingers, causing your boyfriend to bring his other hand up to your thigh to slap you.
The burning on your skin combined with how fucked up you were just from being in that position and how you both were. You weren't going to come at that moment.
"But I love it even more when I have your cock inside me."
"Is that what you want?" Jay asked, his fingers slowly pulling out of you. You didn't have to be a master to know that now it was your turn to work, lifting your hips enough for him to take off your boxers and help you out of your panties, abandoning them along with everything else on the floor of the car.
That's exactly what you wanted. It was his cock that you'd been craving ever since you and Jay got into the back seat of the car. So that's what he was going to give you anyway. But not before teasing you some more.
Holding the base and taking advantage of the angle you were at so he could enter you, Jay ran the tip of his cock all over your pussy. Only pre-cum could help it go in easily, especially as his fingers had worked hard enough to make you wet for him too. But you knew it wouldn't stop there.
Circling your clit with the tip of his cock, then going down your hole and teasing where you wanted him at that moment. Jay didn't enter you, just stroking everything he could and collecting as much of your juices as he could to wet his cock.
"You're..."
"I'm what?" he asked, at which point Jay's cock released itself as soon as it was at your entrance and, rolling his hands to your hips, he pulled you down and thrust himself into you in one go "Say it, mi amor."
He ordered his voice raspy, a moan caught in his throat as your pussy hugged him so tightly. In such a delicious way that it fit so perfectly.
A few seconds passed before your hands went to his face, holding him so close and feeling Jay's breathing hitch as your hips began to work.
"You're a motherfucker" you laughed softly, letting him kiss you as you moaned through his movements.
Jay wanted you to take the lead that night, bouncing on his cock and slapping your ass against his thighs as you sat down the way you wanted. He wanted to feel you, he wanted to go deep inside you, but with your movements. It was the night that Jay needed you so badly, but at the same time, he didn't want to be rude. So making you sit on him was a way of being able to look at you and appreciate your features in front of him. The movement of your body going up and down, your chest pressed against his as your mouth opened to moan his name when the kiss became too much to bear.
He loved fucking you, loved swearing at you as he shoved his cock roughly into you. Jay loved going slow and making love, hearing you declare yourself, and being able to declare yourself too. But unlike all that, nothing could compare to the needy sex he loved to have with you.
As if every time his cock hit its sweet spot, he needed to hold onto any part of your body without letting go of you. Afraid that you would run away or get away from him before it was all over. That was when Jay allowed himself to be vocal all the time, with his hands squeezing your hips and leaving even stronger marks so that you would remember the next morning what the two of you had done.
Jay didn't want it to ever end, least of all with the stuffy air inside the car, the sounds of skin slapping, and your moans mingling with his. One thing fits into another to make that sex one of the best yet.
You gave in to Jay when you felt his hands go to your ass, gripping your buttocks tightly as your hips began to wobble. He knew you'd come at any moment – he wasn't much different – so helping you wouldn't be a problem.
Lifting you there, up and down on his cock, Jay tilted his hips in search of more contact to go to your limit, where his cock reached you and made you scream his name without caring if anyone else was out there to hear you two. All that mattered was how much you needed your boyfriend and how good he made you feel.
"Jay, mi amor..." you whimpered to him as your stomach gave the all-too-familiar feeling it was coming. Your hands, which were still holding his face, slid up to Jay's neck and one of them grabbed him by the throat. You didn't think about that act, being the only visible place you could hold on to as he leaned in to get you fucked before you both reached the edge.
"I know, baby. I know, come with me" the brushing of lips against each other, the uneven breathing as you moaned his name and he moaned yours.
You'd already forgotten the sting of Jay's nails digging into your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock and matching the movements with his hips thrusting into you. Your fingers on his neck tightened a little, by instinct, and that made Jay's eyes widen.
For a second he stopped his movements and stared at you. You stared back, not knowing what had happened, ready to open your mouth and ask him what was going on.
"Do it again" he ordered.
"What?" you swallowed, your throat dry from keeping your mouth open too long and your eyes searching for an answer to what your boyfriend had said.
"Squeeze..." he whispered "Your hand on my neck again, please."
Your eyes rolled to where he had said it, noticing only now that his hand had wrapped around her neck. Of course, it was nothing compared to when Jay did that, like a human necklace around your neck when he held you there. But you could see the effect it had on him when the orbs darkened and Jay thrust his cock deep into you again.
A scream and a moan came from your throat as the movements resumed, and you squeezed his neck again with your fingertips, using a little more force and seeing his eyes close in the process. Jay couldn't believe that this would make him come even more easily.
He could ask you to do it again and again if he had to, because it was something new that had made his cock throb even more inside you.
With your free hand, you leaned on the back of the seat next to Jay's head, helping to lift his hips as you squeezed his neck and let him fuck you into oblivion.
"Come with me, mi amor" your whisper was a warning that your knot was bursting, that you were going to come and you wanted him to be on the same frequency. And he was.
Because as soon as everything broke, your pussy contracted on his cock as you came. It didn't take half a second for Jay to spill inside you, hot jets of cum invading you as his cock was milked by every spasm of your twitching pussy.
He moaned your name with his lips parted, so inviting that you couldn't stand it, and nibbled on the bottom one, taking it between your lips while still riding Jay through the rest of the orgasm until there was nothing left.
The next few minutes were spent with Jay carefully getting you off his lap and reaching for the shirt he was wearing earlier to clean you up. Carefully because of the overstimulation and how sensitive you were.
You wanted to remain sitting on his lap, cuddled up to your boyfriend who was still trying to normalize his breathing little by little.
"I missed you, you know that?" Jay said after a while in silence, glancing quickly outside to notice the darkness of the night and then looking back at you. Exhausted, your skin is illuminated by the reflection of the moonlight and the sweat from your sudden activities. Jay cracked a wide smile at that.
"Why didn't you tell me you were there? I missed you too and I could have gotten you out of that room so quickly..."
"I know. I'm sorry, mi amor" Jay let you kiss his lips in the process, hugging your body to his, both of you tired "I wanted to try and surprise you."
"And you did it by bringing me here" you said with your lips still close to his, hearing your boyfriend's laugh even though it was low.
"How about we see the other view now? Or do you want to continue?" Jay asked.
You seemed to think for a moment, looking at him and then out of the car before letting out a sigh.
"A bit of that view wouldn't be a bad idea" you shrugged "But we can come back here later, we've got all night."
It was your turn to laugh when Jay looked shocked, but then grateful that you'd said that since he didn't want to leave too soon. He wanted to enjoy all the time he had with you.
The truth was that the boy didn't like anything his family was involved in, nothing his father had in mind for his future. But being in that environment had led Jay to you.
So perhaps the only good thing about being there was that he had you by his side. And for that Jay would always be grateful.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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Note
Hi beautiful, you can make one where Hyunsu has dirty fantasies about the reader, he is in love but is too shy to admit it. then his monster jokes him and makes a move to the reader.
I really like your writing xoxo
Cha Hyunsu X Reader
Genre: Slight smut
Warning ⛔️: slight smut
(Kind of short)
Small summary💕: Chan Hyun Su couldn’t deny that he was deeply in love with you but he was just to shy to openly admit it to anyone let alone you , he grown a small habit to watch you whenever you went out alone just to make sure your okay
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It was so wrong .. Hyun su knew it was wrong as his checks started to turn red , eyes widen in shock but for some reason he couldn’t look away
He kept telling his self that he was just making sure you were safe like he alway did when ever you decided to go alone or sneak off thinking he wouldn’t notice but he does … he always does
As his muscles becomes tense , softly biting at his lip , quickly shaking his head at he tries to get rid of the thoughts that starts to cloud his mind causing him to feel a way he never felt before , minding starting to wander
As he pictures him being on top of you , pounding deep inside your dripping pussy as you let out such sweet moans
Your nails scratching at his back causing him to let out deep groans as he speeds up his thrust , grabbing at your throat slightly as he feels your walls tighten around his dick , back arching off the bed as you let out a loud moan
“H-Hyun su” you moan out eyes rolling to the back of your head as your brain starts to become fuzzy , chocking on your moans as he starts to pound in your dripping pussy with a inhuman speed
Leaning towards your neck as he starts to leave wet and sloppy kiss over your neck leaving bruises every once in a while as he feels you clutch down on his cock causing him to groan as he starts to attack your lips with a violent kiss
Pulling away after a few seconds as you both gasp for air , as Hyun Su’s dark brown eyes stare down at you , lips now swollen as you looked fucked out causing his cock to twitch as he thrust becomes deeper hitting your cervix
Shaking his head as he tries to get ride of the dirty thoughts that played in his head , as he feels his face and ears becoming hot as he stares back down at his feet
‘Oh, so that’s your desire’
‘W-What’ Hyun su thought eyes becoming wide as he hears what the monster inside of him says next
‘You want to fuck the brains out of Reader, don’t yah’
‘N-No tahts no-’
Before Hyun su could finish his sentence his eyes turn a bright blue as he slowly raises his head with a huge grin , slowly walking toward you making sure not to make much noise
Quietly steeping out of his clothes as he slowly but quietly steps into the small lake , stopping once he was behind you as his eyes slowly scan you back as he feels his dick twitch under the cold lake water , slowly raise a hand towards your breast as he softly kisses your neck
“H-Hyun su .. what are you d-doing” you moan out as you feel hands strong rough hands slightly squeeze your boobs
“Hyun Su’s asleep right now darling , seems he was to shy.. but it’s okay we’ll make you feel good ,just stay quiet yah”
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red-writes · 5 months
Text
On a dark and stormy night
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professor! izuku midoriya x student! reader
summary: reader is in love with her professor and izuku is weak when it comes to you...
content contains: daddy kink, spanking, squirting, smut, the nickname 'little girl', reader gets her back blown out.
red's note: a little darker than what I typically write also am I slowly developing a daddy kink? who knows
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it's pouring outside but you're not willing to turn around now. your hair is sticking to your face, your jeans are clingy and cold and you can't seem to rid yourself of the chill that the poor weather brings you. your finger hovers over the doorbell, hand shaking as you decide to press the small button. you've been to his house so many times but it feels different right now, feels like you're making a mistake. the lightning that cracks in the sky makes you jump and almost solidifies that gut feeling as truth but as you're about to turn around the door opens.
"y/n?" he asks, then he gasps and pulls you inside. his house is warm and yet you still don't stop shivering.
"you're soaking wet-- how did you get here?" he asks as he runs to the sofa and drapes you in a blanket, every time you've come to his house he always drove you seeing as he lived further than any professor on campus. he ushers you from the doorway after you kick off your shoes and you don't open your mouth to respond, instead you grab his arm and he halts in his tracks.
"are you okay? what's going--" his words get caught in his throat as he witnesses you. you've dropped the blanket onto the floor and you begin undoing the clasp on the front of your top before it slides off your shoulders.
"'m cold professor.." you say, voice small and izuku swallows hard as you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your thighs before kicking them away. you unhook your bra and let your breasts free for deku's eyes to swallow whole.
"please warm me up" you plead as you reach for his hand and place it on your hot mound. izuku swallows yet again and his mouth is held open for a moment before he speaks, shocked at your bold display.
"you don't know what you're doing..what you're asking me to do" he says, but doesn't move his hand.
"don't you want me professor?" you look down at the erection poking against the fabric of his sweatpants. "it looks like you do"
he shakes his head 'no' but again makes no move to push you away and so you walk closer to him, so close that your chests are pressed against each other and he sucks in a breath, he can feel how hard your nipples are through the thinness of his t-shirt. he can't do this, he shouldn't do this. you're his student, someone who admires and looks up to him by indulging in this he would be way out of bounds. he could lose his job, he could lose everything.
"y/n..you're just confused. I know, after having those conversations about your life growing up and your father not really being there for you, having a person like me step into that role has you wanting to cling onto me, to have me fill the void of your dad but I'm not him and we shouldn't be doing this. if you leave now, I'll forget it ever happened. I'll pretend I never saw you like this" he states, firmly although his voice wavers when he feels your wetness soak his fingers from over your panties.
"fine" you say and pull away from him, izuku is relieved, thinking you've finally come to your senses but instead you pull down your underwear and kick them to the side, you bend over the back of his couch and spread your pussy lips open for him to see.
"you're right professor, I want you to be my daddy." you turn your head behind you to look at him and your fingers find your clit as you rub circles onto the twitching bud. "professor, don't you want to be my daddy? please say yes daddy...I need you" you moan and izuku's cock drips pre-cum into his underwear, cock hard and pulsing at your words. his feet are glued to the floor but his eyes are focused on every sway of your hips, every press of your fingers onto your clit.
"daddy, please, come fuck me daddy" you whine as you slip two fingers in your soaking cunt and begin fucking yourself with them. izuku curses under his breath and walks over to you taking your fingers out your cunt, he uses that same arm to pull you up and he smashes his mouth against yours. your hands are quick to find the band of his of sweatpants and shoving the grey fabric down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock. you lean back over the couch and he strokes his cock a few times before pressing the reddened mushroom tip against your fluttering hole. in one even thrust he's fully seated inside of you. the girth of his cock had your hands squeezing the back of the couch for dear life. every thrust he gave you felt like he was knocking the wind straight out of your lungs.
"does my little girl like that? does she love the feeling of her daddy's cock stretching her out?" and your cunt squeezes around his cock at the sound of the nickname falling from his lips.
