#it turned out exactly like i wanted it to <3

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Sunghoon

doll!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements, anything else lmk! wc: 8.9k synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return jaeyun | masterlist | jongseong a/n: hi! this is the second installation of this series and i'm enjoying writing it so so much! there's a little bit of the lore in here and i tried to put in some little nuggets like word play and everything to give you guys some hints! i hope you enjoy and as always, likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

In the week following your encounter with Jaeyun, you've stirred something deep within him. Whenever possible, he finds his way to your side, lending himself to you as he helps you with your daily chores, holding onto your hand when you sit down for some relaxation time between cleaning and cooking, and most importantly - at least for him - he’s been fucking you like crazy.

Something about last week made him feel alive, stronger than he had ever felt before, and he wanted to have that feeling ignited within him almost every day. He coaxed you into having sex a second time around by using those beautiful round eyes to pull at your heartstrings and break your resolve and from then your embarrassment subsided and you used one another to your heart's desire.

Having sex with a doll puts you in the same bracket as those lonely middle-aged men who have no friends and find solace with their rubber girlfriends, which is quite embarrassing. But this is different, you like to think, Jaeyun is for all intent and purpose alive and might as well be a real human.

Sure, he doesn’t have internal organs, his skin is made from thermoplastic elastomer, and his doll shell is made from durable porcelain with insulated heat, but he’s as real as they come. You did ask him how he can get hard and fill you up to the brim with his faux seed, but he says it’s just the way he’s designed. 

Soonyeol is a kinky bitch and she knew exactly what she was doing when she purchased these specific dolls.

You break Soonyeol’s rules almost every day because of him though, venturing into his room to fuck him silly, both of you seeking pleasure and comfort in each other's presence, holding one another close late into the night, swapping stories and laughter; it is nice to have someone to talk to, even if it’s in hushed tones.

Your inquiries into his origins and existence yield no concrete answers; after all, he's only been "alive" for a short time and consequently doesn’t know much about himself, his only offering is to explain that Heeseung and Jongseong know the most out of the four of them. And with your promise to Jaeyun to keep his slip-up of spilling the beans to you a secret from his brothers, seeking clarification from the other dolls remains off-limits.

That doll can get you to do anything he asks if he wants to and it’s almost embarrassing to admit.

As you go about your daily routines, you maintain a facade of normalcy, interacting with the other three dolls just as you did before discovering their secret. You speak to them as if they were merely inanimate objects, not expecting any response in return.

Despite your efforts to remain composed, a sense of unease creeps in the longer you’re in the room with any of them that isn’t Jaeyun. You can't shake the feeling that their eyes are following you, tracking your every move with an unsettling intensity. What once was blissful ignorance is now hyper-awareness. 

At times, you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye, only to find objects mysteriously rearranged or misplaced when you turn to investigate. It's a subtle form of mischief, one that leaves you feeling disconcerted and off-balance, unsure of what other tricks they may have up their sleeves.

Jaeyun assures you time and time again that none of his brothers would act in malice, however, his words fail to instil any comfort, especially around Heeseung. 

From the moment you arrived at the mansion, Heeseung had captivated you with an inexplicable allure, drawing you in with an intensity that bordered on hypnotic. It was as if he possessed a power unlike any of the other dolls. He was the one that got you to say yes to staying, you know it.

But beneath that surface charm, there's a darkness that unsettles you, a sense of malevolence that lingers in the air whenever he's near. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's a palpable sense of foreboding that hangs over your interactions with him, like a shadow creeping across your consciousness. He is dangerous and the soul - or whatever it is that he has that brings his doll to life - is entrenched in a dark cloud, one that you want to steer clear of for the rest of your time.

Despite your reservations, you find yourself drawn to Heeseung, unable to resist the pull of his enigmatic presence. But with each passing day, the feeling of unease only grows stronger, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath his doll facade.

You’re cleaning the library and the sun is beaming through the large windows, the hot sun adding an uncomfortable heat to your body.

You continue regardless, wiping your brow and dusting down the shelves with a lime green feather duster you found hidden in the kitchen cupboard. You wanted to do a good job but the library is extensive with wall-to-wall shelves filled with books ranging from present to pre-world war one and you’ll be damned if you’re cleaning each book one at a time; the feather duster will be your new best friend.

As you make your way toward the desk positioned in the centre of the room, a surge of curiosity washes over you, compelling you to indulge in a bit of snooping. The allure of uncovering secrets about the mansion and its mysterious owner, Soonyeol, proves irresistible, fueling your determination to explore further.

With cautious steps, you approach the desk, scanning its surface for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed documents. Your fingers itch with curiosity as you reach for the drawers, your heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. If there are any clues to be found, surely they would be nestled within the confines of this desk.

It’s ridiculous how exciting you find all of this like you’re in some James Bond movie about to uncover the deep secrets of the villain. It’s not that deep but you need to find some excitement in the quiet of this home, so why not make snooping around the fun part of your day?

Beside Jaeyun, of course. 

When Jaeyun is with you, you don’t pry into the mansion, scared that he will take it the wrong way, like you’re trying to expose the brothers and their minder.

Listen to yourself, Y/N. You’re worried about a doll’s feelings, you think to yourself and cringe. It’s concerning how much you don’t want to hurt the doll but that’s just the effect he has on you.

Your fingers wrap around the drawer handles, eagerness flowing through you as you prepare to reveal whatever mysteries may be hidden inside. You gently tug on the drawers, but to your dismay, they remain firmly closed, guarding their contents from prying eyes.

Frowning in frustration, you give the handles a harder shake, trying to remove whatever mechanism is keeping them locked. Despite your attempts, the drawers refuse to move, it's secrets tantalisingly out of reach.

“Shit,” you murmur, trying one more time.

Your gaze wanders over the desk, looking for any sign of a key or secret compartment that may lead to the contents of the drawers. Your pulse rushes with excitement as you dig through the desk, brushing your fingertips around the edges in search of a secret latch or trapdoor.

However, as you scan every inch of the desk, your search provides no results, leaving you feeling irritated and dissatisfied. There must be some way to get those drawers open, there’s no way if there wasn’t something secret inside, some form of incriminating evidence about Soonyeol, that she would keep them locked up. 

As you stand before the locked drawers, your mind flows with questions regarding Soonyeol's occupation and the mystery surrounding her actual identity. The mansion's vintage furnishings and rows of ancient porcelain dolls appear to point to a career in antique collecting, but an ongoing feeling of anxiety suggests darker possibilities. If she was a mere collector, how on earth did she manage to obtain four dolls who are alive? Is she just insanely clued up on possessed dolls and where to find them on eBay?

You look around the room to see if any pictures are hung suspiciously, all those nights of binge-watching Sherlock Holmes are coming in handy because you know now that pictures almost always hold either a safe or a taped-up key behind them.

You meticulously inspect each picture frame in the library, your eyes scanning for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed keys. You check portrait after portrait, your fingers tracing along the edges of each frame, but your efforts yield no results. Disappointment threatens to overwhelm you as you realise that your search has so far been fruitless.

Why is this proving to be so difficult? Surely there has to be something you can scope out, even a bobby pin would suffice at this point so you can pick at the locks.

Just as you're about to give up hope, your eyes fall upon an unusual floor-length portrait hanging inconspicuously on the far wall. It depicts the bizarre scene of a lamb with a human body, eating its sheep counterparts. It’s an unsettling fusion of outlandish and grotesque. You can't help but grimace at the tasteless decor choice, wondering what possessed Soonyeol to hang such a peculiar painting in her library. 

“Seriously? She is one fucked up lady,” you wince to yourself, wondering why she couldn’t just have a poster of some kittens or literally anything else.

Despite your feelings of unease, curiosity overcomes you, and you move forward to inspect the painting more closely. As you reach out to touch the frame, your fingers brush over the edge, and you notice that it seems there is a gap between it and the wall, as if there is something hidden behind it.

With your heart pumping from anticipation, you carefully pull the picture from the wall, exposing a dark wooden door that is concealed behind it. Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that this may be the breakthrough you've been waiting for. With shaky hands, you reach for the rusted doorknob and give it a cautious jiggle.

But just like the locked drawers, the door remains firmly sealed shut, thwarting your attempts to uncover its secrets. You groan out loud, tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in frustration. 

"What has a girl gotta do to find out what the fuck is going on in this place?" you mutter under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration and determination. You refuse to be deterred by this setback, knowing that you're not one to give up easily.

Gathering your resolve, you kneel down to inspect the door handle, your fingers tracing the contours of the keyhole with a sense of anticipation. You can feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on you, the tension in the air palpable as you prepare to uncover whatever secrets lie beyond this enigmatic door.

As you peer inside the keyhole, your breath catches in your throat, your eyes straining to penetrate the darkness that shrouds the room. Every fibre of your being is on high alert, a sense of anticipation tingling at the back of your mind. 

But then, just as you begin to make out the faintest hint of movement within the darkness, something catches your eye - a faint glimmer of red light flickering like a flame from within the depths of the keyhole. Your heart skips a beat as a surge of apprehension courses through you, a sense of foreboding tightening its grip on your chest. 

What is that? 

Your heartbeat quickens as you realise whatever it is, it’s not good and it’s trapped behind that door for a reason. You squint your eyes further, trying to focus on the faint shapes you can see throughout the room but it’s proving difficult, the red beam being your only sense of light.

Time appears to slow to a crawl as you watch the red light pulse and flutter, its intensity increasing with each passing moment. Your palms go sweaty in anticipation, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on edge as you brace yourself to find out what is behind the door.

Then, without warning, just as you go to reach for the handle once again, the red light bursts brightly, obscuring your eyes. With a startled scream, you stagger backwards and deck onto the hardwood floor, your heart beating as adrenaline rushes through your veins. The room swirls around you as you try to regain some form of direction, your senses overwhelmed by the abrupt blast of light and the overpowering feeling of dread that persists in the air.

“Fuck!” you manage to yell out and as your senses slowly return, you find yourself gasping for breath, the remnants of the red flame still burning brightly in your vision, creating white spots behind your eyelids. With trembling hands, you reach out to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest as your blood pumps nervously through your veins.

In a daze, you glance to your right, your gaze falls upon the portrait you had removed from the wall and it's changed - it is now portraying a human head with a sheeps body, eating it's mesty carcass, blood smeared over it's mouth and wool.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you quickly rush to replace it, your hands shaking as you fumble with the frame. Your heart feels as though it's about to burst from your chest as you struggle to hang the painting back in its rightful place.

Finally, with the portrait back on the wall, you step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to steady your racing heart and swallow the sick that rose from the pit of your stomach out of fear. 

But as you turn around, your heart jolts to a panicked stop in your chest as a new wave of terror washes over you. Sitting there, in the corner of the room where there was nothing before, is one of the dolls - Park Sunghoon, motionless and silent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are the last thing I need right now,” you say in frustration, pinching your eyes to extract the last few spots from your vision. It’s bad enough that you’ve just been blinded by god knows what, and now you’re being startled by Sunghoon’s sudden appearance.

Breathing out, you compose yourself and nod, “Okay, so I won’t be going near that door again,” you swallow thickly, trying to inject a laugh to lighten your heavy heart. Scouring around in Soonyeol’s drawers was one thing but you would rather be massacred by a hatchet at the hands of dear Sunghoon over there than find out whatever the fuck is behind that door.

As you regain your composure, a manic laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervous energy and relief bubbling to the surface. Sunghoon remains motionless, his expression unchanged, as if unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him.

You approach him with a mixture of curiosity, noticing the pair of frameless glasses perched on his face. It's a strange sight as you certainly didn’t put them on him this morning because why on earth would a doll need reading glasses?

"A fashion statement?" you quip, tapping the side of the lenses lightly. The failed joke eases some of the tension that still lingers in the air, and you find yourself chuckling softly as you take a seat on the table beside him.

Leaning in close, you lift Sunghoon's chin to meet your gaze, studying his features with fascination and admiration. Despite the unsettling circumstances, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of solace that washes over you as you take in his ethereal beauty.

His hair falls in soft waves around his face, his bangs framing his eyes in the most captivating way. His features are striking, from the delicate freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks to the sharp line of his jaw. Sunghoon's beauty is almost otherworldly, captivating you in a way that you can't quite explain.

"You'll protect me from whatever is in there, right?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood but Sunghoon sits mute and unmoving. You ponder if staying still like that hurts them or is uncomfortable; does it just come naturally? There are so many questions but after that ordeal, you’ll give up on prying for now.

You pat Sunghoon's cheek softly, smiling down at him before deciding to press on with your chores, hoping that the mundane tasks will help ease some of the weight from your shoulders and restore a sense of normalcy to your day.

With careful hands, you adjust Sunghoon's head to stare forward once more, a futile attempt to spare him any unnecessary discomfort - although you can't help but wonder if he's even capable of feeling pain. Setting him back in place, you make your way to the desk and retrieve your duster, ready to resume your duties.

Focusing your attention on the far side of the room, away from the ominous door, you begin to polish the ancient globe that sits near the entranceway. 

Spinning it idly, you sigh and think about all the places you want to see before you die. You’ve been stuck in this city your whole life only going as far as hopping from city to city and you are in dire need of some vacation time. Maybe it’s the red light that almost blinded you, but you’ve never felt more of an urge to pack up and go.

Maybe it’s just this place you need to get away from. 

But you’re stuck, something is keeping you here. Any normal person who saw what was behind that door would have run for the hills and never looked back, yet, despite the fear in your body that lingers deep inside, you don’t want to leave.

You’ve said this whole time it’s for the money but you could find work somewhere else, a job that wouldn’t give you chills in your bones. 

Once you’ve settled your nerves fully, you want to keep investigating this place and find out why Jaeyun and the other dolls are alive, and unfortunately for you, you have a sneaking suspicion that whatever is behind that door might just hold your answers. 

As you continue to clean, your eye is pulled to an object perched on one of the shelves: an old camera. Intrigued, you approach it, admiring its appearance with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. The camera's folding body, made of worn leather, emanates timeless beauty and carved nameplates on the side hint at its extensive past.

Upon closer inspection, you recognise it as a model from the 1940s or 1950s, similar to the Agifold your grandmother used to own. Memories of her beloved camera fill your thoughts, followed by a twinge of regret that you never got the opportunity to use it yourself. But now, with no one to stop you, an opportunity presents itself.

Gently, you pick it up and inspect it further, opening the back to see some film still lodged inside. You gently pick up the camera, its weight cooling in your hands. Opening the back panel, you uncover a roll of film that is still wedged inside.

Raising the camera to your eye, you adjust the focus and squint, searching for the perfect angle to capture the essence of the room. With a steady hand, you press the shutter button, the satisfying click echoing in the silence of the room.

Flash.

As you lower the camera from your eye, a satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your lips. But as your gaze sweeps across the room, a chill creeps down your spine, and the smile freezes on your face.

Something is…different.

You scour the room, your eyes darting from one corner to the next in an attempt to discern what has changed so abruptly. It feels as though the world shifted in the blink of an eye, leaving you disoriented and on edge. The familiar sights of the room offer little solace as you search for any sign of what could have caused the sudden disturbance.

The painting of the sheep still hangs on the wall, which means the door remains shut - good. The books on the shelves remain undisturbed, their spines aligned in neat rows. The windows are shut tight, allowing only a faint breeze to filter through the cracks in the draught. Everything appears to be as it was before, except for one glaring absence.

Sunghoon.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that the lifelike doll is no longer within your line of sight. He has vanished without a trace, leaving behind only an eerie emptiness in his wake.

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of his disappearance. Despite Jaeyun's assurances that his brothers are harmless, you cannot shake the feeling of unease that settles over you like a heavy fog. Even though Jaeyun is kind to you, the others may not share his benevolence. In a house filled with secrets and shadows, trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the slightest whisper of doubt. 

“You shouldn’t go around touching things that aren’t yours,” a hushed voice flows from behind you, taking advantage of your transfixed body to reach around your waist and take the camera from your trembling hands.

As he lets out a chuckle, Sunghoon moves around you with grace, returning the camera to its rightful place on the shelf. His towering presence now looms over you, casting a shadow that seems to swallow you whole.

Yet, you don’t feel threatened like you thought you would, somehow it was his lack of presence that put you on edge but now that he is standing before you, you know deep down you are in no harm. Your body relaxes a little, your spine finding its strength again as you straighten your posture.

Your movements amuse Sunghoon, his tongue running along his prominent canine as he smirks, “You don’t seem surprised?” he asks but it’s more of a statement than a question. He knows you must have already been in on their secret, “So was it Jaeyun? Did he spill like we thought he would?”

Jaeyun’s saddened face pops up into your head after your first time with him, begging you not to tell the others as they already see him as incompetent. The memory tickles your heart and you start to shake your head definitively, “No, I am shocked, look!” you say, bringing up your shaky hands to his eye level, a feeble attempt to convince Sunghoon.

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you question how I moved from my bedroom to the library without you carting me around in that fuck awful wheelchair?” Sunghoon queries, raising his eyebrow in mock suspicion. He knows you know, he’s just waiting for you to admit it.

“No, I…I just thought…I was…”

“You are a terrible liar, Y/N,” he scoffs out an endeared laugh and pushes your hand away from his face, “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as Sunghoon’s stare holds you captive, those beautiful glass eyes slowly dissolving your loyalty to Jaeyun. You are trying so hard to come up with an excuse as to how you know their secret but the doll before you is so alluring in his beauty that your brain might as well be replaced with a tin of mushy peas.

He licks his bottom lip and starts to laugh as your silence becomes his confirmation. 

“Shit,” you huff out, looking down, feeling bad for betraying Jaeyun like this. One tiny secret was all you had to keep and you’ve given it up without even uttering a word. Fuck these dolls and their power over your resolve.

Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief, “He really can’t keep his mouth shut,” he says to himself quietly, astonished that he even had any faith in the yapping puppy to begin with.

Your back goes up, eyebrows knitting together, “Hey! Don’t blame him like that,” you say defensively.

He halts his laughter and slowly looks at you, tilting his head, “Oh?...oh…” he mutters, a wide smile of bewilderment appearing on his face as he starts to piece you and Jaeyun’s relationship together, “How on earth did he manage to pull you? Did he give you a bat of his lashes and that signature pout? Did he make his eyes do that stupid sparkle? Hmm?”

You're taken aback by Sunghoon's accurate description, a mix of surprise and embarrassment colouring your expression. How did he know exactly what Jaeyun had done to win you over? Does Jaeyun do this with every housesitter?

Sunghoon watches your reaction with amusement, his grin widening as he sees the realisation dawn on you. "Ah, I see it now," he says, his voice tinged with playful mockery, "He's quite the charmer, isn't he? You know, he isn’t as innocent as he looks, he knows what he is doing."

You shift from one foot to another, looking down at your hands. It’s embarrassing for any woman to be hit with the truck of truth, especially when it’s about succumbing to a man, but a doll? That’s even more humbling. 

Lifting your chin, he gives you a smug smile as he sees inside your mind, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed, baby girl, Soonyeol is the same. She loves it - to look after him, coddle him whenever he wants, and give him kisses in passing,”  he leans down to make direct eye contact with you, a flash of something behind his iris’ brings you to attention as he continues, “That’s all that matters, isn’t it, that you have fun?”

You feel yourself nodding because he’s right. Inside of yourself, you knew Jaeyun was luring you into bed but you wanted it just as much as him, so did you really get played? And you enjoy his company, his constant telling of stories and his high energy, you’ve grown to cherish him with each passing conversation. 

Sunghoon observes the gears turning in your mind. "Can I tell you something?" he asks, his lips whispering over your cheek. You nod, permitting him to continue, your eyes fixed on his as he leans in closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear. "He's been unusually happy since you arrived," he murmurs softly, "I think you might be his new favourite person."

His admission causes a warm flush to spread across your cheeks, a mixture of surprise and delight flooding your senses. Knowing that Jaeyun feels a similar connection to you fills you with a sense of happiness and validation. You can envision Jaeyun becoming a lifelong friend, someone you cherish deeply.

While his initial intent might have been to charm you into fucking him, the time you've spent together since then feels genuine and sincere. You take comfort in knowing that Jaeyun values your companionship and enjoys your presence for more than just physical intimacy.

Sunghoon inhales sharply through his teeth, a disapproving tsk escaping him, "I don't think Soonyeol would be too pleased about that," he remarks, pulling back slightly as if considering the ramifications. "After all, Jaeyun is her favourite, and if she were to discover you've been fucking her precious little puppy..."

Your eyes widen in alarm as you grasp the implication of his words, shaking your head frantically as you instinctively raise your hands in a defensive gesture, "No, no, no, you can't tell her!" you exclaim, your voice tinged with desperation. You find yourself on the verge of pleading, almost dropping to your knees in a last-ditch effort to appeal to Sunghoon's mercy, "I need this job," you implore, your voice trembling with anxiety.

Sunghoon's lips curl into a sly smirk as he watches your panic-stricken reaction. "Well, I suppose I could keep my mouth shut..." he muses, drawing out the suspense and relishing in your apprehension.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hang on to his words, hope flickering within you at the possibility of him relenting. But just as quickly as your hope appears, it’s gone as you see the dark shimmer in his eyes behind his glasses, the way his tongue is sitting on the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

“You can’t be serious? You’re blackmailing me into having sex with you?” you retort, the revulsion evident in your tone.

"I'm not a creep, Y/N, I wouldn't do that," Sunghoon responds, a hint of offence lacing his words. As you meet his gaze, you feel a pang of regret for assuming the worst about him. But he lowers his voice, his eyes hooded as they lock onto yours. "I'd only fuck you if you wanted me to," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You find yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, a nervous habit forming as you bite your lip.

Sunghoon's hands find their way to your waist, drawing you closer until he’s pressed firmly against you. His nearness is intoxicating, and you can't help but tip-toe to etch closer to his face, craving more of his presence. His lips hover tantalisingly close to yours, teasing you with the promise of something more.

"Oh? Would you like that?" he asks smugly, his grip on your waist tightening as he effortlessly makes you melt under his touch, succumbing to him like putty in his hands. It's crazy how much power these dolls possess over you, their allure is irresistible and their influence undeniable.

His smug expression only adds to the internal chaos, making you feel both irritated and strangely drawn to him. You want this more than you would like to admit, perhaps it was the comfort he was bringing to you after your ordeal with the door, or maybe it’s because you’re an idiot that simply wants to fuck him.

Sometimes there is no other reason than pure lust.

Sunghoon's grin widens as he sees you surrender to him, his fingers dancing on your waist as he leans in even closer, closing the already minimal gap between your lips and before you can fully comprehend what's happening, his lips brush against yours in a teasingly soft caress. It's a fleeting touch, but it ignites a fire within you, awakening something.

You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are in this moment, how easily Sunghoon has managed to unravel your defences and ensnare you in his web of temptation. He is doing exactly what Jaeyun did to you last week, and just the same, you’re letting him because you want it.