"yes daddy!" you cry and he does as you ask, his thrusts become harder, rocking your body forward and his cock grinds against that soft spot inside your cunt, making your eyes roll as his fat tip assaults it with ease. he slaps your ass and the sting has your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and izuku nearly cums at the feeling. he raises his hand and slaps your ass again, this time you cum from the burning sensation left behind on your ass cheek. your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles underneath him as your orgasm washes over you. but he doesn't stop, he keeps spanking you until your ass is raw and bruised just so he can feel that vice-like grip on his cock. you're well past overstimulated, the feeling of getting your cunt fucked on top of having your ass spanked until it was painful had yet another orgasm drawn out of you a rush of liquid shot out of your cunt and onto the man behind you as well as the floor.
"no..stop daddy 'm squirting! stop stop aah!" you cried but he didn't, he couldn't, not when the girl he'd been lusting after for months finally forces his hand. not when he was so close to cumming. izuku looked up from the place where you two met and looked at your fucked-out face, eyes hazy with drool dripping out the side of your mouth. with a mumbled 'fuck' he felt his balls tighten as he came. his hips didn't stop immediately, his thrusts were shallow and he laid on top of you as he finished emptying his load into you.
he only moved off of you when he felt himself soften inside of you. when he pulled away a mixture of your cum dripped out of you and onto the floor beneath you.
"let's get you cleaned up" he says and you stand back up on wobbly legs and walk until you sit on the couch. he follows you and you pull him by his t-shirt to the floor in front of you and it's clear what you want him to do.
"daddy will you eat your little girls pussy, please?"
izuku gulps. his eyes dart from your eyes to your swollen, ruined cunt. his cock was already beginning to swell with blood once more. you were dangerous but izuku just couldn't resist you.
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rafesgoldrings · 3 months
Text
For Me R.C
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Warnings: gun play, smut, rust smut writing?😭, slight overstimulation, light degradation, not proof read at all, 18+ only
A/N: I’m so sorry if this isn’t up to my usual standard, I haven’t written in so long and there has been so much going on but I wanted to get something out at least so I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and feedback is always appreciated🫶🏻
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“Relax baby, I’m not going to use this on you…not in the way you’re thinking at least” Rafe said smugly, loving the slight fear you had in your eyes while you stared down the gun in his hands.
The two of you were in a…complicated relationship, one that consisted of screaming and saying you hate each other and then an hour later fucking each other until the sun came up. It was toxic, it was abusive, it wasn’t good for either of you, but yet you both stayed. You both chose to continue the cycle because you both knew deep down there was nobody else out there that could make each of you feel the way you did when you were together.
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“Strip and get on the bed, I’ll show you” he watched as you did what he said, loving how much control he had over you. You could deny it all you wanted, tell him you fucking hated him and wished he was dead, but you were his.
“Good girl, now” he paused and walked to the front of the bed, pulling you by your feet so you were on the edge of the bed “spread your legs and spit on the gun sweetheart”
Your eyes widened when you realized what he was going to do, but you couldn’t deny the excitement you felt. How wet you got when you did as he said and spread your legs open for him, glistening pussy on display just clenching around nothing in anticipation. He moved the gun down your body slowly, chuckling at the goosebumps forming on your skin as the cold metal made contact, until he reached your pussy. He rubbed the end of the gun up and down, making sure to brush your clit with it and spread you open, loving the soft whines that slipped through your parted lips.
“God your pussy is so pretty baby, this is going to hurt okay? But you can take it yeah? You can take it because you’re made for me” you nodded your head as he pushed the barrel inside slowly, letting you adjust to the size before pushing it in further. You let out a loud whimper and threw your head back, the feeling of being stretched out with something so dangerous by someone who was just as dangerous making it so much more exciting.
“Oh god Rafe, feels so good. I need more please” he pushed it in more, muttering a small ‘Fuck’ under his breath at the sight of his girl taking his gun inside her tight cunt. How well you were doing for him, how eager you were to make him happy.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you with this gun like the dirty fucking whore you are sweetheart?” You nodded desperately, pushing your hips into his hand trying to do it yourself, but he stopped moving completely and hovered his body above yours.
“Beg me for it. Tell me how much you want me to fuck this pretty cunt with my gun and beg me to cum on it” he whispered in your ear, leaving small kisses down your neck while he just barely pumped the gun in and out of you. You could feel your juices leaking all over it, down your thighs and onto the bed, but you didn’t care. You needed to cum more than anything else.
“Please Rafe, please fuck me with your gun. I need to cum all over it, wanna make such a mess and be your good girl. I’ll do anything, oh god please” the look of pure bliss on your face and the lustful look in your eyes when they met his was enough to make Rafe cum in his pants, he would’ve if he didn’t need to make sure you felt good first.
“Good girl” was all he said before he went back to fucking you, the barrel of the gun hitting your g spot over and over again. The sound of your cries and moans echoing off the walls like an angelic melody.
You could feel yourself getting close, Rafe could tell too with how tight you were clenching around it. Your eyes rolling back in your head and his name falling from your lips like a prayer making his cock strain against his jeans to the point that it hurt. He brought his thumb to your clit and began rubbing it, encouraging you to cum and make a mess for him. Your back arched off the bed, vision going black and ears ringing as you came. Crying out a mix of Rafes name and curse words from the pleasure, he made sure you rode it out before he pulled the gun away.
“Jesus…you’re so fucking pretty baby. You did so good for me” you could just barely hear him, but you felt him kiss your forehead and the faint sound of his belt unbuckling and clothing being tossed to the floor.
“What are you doing? I can’t Rafe, too sensitive” it was fucked up, he knew that, but the way you said it made his cock twitch. The whimper and way you flinched when he brushed your pussy with his hand, your pussy still clenching around nothing… he needed to fuck you.
“Yes you can Y/N, you can for me. You’re made for me so you can take my cock. You can cum one more time for me can’t you pretty girl? You’re going to cum one more time on my cock and then we’ll be done yeah?” He spoke softly, lining his cock up with the opening of your count before pushing in, moaning out at the way you clenched around him.
“Fuck, you feel so good” your hands moved to his back, leaving scratch marks as you whimpered for him. He began thrusting, not slow and gentle but rough and fast. He couldn’t control himself when it came to you, you drove him fucking crazy and you were so pretty.
He knew it wouldn’t be long, he was already close to cumming before he even fucked you, and with each thrust, each whimper and plea that fell through your lips, the intoxicating smell of you filling his nose? It just brought him closer to the edge, his hands on your hips and lips all over your body bringing you closer as well.
“Rafe-“ “I know baby, I know. Cum for me, fucking cum for me” your back arching once more, tits pressed flush agaisnt his chest, pretty moans filling the room, and he was cumming with you. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, his big cock throbbing inside you while he moaned in your ear.
The both of you stayed like that for a while, his cock softening inside you while you both tried to catch your breath. He pulled out causing you to wince and gave you a small apology, his cum spilling out of you. You heard him put his clothes back on before you sat up, makeup ruined and hair a mess. You gave him a confused look wondering why he was getting dressed instead of staying in bed with you like he usually did.
“Gotta go talk to Barry real quick angel, I’ll be back soon” you knew better than to ask questions, it was better for you to be in the dark anyway. That’s what he always told you at least.
You nodded your head and gave him a soft smile, he smiled back before giving you a kiss and walking for the door.
“Stay here pretty girl, I’ll be back soon…I love you”
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kiss-me-cill-me · 3 months
Note
hear me out:) reader wants to try vanilla sex with Dr.Crane since he always has some kind of twist or experiment when it came down to it. And he ends up doing her against the wall and it’s just really intimate. love your works, and it’s totally fine if this isn’t something you would write🤗
I love a challenge haha ;) And I always enjoy getting to explore different sides of a character. While he might not be nice in most of my fics, I do think that Crane has a sweet side. Somewhere in there lmao. Thank you for requesting, anon!
V. planifolia
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Your boyfriend comes home unexpectedly early, and you take the opportunity to try something new.
Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of bondage, mentions of edging, slight overstim, dirty talk, dumbification if you squint, dare I say... some domestic fluff? (in MY Jonathan Crane?!), established boyfriend/girlfriend relationship
A/N: The biggest mental hurdle I had to overcome in writing this was referring to him as "Jonathan" instead of "Crane" lmao. He's just always Crane in my head. And while things are pretty vanilla, he's still sassy, because... well, it is me writing him lol
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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You were so used to your boyfriend coming home late that it was almost a surprise when he showed up just thirty minutes after you'd finished dinner.
“Jonathan?” you called, cautiously getting up from the couch to investigate.
You'd heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, so logic dictated that it couldn't have been an intruder. But it was barely seven o’clock, and Jonathan didn't usually get home until after you were already in bed. He worked long hours; he always had. So you were shocked to see him standing there in the entryway, setting down his briefcase as he closed the door behind him.
“Baby? What are you doing home early?”
At the sound of your voice, he looked up. A small smile fluttered over his face; his eyes pale and tired, until they caught a glimpse of you. There was that mischievous little spark that you loved.
“Sorry to startle you,” he replied. “I can leave if you'd like.”
He was joking, and you laughed a little as your arms wrapped around his waist. Your bodies found each other easily, and you felt yourself sink against him in that comfortable way that you knew so well.
“No way - you're not getting away from me that easily,” you teased.
Your lips brushed against his, and Jonathan pulled you in closer until you were kissing him. As you sighed happily, you realized that it had been - approximately - forever since the last time you'd had an evening alone with him. You pulled away and looked back at him softly; gentle concern tinting your eyes.
“I'm happy you're home, but is everything okay?” you asked. “You really are back early.”
“Everything’s fine,” he assured you.
Jonathan gave you one more squeeze before he gently broke the hug, trailing off in the direction of the living room. You followed, a small skip already creeping into your step. Your smile threatened to break out at any moment. It was so good to have him home.
You watched from the doorway as Jonathan dropped heavily onto the couch, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling as he sat. His jacket was already thrown over the back of a chair, and he rolled up his shirtsleeves, not watching what he was doing.
“I know that I haven't been home much,” he continued. His voice seemed to fill the room, making the small space feel even more intimate. “Work has been eating me alive.”
“I hope not literally,” you joked.
Though you could never be sure. Some of the patients he worked with at Arkham were… unique, to say the least.
“Not yet.”
He lifted his head to look over at you, briefly, before reclining again and throwing an arm over his face. Even with his eyes shielded, you could still feel the lingering, icy cold rush of his gaze. You walked over and knelt at his feet, helping him to remove his shoes.
As you tugged at the laces, you felt a surge of devotion wash over you. Jonathan always worked hard. Even though, yes, he wasn't around much during the week, he made sure to provide for you. In fact, you were sure that was all part of the reason why he so often worked late. 
Once his shoes were off, you let your soft fingers drift up his leg, brushing against the fabric of his trousers.
“Did you have dinner? Do you want something to eat?”
“Maybe later,” Jonathan replied, as he took hold of your wrist.
Gently, he pulled you until you were standing up, and then until you were straddling him, your knees pressed into his sides.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” you asked, settling into his lap.
As you spoke, your hands came up to rest on his shoulders. Kneading into his tension, you could feel as his arms relaxed under your touch. 
“I just want to spend time with you.”
His fingers trailed over your thigh, and you knew instantly what he meant.
“Oh, so that's why you're home early,” you teased.
You leaned in to kiss him again, this time slipping a finger to hook under the knot of his tie, pulling him closer to you. His tongue brushed against yours, and it sent an electric jolt down your spine.
“Aren't I allowed to miss you?” he teased back.
You felt your cheeks heat up. Both of you knew very well that Jonathan was always the one in charge in the bedroom, and hearing him talk as if you were the one who imposed rules on him made you feel flustered.
“You have no idea,” he continued, “how hard it is to work late, when all I can think about is how you’re here all alone. Waiting up for me. You've been good though, right? Haven't been touching yourself without me?”
The heat on your cheeks deepened, traveling all the way down to your core. 
“O-of course not,” you replied, cursing the way your voice caught in your throat. It was just like him to somehow have you wrapped fully around his finger less than five seconds in. “You know I wouldn't.”
Jonathan hummed, and pushed your hips up and off of his lap as he brought a hand down to brush softly over your clit. You jumped, even feeling him through all your clothing, and your knuckles stretched tightly over his shoulders. 
“Seems like you're telling the truth…”
And you were. You melted into his touch as Jonathan swirled his fingers against you, pressing them roughly. After going without for so long, every nerve felt as if it was on fire in between your legs.
“Ohh…”
Your soft sigh earned you more pressure from Jonathan; his fingers nearly digging into your clothed cunt. You rocked your hips, desperately throwing your head back as you held onto his shoulders for support.
“Stop,” he ordered.
“Mmmmmph.”
Your petulant whine filled the room, and your frustration only grew as Jonathan took his hand away. His command had been gentle, but you were so needy that it felt like torture.
Swiftly, Jonathan stood up and took you with him. Still holding onto your hips for support, he made sure your feet were on the ground before stepping forward. He backed you up with him, until your shoulder blades hit the far wall.
“I really have been away for too long, haven't I?” he breathed, filling your mouth with the taste of anticipation.
“It's okay… I know you're busy at work.”
“You're too nice,” Jonathan sighed. “I want to hear just how badly you’ve missed me.”
Almost instantly, he got what he wanted as you cried out, shocked by the way his leg pushed eagerly between yours. He pressed harder, still looming over you.
“That's better.”