"Tell me to stop," Sunghoon whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. His hands continue their gentle exploration, tracing the contours of your sides with a feather-light touch that sends tremors of pleasure coursing through your body.

It's a cruel temptation, the way he places the power in your hands, knowing full well that you won't utter that simple word; not when every caress feels like fire against your shivering skin.

Instead, you close the gap, your mouth melding against his as your once shaky hands now thread through his hair, pulling him further into you. You can feel his victorious smile against your lips as he guides you to sit on the very desk you were snooping around earlier, pressing your ass against the edge.

He briskly undoes your jean buttons, his lips planting one long kiss on yours before he sinks past your tits and stomach until he is on his knees in front of your pussy. Teasingly, he pulls down your bottoms, slowly but surely exposing your dampened core to him.

“There you are,” he mutters, placing a gentle peck on your pubic bone, his lips lingering there as he savours the moment. He looks up at you behind his glasses and smirks as he sees your chest rising and falling in anticipation, “I’ll make sure you feel good, baby girl, don’t worry.”

His smirk widens as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he trails kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Each touch is deliberate, calculated to elicit a response from you, and you can't help but arch your back in anticipation, silently urging him to continue.

With a soft sigh of contentment, Sunghoon grants your unspoken desires, his tongue delicately tracing the beginning of your slit. He flattens it against your tender flesh, savouring the taste of you as he lingers there, lost in the intoxicating sensation of your essence. 

You grind your hips onto his face and before you know it, you’re riding his face, using your hips to move your clit along his rigid tongue. Your fingers desperately seek to find refuge on a surface to steady you, which they find in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp to help anchor you.

Sunghoon is loving it as much as you are, the smile on his face is a testament to this. He pries your legs further apart to sink his mouth further into your heat, the tip of his wet muscle now working in tandem with your hips to help you out.

"F-fuck," you moan breathlessly, your body arching instinctively towards him as he spreads your folds between the fingers of his right hand. Anticipation courses through your veins as he teases you with soft, long licks, each stroke of his tongue sending waves cascading through your body.

You're consumed by both pleasure and longing, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his touch. Every lingering, deliberate swipe of his tongue against your clit makes it throb with need, and you find yourself clenching around nothing, yearning for more.

You want him to go faster, to get you to the edge quickly so he can fuck you against this desk, but at the same time, you're intoxicated by the slow, deliberate pace of his movements. He’s so good at this it’s almost awe-inspiring. 

Sunghoon's long fingers stroke up and down your folds with a delicate touch, savouring the sight of you spread open before him. But he needs more, he wants to see you completely exposed and at his mercy. With a determined gaze, he shifts your legs over his shoulders, positioning you firmly on the edge of the wooden desk.

"Your pussy is the closest to heaven I'll ever get," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your needy expression. Your whimper for attention to your clit only fuels his desire further, "I want to make you beg so bad, baby girl," he adds, his voice dripping with need, "but I don't want to wait to see what it feels like to have you cumming on my tongue."

The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it, your desire overriding any sense of restraint, "Please, Sunghoon," you moan, your hips instinctively thrusting towards him, begging for his touch.

He can't resist the temptation any longer. With a hunger that borders on desperation, Sunghoon spreads your folds open once again, his gaze fixated on you in this new position. He licks his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening wetness.

His tongue flicks over your hood, teasing your clit with quick, back-and-forth strokes that send electric shocks through your veins. You writhe beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensation of his touch as he expertly pushes you to the edge. 

Sunghoon’s glasses steam up as he switches between licking and sucking your clit, drawing out moans of pleasure from both of you. There is nothing he loves more than eating pussy, the feeling of someone’s sweetness on his tongue is the best feeling he’ll ever know, he could spend hours just worshipping each and every cunt on the planet.

But he knew from the moment you walked in, that he had to have just one taste of you.

“Sunghoon, fuck,” you moan through bated breaths, holding his head hostage between your legs - not that he minds, the desperation your exhibiting only heightens his desire to consume every part of you, to make you unravel under his touch.

Your back presses against the desk, the crumpled documents from Soonyeol's work forgotten beneath your squirming body. In this moment, nothing matters except the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.

Sensing that you're on the brink of orgasm, Sunghoon dips two of his fingers into your warm, inviting heat, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Sunghoon, yes," you scream, your voice filled with desperation and hunger as his fingers join his mouth to drive you wild. You're teetering on the verge of bliss, your body twitching with anticipation as he deftly guides you to the peaks of pleasure.

"That's it, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let go for me..."

As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, you cry out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of your release. Sunghoon watches you with a satisfied smile, his own desire burning brightly in his eyes. His fingers never let up, continuing to pump in and out of you as your climax washes over you, coating his hand and even spurting onto his face.

Standing up, Sunghoon keeps his digits buried deep inside you, still wriggling them around as he leans over your spent body on the desk. "If this is you with just my mouth and fingers," he says, pausing to give you a sweet kiss, "then just imagine you on my cock."

His words send a shiver of want down your spine, and you can't help but imagine the feeling of him buried deep inside you, filling you completely. The thought alone is enough to reignite the fire of desire within you, and you find yourself yearning for more of him, for the pleasure only he can provide.

Withdrawing his fingers from you, he brings them to his mouth, licking himself clean of your cum. The sight has you gasping, wishing his mouth was back on you, using that tongue just one more time. Sunghoon sees the need in your eyes and smiles cockily.

"You want a taste?" he asks, already offering his fingers to your parted lips. You eagerly accept, sucking and licking them clean, savouring the lingering taste of yourself on his skin. "You taste unreal, right?" he remarks, his voice husky with desire.

You nod, popping your mouth off his fingers, "How can you taste me if you've got no taste buds?" you ask, genuinely curious. There's still so much you don't know about these dolls, and each revelation only adds to your intrigue.

"Ah, we're all different makes. Some have functions others don't," Sunghoon explains as he begins to undress, leaving him in only his boxers and glasses.

"So you can taste? What can the others do?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

"You bored of me already, baby girl?" he teases, deflecting your question with a smirk. His hands grip the bottom of your t-shirt, and with a swift motion, he lifts it over your head, leaving you exposed and vulnerable on the desk, "The real question you should be asking is what else I can do."

You lie naked before him, anticipation palpable in your expression as you look him up and down, suddenly intrigued by the possibilities. "What can you do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, eager to discover the depths of pleasure he can offer.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

He pushes his boxers down, revealing his throbbing arousal. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, his length throbbing in his hands. Each time he pumps, the pulsing of the fake veins quickens. He presses his cock against your folds and you feel the pulse.

"Do you feel it?" Sunghoon asks, already knowing the answer as he watches you involuntarily move your hips, seeking more of the delicious friction his cock provides.

You nod eagerly, your desire mounting with each passing moment. The anticipation of what's to come sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you can't help but yearn for more of him.

You understand Soonyeol a lot more now.

Slowly, Sunghoon guides himself to your entrance to let you feel the throbbing more intensely as he begins to push inside you. The sensation is electrifying, sending your body into a flush as he fills you completely with his length.

Imagine if every man possessed this kind of touch; maybe, just maybe, there'd be less reason to complain. It's like slipping into a dream, feeling his hands explore every inch of you as he eases into a gentle rhythm of thrusting.

You find yourself lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. His movements synchronise with the rhythm of your heartbeat, building a crescendo of desire.

You can't help but draw comparisons to Jaeyun, though you don't mean to. Their approaches to pleasing you are starkly different. Jaeyun is fervent and eager, consumed by his own need for you. His passion is raw and primal, leaving you breathless and craving more, even as you revel in the intensity of his desire.

In contrast, Sunghoon's touch is confident and measured. Each thrust is a masterpiece of skill and intention, as if his sole purpose is to ensure you experience the pinnacle of pleasure. There's a depth to his movements, leaving you utterly captivated by the artistry of his fucking. He was born to do this.

Once he senses your body yielding to him, growing accustomed to the girth of his cock, he presses his hand firmly against your lower stomach, anchoring you to the desk as he intensifies his rhythm. His muscles tense with each powerful thrust, driving deeper into you with a primal urgency.

"God, you're tight," he remarks, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, "Are you sure Jaeyun's been fucking you?" he teases, his voice laced with playful arrogance as he revels in the control he holds over your pleasure.

As Sunghoon's words cut through the haze of pleasure, a pang of guilt tugs at your conscience. Despite the lust coursing through you, his casual dismissal of Jaeyun stirs conflicting emotions within you. Jaeyun may not be perfect, but he holds a place in your heart that you can't deny.

"I... I don't like when you talk about him like that," you manage to say between breaths, your voice wavering slightly. 

But that only makes him pound into you deeper as you cry out. Your hands reach for his arm as you grip it tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded as he fucks you with an intensity like never before.

Sunghoon's response is a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he drives into you with an almost punishing force, "You don't want me talking about your little puppy?" he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of lust and disdain. The sound of the drawers rattling beneath you only adds to the chaotic symphony of pleasure and pain enveloping you.

Your head swims with conflicting desires, torn between the familiar comfort of Jaeyun's touch and the intoxicating thrill of Sunghoon's dominance. And as his thumb finds its way to your clit, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body, you can't help but succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, surrendering yourself completely to the man who's determined to claim you as his own.

"I hit a nerve, huh?" Sunghoon's laughter rings out, a mixture of amusement and triumph lacing his words as he continues to tease your sensitive clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You try to form a coherent response, but all that escapes your lips are desperate moans and gasps as Sunghoon's relentless assault pushes you closer to the edge. Sensations overwhelm your senses, leaving you trembling and breathless in his grasp.

"What's the matter, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice drips with mock concern, his tone betraying his underlying satisfaction, "Did I touch a sore spot because you know I’m right? That pup could never fuck you this good, just admit it." His thumb circles your clit once more, sending a bolt of lightning up your body.

You bite back a whimper, your mind clouded with a mixture of arousal and frustration. The realisation dawns on you that you're caught in the middle of a rivalry, a competition between two men, each determined to outdo the other.

But amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, one thing becomes clear - in this moment, there is only Sunghoon, his touch, his dominance, consuming you completely.

As Sunghoon redoubles his efforts, fucking into you so good you think you might struggle to walk for a week, you find yourself surrendering to him; but as long as you’re getting fucked like this, who cares?

"Sunghoon," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice pleading yet smothered with arousal, "Please..."

He pauses, his movements slowing as he looks down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Please what, Y/N?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement, "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head frantically, unable to form a coherent response, "No," you whimper, your fingers clutching at the edge of the desk for support, "Fuck...don't stop."

A wicked grin spreads across Sunghoon's face as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "That's what I thought, baby girl.” He kisses you messily, his fingers circling your sensitive bud as he continues his pace.

Sunghoon's eyes latch on yours, a knowing grin on his lips as he awaits your release. The air crackles with eagerness, "You're almost there, aren't you, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice is deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his words stoke the fire inside you, "Just a little more..."

His words propel you over the brink, sending you spinning into oblivion as waves of ecstasy rush over you. You yell out his name, your body quivering with the intensity of your release as you surrender totally to the euphoria surging through you.

Sunghoon stares at you with dark, hungry eyes, his own release near as he continues to push into you with unwavering passion. He turns his thrusts from rapid to sharp, the vibration excruciating with each punch of the tip of his cock to your linings. He is so smug as you knock the lamp off the table by accident, too busy trying to escape the overstimulation you’re pussy is experiencing, but he holds you still.

"Give me just one more minute, baby girl, you can handle it, right?" he rasps, his voice thick with desire, eliciting a groan from you. He's moving with the intensity of an animal, overwhelming yet fucking satisfying.

His glasses teeter on the edge of his nose, moving by the force of his thrusts. With a swift motion, you snatch them from his face, placing them on your own and viewing him through a new lens. He's breathtakingly beautiful, with or without the glasses, but especially in this moment.

"Please, Hoonie, cum inside me," you plead, pushing the glasses to the tip of your nose. As Sunghoon takes in the sight of you, combined with your newfound nickname for him, he loses all semblance of control.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his release coating your insides as some spills onto the desk below. The vibrations from his cock cease, and he remains still inside you, his face buried in your neck as he trembles with the intensity of his climax.

Sunghoon's trembling subsides as he lifts his head from your neck, his eyes locking with yours in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, "You're incredible, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence, “I can’t let him have you to himself,” he admits, a smirk playing on his face.

You return his smile, your chest still heaving and your body buzzing with the aftermath of your shared passion. "He did mention that Soonyeol shares you all," you point out, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunghoon nods, his expression turning serious as he brushes a strand of damp hair away from your face. "True, but she doesn't exactly fuck us every day," he confesses, his voice low and husky with desire, mischief evident in his expression.

"We don't have to..." you begin, but Sunghoon cuts you off with a determined look.

"You're fucking mad if you think for a second I'm going to let any opportunity to have you slip away," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument, "I'll take you whenever and wherever I can, Y/N. That's a promise."

“Am I going to have to sort out a rota?” you joke, giggling as you begin to sit up, his cock slipping out of you with a soft pop.

Taking a tissue from the box laid on the desk, he wipes you down, something Jaeyun doesn’t do at all. But Jaeyun does cuddle which is something you can’t imagine Sunghoon doing. 

As he tosses the tissue into the waste basket and begins to get dressed, you watch him with a mixture of affection and anticipation. "Put me on the first shift tomorrow, yeah?" he requests, his voice tinged with eagerness.

You nod with a smile, already looking forward to the next time you'll be together. "Consider it done," you agree, a spark of excitement igniting within you at the prospect of what tomorrow might bring.

You hop off the desk and begin to put your clothes back on, satisfaction courses through your body, yet your mind remains unsettled. There’s one lingering question you hope Sunghoon can answer before he retreats back to his room.

“Hey, Hoonie?” you shout before he reaches the door to exit. He turns around and looks at you expectantly, “What’s behind that door?” It’s a loaded question but one you need answers. No amount of fucking can make you forget that spine-curling red light.

Sunghoon sighs, his steps retracing back to where you stand, his hands reaching for your face. You wonder what he's up to until you feel him peel off his glasses, giving them a quick clean before settling them back on his nose.

“Do me a favour?” he asks, his tone carrying a weight you can't ignore. You nod, hoping he'll grant your request for insight into the mystery beyond that door.

“I won’t tell Soonyeol about you fucking us if you agree to stop sticking your nose into matters that don't concern you, understood?” his words sting, his stare unwavering as he awaits your response. Whatever lies behind that door is a sensitive topic, only fueling your curiosity further.

There’s no denying you need this job though, so with a reluctant sigh, you nod in agreement, accepting the terms of his proposal, "Okay, Hoonie," you concede, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders, "You have a deal."

Sunghoon's lips curve into a small smile, a glimmer of appreciation shining in his eyes. "Good," he replies, his voice softening with approval. "Now, let's keep this between us, shall we? Jaeyun doesn’t even know and if Heeseung catches a whiff that you know about that thing, he will kill you before you can even attempt to find a key.”

His warning sits like vomit in your throat at the mention of Heeseung, the most mysterious one of them all. You don’t know enough about the cherry-haired doll to debunk whether Sunghoon is joking or not.

You offer him a solemn nod, a silent promise to uphold your end of the bargain. But what he doesn’t know is that as he leaves, you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #park sunghoon smut #enhypen fic #enha fic #; tdh #aj writes

[mountainsandmayhem]

God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller

Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader

18+ only!!!

Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.

CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.

AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.

And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.

Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.

You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”

You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.

You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.

Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.

You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.

Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.

He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.

She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.

His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.

She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.

He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.

She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.

And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.

He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.

He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.

His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.

Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.

X•X•X•X•X•X•X

Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.

Yep, I’m going for it.

You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.

The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.

“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”

“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.

Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.

You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.

“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.

You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.

“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no

And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear

King Jeremy the wicked

Oh, ruled his world”

Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.

“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.

You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.

You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.

“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”

Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.

“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.

He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”

You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.

“Joel -” you start.

“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.

“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.

“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.

“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.

You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.

“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”

Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.

“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”

“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.

He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”

“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.

“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.

“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.

“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.

“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.

“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”

“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”

Taglist

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #pedrohub #joel miller fanfiction #joel x oc #daddy joel #brat tamer or soft dom #dom!joel miller #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x oc #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you

[pomefioredove]

sorry if you dont do platonic/kid reader posts but could you do headcannons of the dormleaders with a younger teen yuu (13-14) who had a bad homelife before and they see him as their older brother? like they come to his room crying and asking him to hold them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! thank you and i love your work!! ^_^ <3

I very gladly do platonic and familial requests <3 I myself feel more platonic towards most of the characters ^_^

summary: housewardens adopting you as their younger sibling type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: platonic, yuu is gender neutral

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

believe it or not, Riddle is a pretty good brother

especially to someone from a home life similar to his

I suppose he recognizes it immediately; just sees pieces of himself in you

and I honestly believe he has a soft spot for younger people, even with his temperament

it's no secret that he favors you over everyone else

(even if he'd insist he treats everyone equally)

he lets you get away with things anyone else would be collared for

he pesters you about letting him help with your homework

you're invited to every Heartslabyul event

so on and so forth

and, much to everyone else's astonishment, he's always there for you to lean on

had bad day? failed an assignment? were being picked on? had a nightmare about your home?

well, that just can't do

he'll have you two freshly baked tarts and tea ready within minutes

and, of course, he'll gladly lend a hug if that's what you need

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

it's no secret that Leona's home life isn't exactly dreamy, either

and his relationship with his brother isn't ideal

in fact, the very idea of having another sibling- especially a younger one- used to make him cringe

but... okay, he'll admit that you're alright

what? he's not heartless

and he just can't stand to see you struggling like a prey animal

so, sure, he'll take you under his wing

just until you get on your feet, that is! don't expect any special treatment from him just because he was feeling generous today

he's basically no help with anything practical

homework to do? not his thing

boy/girl trouble? don't you have any friends you could ask?

he'll give out advice when you need it, but Leona's got this idea that you need to figure things out for yourself, too

it's his strange way of... raising you?

(don't ask him why. he'll just get annoyed)

but if there's one thing he's really good at, it's providing that much-needed physical comfort

in his eyes, all he has to do is lie there

and he'll gladly give you a hug or a cuddle if it'll wipe that mopey look off your face

(don't listen to him; he really does worry sometimes)

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

his first reaction to you and your closeness is "what do you want?"

not in a rude way, mind you; when you first meet, he sees you as an excellent business opportunity

after all, you're leagues behind everyone else in school matters; and he has a helping hand to offer.

at a price, of course

and then, as time goes on and it becomes more and more obvious that you're not looking for anything but company... well...

sure, you're all alone here

sure, you remind him way too much of himself at a younger age

but why is that his problem? haven't you heard what everyone else says about him? he's shady! untrustworthy!

and... oh, sevens. he just can't bring himself to turn you away

what was once a business venture turns into a friendship

best friend/brother Azul is insanely overprotective

even though he doesn't show it, he's constantly worrying; are the other students nice to you? are they including you? is everyone treating you fairly?

will send Jade and Floyd to keep an eye on you when he's extra anxious

it takes some time for him to adjust to the idea of you being able to take care of yourself

but, still...

he makes it clear that on those days, the ones where you feel like running and hiding from the world, his door is open

you can come hide with him, instead

free of charge, of course

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦

he adopts you immediately

literally just can't help himself; he sees you looking lost on your first day of classes and immediately takes you under his wing

Kalim already has a lot of younger siblings, he's used to this

anything you need, he's got it

hungry? he's already had snacks prepared

feeling homesick? he'll find you something to remind you of home

struggling with school? well... Jamil can help with that!

once word gets back to his family, they basically adopt you, too

no need to worry about having a home to go back to over breaks; his family has multiple!

he will never shut up about how great you are; literally introduces you to everyone as his younger sibling

treasures everything you give him and keeps it forever

and on your worst days, he's there for you then, too

as stated, Kalim has lots of younger siblings, he knows how it goes- and he makes a surprisingly good comforter

his hugs are always the best, too

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

Vil already has a sort of motherly thing going on for him

he may be strict, but he's nurturing above all

and much like Kalim, he takes you under his care right away

you're still young, after all- and he knows you're not emotionally mature enough to handle all the chaos of NRC on your own

plus... well, he wants to leave an impression on you

after all, the sooner you start good habits, the likelier they'll stick

(he already has your skincare regimen ready)

it's the least he can do to help... you always seem very stressed, don't you? he wonders why that is

but he never pushes for answers, of course

he makes sure you're well acquainted with everyone from the dorm, too, so that everyone can keep an eye out for you

being Vil's favorite has its perks; soon, you're well-liked by anyone from Pomefiore

and friendly with most of them, too

(just don't let Epel influence you too much)

and Vil is always there; he makes plenty of time in his week just to speak to you

he wants to make sure you're adjusting well, after all

and any problems you have, he'll deal with personally

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝

it's more likely that Ortho bonded with you and took you in first

after all, you're closer in age than anyone else at school

you may even share a few interests!

but, of course, Idia's initial reaction was No. "Ortho, you can't just pick up random kids off the side of the road,"

...so to speak.

but somehow, you keep ending up in his dorm room to hang out

he avoids you at first, but the longer you're around, the more accumulated he'll become

when it gets to the point where he's teaching you how to play all his favorite games, it's so over for him

he's fallen right into Ortho's trap

much like Azul, Idia is a liiiittle overprotective

he's had some less than ideal experiences with siblings, after all

so maybe he's a little bit of a helicopter mom

that is, constantly watching you because he's deathly worried something's going to happen to you

(it takes a lot of convincing from Ortho before he relaxes a little)

and, of course, his doors are always open

he'll even pause his game if you come in looking upset

he just can't focus when you're all sad like that, see? now come inside and tell him what's wrong before he starts overthinking and goes into anxiety mode

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚

Malleus has had enough experience with children. according to himself, anyway

he was somewhat of a brother to Silver, and holds Sebek in... a slightly similar regard

but somehow, you're completely different

for one; you're magicless, and thus can't defend yourself like everyone else can

for another; you come from a different world

and you seem very reluctant on sharing details about your past

which just confuses Malleus. are you worried he will judge you for not having any magical abilities? surely, you must trust him better than that?

it's really Lilia who's able to guess that you had a rough home life. just something about the way you conduct yourself- he's seen it before

he asks Malleus to be gentle with you, and not to pry too much

which he seems to accept

much like the aforementioned, he's a little overprotective

okay, a lot overprotective

he holds those he views as family very close to him, and you're no exception

you're invited to every Diasomnia event, Silver and Lilia pitch in on all your tutoring needs, and no one would dare mess with the beloved younger sibling of Malleus Draconia

although he still makes an effort to understand all of your emotional needs

he gladly accepts all hugs and cuddles, too

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #queued

[maraudersmyloves]

hii! i have a request i thought of a few days ago, fem!reader x slytherin boys (mainly mattheo riddle) where they noticed something wrong with her and she lies about it and mattheo says something along the line of “cut the bullshit”

CW: cussing, Angst, insecure reader, screaming, Arguing

You've been hanging out with the Slytherins less and less, not eating with them or hanging out at Blaise's Dorm after class.