“Jonathan-”
“Want me to tie you up like I did last time?” he interrupted. “Or do you want to try something new?”
It was impossible to miss the hint of excitement in his deep voice. You moaned as he dragged your hips down even harder, pressing your bodies together with an intensity that was almost too much.
“I- was thinking it might be nice to try something a bit different,” you answered, your voice slightly fragmented as he unbuttoned your pants.
“Mmm. You have any ideas?”
You took a deep breath. What you had in mind probably wasn't the same as whatever twisted idea was running through Jonathan’s head. It wasn't that you didn't like experimenting. It was just… you didn't like doing it all the time. 
“I was thinking… what if we just took things slow?” you ventured.
“What? Like you want me to edge you?”
“No, not… exactly like that.”
It was getting harder to articulate, as Jonathan’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting as he moved up toward your jaw.
“Like what, then?” he whispered wickedly, right in your ear.
“Like… what if we were just kinda… gentle?”
Jonathan pulled back to look at you, the slight hint of a frown on his lips.
“But you like when I'm rough with you.”
“I do!” you rushed to agree. “It’s just that… sometimes I want you to be slow and sensual.”
Your arms inched up to hook round his neck, and you pulled him in for a soft kiss, trying to show him what you wanted. Jonathan was stiff at first, but eventually he melted into the slow movement of your lips.
When the kiss broke, Jonathan took a step back, removing his thigh from between your legs. He pushed his hands under your waistband and started to, very slowly, shove the fabric down over your hips.
“We can try that,” he relented. Then added with a mischievous wink, “But if you get bored… just let me know.”
You hummed as his hands slid over your curves, dragging your pants down with them. Jonathan never did anything halfheartedly, and if you wanted it slow, then that was exactly how he would give it to you. Even if it did drive you crazy in the process.
Your slacks fell, pooling below you on the hard floor. Jonathan paused for a moment, before planting a kiss on the exposed skin below where your blouse had started to fall away. He pushed back your collar, to kiss more and then send a shiver right after, as he breathed over the wetness that had been left behind by his mouth.
He stood up straight, pressing an airy kiss to your forehead as his fingers trailed over the lace of your panties.
“Am I doing it how you want me to, darling?” he asked.
You felt yourself swoon again. You weren't used to him following your lead quite like this, but you liked it. A lot.
As was clearly evidenced by the wet spot that had started to seep through the fabric that Jonathan was toying with. He found the trace of your arousal easily enough, and pressed two of his fingers into the damp cotton.
“Nevermind. I have my answer.”
Slipping your already-ruined panties to the side, Jonathan brushed his fingers over your core before bringing them up to your clit. Swirling with just the right kind of pressure, he dragged a soft moan from your lips.
“Oh my god,” you sighed. “Keep going.”
He kissed you, slowly but sinfully, swallowing all of your breathy sighs and words of admiration as they slipped out. It was impossible to contain them, especially when you started to feel his own arousal as it pressed up against your hip, seeming to grow more impatient the harder he got.
“Jonathan- so close,” you whined, breathless already.
“You sure you don't want me to edge you?” he asked, maybe a little hopefully.
“No - please, let me come.”
The pressure was already building. Soon, neither of you would have any choice in the matter. You just had to get him to keep going, long enough for you to push past the point of no return.
“Well, if you're asking so nicely…”
Another searing kiss sealed your fate, and you scrambled to hang onto Jonathan as you felt yourself start to crumble.
He held you, still pressed firm against the wall, and you heard a deep chuckle resound from his throat.
“Good to know even this kind of stuff makes you a mess,” Jonathan droned. “Or maybe you're just so used to me doing everything I want to you, that this actually counts as variety now.”
You were barely listening to him; still too distracted by the delightfully sore feeling that seemed to permeate your whole body.
What you did notice was him slipping your panties the rest of the way off, letting them fall at your feet before gently guiding you to step out of them. With that done, he turned his attention to your blouse, delicately removing it and then tossing it to the side.
Your hands came up clumsily to paw at the buttons on his shirt, trying in vain to release them. Jonathan saw you were struggling, and gave you a small, knowing smile.
“Let me help, darling. It seems like you're having some trouble.”
You moved your hands to let Jonathan take over. He loosened his tie easily, and popped three of his buttons. But, quickly, he lost interest, and instead moved to unzip his pants.
When he finally sprang free, his cock hit your still-throbbing clit.
“Ah!” you hissed.
“Still sensitive?” Jonathan asked, rubbing himself leisurely against you.
Your only response was a whimper, but that was answer enough. Jonathan’s lips curled into a wicked smile, as he hovered close to your ear.
“Hold still,” he teased, reaching down to line himself up.
You squirmed, fighting within yourself as half of you wanted to scream at the sensation while the rest of you, conversely, needed to grind down harder. Every contact made you jump, and as he pressed in, you saw stars.
“Jonathan…”
You had expected him to start moving, but instead he held off. Staying right where he was, Jonathan paused so that you could feel just how completely he filled you. 
“Everything okay?” he asked, sickly sweet voice dripping into your ears.
“Fuck,” you replied.
He laughed.
“You’ve lost quite a bit of your usual eloquence.” He started to drag himself out. “But okay. Since you asked nicely again…”
As he pressed back in, slow but rough, you couldn’t help letting out an undignified sound. Jonathan smirked.
When he did it again, your whole body shifted, pressed up by the force of his thrust. Your head rolled back, hitting the wall lightly before lolling off to the side. 
“You’re so pretty,” he sighed.
As he spoke, he reached down to hook one of your legs up and over his waist. The new angle caused you to let out another choked whine, which earned you an even harder thrust.
“Maybe we should do this more often. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you like this.”
You could only imagine how you must have looked. Mouth hanging open and eyes half-shut, rolling back into your head from the pleasure as your chest heaved and your knees gave out. Jonathan smoothed a thumb over the edge of your jaw.
“Even though I can’t stop thinking about all of the other things I’d like to do to you,” he added, punctuating the sentiment with his hips. You swore you felt him shudder.
Kissing your suddenly-warm neck, Jonathan thrust into you again. Your hips snapped back weakly to meet him, and you heard yourself start to moan. You held onto him tighter, dragging your nails down his arms.
“I thought you wanted to be gentle?” he teased.
He hadn't been going very fast, but now he slowed down entirely. For a moment, the two of you stood, face to face, your breath and his in a sweltering mix, pooling out in the scant space between you.
Jonathan’s forehead came to rest against yours, and you looked up into the blur of his eyes. Two hazy pools of blue ice that were filling your vision completely.
“Want me to speed up?”
“No, this is nice,” you replied. A bit dreamily as your senses took time to adjust. Your skin prickled at his touch as he brushed a hand lazily up your arm.
“I can be slow then,” he laughed. “But it might be too hard if you keep looking at me like that.”
“How should I look at you, hm?” you teased.
“Like you’re pretending you don't want to be turned around with your wrists pinned up against the wall,” he teased back.
He pressed into you, exploring how deep he could go before you started writhing against him. Your leg on his waist tightened, pulling him in and holding him firmly in place for a kiss. 
You knew he might take some convincing, but you were prepared to take all night to show Jonathan just how good things could be, after practicing a little patience.
645 notes · View notes
singmyaubade · 11 months
Text
No Longer Yours
James Potter x Female!Reader
IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)
A/N: First, I apologize for my time writing this; it just had to be perfect! I am so grateful that you all love my story enough to give it so much love and support and practically beg for a part 3; thank you so much. I had no idea how to start and continue this, so please be kind. I really hope you guys enjoy this part, and I hope it's everything you dreamed of <3
Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?
Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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"Shh.. don't wake her up!" You heard Lily whisper in your half-asleep state as the sun peeked at you through the blinds.
"It's Marlene's big oger feet," Mary snorted.
"Hey! My feet are not the size of oger feet," Marlene replied, sticking out her tongue.
"Shh!" Lily warned.
You heard the shuffling of paper and steps as you opened your eyes to see your best friends hanging up decorations, a smile appearing on your face immediately.
"Oh, bollocks," Lily sighed, face-palming, "Happy birthday!" She yelled, half annoyed but half happy there was a smile on your face. She embraced you as you sat upright in bed, glad to see your friend's dedication to your birthday.
The rest of them told you a happy birthday, embracing you in a tight hug.
"Wow, I can't believe you actually got Marlene up this early," You said, opening another card they gave you.
"Well, it took a chicken drumstick," Dorcas replied.
"Otherwise, I would've been grouchy, and Y/n would have had a horrible birthday, so really I did it for her," Marlene said as Mary rolled her eyes.
"I wonder what the Marauders have planned, especially James," Lily muttered.
Every year for your birthday, James would give you a grand birthday party and tons of presents. He usually would sneak into your dorm room and surprise you with cannons and the other Marauders, but of course, this year was different.
And coincidentally, your birthday was the same day as the start of winter break, which always meant you had to pack on your birthday.
And every birthday, you had to go over to James's house for your birthday dinner with your families.
Which you were not looking forward to this year.
"Oh shit, sorry, Y/n, I know you don't want to speak about him," Lily apologized.
"It's alright; I'm sure I'll be reminded of him today many times," You replied, getting out of bed, "I can't believe I don't get to spend my birthday at Hogwarts," You said, grabbing clothes from your closet, setting them next to the trunk.
"It does suck, but you can at least be excited about your birthday dinner," Lily replied, closing her trunk.
"Hopefully, it goes well without James hinting to our parents that I hate him and don't want anything to do with him," You angrily said, shoving your clothes in your trunk.
"Do you really hate him, though?" Mary asked, "I mean, you were best friends with him all these years, and now, you utterly hate him,"
"That was before I realized he was cruel and truly considered me anything but something that he couldn't get rid of," You said, "But enough about James, are we still meeting together after Christmas?"
"Of course, your house, Y/n?" Dorcas asked.
You nodded, "But we can't steal my parent's booze again; I'm pretty sure the elves are scared of Marlene,"
"I didn't mean to scare them with my clown impression; it was just too good," Marlene smirked.
"Yeah yeah, for sure," You said, laughing before packing the rest of your clothes.
Suddenly, your parent's owl flew in from the window, delivering you a letter. You opened the envelope and straightened the folded-up letter, which stated:
Dear beloved Y/n,
Your father and I are experiencing a torturous delay from France; we have fought with the conductor multiple times and even considered apparating or the floo. Unfortunately, because of the horrible mangling rabbit, I TOLD your father not to eat, he has been throwing up all evening, and we can't apparate, and the nearest floo is eight hours away. You will stay with the Potters tonight and tomorrow night because too many wards might injure you in the house that the elves can't disable, but we hope to return before then. We want you to have the most incredible birthday and love you so much; we are incredibly sorry to miss it. Please forgive us.
Sincerely,
Your proud parents.
"What does the letter say?" Lily asked, glancing at you the folding her socks.
"My parents are stuck in a delay and can't make it to my birthday dinner in time, or even tomorrow," You shrugged.
"I am so sorry, Y/n," Lily said, embracing you.
You hugged her back. "It's okay; at least I have the Potters.
"Are you sure you will be okay?" Dorcas asked.
"Yeah, you can stay with me if you want," Mary offered.
"No, it's fine." You sighed, "They will be hurt if I skipped the opportunity to continue the tradition, and my mom would wring my head off if I didn't go," You joked.
"Okay, well, let us know," Lily smiled.
The whole part of you was sincerely upset; you didn't want your parents to not be there for your birthday. Even worse, you weren't on good terms with James, which only made for an awkward dinner with his family.
But you understood and knew your parents would make it up to you, and you know how guilty they felt; you just missed them.
You chose to keep your mind off it and keep packing until it was time to go to the train.
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"When does this bloody train come?" Marlene shivered, "I'm fucking freezing,"
"I told you to bring your jumper," Mary sighed.
"I didn't think I really needed it," Marlene replied, gritting her teeth.
"I knew you would be cold," You said, giving her one of your extra jumpers.
"You know, Y/n, I'll kick Potter's bloody ass for you; just remember that," Marlene suggested, causing you to laugh.
"Speaking of the devil," Dorcas muttered under her breath.
You turned around to see James looking straight into your eyes. You had to admit that James had never been so intimidating. His eyes looked as if they had darkened, and he looked as if you were his Slytherin competitor in Quidditch.
"Are you ready?" He asked, his voice sounding deeper.
He didn't even say Happy Birthday.
"I'm gonna sit with them," You blankly stated, not an ounce of kindness in your voice.
"It's better if we sit together," James demanded, "Otherwise, we won't be able to find each other in the crowd when the train stops," He explained to you slowly as if you were a child, which only pissed you off.
"Are you fucking mishearing me, or are you just delusional?" You asked, "I said I'm gonna sit with my friends and not assholes. I don't even consider an acquaintance." You sneered, your voice sounding so harsh that it shocked your friends, "Please do me a favor and leave me the fuck alone."
"Are you really gonna be an uptight bitch?" James asked, a cocky smile on his face, "I mean, Jesus, I like it better when your mouth is shut or perhaps filled." Some of you knew that James was just being an asshole because he was hurt, which is what he always did, even when he was a kid, but the only thing about it was that he only did it to you.
That only angered you more before you slapped him for his rude comment, "Don't you fucking dare speak to me like that."
"Or what?" He stepped closer
"Okay, guys!" Lily stepped in, "We will approach you five minutes before the train stops, and you guys will walk together in peace, hopefully," Lily dragged you away as you glared at James.
"I can't believe you actually slapped him," Marlene said, following after you guys, "I mean, after what he said, I would've punched him so hard in the di-"
Mary cut her off, "Jokes aside, are you okay, Y/n? I mean, I have never seen James so mean and awful towards you or anyone for that matter,"
You sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine, I just don't get why he is so mean to me when he was the one who broke my trust in the first place,"
"What did he do?" Marlene asked.
The rest of the group looked at Marlene as if she had killed a unicorn. Nobody had really asked what James had done but considering your resentment towards him, it must’ve been unforgiving.
You hesitated, “He just didn’t say some nice things about me.” You answered, hoping to move on.
“Like what kind of things?” Marlene pried.
You could tell she was just curious, but you were so humiliated by what James had said that you didn’t even want to tell your closest friends.
Dorcas elbowed Marlene, causing her to hiss in pain before she said, “It isn’t our business if you don’t want to tell us, Y/n.”
“Yeah,” Lily agreed, “Maybe it’s better it is between you and James.”
The rest of the group agreed including Marlene who was hunched over in pain and verbally cursing Dorcas for the hard elbow.
You muttered a “thanks” before heading onto the train. You sat by the window, staring outside to the foggy mountains.
You didn’t want to admit it but you did miss James and how much he cared for your birthday. Sometimes it seemed like it was his birthday with how high he held your birthday.
You didn’t understand why he couldn’t just try to even figure out what he had done or fight for your forgiveness, he just chose to be angry at you.
You didn't even want to think about him. Why does your whole life revolve around him?
"Anything from the trolley dearies?" The Trolley Witch asked.
"Chocolate frogs," Marlene said.
"Jumbling Jellies," Lily answered.
"I'll take Fizzing Wheezies," You said, paying her 10 galleons for you all.
"Y/n, you don't ha-" Lily was about to say before Marlene shushed her.
Lily glared as Marlene spoke, "Bless your heart, Y/n," She smiled as you laughed.
As Marlene started devouring her chocolate frog, you couldn't help but remember how you and James would share Fizzing Wheezies every time on your birthday on the train.
Practically tradition.
You wondered if he thought the same. If he was relishing in the memories.
Your thinking was halted when Dorcas set a hand on your thigh as you smiled, laying your head on her shoulder. You closed your eyes, trying to prepare for the day ahead.
--
"Y/n," Someone lightly shook you by your shoulder as you looked to see Lily. She was waking all of the girls up as the train stopped.
You yawned, getting up to grab your luggage. James was right that there would be traffic, so you had to rush off, saying your goodbyes to your best friends.
"Promise to write?" Lily asked, looking near tears.
"Lils, it's only a week," You snorted as she gave you a stern look.
"A week I won't get to see you," She hugged you tighter as you smiled and returned it.
"See you before Christmas?" She asked.
You rubbed her shoulder, "See you before Christmas."
"Promise me you won't forgive Potter," Marlene sighed, causing you to laugh.
"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Mary asked next to Marlene.
"Do you have no faith in her at all?" Marlene mocked, causing Mary to glare.
"Okay, okay!" You laughed at the both of them, "Only if you promise you both will stop bickering," You hugged them both.
They glared at each other as Dorcas spoke, "Forgetting someone?"
You grinned, "Never," You hugged her, kissing her on the cheek.
You were waiting for her to say, "Give him hell?" You asked as she laughed.
"I think you know what to do," She encouraged before you exited, waving goodbye to all of them.
Even though it was only a week, you still hated being away from your best friends. They were like your third family besides your actual and the Potters.
You saw the back of Sirius's head as you approached him, considering he lived with the Potters.
He turned around before you could tap him, picking you up, "Happy birthday Y/n!" He said, kissing your cheek as you yelped.
"Okay, thank you, Sirius, put me down!" You giggled.
He put you down as you smoothed your clothing, "So where's Potter?' You asked.
He smirked, "Only last name? Ice cold Y/n." You didn't respond, so he assumed you were waiting for an answer, "He went to the toilets,"
You hummed, silently tapping your foot on the pavement, only hearing the ruckus around you both.
"Excited for your birthday dinner?" He asked, partly ready for the drama.
"Very," You sarcastically said.
"Hey, Mom and Dad aren't too bad," He said.
"We both know Euphemia and Fleamont aren't the Potters I despise," You muttered.
"Well, for your sake, I'll make him behave," He sent a charming smile your way.
"What would I do without you, Black?" You rolled your eyes.
"Probably be miserable," He answered, causing you to laugh.
"What are we laughing about?" James said, not even a smidge of excitement in his tone.
Your usual mad facade slipped back in as you grabbed your luggage and started heading toward the car. You could hear Sirius laughing behind you.
You saw Euphemia and Fleamont waiting by the car like they had usually done since Sixth year since James told them to stop coming inside because of his newfound "popularity."
Your face lit up immediately, excited to see two of your favorite people worldwide.
You embraced Euphemia, giving the tightest hug you could and giving Fleamont a kiss on the cheek while they asked about your studies. You could see James rolling his eyes both audibly and physically.
"Okay, Mother, I don't think Y/n likes all the questions," James said, leaning his head on the window while his father drove.
Sirius was in between the two of you, snoring asleep. Considering the train ride, you didn't even know why he was tired.
"I don't mind at all," You said, smiling as James glared at you.
You knew that Euphemia could feel the tension between you and James, but she ignored it, "So Y/n, I have made you something extraordinary." Euphemia said.
"And that is?" You asked, knowing she wouldn't tell you.
"I guess you will have to find out tonight during dinner." She sweetly said, winking at you.
You smiled to yourself, relieved your birthday wouldn't be that bad.
--
You entered the house that you had been over to so many times, admiring it fully.
"James will show you your room," Euphemia said, rubbing your back as you smiled, trying not to show your discomfort about James.
James didn't even wait for you before heading up the steps. Thankfully, he carried your luggage because he knew Euphemia would berate him.
"It's in there," He lazily said, not even opening the door before walking downstairs.
Jerk.
You grunted, lifting your heavy suitcase inside the room.
You admired the room, which looked like it was made for you. It was warm and tremendous for a guest room. It had all of your favorite colors and smells.
It was perfect.
You decided to nap before dinner, considering you had no one to talk to, and you were partly tired after the drive anyway. You knew an elf would get you when it was time.
--
"Ms." A frail voice said as your eyes fluttered open to see Dot, the Potter's elf that had been there since you had first moved in.
"Oh, hello, Dot," You spoke lightly, yawning.
"Ms. Potter tells Dot to inform you it's time for dinner," Her small voice said.
"Thank you, Dot, I appreciate it," You thanked before the elf nodded her head and apparated out.
You stretched, wearing a semi-formal dress, one of your favorites.
You headed down the stairs as you smelt the food radiating from the dining room. It was all of your favorites; it was pretty extraordinary. Ms. Potter was always the type to blow you off of your feet, regardless.
Your face lit up, "This is stunning, Ms. Potter," You looked at the glowing lights.
Euphemia smiled, "I'm glad you love it,"
You sat next to James with Sirius next to him. His face had certainly softened, but he was clenching his jaw when you sat beside him.
"Now," Euphemia started, "I know we usually do gifts after dinner, but we all had such beautiful surprises for you that we couldn't wait."
Euphemia started first, giving you one of your favorite movies since you were a kid, except the movie wasn't available anywhere.
You rose excitedly, embracing her, "How did you get this?" You asked, smiling at the CDs.
"A friend of mine is good friends with the director, and he happened to have one last copy," She answered as you excitingly hugged her before returning to your seat.
"Thank you, Ms. Potter," You looked at Euphemia, "I love it,"
She nodded before Fleamont gave you his gift. It was a beautiful crystal from Bejing.
You thanked him for the beautiful gem before Sirius offered you his gift. He gave you a perfume that smelled of fire whisky but wasn't actually fire whisky.
Part of you wanted to know how he did it, but you decided to save it for later as you thanked him, kissing him on the cheek as he cheered.
Last was James, who picked up the gift from under the table. He had looked you in the eyes, not a set of resentment in them at all.
Your breath hitched as he gave you a stuffed animal your grandfather gave you when you were nine. You had cried for a week because you had lost it and teared up when anyone mentioned it.
He gave it to you as it looked brand new and was cleaner than when you had it when you were nine.
When you pressed on the heart, it always said "I love you" in your grandfather's voice and even had your name on the collar.
You teared up, "How did you find it?"
He stuttered, "I-I found it in the treehouse in the corner,"
"I thought the treehouse was infested with Clockonuts," You said.
He laughed, "Well, I risked my life to get it back,"
Every sense of anger you had felt had disappeared; he had done something that was so out of his actions lately that it made you miss him.
"Thank you," You genuinely said.
He gave you a simple nod before you began eating. Conversations started after, talking about school.
"So, any boys, Y/n?" Euphemia asked as James dropped his fork on his plate, making a huge sound that caused you to look at him.
You cleared your throat, "Well, I am trying not to focus on that right now,"
"Except for Carrows," James muttered.
"Who's Carrows?" Euphemia asked, genuinely curious.
You took a bite of your carrot, "Um, well," You swallowed, "He's just a friend I have."
"I don't sit on my friend's laps," James scoffed, causing you to glare at him.
"Well, I don't call my friends sluts," You spat.
"James Fleamont Potter, what did you call her?" Euphemia added.
James ignored her, "Well, when your best friend is acting like one just because you don't fancy her, I think she deserves it,"
Mate-" Sirius chimed in, but you were faster.
"When have I ever fancied you?" You asked, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of that knowledge.
"Y/n, you were practically obsessed with me," He ridiculed, "I couldn't get away from you, and the only time I could was when I dated Lily; it was the best months of my life," His face looked shocked after he said the last words.
You couldn't tell if he meant it, but it hurt you badly. All those years of friendship were fake; he couldn't tolerate you.
"That's enough!" Euphemia said; even Sirius was silent.
A tear ran down your cheek, "I'm actually not feeling well; I'm gonna go to bed." You said, placing your napkin on the plate in front of you.
You heard Euphemia berating James as you ran up to your room. In some ways, you didn't understand why James did everything he did if he hated you so much.
Why did he give you that gift? Why did he always call you and get mad when you didn't want to be his friend? Did you ever mean anything to James Potter?
And if you did, why did he have to ruin your birthday?
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A/N: If you hated this, I apologize.
taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26 @prongsprincessworld@coolerthananicecubeeee @taintedxkisses
3K notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 4 months
Text
STORY | knj
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pairing: soft dom!namjoon x reader
genre: smut
word count: 7.8k
summary: yours and namjoon’s story is a bit more perverted than traditional.
warnings: serious big dick namjoon, rough touches, hair pulling, use of pet names and titles, dom/sub dynamics, horny namjoon can't help but palm himself:(, desperation, masturbation, spanking, praising, tit slapping, nipple play, teasing, oc and namjoon not being comfortable with certain practices, playful orgasm denial, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming && ass play :3, cum eating yum yum, tit fucking, orgasm countdown fuck
note: smut is so fucking difficult to write but i loved every second of it. i love writing about namjoon, he just makes me feel so safe. this is purely my fantasy with him and i'll probably dream about this for a long, long time. please, take your time reading this as it's pretty long. i hope you enjoy it and that it makes you dream like it made me dream. as always, let me know what you think in the comments, like the post and if you want to—reblog, but i won't pressure you angels <3. love you guys so much, thank you for all the love. kisses!
side note: i miss namjoon and i wish he were here. all i can do is watch his lives and pretend he never left for the military.
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Namjoon makes himself comfortable on the wooden chair before you.
The scene is set. Like a mermaid bathing in the sun, you rest your elbows on the cold rim of the ivory bathtub. Small surges of violet-tinted water, perfumed with your scent, blanket your body in a thin layer of glittery sheen. They kiss the tiger stripes along the curve of your bottom as it rolls over, passing by the dip in the small of your waist, breathing in your patchouli fragrance in greeting. The bath bomb, cornered by your knees, sizzles and spins, the width of the tub allowing your form to float like a little fish in the open sea as copiously as you please.
A gift from your loving boyfriend. Both the clawfoot, and the bath bomb.
The scene expands. Your Eric slouches in his seat, balancing his greatest and most stellar possession on top of his lap with one hand while he runs the other through his silver mane. He fits perfectly in the picturesqueness of the background. Soft orange and chocolate tiles zig zag behind his back, transposing him momentarily into a sunlit illustration, where he rests in the shade of a palm tree on a faraway beach. Reads the book to pass the time as he waits for you to emerge from the waters. Sets it down on his lap as soon as his gaze catches yours. Periwinkle clams for a bra, panties thin and translucent from the oncoming waves, you rest your front on the sand. He smiles down at you and you know for a fact you won’t be able to get on your feet. Might have to learn how to walk, too.
You keep this picture in your heart. Mentally, you rip out the page. Fold it and tuck it somewhere within you to keep it safe.
Legs outstretched by the sides of the tub, clad in slacks in the muted color of a persimmon, it’s almost as though you’re propped on his lap. Sporting a simple white button-down, sleeves rolled, you’re close enough to touch the material if you so much as wished so. From his angle, Namjoon sees nothing but the roundness of your eyes through the brownish rims of his glasses, hair unkempt in their dampness as the short paper thin layers frame your flushed face in such a celestial way. If he were to lean over, it’d be a different kind of book.
The one in the clasp of his hand isn’t a tale as old as time.