That Fact alone wouldn't be unusual. It's exam Season after all and you often spend that time holed up in your Dorm, Studying and Eating what your Roommates bring you up.

The Problem occurs when you stop coming to Sunday Hangouts.

It's not an actual Agreement or anything, but it's become a Routine never broken.

Never.

No matter what's going on, on Sunday at around 9 PM you all meet at the Greenhouse.

Mattheo's always the first there and Tom's the last.

Pansy never figured out a certain time she would arrive while Draco always turns up at exactly 9:06:56

Down to the motherfucking Second

Blaise always brings a Book he doesn't read, Theo always forgets the Snacks he's supposed to bring and brings the sweets only he likes instead, while you always bring a Sketchbook.

It's 9:34 and you're not here.

You weren't there last week but Blaise convinced the others to talk about it Today.

Mattheo was stressing about talking with you and got into an all-time high of fights all week.

Now, you're not here.

Everyone is here

Except for you

It's pissing Mattheo off and at this point, the others are just as peeved

You are in your room crying

You know you should be at the Greenhouse rn, and doing anything else feels weird

The last 3 years you have spent every Sunday at the Greenhouse

For two weeks you haven't

The Slytherins loudly knock on your door and you quickly wipe away the tears, taking a few deep breaths to seem more collected

Mattheo sees your red eyes and is immediately worried although anger quickly overcomes him

Why didn't you tell him something was wrong?

God, why can you never just talk to him??

"Oh, hi guys!"

You force a smile but they see through it

"Wtf, y/n. Where have you been, what's going on???"

"I've just been studying, you know how i get"

"Cut the crap, wtf is actually going on?"

Blaise pulls him back a bit to not make you feel cornered

Theo steps forward, missing the point of Mattheo getting pulled back "We worry!! You can't just cut contact for two weeks. We excused you not coming to hang out last week but two times in a row?!"

"Calm down guys, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation to all of this, Right?" Pansy says, but the last words have some venom you didn't expect.

Not from her

Your best Friend

Hot tears fall from your eyes and Tom pulls Pansy to the side while Mattheo steps closer, his eyes filled with worry

"Mi Vida? Can I hug you?"

His Voice is soft and his open Arms look so inviting.

You want to step back and say no so badly when you remember the words that caused this, but you can't bring yourself to do so. Silently nodding

He wraps his arms around you in a matter of seconds pulling you as close as he can.

You can hear Blaise's annoyed voice talk the others into leaving you alone

He is the only one smart enough to realize how overwhelmed you are

One after the other they usher out

All with various amounts of Backtalk, while you and Mattheo stay still. Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Papers and Books scattered all around you, Mattheo buries his Head in your Neck.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong, baby?"

Pt. 2 with Backstory and more Angst?

#headcanon #fluff #writing #fanfic #harry potter #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys react #slytherin #slytherin boys x reader

[inkdrinkerworld]

Sorry I accidentally sent the ask before I finished😭 anyway I was saying Remus with a hyper-independent reader who’s very hesitant to let him help with anything because she’s not used to people offering to help her.

That's okay angel! I hope you enjoy <3

"No thank you, Rem." you say kindly, working around your boyfriend as you tidy up your apartment. You'd gotten a little sucked into work and then unpacking your groceries, and now your apartment is a little less tidy than you'd like.

"Dove," he doesn't take your rejection badly, but Remus would rather die than watch you do everything yourself. He's a tad dramatic sometimes, 'specially when it comes to you. "I can help you get everything done."

You feel your chest close up like a fist at his offer. It's not that you wouldn't love the help, it's just that you don't know how to accept it without feeling like something will go wrong.

You have this gnawing fear that the moment you let other people help or participate in things like this, you'll no longer be useful or things will crumble or they'll be done wrong- all the negative possibilities swim around in circles in your mind, your heart speeds up a little because of it. Plus, it's just tidying up, it's not rocket science.

"I know how you like everything put away, dove," Remus' hand rests on your shoulder now, effectively stopping you from moving for a bit. "Let me help? I can do this, and you can go take that bath you wanted to."

He can be wicked, your boyfriend, using his gentlest voice, and rubbing the curve of your shoulder with his thumb. He's a master at soothing you. At times you think he was made to do it.

You sigh, thinking about it for a good long moment before shaking your head. "I can do it myself."

Remus doesn't let you shake yourself from his hold, in fact, his hands trail to your wrist and tug you gently behind him as he makes for your steps.

He wants to guide you all the way to the bathroom, but that won't be too well received. So for now he's fine with staying in the tidiest part of the house.

"Remus, I have so much to do," you start but he just shakes his head.

"I know you do, and I know you can do it all by yourself," he turns to face you now, eyes soft and a kind of honey colour that makes him look so soft and comfortable that you have to actively stop yourself from leaning into him. "But I'm trying to tell you that it doesn't have to be just you doing it all alone. You can lean on me for a little bit."

Your eyes flit about his face, trying to syphon out any hint of the fact that he may not entirely mean what he's offering. When you find none, you nibble on your bottom lip, eyes still boring into his.

Remus stands up under the 'scrutiny,' letting you look him over as long as you like before he gives your fingers a squeeze. You know exactly what he means by it too.

"Okay, but if we do it, you can't be upset when I start being a bitch."

He only tuts, shaking his head. "You're not a bitch, you're particular." Remus kisses your cheek, smiling when he finds it a little hot under his lips. "And you don't need to show me, but if it'll help you feel better, start your teaching, baby dove."

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x black reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3

a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2

cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.

The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.

Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..

His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.

If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.

Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.

Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"

Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.

Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.

When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.

Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.

Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."

Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.

Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."

Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.

With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."

"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.

Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."

Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.

He can never let Eddie know that.

"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."

Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."

Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."

Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."

Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.

Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.

Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.

"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."

Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

Steve is running late.

It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.

Robin's always right.

Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.

For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.

Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.

Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.

Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.

Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.

Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.

It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.

"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.

"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.

"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."

Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.

Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.

It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.

Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.

With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.

Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.

He knows this is the best he's going to get.

"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."

Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"

Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."

Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."

Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.

He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.

"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.

Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"So I have a big question for you..."

Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.

"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."

Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"

Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"

Oh. "I already have a job."

It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."

"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."

Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."

Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."

He doesn't mean it.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls

@lingermirth

@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly

@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde

@s0ft-strawberries @slavicviking @theheadlessphilosopher

@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate

@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland

#guys really i swear there is a happy ending #ive gone full blown story now #yal hyped me up its your fault #also im so excited for the next part hehehe #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #ficlet #angst #hurt comfort #i wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) #ao3

[st4rgzer]

I looooved messy it was sooo fluff and cute!! Could you do a Spencer x reader where reader is also a teacher at the uni where Spence works and it’s like a meet cute because they were both told they could have the same room at the same time for their students to take a test and they’re both stubborn about it until one of them is like “fine I’ll let you have it if you take me out for coffee” ☺️🫶

mix-up (spencer reid)

summary: a small mix up leads you to meeting a rather intriguing person.

genre: fluff!

cw!: possible college inaccuracies..sorry!!

a/n: hi lovely! tysm for requesting, i hope you like how i wrote this. <3

you hurriedly walked through the college corridors, your glasses falling off the bridge of your nose as you struggled to adjust them with the tests in your hands. turns out printing the exams 2 hours before the test in a prestigious college wasn’t exactly the best idea.

your brows furrowed in confusion as you were met with half of your class sat on one side of the room, and someone else’s students on the other.

a tall man with wavy brown hair and curious brown eyes caught yours.

you walked down the stairs, placing the exams with a grunt on the table before turning to him.

“excuse me, i think you have the wrong room.” you said, trying to hold your own. intimidated by the, rather handsome, man standing before you.

“um…no, this is quantum mechanics, right?” he spoke clearly and confidently, which didn’t help with keeping your composure

“yes, but i have this hour reserved for an exam” you frowned, placing your hands on your hips. trying your best to appear convinced.

“well, i do as well.” he smiled, smug. he shrugged.

“guess we’ll have to share” he said dismissively, turning around to grab his exams.

you could’ve just ended it there…but you didn’t.

“no. i booked this room.” you said, with a sudden burst of confidence.

he turned back, appalled. he smiled before nodding. on a random day, with a random person, he would’ve just let it go. but for some reason, he felt intrigued by you.

“well this is an important test, we aren’t leaving to find another classroom” he declared, placing his hands in his pockets.

“is this going to be a problem?…” “-doctor spencer reid.” he grinned. nodding for you to continue

“okay, is this going to be a problem dr reid?” he liked the way you said his name. was he going to be the bigger person with nothing in exchange? of course not.

“fine, i’ll let you have it if you let me take you out for coffee” he finally said, watching your face attentively. he laughed slightly as you looked away in defeat, annoyed. a pink hue shading your cheeks.

“fine.” you mumbled, deciding the best way to save time and effort, was accepting his offer. no other reason why…

he smirked, turning around and grabbing the exam. he exited with his students (thankfully, there were few). you watched as he went out, wondering if he was really going to follow through with that offer, and wondering why you wanted him to do so.

“okay let’s start guys, sorry about that” you spoke to your students, handing out the papers.

after the class had finalized, you were left picking up your things and placing the exams in a folder. you were about to walk out of the room.

“hey! ready to head out?” an out of breath voice came toward you. he stood in front of you with his hands on his knees, regaining his breath before properly standing up.

“i- why are you so breathless?” you let out a breathy laugh.

“what if i saw its cause you took my breath away” he chuckled, his smile incredibly contagious.

you rolled your eyes, flattered. on the inside you were definitely not this casual about this.

“anyways, should we go?” he spoke again, hands gesturing to the exit in a gentleman-y manner.

you nodded, smile still confidently plastered on your face. incredibly thankful for your schedules clashing.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

[houseki-no-suffering]

Hey! I found a post of yours (specifically a phos analysis) from a looong while ago. Just curious to hear what your thoughts on the last chapters and the conclusion of the story are!

I recently finished the manga after putting it off for 4 years, and it was an incredible but such a bittersweet read. Maybe it's just me being a sucker for happy endings, but man, it really did not get happier </3

And you probably already know this, but did you know that Ichikawa released the last chapter the same day a comet flew by that looked exactly like the comet from the last chapter? Really cool stuff but I am emotionally destroyed haha

I suppose it was the only kind of happy ending HnK could have, and I don't think I mind it as much as other things that have happened in the last few chapters. It reads more HnK than anything that has happened in the past 1-2 years of serialization.

I appreciate the bittersweet notes (always have) and Ichikawa's words that this is how she wanted the story to end, it doesn't happen to every mangaka. Also, the comet bit is such a nice touch.

As for Phos (I suppose this is the post you meant?), I do believe that they got a happy ending.

If you think about it, instead of becoming a lunarian and being prayed away like the others, Phos' journey gave them the power and knowledge to rise above them. Thanks to their flaws (being brittle, having special inclusions, maybe being the most human of all the gems) they became human, the most flawed of creatures, and basically reverted to the purity of a child, a god, sin-less (even if this is a Buddhist story, so idk if I can actually speak of sin) and therefore free of everything that made humanity always dissatisfied, dangerous and unhappy. The others renounced existence, Phos found a way to reach paradise.

Humanity doesn't come out of this looking like a nice bunch of people to hang out with, and neither do the lunarians (gems included at this point). And yet, there's so much compassion in everything Phos does: a kind child, up until the very end.

I always speculated (and was not alone in this) that Phos' job would become to pray the lunarians/everyone away, find Cinnabar the job to kill them, become a Bodhisattva... in this, I believe, the story remained true to itself. What I believe no one saw coming was how shallow(?) it all seemed in the end.