It’s one of your favorites. An existential story that ridicules the traditional. A transfusion of liveness to a certain forgotten room of your heart. The unlit one while the others brim with sunlight, with the golden sepia projection of the contents of the fairytales you love so much made into stop motion. A coloring book of some sort, hues fitting into the lines by your helping hand—the attention of your eyes. 
Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. The book that sweeps away all those cobwebs in that chamber. Makes it less lonely.
It’s all you had talked about on your dates when you and Namjoon first started dating, having been reading it at the time. You had confided in him that the writer was the only person who understood you without ever learning your name, without familiarizing himself with the subtleties of your calamitous life.
No one has ever shared something so vulnerable with him, especially not on the first date. Not that he’d gone on many, but the few that fell into his grasp were hell to get through. Insufferable, to say the least. Absolutely superficial.
He went home in the rain thinking of you. Not for boyish reasons. But for reasons of literary character, of melancholy nature that squeezed his long-unexpressed heart in perpetuating intervals too consistent for his liking. Filled it with a nectar bubbling with a newly blooming love for books, with a sudden longing to be found within the words. His body decided for him that it was yours. Yours to teach again how to read between the lines.
The scene breaks out of the margins on the page.
“Is the water warm enough?”
The idea constructed by his own geniality, it’s by his will that you’re basking in your bare femininity before his eyes. Idleness lingered in the living room between the pair of you, the flimsy curtain by your balcony lifting and falling in a little dance as the cold air perfused the place with the drowsiness of winter. Pulling his eyes away from the TV to sink a soft kiss into your hair, Namjoon muttered into your ear: “How about I draw you a bath and read to you for a little bit?”
You said nothing. The click of your phone turning off and your hasty movements to untangle yourself from the warmth of his limbs answered him for you. Leaving your clothes as a trail for him to follow, you gave him a glimpse of your ass, arched and pointed in the draft before you ran away. Before he scolded you with his index finger like a father, raising to his feet to close the balcony door.
In two seconds he joined you in the bathroom. Leaned against the doorframe as you circled a pink roll-on lip oil you’ve been obsessed with lately around the perimeters of your lips. The one that makes them look bigger, juicier. That makes them more fun to kiss and toy with. The one that leaves his length sticky once playtime is over. You seem to cast aside little trinkets of yourself for him to collect everywhere you go.
Tits pushed towards each other while you slightly bent over the vanity sink, tapping the excess into the fullness of your mouth, Namjoon palmed himself. The tiredness from work earlier weakened his self-control to the point of unrestrained indulgence. And the plumpness of your ass just encouraged it.
You fluffed your hair and Namjoon ran the bath. Disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the purple bath bomb from the plastic bag on the counter, one that he got from the convenience store for you. Dragon fruit and hibiscus. Thought of the twinkle that would sparkle beneath your lashes upon seeing it. Wasn’t disappointed when you exceeded his expectations.
Having seen it in the mirror, almost microscopic and round in his big palm, you turned on your heel and burst into giddiness as he took off the plastic packaging with his teeth. You pouted in gratefulness when he showed it to you. 
“You planned this, didn’t you?”
You hugged him, locking your hands behind the nape of his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and he told you so. A bit hoarsely, though.
Namjoon struggled not to moan. Groaned a little when he felt the curvature of your belly against his hardness and the pointed nubs of your tits beneath his pecs. Managed to conceal it, thankfully, by clearing his throat and by allowing an authentic grin to bloom on his dimpled face at your joy. Thanked the heavens for all the bath bombs in the world.
He placed it in your much smaller palm for you to plop it into the increasing water. Watched your eyes widen at the gilded glitter spreading around. Spurred you to get in. Held your hand as you lifted one limb, then the other. Knelt by you as you engulfed yourself in the violet tinge, your hair swirling around you, silky and ethereal, coming to a stop at the top of your head to fix a splendid crown for such a princess like yourself.
Namjoon turned off the tap while you rested your back against the curved wall of the tub. You swooshed your hands around, gathering the glitter into the fine lines of your palms. Looked up at him in elation, the twinkle doing its thing in the glossiness of your eyes, and smiled. Namjoon smiled back at you. His hand reached out to your chest in a fervent need to touch you. The glitter adorned your chest with its perfect speckles and they resurfaced when you arched your back in response. Clung to his palm in the middle of your tits, held on tighter as he took a detour to your chin by brushing across your sensitive nipple to hear your little mewls because if he made a sound, then you must, too. Because if he was horny, he must get you on the same page as well. Fairness is very important to Namjoon.
He squeezed your breast hard. Pinched your nipple between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in broken intervals, similar to little dashed lines of Morse code. You imagined he was telling you something through that secret language as you closed your eyes during an intense wave of pleasure coursing down your body, and perhaps he truly did because he pulled your legs apart harshly when you pressed them together. Punished you by lightly slapping your tit—the same one he abused with those firm touches—the force splashing you in the face with violet pearls. All as if you disobeyed the command he transmitted wordlessly.
The command possibly being: Only I will give you the release you need when I decide it’s time.
You bit your bottom lip to suppress the neediness erupting in you. Namjoon wrapped his hand around your throat and you dragged his rolled sleeve further up his arm, so it wouldn’t have gotten soaked in the water. He smeared your lip oil just because he wanted—just because he could, scattering the rosy tint around your mouth messily. He took advantage of the aftermath of his punishment and collected those tender beads, now translucent upon your carmine skin. Not with the thumb as you expected him to, but using the pillows of his lips, he kissed the round bulb on your cheek. It melted on the puffy surface when he withdrew. He looked you in the eye for a mere beat of time before he lowered to your other cheek to collect another trinket. None of the corners of your mouth were overlooked, not even the button of your nose. He peppered those kisses to erase the harshness of his selfishness, supporting your lifted chin with his long thumb beneath it, still sticky from the consistency of the lip oil, apologizing, smoothing down his sternness until you giggled.
Once he cleaned you, Namjoon returned the digit to your smudged mouth, delicious in his sight due to the essence of sloppiness that gets his length even harder in his pants. He presses the pad against it, already craving your tongue. You kissed it, a thank you for his softness, before you granted him the access. Tongue toying with the tip, you said hello in the mother language of the love stored in your bodies for each other. Wrapped both of your hands around his wrist. Didn’t break eye contact. Smiled, teeth showing happily, when he bit his lip, but soon got distracted by a small movement on his groin area out of your view.
You peeled your back off of the tub to curiously take a peek, but Namjoon pushed you back to your place. All while his thumb remained sucked by your mouth. You frowned at him, dismayed by his recurring roughness that you weren’t used to.
Namjoon tapped your cheek twice with his fingers to let you know it was enough and rose to his feet.
“Joon, what’s going on? Why are you so rough with me?” you asked, voice tender, the question shooting arrows into the wideness of his back.
Stopping in the doorway, he hung his head, fingers coming to intertwine with the short hair above his neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Let me get the book.”
A moment later, he returned with the stellar possession in one hand and a wooden chair in the other. He slumped against it, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.
You swam forward as if to the shore, propping your elbows on the rim to be closer to him.
“Is the water warm enough?”
You nod, your teeth picking at the excess skin on your lips. Namjoon notices and, as if registering the reason why you put on the lip oil in the first place, he leans towards you and rubs away the smudginess he caused. As if the walk into your dining room sobered him enough from the dark wine of his lust that he now regretted his actions.
“You really scared me when you were rough,” you said calmly, unafraid to uncover your feelings, knowing you’ll be caught now that you’ve jumped head-first into the hungry sea of honesty.
He apologizes again. Repeats it in the aphonic form of a deep chaste kiss.
“Won’t do it again,” he promises. “Unless you ask me to.”
Your lips form a smile, but it quivers into a straight line just as quickly as it appeared. The yet unknown cause behind his untypical behavior troubles you.
“Did something happen today at work?”
Namjoon sighs. “No, I’m just tired.”
“Just tired or tired of your job?” you try, tilting your head to the side, remembering this isn’t the first time quiet broodiness clutched his figure when the clock struck five.
“Both.” He kneads the heel of his palm against his eye. 
Not expecting his honesty, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It propels you to investigate further. Gives you the green light. Namjoon usually keeps to himself when it comes to work-related storms, holding respect that reaches the bottom of his heart for those above him and for his peers as well.
“Did someone make you upset?” you ask, paving your way in this inquiry to the realm of understanding so you can help him. At least in a small way.
He drops his hand, gazes up the ceiling to stare at a fixed point. Perhaps he’s looking for words, perhaps he’s avoiding the question altogether. The regret of your prying swallows you. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped a boundary. 
You reach out your arm, wrapping wet fingers around his wrist on his lap. The gesture says, ‘you don’t have to tell me but I’m here,’ and you squeeze the limb to emphasize that. As if he heard you, he looks down at you. His eyes that are usually narrowed into slits now round in tenderness. The swallowing lets go, the lump that threatened to obstruct your throat disappears.
“It’s Friday, Joonie, and you can forget about your job for a little while. It’ll get better,” you say, caressing his soft skin.
To your another surprise, Namjoon nods. Slips his fingers into the hollowness between yours, squeezing back, saying, ‘I hear you.’ Your heart jumps with gladness that you haven’t made a mistake, that instead your reassurement made a difference.
To lighten up the atmosphere, you begin to joke around.
“Should I beat them up?” You raise your brow in mischief, a goofy smile coating your face in lightheartedness.
A grin cracks on his face. “Don’t get your hands dirty for me, baby.”
You scoff, half-seriously and half-unseriously shaking your head at his eagerness to please but never letting himself be pleased. “But I want to. I’ll do it for you.”
Namjoon shakes his head as well. Leans over to you. Cradles your head in his hands and kisses you. Picks the hair plastered on your face and puts it away. You forget all of your jokes for a moment, breathless. Your neediness nudges you in your sensitive parts, reminding you of its lingering presence. 
“Come on, Joonie,” you coo, prolonging the vowels, the best you could come up with considering his allure, “I’ll fight them,” you start to construct your imaginary plan, the dimples adorning his face making it a bit harder for you to get the words out, “then, they’ll be scared of me and they won’t bother you again. Because if they do, I’ll smash their fucking teeth in. And then… then, you’ll get your peace for good. Easy.”
Namjoon listens with his features bathed in enamoredness, seemingly lost in a deep thought. A twinkle, a twin to yours, glistens in his eyes. Dimples out provoking you, he softly smiles at you. Coyly. He’s unaccustomed to being the one fought for. He’s always been the one who fights. The one who settles, resolves, makes things right. He’s never been the person these things are done for by another person. It makes his heart pulsate in a strange new rhythm. 
He stretches out his hands and runs his fingers through your hair. Begins to plait an intricate braid down your back, keeping you caged in the confines of his arms. Safe. Protected. His warrior princess.
“There’s something else you can do for me,” he mumbles, finished with your braid. Now your hair is away from your face, just like he needs it for what he’s about to do.
“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow in question, your smirk growing on the side of your face. “Like what?”
“I’m so hard for you, baby,” he whispers into your ear, shoulders hunched, lips tracing the edge of your earlobe. A secret just between the two of you. “My body’s confused. I need a release.”
Even though you saw it coming, even though you saw it a hundred times before, you can’t help but gasp at his desperation, bare and open before you. It’s a new experience each time. Thrilling and titillating, the vividness and ferocity of his sexuality. It causes a flock of playful butterflies to buzz you with electricity in your tummy and a shiver to run down your spine. You feel your own neediness making itself known again and you squeeze your thighs together. 
This is the Namjoon you know. Strong in his softness. Mellow. Intense. The Namjoon who showed you plain roughness was a stranger to you, one you could take the time to get to know, because now you understand that the incentive to act like he did was his frustration from work. You can’t really blame the natural inclination of his body—his body that is yours to love in all shapes or forms.
You perceive he needs to let out some steam—he said so himself. Proud of him for voicing it out, a decision to be his helper already makes a way to your heart. You no longer feel slivers of consternation slithering in your veins. Knowing the cause, knowing it’s still your Namjoon helps you submit to the call of his needs. If a dab of roughness is what entails the sand-speckled footpath to the seaside of his well-being, you’ll take it. Welcome it, even. Within the realm of your established boundaries, that is. 
“Can I see?”
The book falls to the floor with a thud. Namjoon stands up. 
Ever so eager. Responding to his body language out of pure instinct, you hum and lift yourself to your knees. The outline of his engorged length, tight in his pants, greets you and you will your brain not to tell your fingers to rub your swollen clit. To busy your hands, you grip the rim until white brushes along your knuckles.
Emerging from the water, it left you smothered in a luster of wet silkiness. Namjoon’s eyes rake over your bare femininity. Heavenly, pure, seraphic. Groans a little loud. Doesn’t know whether to touch you first or his painfully hard and heavy member. You move your body to the side wall of the tub and he follows you, hand opting for his girth to relieve himself a little bit. 
You sit prettily on your folded legs and lean over, pulling his wrist away. You plant a dewy kiss to the middle of his clothed length and look up at him, just at the right time to catch him whimpering. Your clit pulses again and you feel like crying, needing release as much as he does. He doesn’t make it easy for you, making sounds like that.
“What does my baby girl need me to do?” you ask, stroking his member while stifling your giggles at the title that fits him so well. 
“Baby girl?” He frowns down at you. 
It’s usually what he calls you, hence why his confusion. And you call him by an entirely different title, too.
A giggle does escape your mouth after all. You squeeze at his tip, drawing those delicious whimpers out of him again.
“Only needy little baby girls make sounds like that. You are needy, aren’t you?” You lick that sensitive part, palming his balls. 
Namjoon whines. 
The shift of dynamics, the change of titles ever so dizzying to the mind. He doesn’t even have the strength to correct you. 
He grips the back of your head and moves you away from his cock. Then the realization he’s being rough again wafts over him and he softens his hold, fallen stray hairs coming to rest at your temples. Namjoon tucks them behind your ear. Taps you on the cheek once.
“Get to sucking off your baby girl,” he rasps. 
You smile. Find it immensely attractive that he’s embracing the pet name while still being dominant. A masculinity in its true form.
“You can be rough with me if you want to,” you say, wanting to make that clear. “I think I can handle it.”
Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his thumb, pondering.
“Just don’t hit me, okay?” 
He says your name sternly, as if you offended him. “I would never deliberately hurt you. How can you think that?” 
“No, I meant—” You lick your lips. “Don’t slap my boobs or anything. You can spank me, I like that. But don’t be as rough with me as you were. Can we take it slow? Is that okay?”
He stares at you for a moment.  
“Do you trust me?”
You nod, turning your head to press a kiss into his palm. “Yes, I trust you.”
“I’ll teach you, then. We’ll take it slow,” he says, fingers stroking the side of your cheek, where a small amount of fluff creates a path for him to lay down his silent love on. “It was a mistake on my part for not preparing you for it, and for that I’m sorry. But I’ll teach you. Show you how good it is.” He pauses. “Until you beg me for it.”
Your throat dries up. The pulsing in your cunt unbearable. 
“Fuck, Namjoon. Save the talk or I’ll come on the spot.” 
“The talk is important,” he reprimands you. “Whether you come or not without my permission is your problem.” 
“Shit,” you whimper, gripping his hand on your cheek. You tighten your hold as if to brattily change his mind on having this kind of control over your orgasm because you need to come as soon as possible. And not just once. You’re sure your dewiness is leaking into the water. 
“No bad words or I’ll fuck your filthy mouth.” 
You gasp. So unused to this side of him. But it turns you on, now that you feel safe. Turns you unstable.
“Say you’re sorry.”
You’re tumbling out the words before he’s even finished with his sentence. “I’m so sorry.”
He beams at your immediate submission, purring at the quintessence of your compliance. Wants more. “Who are you apologizing to?” 
You pause. His usual title almost slips off of your tongue. But since this is new and you’re both experiencing a new dynamic that causes you to feel so playful, that guides you ever so gently and carefully into the kingdom of subspace, you opt for the pet name that suits him well. “To my baby girl,” you say, laughing softly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” 
He laughs as well, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. You’re giddy that you’re allowed to be wild, your inner child healing and quivering within you. You overflow with the desire to kiss him.
“What for?”
He wants you to say the full sentence. You take a deep breath. 
“Baby girl, I’m so sorry for having a filthy mouth and saying bad words.”
“Hm, do you regret it?” 
You almost curse again. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being bad.”
“Good. Get to work, then,” he says. “Make that mouth useful.”
Fuck.
“Kiss me first, please. Make it better,” you beg, fluttering your eyelashes at him. 
Namjoon moans and you bite your lip. Bends and sucks it between his, deepening the kiss as he opens your jaw and slips his tongue inside. Massages the muscle against yours. Makes those sounds again. Palms his cock. Withdraws with a pop. 
You mewl in satisfaction. That kiss alone ruined you. 
“Good girls get kisses.” Hand under your chin, he squishes your cheeks. “You’ve been exceptionally good. I’m gonna destroy you.” 
He kisses you again with the same intensity but briefly, inhaling your skin. No tongue this time. 
Cheeks awash with rosiness, you hastily unbuckle his belt. Not to cut time and get to his promise faster—on the contrary, you’re dying to pleasure him. He doesn’t help you like he normally does; he merely watches you as you pull down the cotton material of his slacks along with his boxers down his muscular thighs. Only when you wrap your lips around his cock from the side does he throw his head back. Thrusts his hips. 
He’s rock hard. The weight of him makes you absolutely fucked out.
Namjoon likes you there so he keeps you still—there in the middle of his girth. You moan, producing as much saliva as you can to gratify him while he uses your mouth, alternating between keeping those pillows firm and soft. When he gets you to his tip, he expects you to swallow him, but you merely move your head from side to side rapidly, flicking your tongue. Namjoon groans lowly, a string of curse words spilling from his throat. His precum drops onto your chin and you suck in a breath, horny beyond your mind.
You swipe your index finger to collect it. Check if he’s watching before you plunge the digit into your mouth. Roll your eyes back as the tanginess overwhelms your senses. Namjoon hisses. Grabs your braid as if it were a ponytail. Kisses you, aching to be one with you. You feel the vibrations of his fervid mania in unity with him like this and it echoes down your body once he pulls away. 
“Take it in your mouth.” 
Namjoon holds it at the base for you and you find the long vein that you favor so much. Pepper kisses along the length of it, feeling it throb in tandem with your clit. Straightening your spine, you bite your lip. Give him an utter look of adoration before you swipe your tongue along the slit. Humming in delight, you slip him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and you begin to bob your head, fingers following your movement, bumping into his fist. Tears pool in your eyes when you dare to inch closer to his hand and even though you gag, you try your hardest to keep him nice and tucked in your warm throat. You sputter and cough, swallowing around him, because you deem he deserves it, knowing how much he loves it when your flesh contracts around him like that, and Namjoon groans deeply. It fills you with a dose of satisfaction almost akin to an orgasm, the lack of oxygen in your brain heightening the experience so much that your head spins. 
“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”
He slips out of your mouth. Pats you on your head before he sinks his fingers into your hair, gripping at the roots. Ascertains you pay attention to him. 
“Don’t do that again,” he says, softly. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath with me.”
You’re still on your knees and he’s merely looking down at you. You fold your hands on your lap. Your mind is so empty that you’re not sure how you feel right now, having been entirely focused on his pleasure. 
Namjoon inhales deeply with his nose and you do the same.
Inhale, exhale. 
Fondly, he caresses you on your cheek.
“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you explain yourself, thinking that you should.
“I know, baby, and you did. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” He smiles at you. “You hear me? I’m not mad at you.”
You nod your head yes. Pout. 
“You feeling okay? Take a deep breath for me again.” 
You do as he says, your senses returning to you like a warm spring wind. 
“Better now?”
You nod again.
“Words.”
You wet your lips with your tongue. “Yes, I feel better now.”
“Good. Do you still wanna continue?”
“Yes, Namjoon. I wanna make you come.” 
Almost like you flipped a switch, his eyes darken. 
“Hands behind your back,” he rasps. 
You oblige, crisscrossing your wrists below the dimples on your lower back.
“‘Atta girl. Back to work, come on.” 
It’s much harder to do so without your hands, especially in the position you’re in. You hesitate.
“I don’t know if I can,” you admit. 
He tuts in pity. “Should I use you then?”
You roll your eyes back, the idea intoxicating your body. You feel woozy. 
“Yes, please.” 
“Focus on your breathing, okay?” 
“Yes, Namjoon.”
Humming, Namjoon grabs your hair gently and sinks your mouth down on his cock, moves you up and down slowly. You focus on not just sucking in your cheeks but also on breathing through your nose like he told you, although you can’t help but moan around him. It turns you on how he manhandles you to his liking so delicately. You swirl your tongue around his tip once he wants you there and you let out a series of whines and whimpers. He keeps you there for a little longer, moaning after you, the sounds creating a paradisiacal symphony. You twist your head in half circles as you continue sucking him, slobbering all over him, using your tongue to flick beneath the mushroom. 
“So good, baby. Yes, fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re gonna make me come.” 
You pull away, but a string of saliva still connects you to him. 
He blinks at you. “You want a spanking?” 
You run the tip of your tongue along the top of your lip, giving him the eyes. Cock your eyebrow at him. Namjoon draws a sharp breath in. 
He leans over. One hand tugs at your braid firmly to arch your back over the edge of the tub. The other smacks you sharply on your ass cheek, smoothing over the sting. You moan, nipples rubbing over the cold surface, curse words dying on your tongue. Namjoon grips the flesh, spanks you again. Skims his fingers over your exposed heat. Repeats it on the other cheek, twice in a row. You wiggle your hips, needing to feel more, needing him to touch you right there between your legs. You cry out into his ear.
Letting go of your braid, Namjoon kisses you beneath your jaw. Slides his tongue along the sensitive spot, sucking it between his lips. A secret message that he hears you, that he’ll fuck your needy cunt soon.
“Think you’ll be a good girl for now?” 
Furrowing your eyebrows, you nod a few times. Not a single rational thought passes through your brain. 
Namjoon straightens. Pulls down his foreskin for you. “Spit on it.” 
You watch as your liquid love trickles down and lands on his tip. He hums and surprises you by wrapping your hands around his girth, spreading down the lubrication with you. You feel the ridges and the thick vein in a new, vehement way and even though you’re not the one pleasured, you moan. The simple up and down movement grows in rapidness that your body follows, emulating the effort, making it seem like you’re bouncing on a dick. Your ass splashes the water around, creating tender waves full of love, inherited from your still leaking dewiness. 
His hands are so warm enclasped around yours, pressed tight. Not once unclenching.
You start blabbering. 
“You’re so big. I can’t even wrap my hand around you.” You make sure to look him in the eyes as you say it. “So big in my mouth, too. Could barely fit you.” 
Your words set those twilit embers in his eyes on fire. His breathing quickens. He’s close again and you’re stunned, once more, by the vividness of his sexuality. Your hands go limp in his grasp.
“Nuh-uh, keep up the pace,” he husks. “Thought I was your little baby girl?” 
You shake your head, willing your hands to gain strength again, but it has no source to draw from. “Not anymore.”
Namjoon chuckles, darkly. Notices your movements fluctuating, arms shaking. “Tired?”
You nod and he unclasps his hands. You twist your wrists in circles to alleviate them from a cramp. 
Then, you get an idea.
Sitting back on your heels, you arch your back. Tip your chin down and spit on your chest, the essence flowing down the pathway between your breasts. You do it again, though this time you spread it on your skin. 
“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon mumbles. Unbuttons his shirt. You squeeze your nipples with both hands as your eyes flick to his, then down to his exposed chest. “How are you gonna address me, huh? What’s my name?”
He forcefully tugs the fabric off of his arms, tossing it on the floor. His body—with its vulgar beauty, broadness and definition—takes your breath away. You don’t let it show, or perhaps you pretend that you don’t because you allow your hand to travel down your stomach. Namjoon imitates you, running his fingers down the chiseled muscles that make you drool. He stops at the hair adorning his pelvis. You don’t.
You rub circles on your clit instead.
“Daddy,” you cry out in pleasure, announcing his title—his rightful, most fitting title. Face contorting at the brisk, blooming flashes of sensuality rising up your form.
His body tenses. It’s like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you, pulling you out of the bathtub and spanking you until your bottom resembles the water. Or tugging at his length until he paints you white with his cum. 
You make it easy for him. 
Lifting your body, you step over the edge of the bathtub. Kneel at his feet on the fluffy black mat. Far enough for him to see purple liquid pearls make their way down to your cunt. Far enough for him to see how you resume those circles on your bundle of nerves, fingers reaching to your hole for lubrication. You roll your hips into your hand, arm propped behind you.
“What’s this show?” Namjoon rasps, his cock twitching. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself. You wanna end up with zero orgasms?”
You pause. 
“That’s what I thought,” he says. “I believe you have unfinished work to do.” 
You smile mischievously. “You want it bad, don’t you?” 
Namjoon nods. Holds out his hand. “Come to Daddy.”
Exuberantly, you leap into his arms. Namjoon throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and walks into your shared bedroom. Sets you down on your bed, spreading your legs, and he crouches between them, reaching into his bedside table for the tool that he wants. 
The aroma of strawberries lovingly boops you on the nose. Namjoon squirts a good amount of lubrication on your chest, paying special attention to the pathway in the middle of your breasts. He massages it in, incorporates your sensitive nipples in the preparation, coaxing whimper after whimper out of you by squeezing them and rolling them between his long fingers.
“I’m gonna make a mess,” you say, grinding your hips against nothing.
Namjoon clicks his tongue. “Already?” 
Your dewiness oozes out of you onto the bedding. To prove your point, you lean back on your elbows and lift your knees, revealing your dripping hole and the shine of your soaked folds. Namjoon stares at your cunt but doesn’t touch, doesn’t blink. He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes to yours. 
He kisses the middle of your tummy. Moves over to your heat. Licks a tiny stripe on your clit.
You cry out.
“Namjoon!”
Hands on either side of your waist, crawling up to you, he growls. “Good girls are patient, aren’t they?” 
He doesn’t wait for your response. 
“They take what is given to them and they finish what they started,” he continues. “Don’t they?”
You nod.
“And you are a good girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m a good girl.” 
“Then thank your Daddy for what he gave you.” 
Your walls squeeze around nothing when you hear him utter his title. It refreshes your body with energy. 
“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile. 
Namjoon kisses you, rewarding you.
“Sit up.”
Changing the layout, it’s Namjoon who reclines halfway on the bed while you sit perched on your knees between his legs, cock in your face. He spurts the lube on his length and jerks himself off, his skin shining in the abrupt spillage of burnt-orange sunlight from the window. Watches your eyes round in astonishment similarly to the way they did earlier when you had gazed upon the glitter swarming around you. 