Everyone came back, making Phos' sacrifices and suffering basically meaningless, everyone started getting along and solving centuries-old problems in seconds. Then, Ichikawa introduced so many new changes abruptly... It felt rushed, lazy and overly simple, when most of us loved HnK for its complexity and depth.

Maybe it was because Ichikawa wanted (or needed to) end the series with ch 108. Usually, when mangaka put a limit to the chapters they want to write, it really damages the story and I wasn't a fan of this even in this situation.

Aside from these issues, I appreciate how Ichikawa seemed to care about the character of Phos.

Maybe this all happened so that Phos could be happy, maybe this was the only possible way for Phos to be happy? It would be a little bit like in Devilman, where the world basically ends only so that Satan can understand love. Idk, little old Phos didn't seem that desperate a case, they just wanted truth, yes, this did cause some... issues, but other than that they're a sweetheart.

This is the leitmotif of the series, after all: Phos is a kind, selfless gem who cultivates a deep sense of self-hatred.

They internalize a pressure and a need to feel useful (coming from gem society) and turn them into a necessity for change (unlike in gem society). Initially, they want to find a job. Then, they want to help Cinnabar find a job, then they want to help Ventricosus, then then want to become a fighter, then they want to help sensei, then the gems, then the lunarians...

Contrary to most of the other gems, Phos loves and loves openly and unconditionally. They start off as a self-less creature who believes that their life isn't worth anything. Therefore, they put it on the line time and time again and, eventually, lose it time and time again as they change form.

It's their journey towards truth and happiness: they change and lose pieces of themselves, forget things, renounce gem-ness in favor of humanity and then humanity for god-hood.

Phos changes until they find the form that makes them happy. Their purest, happiest form. They change so much that they come back to square one almost: they become pure Phosphophyllite, with no inclusions at all. Still fragile, still small, but selfless and cheerful. Carefree.

In a sense, HnK ends with Phos becoming Phos.

#houseki no kuni #hnk #land of the lustrous #hnk spoilers #apologies ive only become wordier with the years #i think our mistake was to think that this story would deconstruct buddhist narratives while it catually did the opposite #ichikawa fooled us #also i would love to update that post about the timeline of the manga #i have a couple billion years to catch up with

[wosoimagines]

Ease Up

part 1 of rivals one-shots

a different look at breakfast one morning at camp.

904 words

set during part 3 of rivals

“Look, you need to ease up on the kid.” 

Hope, Carli, and Christie all looked up at Alyssa. It was clear to all three about who the goalie was talking about. Especially since Jo hadn’t come down to eat yet. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hope said as she turned back to her plate. 

Alyssa slammed her hands onto the table causing the others in the room to grow quiet and look over where the normally quiet goalie was standing. 

“I’m serious, Hope. Jo’s tearing herself apart,” Alyssa said as she leaned down closer to the table. She didn’t exactly need the whole team knowing about how Jo was struggling. “She’s putting the entire blame of the U-20 team not winning on herself.” 

“Good. It’ll be a wakeup call. If she’s not good enough for them, then she isn’t good enough for us.” 

Neither Carli nor Christie could have guessed that Alyssa would be the one to lunge toward Hope to pull her up by the front of her shirt. Hope immediately tried to shove Alyssa back, but Alyssa wasn’t going to let Hope be the reason that Jo ended her career early. 

“You’re gonna ease up on the kid,” Alyssa hissed as she ignored the countless arms trying to pull her away from Hope. “I swear, Hope, if you don’t make Jo realize that you were just being a dick to her, I’m the one you’ll have a problem with.” 

“Hey, what’s going on?” 

Alyssa nor Hope drew their eyes away from the other even with the added presence of their teammates. 

“Hey, Alyssa,” Christen said as she put a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder. “What’s going on?” 

“Hope’s being a dick to Jo and I’m not letting it stand anymore.” 

The rest of the room froze. Everyone was aware of how competitive Hope and Jo were with each other, but no one thought it was getting to the point where Alyssa, of all people, would snap at Hope. Becky, sure, but not Alyssa. 

“Jo’s putting all of the blame on herself about the loss in the finals and a lot of it is because of Hope. She thinks she has to prove herself to Hope even though Hope’s never been able to stop her,” Alyssa said. Hope reached out to try to shove Alyssa back again, but the other keeper kept herself planted. “She’s a kid, Hope. She should be worried about her friends and school and who she’s going to prom with, not trying to impress you so that you’ll finally accept her on the team. I’m not going to let her run herself into the ground trying to impress someone who’s being an ass to her.” 

“Alyssa, let go of Hope. Come on, let her go,” Christen said as she tried to pull the two keepers apart. “You can’t help Jo out if you get kicked off the team because you and Hope can’t get along.” 

Alyssa hesitated for a moment before she finally let go of Hope’s shirt. Hope immediately got closer to the other keeper. 

“Try that again-” 

“And what? Go ahead and try me, Hope. I’m not in the mood.” 

Christen moved to get in between the two keepers as others on the team also started to pull the two apart from each other. 

“Alyssa, drop it,” Christen said as she started to push Alyssa back.  

Christen waited until they were quite far away from where Hope had sat back down at the table before she stopped pushing Alyssa back. The others that had helped pull Alyssa back hesitated to move until Christen nodded at them. She was sure that she could handle it from here. 

Alyssa refused to meet Christen’s eyes as she ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t mean to lose her temper like that.  

“Want to tell me what that was all about?” 

Alyssa shook her head as she tried to figure out what to say to explain why she had reacted that way. 

“Jo spent three hours yesterday working on penalties because she has no confidence in herself and she thinks that we shouldn’t trust her either,” Alyssa said. She knew that if Jo didn’t get herself out of this mindset, then she would burn out before she could even get started. “She thinks she has to be perfect, Christen. None of us are perfect. And this is a kid who has a ton of potential but is going to hurt herself because she thinks she has to be perfect all of the time when she doesn’t.” 

Christen sighed because she knew what it was like to be one of the top prospects. It was a lot to have to carry and the fact that Jo was playing with the senior team at fifteen years old meant that she had an insane amount of pressure on her. Everyone was counting her out because of her age and not basing any of their opinions on how Jo played. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Christen said. Alyssa froze at that and looked up at Christen. “It might help to have someone who has been in a similar position to talk to her.” 

Alyssa nodded. If she and Becky hadn’t been able to get through to Jo, then maybe this was the next best thing. Alyssa just hoped that one of them would be able to get through to Jo before she hurt herself. 

#uswnt imagine #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines #uswnt #woso

[raapija]

hi! as a prompt for pookie au (which i love), how do you think carlos would react to finding out his dad is dating LANCE of all people? would he be immediately freaking out or would he hold it in and rant to charles about it later?

Thank you for the prompt. <3

(Carlos and Charles hadn't yet met, as this is set in 2018.)

summary: Lance talks with Carlos for the first time after Lance and Fernando told him they were dating. Also some strollonso fluff to balance it out.

warnings: some swearing, Carlos being extremely mean to Lance

Lance fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He could feel his ears burning as Carlos stared at him from the other side of the patio table. The cool evening air made his skin tingle.

"Why?" he heard Carlos ask after what had felt like 15 minutes of silence. Lance had sat down with him after having dinner with Fernando. It was the first time they told Carlos that they were together. Lando or Oscar probably would've blurted it out at some point, but it was definitely easier to tell him like this.

"What?" Lance asked for him to clarify what exactly he meant by 'why?.' He couldn't really look at Carlos, because he knew he was staring daggers back at him. They had been racing together for years, but had never really became friends or spent time together. Carlos was also a couple years older than him and had always been kind of intimidating to Lance. Something about those dark brown eyes.

"Why my dad? Of all people, why him?" Carlos continued his questioning. Now Lance looked at him and his heart skipped a few beats as he saw the expression on Carlos' face. Contempt.

"I love him."

Carlos scoffed and Lance felt something inside him shift. He straightened in his seat and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to give in.

"Listen," he started. "I really do like him. I know it's fucking weird that he's older and you're older than me, but so what? We like each other. It's not just some fling. He's done a lot for me and I for him. I love him."

Carlos studied him from across the table. The longer he didn't say anything, the faster Lance's heart beat. Adrenaline rushing in his veins as if he was on a race track, trying to overtake him at a high-speed corner. In the end, it was Carlos who averted his eyes to look away.

"If you break his heart, I'll kill you." Carlos said and Lance breathed out. His face was serious. "I've seen what it's like for him, and I don't want to see that again, ever. So don't you dare."

"I won't hurt him. I promise." Lance said and Carlos' eyes moved back to focus on him.

"You promise?" he chuckled, now sounding condescending. "That's what the last guy said as well. And then he left him."

Lance's heart was about to burst out of his chest. Maybe he couldn't overtake in the corner and instead would crash into the wall.

"My dad gave everything to me. He gave me a chance when no one else would. He doesn't deserve you. He's got all he needs in me and my brothers. He loves us. Not you. " Carlos said, his words cutting right through Lance like little knives. It made his throat turn dry. "You understand?"

"I do." Lance got out. Carlos' chair dragged painfully on the tile flooring of the patio when he stood up to leave. As he walked past Lance, he gave him a strong pat on the shoulder and made Lance flinch. Crashed, in the wall. Game over.

"I'll be watching you." Carlos said and then stepped back into the house, leaving him alone. Lance breathed out and a flood of emotions ran through him as he relaxed. He was 20. Just barely got into F1 and immediately started dating a 37 year-old with three grown kids. This really did sound like some sort of a breakdown if you looked at it from the outside. Still, he was glad the only person at his throat was Carlos and not the media. Only a few people knew, and that was for the best. He had enough on his plate as a 'pay-driver'.

¬

Later that night, Lance was laying in bed, deep under the covers and waiting for Fernando to join him. He had been in this bed countless times before, but the idea of Carlos lurking somewhere in the same house made him uneasy.

He could finally hear Fernando's familiar footsteps climbing up the staircase to the second floor where the bedroom was. As soon as he stepped into the room, Lance's mind stopped racing.

"You okay?" the Spaniard asked as he sat down on the other side of the bed from Lance. He must've sensed Lance's anxiety all the way from downstairs.

"Yeah. Talked to Carlos." Lance said and turned onto his side so he could see Fernando better. The older man laid his watch and jewelry from his wrists on the bedside table and the slid under the covers. They were both facing each other and Lance scooted a little closed so Fernando could wrap an arm around him.

"How it go? Not too scary, I hope." Fernando's voice was soothing and Lance settled against his chest, warm skin touching his forehead. He felt Fernando press little kisses into his hair on the top of his head.

"He only threatened to kill me, so not that bad." Lance said and Fernando laughed. Him laughing made it feel a bit better, like he wasn't actually going to get beat up if he made one mistake.

"That's my Carlito." Fernando hummed and squeezed Lance a little closer to him, slowly running his hand up and down his back. "Don't worry about him. He likes to pretend he's tougher than he is."

"He told me someone broke your heart before so he didn't want me to repeat that." Lance said and Fernando's hand stopped moving.

Lance heard a quiet 'oh...' and wriggled back a bit to look at him. Fernando's eyes were sad. Lance didn't like that.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no." Fernando hurried to stop him from apologizing. He moved his hand up and set it on Lance's cheek. "That's nothing. History. I got you now, so it's okay."

"Yeah?" Lance asked and Fernando gently tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear. The Spaniard smiled at him, his eyes back to normal and happy. The things Carlos had said still irked at the back of Lance's brain, but he didn't press on it.

"You fix me." Fernando said and moved in to kiss Lance on the forehead. He then pulled him close again and held his arm tight around him. "I talk with Carlito tomorrow. Tell him to be nice to you."