He nods at you, giving you the green light, and you sheathe his girth into the tightness of your squished tits. You may start a face pace from the get go, fucking him into oblivion, but all Namjoon sees is the whites of your eyes, the glimmer, the pure enjoyment of what you’re doing while the rest of you is immersed in subdued late afternoon shadows. Sweat glistens on the planes of his face, dribbling down to the strained column of his neck.
It’s intense. So intense that he can’t vocally react. 
Precum appears once more on his mushroom, displaying his arousal, and you slurp it up, the braid coming undone—your hair falling around you like a curtain. 
It’s brutal. It’s wet. 
Namjoon gathers your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail and leans over to be closer to you. Needs you like this. Feels his relief catching up to him the more effort you put in, the more you stick out your tongue to flick at that sensitive part of him whenever you can. 
“Want your come. So bad. Want it all over me,” you whisper, and that’s it for him. 
“Say please,” he murmurs, and it’s barely a sound, but you hear him. 
“Please, Daddy, come for me.” 
Pulling your hands away, Namjoon takes charge. Fucks your tits in frenzy, your hair, now half dry, tickling your skin. With his thumbs, he stimulates your nipples to coax those little sounds of yours and—
“Play with your pussy,” he commands. “But don’t come. Tease yourself like you teased Daddy.”
The relief on your face inches him closer to his. He hears the wetness as you dip a finger in, your walls sucking it in. He hears your breath get stuck in your throat. The slow crescendo of your moans. Suddenly, he hears himself too. 
Whiny, desperate, so unlike himself.
It’s a fortress of safety, his forehead on top of yours. His nose bumping against yours. Open mouth ghosting over the sounds of your well-deserved pleasure. It’s a safe place for him to come in.  
And he does. 
Ropes upon ropes of come color you ivory white, color you clean. The reversal of a coloring book—changing the lines, changing the scheme, changing your life. 
You milk him dry, your pussy long forgotten. Milk him until he pushes you away, chest heaving, unable to catch his breath. You just watch him, his seed hot on your chest. Glittery. And not just there. On your neck, on your chin, in the wavy strands of your hair. 
You’re in awe of him. You can see the pressure leaving him like a ghost slinking out of the window. 
Namjoon takes off his glasses. With two fingers, he collects as much of his essence as he can and plunges them into your mouth. The other hand rests on the crook of your neck, thumb protectively over your throat. “Swallow.”
Not for long. Namjoon throws you on the bed. Doesn’t waste time.
He laps up your pussy, clit to hole, sucking your labia into his mouth. He does it again, but this time he travels a bit further. Clit, hole, ass. Tongue flat. Your screams are muffled by the rumpled bedsheet you grip.
Going back to your leaking hole, he circles the flesh before he dips the tongue in. Wraps his arms around your ass to control your squirming, feeling the dip of your spine as the sunlight kisses it. Dust particles spiral in the air—Namjoon sees it. The dark grey curtain keeping half of the world shrouded in dimness while the other illuminated, a picture cut in a heart shape due to the deliciousness of your ass. 
Fuck, Namjoon longs to play with it again. 
He spits on it, rubbing the saliva around it before he slides his tongue back into your wet hole. Says hello to it—long time no see—teases it, before he dips his thumb in. You arch your back even more, welcoming the intrusion, and Namjoon kisses your pussy lips as a thank you. He quivers with the craving to fuck you right there in your ass, but knows better than to do it. You’re not ready for it. 
Spreading you more open, while keeping his thumb there in that sweet place, he begins to focus on your poor little clit. Swirls his tongue around it firmly, sucking it until your back trembles—goes up and down like a seesaw. The kisses he leaves there are obscene, loud, full of thankfulness that he gets to play with you. Full of love for you that he burns bright with—that propels him to flick his tongue harder. And full of joy that his stress is gone. Joy that you’ve been the helper unscrewing the steel body of heaviness off of his because, as of now, his bones feel lighter.
“You’re so good for me.” He smacks his lips against your cunt. “Fucking Daddy like that when he needed you.” 
Vigorously, he rubs his face against you, shaking his head from side to side. You stretch your fingers behind you and helplessly grip the back of your thighs. Namjoon catches one of your hands, holds it with his free four fingers, sucking your clit. 
“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, withdrawing to pay attention to your other hole, missing it. Abuses it once he spits on it, eating it, dipping his tongue in with ease since he stretched you. Fucks you there in the only way he can. 
“Wanna come?” he asks and as he waits for your answer, he goes lower to drink your freshness, not letting a drop go to waste. 
You’ve lost your voice screaming. “Yes, Daddy, please. I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, let me come,” you croak. 
Namjoon makes a sound of appreciation, proud of you for holding out for so long without saying anything.
“I think you can,” he says. Stuffs a finger into your dripping hole and lets you adjust for a moment. Adds another. “I think you can hold it while I count to ten.” 
His digits pump into you slowly. Kneeling by your side, he turns your head so you can see him, twisting your body into the position he wants. The curve of your back is so beautiful in his sight that he can’t help but run his free hand over the route that your spine has become. The route he wants to plant kisses on like flowers of various colors, adding to the coloring book, erasing the old. 
And he does. Begins at the nape of your neck. Picks up the speed.
“One.” 
You cry out. First before your tears rush out, pooling in your waterline. You clench your whole body in naive hope it would stall the orgasm, but it quickens it, squeezing his fingers in, so you relax your muscles. 
“Two.” 
A kiss to the first round protrusion of your spine. Shifting your weight to your shoulder, you take his cock into your hand. 
“Three.”
The middle of your shoulder blades. You hear your wetness oozing out of you, the relief prowling closer. You whine and Namjoon understands.
“Hold it or I’ll stop,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers. Relax.” 
You match your pace with his. Namjoon begins to pant. You feel his hot, heavy breath beneath your shoulder blades. 
“Six.” 
Ass shaking from the force, he jackhammers into you. Pulls out for a moment to spank you, a merciful gesture, before he’s back in. Leaves a wet fingerprint on your skin.
“Eight.”
The last protrusion of your spine. You silence your moans by pressing your hand against your mouth because they bring you closer to your orgasm, however Namjoon yanks your arm away. 
“Make those pretty sounds for me, come on,” he huffs, kissing both of those dimples on your back. “Ten. Come. Come for Daddy. Come all over his hand.”
And you do.
It’s a paradise, the heat closing in on you. The loss of hearing, the muted ringing, resembling the flap of a bird’s wing. The loss of surroundings as you’re momentarily transported somewhere entirely else. A gilded illustration, perhaps a lively projection. Something, somewhere, where all is good. The orgasm rips through you and the repetitive echo of his name leaving your mouth is what brings you back. Away from the storybook into a brand new coloring book.
Namjoon strokes your hair. 
He holds you in his arms, but something sticks you uncomfortably together. You peel yourself off of him and cringe. Strings upon strings of his come, gleaming with speckles of glitter, do not want you to leave. You sit on his thighs, resting your palms on his chest. 
He kisses you. “Are you okay?”
You nod with droopy eyelids. 
He carries you into the shower and makes a way for all colors of the rainbow to perfuse your body. To create a new storyline for the day, for the week, for the month. Reds and pinks show their faces first in the steam, and even though Namjoon is glad to see them, he looks forward to meeting the rest. To learning their objectives so he can fulfill them. 
Grabbing the yellow book on the way back to the bedroom, Namjoon makes himself comfortable beside you. Is careful not to touch your face out of habit because you have a face mask on; careful not to bump into you either because you have a plate of mozzarella and sliced tomatoes on your lap. He kisses your hair, though. Doesn’t have the strength to fight internally—grabs your jawline and ever so slowly and heedfully, he kisses you, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly. 
“When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous cockroach in his bed.” 
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© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
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nisuna · 4 months
Note
Need more yuuji smut!!
So hear me out-
bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.
Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff
Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3
⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this
TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji
~2,8k words~
<3masterlist<3
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--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------
Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.
It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.
"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.
"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.
"Yuji, what are you doing here?"
"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.
"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"
"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."
"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.
"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.
"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.
"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."
You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.
He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"
"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.
"Want me to carry you?"
"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.
"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."
"Okay."
After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.
Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.
------
You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.
"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.
"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."
"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"
"All day actually...", you confessed.
His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.
After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."
"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Can we cuddle too?"
"We can do whatever you need."
That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"
"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."
"Just what?"
"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."
"But I'm sure, I really want this-"
"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."
You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.
You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.
After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.
"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.
"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.
"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."
You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.
"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.
"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.
"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.
"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.
"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.
"Nope."
"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.
"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."
That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.
"You're practically drooling."
"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.
"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.
"Can I touch you?"
"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"
His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.
"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.
"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.
"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.
"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.
"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.
"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."
Before he could leave you, you stopped him.
"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.
"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.
Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.
He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.
"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."
"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.
"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."
You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.
Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.
"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."
So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.
The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.
"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."
If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.
"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.
Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.
When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.
Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.
"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."
"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.
You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.
"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."
You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.
Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.
--------
If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah
Hope to see you all very soon<3
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wineauntie · 5 months
Note
can you write on for quinn where you cook dinner together
A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE – quinn hughes x gf!reader (smut)
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note: I know this isn’t my Luke imagine but I couldn’t sleep until I wrote this request! I was so in love with this idea and I can’t lie, I hadn’t planned on it slipping into nsfw material but it all just happened before I could stop, so I hope you enjoy it!
Smut will be separated with asterisks***
warnings: SMALL SECTION OF NSFW CONTENT, MDNI 18+, fem!reader, smut, fingering, f receiving, reader is a ray of sunshine, fluff to the extreme– Quinn is so whipped for reader. Use of nicknames: pretty girl, sweet girl and baby. Quinn has a dirty mouth fr, reader likes cooking and baking.
word count: 3.7k+
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One thing you had yet to get used to was the coldness that could sweep across Vancouver. Winter was never too extreme here but occasionally, the snow and stormy weather would infiltrate and last anywhere from a few days to a week. You loved the snow with your whole heart, you just hated being cold...hence why the heating in the apartment had been on blast since you’d reentered your home. You'd been sent home early, by your manager when she'd heard that there was a storm inbound. You'd jumped at the opportunity and rushed home as soon as possible.
Upon your arrival home, you'd instantly stripped yourself of your multiple layers and shrugged on a pair of your fluffiest socks. You'd flitted around the apartment lighting several candles around the kitchen, and living room, along with turning on various lamps you'd found in thrift shops downtown.
You hummed lightly, content in the comfort as you moved into the kitchen, an empty cup that had once been filled to the brim with tea tucked in your hand. The kitchen was your pride and joy out of the whole apartment. It had been painted a softened yellow hue, with white vinyl cabinets and rustic wooden shelves stocked with plants, cooking books and various trinkets. Your varnished wooden countertops lay home to multiple chopping boards, even more plants and a range of appliances.
"I'll be home in five :)"
Your smile widened as the text lit up your phone. You bit your lip as you placed the cup by the kettle and leaned against one of the countertops, your eyes scanning the silent kitchen. You turned towards the small radio hidden between the plants behind you on the windowsill, as your thumb scrolled through your Spotify playlist on your phone whilst the Bluetooth connected. Selecting your favourite playlist, you let out a content sigh, turning up the volume to fill the quiet.
You were in the mood to cook. The need always swept over you every time you stepped into the kitchen, but tonight it was overwhelming. You moved around the kitchen, opening cabinets and the fridge, searching for inspiration to hit you.
Your search was interrupted as the creaking of the front door erupted from the hallway. You heard rustling before the door creaked shut once more. You beamed and hurried towards the door, barrelling towards your boyfriend as he swiped the grey beanie off his head.
"Oh, hello," he smiled, letting his arms fall around you as you crashed into his chest. You felt giddy, quite like you always did when you found yourself around Quinn. "Have a good day?"
"Mhm..." You nodded as you unlatched from him, allowing him to take off his jacket and shoes. "Got sent home earlier due to the storm. How was practice?"
"Good, we just ran drills" Quinn supplied before he turned towards you and tackled you in another hug, basically carrying you towards the kitchen. "'m feeling a bit hungry though, will we order in?"
"I was thinking of making something," you spoke, your hands draped around his neck and your feet on top of his as he moved to set his keys on the counter. "I couldn't decide though...I wanted to wait and see what you'd maybe like."
It was Quinn's turn to hum as he bent down to bury his face in the nape of your neck. "What about pasta?" He suggested, as your eyes ran around the shelves for any stand-out cookery book.
"We had that yesterday," You dismissed with a frown whilst your eyebrows scrunched together.
"We could have it again," he shrugged, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse point. "The Italians have that stuff almost every day, surely we'll survive."
Your eyes lit up at his words as you yanked yourself from his grip and bounded across the kitchen. You pulled yourself up on top of one of the counters and grabbed a cooking book from the top shelf. As soon as you moved, Quinn followed, his arms anchored on either side of your legs in case you were to fall.
"How do you feel about pizza?" You questioned with a gleam in your eyes as Quinn helped you down from the counter. "I have a recipe that's easy to make from scratch...ooh! We could also make garlic bread!"
He watched you with soft eyes as you spoke excitedly, your eyes scanning the open cabinets for the ingredients. He loved to see you like this, with happiness radiating out of you. It made the stormy and snowy days like today seem incredibly irrelevant because who needed the sun when you'd bottled it up and released it with every grin you let slip across your face?
"Pizza sounds great, pretty girl." He smiled, his hands running down both of your arms soothingly.  "As long as I can help?" He didn't know your twinkling smile could grow any larger, but it had as you practically bounced across the kitchen to grab two aprons.
"Apron up, Hughes," you teased, handing him the pale green apron you'd bought him when you'd moved in.
"I should be saying that to you," he remarked, tying the apron behind his back with a smirk. "I know how messy you can get."
With a feigned look of shock, you playfully whacked Quinn with your apron, stumbling when he caught it in his grasp and pulled it towards him so that you were now nose to nose.
You watched with bated breath as he placed the half apron around your waist, turning you to tie a neat bow in the back. His hands lingered over your waist as you turned around to face him once more. You stood on your toes and pressed a delicate kiss to his lips.
"Welcome home, by the way," you laughed as you pulled away. "I forgot to do it when you walked in."
"Oh, I know," Quinn replied, leaning forward and claiming another kiss before allowing you to grab your cooking book. You hummed along to the song playing in the background as your fingers skimmed through the pages, looking for the pizza recipe.
"Okay, I have dough left over in the fridge from those garlic and rosemary knots I made the other night, so it should be okay to use that for the base," you began as you moved to open the fridge and rummaged for the dough. You retrieved the container you knew was filled with dough and glanced at Quinn. "This should be enough for one big pizza? And we could share it with the garlic bread?"
"Sounds good, baby," Quinn agreed from his place at the sink where he was drying his washed hands. He made his way towards the cabinets and began to pull out an array of ingredients.
You let him walk back and forth to the countertop you intended to use as you scrubbed your hands in the sink. Quinn was continually examining the cookbook, depositing all the ingredients one by one until they were organised in front of the refrigerated dough.
"Okay," you huffed, your hands settling on your hips as you joined his side. "We need to preheat the oven, make the sauce and roll out the dough." You moved towards the oven, pressing a few buttons before returning to your station. "Step one, done! Alright, how about you crush one clove of garlic for the sauce and then maybe four or five for the bread and I'll start mixing the tomato passata and basil?"
Quinn nodded, his mouth slightly agape at how easily you controlled the world when cooking. Whilst he began rooting through the drawers for the garlic crusher, you began to pour out the passata into a large mixing bowl, which Quinn had grabbed and placed down whilst you were washing your hands.
Your humming filled the kitchen as you stirred. Quinn quickly crushed the garlic, looking at you for confirmation as he dumped the one clove into the sauce. You grinned from ear to ear, thanking him as he moved on, crushing the rest of the garlic and grabbing the butter from the fridge. You continuously stirred, ensuring the sauce had been mixed thoroughly. You made light conversation with Quinn as you worked, recounting your day from start to finish.
Quinn listened intently, soaking in your words as if they were honey. He listened as you told him all about your lovely local customers at the cafe to the cat you saw in an alley on the way to work, and he drank all of it in, his eyes finding it hard to focus on the task when your magnetism sought out for him.
"Oh, Q, there should be fresh ciabatta in the bread bin," You told him, "I picked some up when leaving work earlier, just in case we needed it…lucky us!”
"You are something else," Quinn commented with a lazy smile, his hands lightly brushing your allowed back as he moved to grab it. Shivers erupted down your spine at the sparse touch, a breathy sigh escaping your lips.
"Okay, so," You clapped your hands, "the sauce is all mixed, so is the garlic butter–thank you, now...it's just the dough and then toppings!"
Quinn helped set out a large baking sheet and sprinkled some loose flour across the countertop as you retrieved the dough from its container.
"Why don't you grab toppings, and I can start rolling?" You proposed, your bright eyes examining Quinn's face.
"Yes, chef," he saluted, causing you to laugh and push his chest. You slightly shook your head with a smile as you rolled out the dough, trying to maintain an even base. You focused on rolling, your eyebrows scrunched in concentration as your fingers darted out to roll the edges for the crust.
Quinn soon returned to the countertop with an armful of toppings in suit. He placed them all carefully nearby, so as not to crowd you as you focused.
"Why don't we split the pizza into four and do a different topping for each quarter," Quinn murmured, brushing a fleck of flour off of your cheekbone.
"You are incredible," You gushed, your eyes widening at the thought before your face turned rather stern. "but if I see one tiny sliver of pineapple, Quintin Jerome, I will not be happy!"
"No pineapple, pretty girl," he chuckled, "I got it."
Quinn helped to hold the sauce bowl as you gently scooped out and spread the sauce across the base of the pizza before the two of you scattered the mozzarella on top. You and Quinn each took half of the pizza, allowing the two of you complete control of the two quarters.
On one of yours, you placed sliced tomatoes and green peppers with a scattered spread of pesto, whereas on the other, you dispersed diced onions and spinach. Satisfied with your side, you glanced at Quinn, knowing all too well, he would add the meat to both of his. Lo and behold, he had placed pepperoni on one and pre-shredded chicken and red peppers on his other.
His arm fell around your shoulder as both of you stepped back to admire the masterpiece you'd created.
"I almost feel bad having to put it into the oven," you say sombrely.
"I can do it," Quinn spoke, his raspy voice low. "Saves me from worrying about you burning yourself."
"That was one time, mister," you huffed, pointing your finger at him in mock accusation, but your smile betrayed you.
"One time too many," he chided as he removed his arm from your shoulder and cautiously lifted the baking sheet that the pizza had been rolled on, moving it onto a tray before sliding it into the oven and setting the timer.
You watched until he shut the oven door before you sprang into cleaning mode, gathering all of the used equipment and placing them by the sink. Just as you took off your apron and were about to roll up your sleeves, your arms were restricted by Quinn's hands around your wrists as he slowly tutted.
"Nuh, uh," he shook his head with a pointed look, spinning you slowly to face him. "I'll clean up after dinner."
"But–"
"No buts,"
"I thought you liked my butt," you simpered cheekily, causing Quinn to roll his eyes.
"I do...very much," he agreed, pulling you into the centre of the kitchen before he lowered his voice. "Especially when it's squirming beneath me as you beg me to let you come."
All air left your lungs as a nonchalant Quinn stretched out a hand to turn up the music. Etta James' A Sunday Kind of Love had just begun to play, her sultry and smooth voice echoing around the kitchen as your boyfriend held you in his close grasp.
"Dance with me," He held your arms, his eyes searching yours for an answer. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you stepped closer to him, your chests pressed together, one of your hands clasping his, whilst the other curled around his neck, toying with the strands at the base.
The soft glow of the candles and kitchen lights created a warm ambience, casting intertwined shadows that danced along with your synchronized movements. Quinn's fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, pulling you even closer as the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you enveloped in the timeless embrace of the music.
Your head lifted from where it had found itself nuzzled into him. Quinn's loving gaze locked onto yours, his eyes reflecting a mixture of playfulness and desire. The warmth of the kitchen, the subtle scent of dinner lingering in the air, and the rhythmic beat of the music made you want to bounce up and down with joy, belting from the rooftops that you adored your boyfriend and anything he did.
The dance floor was the small expanse of tile under your feet, but at that moment, it felt like you were lost in a world of your own creation, each step cementing the love and care you had for the man in front of you.
In a stolen moment with the music as your witness, Quinn leaned in. His lips met yours in a tender kiss as if sealing an unspoken pact, and for a fleeting instant, the only thing you could fathom was the taste of his lips.
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. Your smile traipsed across your face as you leaned forward, recapturing his lips, and deepening the embrace. His thumb caressed your cheekbone as you sighed happily, your fingers soothingly twirling around his hair.
In a sudden move, Quinn's hands dropped down and grabbed your waist as he picked you up and carried you towards the dining table. You emitted a loud squeal, the two of your faces remaining close together as he monitored your emotions. You were still laughing when you were placed down on top of the table, his arms caging your body as his nose skimmed along the warmth of your neck. He placed a gentle kiss on the supple skin beneath your ear, earning him a quiet gasp for air whilst he moved across your jaw until finally lingering a mere centimetre away from your lips.
You whined as you tried to lean forward and take his lips with your own only to be stopped by an amused and dishevelled Quinn, avoiding your movement. His blown pupils examined your wide eyes and pouting mouth before he finally crashed his lips to yours once more.
***
This time, your kiss was feverish, your hands grasping at Quinn's shoulders as his ran along your thighs before creeping towards the waistband of your pants. You careened into his touch, panting into the kiss as he slowly shifted your weight so you were against him before he yanked down your pants, and tossed them across the room.
You gasped at the suddenness of it, your head spinning in need as Quinn pulled away to let you breathe, continuing his tirade of kisses down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point to slowly suckle at your skin. You let out a prolonged moan, your neck arching as one of his hands held your cheek to tilt your head, giving him more access to the skin there, whilst the other hand's fingertips traced circles on your upper thigh.
You melted at his touch, your body putty as he ran his tongue over the reddened patch of skin on your neck once more before he pulled away, placing open-mouthed kisses up to your ear. You gulped as his fingers brushed across the fabric of your panties, your eyes fluttering shut as he stroked his thumb against your cheek.
"Oh, baby," his deep and comforting voice drawled, "you're soaked through." You whimpered as Quinn removed his fingers from the material, placing them lightly in your pubic bone. "You been waiting all day for this, hm?"
You looked toward Quinn, whose darkened eyes kept a careful watch on your face. Your throat tightened as your words failed you, nodding frantically, while your hands desperately gripped his shirt.
"Words, y/n/n," he spoke more softly, his nose brushing yours as he shifted his position.
"Yes," you immediately gasped out, your half-lidded eyes overwhelmed with desire. "Need you...please!"
"So polite," he cooed, his finger tucking a strand of hair out of your face. "I'll tell you what, pretty girl, since you asked so nicely, I'll give you what you need." His fingers above the waistband of your panties slipped beneath the fabric as you let out a breathy moan. His fingers met your wetness instantaneously, a deep grumble slipping from his lips at the feeling.
"All this for me, huh?" He murmured, his finger circling your bud as you struggled to speak. Your head fell back in silent ecstasy, with your mouth agape as he slowly worked a finger inside of you, your walls clenching down as he moved it in and out. "You look so pretty like this," Quinn spoke in hushed tones, "all wet, needy and mine."
"Yours," you parroted breathlessly as he sank another thick finger inside of you. His other hand remained cradling your head, his lips ducking to kiss yours as your body trembled around him. He pushed his body closer to yours, causing your legs to spread further, his clothed groin skimming your own.
"You take my fingers so well," Quinn praised, his eyes unmoving from your blissed face. The feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of your drenched core, fired up every brain cell to send you into overdrive, wiping away any thought other than the pleasure he was giving you. Your hips bucked towards his fingers with a shameless moan, as you tried to feel as much of him as he was letting you.
He curled his fingers inside of you as he moved them quicker, his thumb moving upwards to stroke your sensitive bud whilst you crumbled on the table, the only thing keeping you upright being Quinn's steady hand on your face.
"Oh, does my girl need to come already?" Quinn lowly taunted, as he picked up the pace, his fingers now in an upbeat rhythm, in and out of you, as his thumb furiously rubbed your clit. Your staggered breaths and squeaks of pleasure grew rapid as your fists clenched tight around his shirt.
"Please, Q," you babbled as you begged, your eyes swimming as you found yourself stammering—drunk off of the feeling of Quinn's intoxicating touch. "Please, let me come, please?" You practically sobbed out your words, your back arching as the knot of warmth in your stomach grew tighter.
You felt his breathy laugh against your cheek as his fingers continued their onslaught of pleasures. Quinn leaned closer, letting his chest press flush against yours before he whispered a single word.
"Come.”
You needed no more prompting as your eyes fell shut and you cried out, a loud series of moans tumbling from your lips. Your body shuddered as the knot in your stomach snapped and pleasure erupted across every nerve, sending tingles down your spine all the way to your toes as Quinn worked you through your orgasm. He pumped his fingers in and out until he'd drawn out as much pleasure as he could, leaving you a panting and soaked mess.
The sharp ringing of the oven timer resounded and Quinn chuckled, removing his fingers from you as you whined at the loss of his touch. He raised the fingers to his mouth and licked your juices off of them, his gaze never straying from your overwhelmed self.
***
"Just in time," he said as his fingers popped out of his mouth. His lazy grin returned to his face as he moved both of his hands beneath your shaking legs before placing you down on a blanket on the couch in the living room. He moved the blanket to cover your legs as well as the couch beneath you before stepping back.
"You sit here, sweet girl, I'll sort the food." He told you, his hand lightly brushing over your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to your head as you slumped into the softness of the couch.
You sat happily, watching as Quinn moved around the kitchen so freely as if he hadn't just pushed you into oblivion. You found yourself smiling softly as you settled into the warmth and it hadn't taken him long to reappear with one large serving platter with your pizza on top.
He sat down beside you as you quietly sprang to nestle into his side, trying to get as close to him as possible. He held a slice of pizza towards your mouth as you slowly bit into the end, before swallowing it. Quinn talked quietly to you as you ate, choosing to feed you at least one whole slice before he dug into his own. You remained cuddled into his side as you finished the slice, his arm draped around your shoulders.
"The garlic bread's just gone into the oven," Quinn whispered, watching as your eyes searched for something. They snapped towards Quinn at his words and he raised a brow knowing he'd hit the jackpot. You buried yourself in his side once more, his hand running through your hair as he plastered a joking smile across his face- the smile you adored.
"I got so caught up in dessert that I completely forgot about the sides..."
a/n: I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for this man <33
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