Lance hummed and could already feel himself falling asleep. It felt so safe with Fernando. Strong arms holding onto him and his warmth transferring into him. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

#ask #short fic #pookie au #nando and his mcnuggets #strollonso #hope you like this 🤧💚

[darkwolf989]

Can I request a girl dad Vox where his teenage daughter is going through her emo phase. at the same time going through puberty, and she's just at that stage where she's like "I hate you all" and it really hurts Vox because she's always been her little girl and maybe it ends with them making up and just being goofy like watching her favorite movies. Like super daddy's girl esk until then and his world just stops when she starts pulling away. I LOVE GIRL DAD VOX.

This was such a fun request! Thanks for sending!! <3

The attitude shift came overnight. Vox couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his daughter changed her nail polish from pink to black, or when she started to wear only the black pieces from her wardrobe. But he could absolutely remember the first time she snapped at him over a simple question. As she left the breakfast table and slammed the door shut behind her, Vox looked to Valentino and Velvette for guidance. 

“She’s growing up,” Velvette said through sips of her coffee. “Just be patient. Let her come to you and give her space.”

And so, Vox tried. I mean, honestly, he really did try. He let every snarky response, every too loud blast of music pass. Hell, the morning she woke up and poured herself a cup of coffee he almost blew a gasket. She was sixteen, she didn’t need coffee, he started to say, but Valentino cut him off and guided reader back to the kitchen. 

“Cream and sugar, little princessa, will help you get used to the taste,” Valentino said gently. 

Vox heard her mutter something he couldn’t quite make out but her tone certainly sounded rude. He stood up to scold her but Velvette grabbed his hand. 

“Pick your battles, Vox. This isn’t it.” Velvette said. “It’s only a phase.”

And so he gave her as much freedom as he felt he could while still being an active, involved parent. He kept on top of her grades and gave her the space she demanded and he thought for sure that respecting her privacy would get at least an “I love you Daddy,” on occasion. The most he got from her was a slightly less intense look of disdain every time he asked a question or a task of her. It seemed to him Daddy’s Little Girl was no longer. 

The hair dye was the final straw. Pretty brunette turned box dye black in a matter of hours. A bathroom splattered with splotches of black and a sink stained so badly Vox was sure it would never come out. Her beautiful brunette hair was now an odd shade of gray. He felt his anger grow as he saw the remnants of her activities and with a yell, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her downstairs to Velvelettes studio. 

“Where did you even get this?” Vox asked in frustration as he watched Velvette’s assistant try to scrub the stains from behind her ears. “And why? You had such pretty hair!”

“Why does it matter?” She snapped. “I can do what I want with my body. You can’t stop me.”

“I never said you couldn’t! But you have an entire salon two floors below your bedroom, why didn’t you just say something?” He asked in exasperation as Velvette walked over. 

“Because it’s my body! I just wanted to do something on my own for once without everything questioning me!” She screamed. 

And then she burst into tears. Vox could feel his heart breaking at the sound and pushed the assistant away as he pulled her into his arms. He expected her to push him away, but instead she leaned into his shoulder and cried.

“And now I’m ugly, and my hair sucks and I just, I just…” she let out a hiccuping sob. 

Vox recognized that noise. Even in her teenage years, that cry hadn’t changed. He pressed his hand to the back of her head gently, ignoring the leftover streaks of dye that stained his hands. 

“Hey, hey baby girl. It’s alright, Auntie Vel will get your hair fixed up,” he said as soothingly as he could. 

Velvette glanced up from behind the counter and took her place behind the chair. She gave Vox an encouraging look. 

Vox took a deep breath. Pick my battles, he thought to himself as he held his not so little girl anymore. 

“And I’m sure she’ll dye it black if that’s what you really want,” he conceded finally. 

Another sniffle from the face tucked into his shoulder. 

“Really, you’d let me do that?” She asked as she leaned back and rubbed at her eyes. 

“Only if you promise never to use box dye again,” he replied lightly. “The bathroom is a mess. We might have to repaint the entire thing.” 

She let out a ghost of a smile and he gently dabbed her eyes.

 “There there. No more tears. It’s okay.”

“Daddy? Can I ask you something?” She asked as Velvette quietly took her place behind the chair and began to work her way through the half brunette streaks of hair. 

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Can…can we redo my room? I don’t want it pink anymore.” She said softly. “Please don’t be mad.”

He could feel his heart breaking for the second time that day, this time for an entirely different reason. She thought he would be mad at her? He tried to think back to when she would get that idea and quickly concluded now wasn’t the best time to analyze his own behavior. Not when he had those pretty blue eyes watching him, waiting desperately for a response. 

“Sure baby girl,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead. “How about we get your hair fixed up and then you and I can do some shopping and redesign the whole thing together tonight? How’s that sound?” 

Her eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! Thank you, Dad!” She stood up from the chair threw her arms around him. 

Velvette gave Vox an approving smile.

“Alright then you two, let's get to work so you guys can go have some fun!” She said cheerfully. 

A few hours later, Vox watched as reader admired her reflection in the mirror. Somewhere, it pained him that she wanted to run so far in the opposite direction. He wondered what he had done to lose her trust.

“Don’t take it personally,” Velvette said softly to Vox as he watched reader run her fingers through her hair. “She’s just trying to find her place in the world.”

“What do I do about the bedroom? I can’t have it all black, it would look awful.” He replied, “but unless I give in…”

“Boundaries, Vox. It’s a reasonable give and take. Sure, painting her entire room back would look awful. And It’s okay to hold an expectation and come to a compromise. Some part of her still wants to know you care about her. She’s just testing her limits. All teenagers do.” Velvette added. “But I would start with designing together on one of you computers and go from there.”

Several hours, zero tears and one phone in pizza order later, Vox and reader sat on the couch. For the first time in a long time, reader was in hysterics as they watched her favorite movie together.

“Hey, Dad?” She asked once she collected herself enough to speak. “I love you.”

Vox tried to keep his cool, but his heart soared. “Love you too,” he replied. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your dad.”

#the vees #valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel #valentino #vox x reader #the vees x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #vox #voxval #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!!

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

#heart4gyu #violetsblog #sim jaeyun #jake sim #enhypen #kpop #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x you #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jake hard hours #jaeyun imagines #jake x reader #jake hard thoughts #jake smut

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 3 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt1 | pt 2

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: nate takes you shopping at the mall, to dinner, then bowling, before dropping you off at home.

— tags: having a great day with nate, even if he has ulterior motives

— tw: dollification, objectification, sexualization, emotional manipulation, pushing boundaries, guilt-tripping, drinking, eating

— word count: approx. 6.4k

— a/n: i have never been inside a nordstrom in my life, so i have 0 idea what their changing rooms actually look like. | baby-doll dresses | tennis skirt | blush | necklace

GIF by msgorillagripcoochie

Once you and Nate are on the road, he decides to offer you full access to his car's stereo once again—he has an aux cord stored away in the center console, which he'll only offer if you can't figure out how to pair your phone through bluetooth.

There's just something about the idea of his truck being saved in your phone that appeals to him. Hell, maybe he'll get lucky and you'll fuck up, letting it read your calls and texts, too. He wouldn't mind finding out who all you're talking to.

If he's lucky, it'll be people he knows. People he can spin stories to you about to get you to cut them out of your life.

He'd made the mistake with Maddy in letting her have friends. Like Cassie—he didn't need to list the problems she'd caused. Then there was Kat, always her enabling little sidekick. Even Lexi to an extent, who he knows you're also friends with. He supposes as far as female friends to have goes, Lexi is the better one to keep company with, but she's still Cassie's sister.

He knows he'll, in time, need to figure out a way to get rid of her. But that's a problem for future him.

"Would you like to play some music?"

You smooth out the skirt of your dress. "Sure. Do you have a uh-"

"It has bluetooth."

"Oh."

Great, you think, I get to spend the next fifteen minutes looking like an idiot as I fight to get the thing to pair with my cell.

Surprisingly, however, you get it to sync up rather quickly. You scan through your music, now sweating, wondering what song to choose. What if he thinks your taste in music is stupid? Then, you mentally shrug. He can take over at that point if he thinks so.

Eventually, a soft melody begins to drift through the cabin, low enough that it serves simply as pleasant background noise, until Nate reaches over, turning the volume up, making you shrink back in your seat.

You turn the room a shade heaven, and learn my name.

You flush. You shouldn't have chosen a stupid romantic song. You should've chosen anything else.

You look out the window, refusing to sing along like you normally would as the chorus starts.

No one ever will love me better than your everlasting love. I found only one way in and no way out...

You fold your hands in your lap, waiting for the damn song to eventually end.

Finally, once the tempo has faded, Nate turns the radio down.

"Is that one of your favorite songs?"

You glance at him, nodding.

He can tell you're embarrassed, but can't understand why. He thinks it sweet: one of your favorite songs being one about love.

He then wonders if you sing. Perhaps, if so, you'll do so once you're more comfortable being around him like this.

"I liked it."

"Oh, good," you say, still flushed.

He likes how easily he has that effect on you.

"So, where are you wanting to head to?"

You shrug, fumbling with your phone and turning some lofi music on instead now. Nothing with lyrics.

"Wherever you want to go is fine with me."

He likes that: you letting him choose for you. Letting him make a decision for the both of you.

He enjoys how easily agreeable you are today.

He hopes it's due to you feeling comfortable enough with him that you trust him to do so.

"Do you want to eat first, or would you like to go to the mall for a bit?"

You glance at the clock and see that it's only a few minutes past four. "I can wait a couple more hours to eat."

He nods, heading in the direction of the East Highland mall.

Once Nate has parked, he comes around to your side and you nearly slip on the running board, falling against his chest.

He catches you, helping you down.

You look up at him, your face a shade of red. "Sorry. Thanks."

Stupid klutz—should've worn boots, you think.

He shuts the door behind you, quickly locking the vehicle before placing his hand against the small of your back. "No problem."

As you enter the mall, a pair of men leave, glancing at you. Admiring you, from Nate's perspective.

His grip tightens imperceptibly, pulling you the least bit closer to him as he gives the men a nasty look.

Meanwhile, you're oblivious, instead overwhelmed by the sights and sounds and smells, the awful florescent lighting overhead. God, you hate crowds.

You look up to him, just wanting him to pick a store to get you out of the way of everyone milling about. Coming here on a Friday afternoon was a bad idea.

He looks down at you. "Where to first?"

He can see that you're nervous. His brows furrow. "Do crowds make you uneasy?"

You nod, your eyes staring into his, practically screaming for him to get you out of here.

He lets his hand drop to his side, then speaks again. "Do you want to hold my hand?"

You blanch.

Having something—someone—to ground you and lead you through the throngs of people surrounding you sounds nice enough, but what if someone from school is here and sees you? And won't it seem a bit childish? That you're that easily overstimulated that you have to hold another grown-person's hand in a shopping mall?

Just as you're about to tell him no—that you're ok—someone bumps into you, shoving you into his side.

Your hand quickly latches onto his.

Nate twines his fingers between yours.

You don't see the smirk on his face.

Nate leads you into Nordstrom, a store you've never been in before because you know it's far, far out of your price-range, but you don't object as you step inside, the crowds behind you fading away as quiet pop music plays overhead, only a handful of people browsing the racks of clothing.

You look up to him, suddenly unsure of yourself.

"You can look around, if you want."

You release his hand and he already hates the feeling of his palm being empty.

You step over to a rack of midi dresses and your eyes widen when you see a price tag for $120.

Nate keeps close to your side. "Do you like that one?"

He knows he doesn't—hates midi and maxi dresses—but he wants to buy you something today. Anything. He just wants to give you your first real present from him.

He doesn't count him bringing you breakfast everyday for the last week—despite your objections, even if you did always finish it with a grateful 'thank you'—as as much.

You place the dress back where it was hanging, shaking your head. You look up to him. "That dress it over one-hundred dollars. Nate, I can't afford to shop here."

Not unless they have a clearance section, you think. But even then...

Nate steps away from you for a moment, his attention now stolen away by a white babydoll dress with puffy sleeves. Fucking perfect, he thinks.

He grabs it off the high hook which it hangs from—something you'd never be able to reach—and goes to hand it to you.

"Try this on."

You hesitantly take it from him, a confused expression on your face. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I just think it'd look nice on you."

You hold it up to yourself, not liking that it comes up well-above your knees.

"I don't thi-"

"The changing rooms are this way," he says, nodding his head in the direction of the back of the store. He doesn't care to hear you argue. You're trying the dress on. He needs to see it on you.

He'd been picturing you wearing—essentially—that exact dress for over a week now.

He places his palm against your back, leading you to the desired destination.

Once you've reached the back of the store, Nate opens a wooden door to one of the changing areas and just stares at you, waiting for you to enter.

Finally, you sigh, stepping in.

"I'll be waiting right out here," he says before closing the door behind you.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, realizing just how different—how little—you look like yourself right now. But you consider it, perhaps, a good thing: forcing yourself out of your comfort zone, even just a little.

You'd been considering finally wearing the sundress that Nate had picked out for you for a few weeks now. It was nice of him to compliment it—you. You aren't entirely sure how you feel about your hair being down, however.

Finally, you hang the dress up that he'd handed you, deciding to get undressed. The sooner you've tried it on, the sooner you can be out of this over-priced boutique.

Nate sits in a chair directly outside of your changing room, watching your legs shift from one foot to the other, until, finally, your sundress pools at your feet.

His cock hardens, knowing just a few feet away is your half-naked body. He leans back, waiting a minute, then two, then he stands.

He gently knocks on the door and you jolt in surprise.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you have it on?"

"Yes..."

"May I come in? I'd like to see."

You balk. He wants to come into the changing room with you? Is that even allowed?

"Isn't that against some sort of policy?"

He likes how much of a good girl you are—no, fuck it, loves it—but in this moment his patience is wearing real fucking thin. "No one else is out here," he replies as gently as he can.

A beat of silence, and then the lock on the door handle clicks.

He quickly enters the changing room, promptly taking in every inch of you.

You look just how he had imagined you would.

You don't meet his eyes. "I look so stu-"

"Perfect," he interrupts.

You look up to him. "What? Really?"

He studies you for a moment, your wide innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to answer.

He runs his fingers through the hair draped over your shoulder. He then runs his hand along that same shoulder down your upper arm, where it comes to rest. "Yes. I just wish you could see what I do."

You blink up at him, then sniffle.

"Are you crying?" He nearly cringes. That question had come out a bit more harsh than he'd meant for it to. He'd wanted you emotionally vulnerable numerous times for the last week so he could finally find a way in, and now here it is. He prays he didn't just fuck it up.

You nod. "I'm sorry. I'm just...no one has ever been this nice to me."

He almost breathes a sigh of relief. He hadn't hurt your feelings.

So that's all it's going to take with you: a few kind gestures, some nice words, a few soft touches, and you'd be like putty in his hands. His to mold as he pleases.

This was what being alone for so long had done to you: made you desperate for affection—of any kind.

You step a bit closer to him, unsure of yourself, unsure what you're doing or even why.

When he doesn't move, you press yourself against his broad chest, taking him completely by surprise.

Fine with being alone his ass. That entire statement had been utter bullshit. Not even you understand just how lonely you are.

Finally, he wraps one arm around you, holding you close, his other hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp.

You remain quiet, just focusing on his breathing, the beat of his heart, his warmth. When was the last time someone had held you like this? Hugged you? Shown you any form of affection or attention?

You'd truly thought you were fine without it.

Meanwhile, Nate's head is racing. God, you'd shown him just in this action alone just how easy it was going to be to manipulate you. A couple of compliments had nearly brought you to tears? Just wait until the two of you are in a relationship. No, starting tonight he'll begin pouring it on heavier.

But once you two are together? He'll fucking suffocate you with gifts and attention and love. And above all: sex. That will be his weapon. You're inexperienced. Know nothing about it. A few orgasm denials and Lexi will be long-gone from your life.

Then he'll no longer have to worry about the risk of her relaying stories of he and Cassie, or he and Maddy to you. Won't have to worry about his occasional shitty behavior toward them coming to light, driving—no, taking—you away from him.

If you ever find out about the choking incident...it'll be over before it ever begins.

He feels you snuggle the least bit closer to him and he briefly glances to the mirror to the side of both of you. He sees that your eyes are closed and your cheeks are flushed.

Finally, he pulls away and you look up at him, shame filling your features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I-"

He gently grips your chin. "I didn't mind."

"Oh." It's the only reply you have. It feels inappropriate—being here with him like this. You're in a changing room together, for God's sake. You'd tutored numerous people before and never had you ever spent any amount of time with any of them outside of school.

But Nate is different. You tutor him in private, whereas all the rest had been at school or in public. There'd never been a chance at friendship with any of them. You'd convinced yourself that it was something you didn't need in the first place anyway. Told yourself you were better off alone.

High school is temporary, along with the friends that come with it. No point in getting attached to someone who won't be sticking around.

You know all too well about abandonment.

Nate will probably be just like all the rest.

You take a step back. "I should probably change."

"I never got to see the whole dress. Can you turn for me?"

You pause. "Like... Twirl?"

He crosses his arms, just staring at you.

Finally, you begin to slowly turn until you're facing him once again. "Ta-da,"you say nervously.

He turns toward the door, placing his hand over the handle. "It looks really cute on you, just so you know."

While you're busy changing, Nate quickly returns to the rack from earlier, grabbing the same dress you were currently taking off, along with another one, but in light blue. He then spots a pink tennis skirt and grabs it as well, with a matching flowy top. He takes all the items up front, to a register.

When you exit the changing room, you see Nate straight ahead, standing just outside the store.

You come up to him, glancing down to the shopping bag in his hand, then up to him with a concerned impression. Surely he didn't...

He shrugs. "Just something for my mom."

You smile, feeling relieved. "That's very sweet of you, to get something for her."

He just offers you his hand again, which you take after a moment.

As the two of you wander around, mostly window-shopping, you try to ignore just how nice it feels to be holding someone else's hand. To be touched at all. You briefly wonder if he thinks you pathetic now, after what happened in the changing room.

You glance up to him. "Nate?"

"Hm?"

"You're sure it didn't bother you?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate to know what you're referring to. He likes that you're insecure and emotionally fragile. Broken pieces in the palms of his hands.

That had been another issue with Maddy—she'd been too independent, too confident, too secure and comfortable with herself. Whereas Cassie had known what he wanted and had tried to mold herself into it, all in some attempt to keep him interested.

But you? You're clueless to the ways of men. You're just...you. Intelligent, book only in a book-smart sort of way. Sweet—so fucking sweet it makes his teeth ache. Quiet, and reserved—prim and proper and meek.

And he'd thought it before and would again—so. fucking. innocent. You have no idea the power you already have over him. And he wants it to stay that way. Wants to be the one in complete control this time around, without being given permission to be, like Cassie had given him.

She'd told him what she had wanted: him to choose her clothes, what she eats, to decide who she could talk to—the list went on and on. Because she had clocked him from day one—the type of guy he was—that he was desperate for control.

With you, it will be gradual, insidious manipulation until he's all you have left in your life to turn to. Until, one day, you look up, and everything is different and you have no goddamn idea how you've gotten to where you are.

He stops walking, still keeping your hand firmly in his, incase you decide to wander. "Not at all."

"I don't..." you shift nervously. "I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like that. I don't get emotional in front of other people, like, ever."

He gives you a kind smile. "It's ok, really. I just don't think you're used to it."

"What?"

"Kindness. Someone wanting to give you their attention and time. You don't have to worry, I still like hanging out with you."

You look down and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Good," you reply.

The two of you stop in at Sephora, and while you browse their lipglosses, Nate steps away, looking through their selection of blushes, until he finds a soft pink shade that he likes and he takes it up, quickly paying for it, and placing the small bag within the larger Nordstrom one. One more gift for you.

When you leave the cosmetic store, you excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes into the Tiffany store next door, browsing their necklace collection, until he spots one that he deems perfect for you: silver, with a small diamond pendant hanging from it. He doesn't even bother looking at the price tag when he asks an employee to retrieve the item from a glass case and box it up for him.

He's waiting for you when you exit the restroom.

He takes your hand in his, not bothering to let you make the gesture this time.

"Hungry?"

You nod.

Nate, though he doesn't want to, bothers with asking where you'd like to go to eat as he watches you buckle yourself in—wishing you'd let him do that himself, but knows him taking such an extreme measure for your safety this early will do nothing more than freak you out.

You shrug. "I don't go out much, so I'm not sure what all is around here. You can choose, if you'd like?"

He smiles, unsure the last time he felt so happy and in-control as he shuts your door.

Nate takes you to a rather expensive bistro, perhaps twenty minutes away from the mall, his right hand itching to wedge itself between your bare thighs as he drives, but he doesn't dare touch you. Not yet. The only thing he has to keep himself in-check right now is the surety that, soon enough, you'll be all his to do with as he pleases.

Every inch of you.

When Nate comes around to your side of the truck, after he's opened your door, he takes things a step further this time, gripping both of your hips, helping you down. As he sets you on your feet again, before you can say a word, he speaks. "Didn't want to risk you tripping again."

He adjusts your dress and your hair, then takes your hand firmly in his as he leads the two of you inside.

You immediately feel regret in him bringing you here. You should've told him literally anywhere else, so long as it was cheaper.

The rustic décor alone screams pretentious. And you know the menu will be even worse.

But just as you think to tug on his arm and ask him to take you elsewhere, a hostess greets the two of you, leading you to a table in a corner near a window.

Nate pulls out your seat for you, scooting you in, then seating himself.

You both pick up menus, and you're thankful your face is hidden by yours when you see the outrageous pricing.

You can barely afford a small salad here.

"Have you been here before?" You ask, still hidden by your menu.

"Mhm, their food is pretty good. I thought you might like it."

Unless it's dipped in gold, it can't be worth what they're charging is what you want to say. Instead, you remain silent.

Finally, your server arrives. An older woman, with red curly hair, freckles, and a curvaceous figure greets the two of you with a smile. "Do you two know what you'd like to drink?"

Nate looks at you.

"Water, thank you."

She nods.

"It'll be one check, and a diet coke."

She nods again, leaving the two of you to each other.

You look at him, now panicking...just a bit. "You don't have to pay for me. It's fine, really, I-"

He lifts his menu, glad that it apparently works in getting you to be quiet about his spending money on you. Again.

You'd already freaked out enough over him bringing you breakfast for three days in a row, until the fourth when you finally ate in silence.

"I told you I was taking you to dinner. It was my idea to bring you here, so it's only fair that I pay."

You cross your legs at the ankle, unsure how to feel about that.

You simply lift your menu again, now even more unsure of what to get.

He sets his menu down, seeing that you're now hidden behind your own once again. "I know their choices can seem a bit overwhelming the first time you come here. Would you like me to order for you?"

You lower your menu. "You're sure?"

He gives a slight nod of confirmation.

It's then that your waitress returns with your drinks and you stay silent, sipping on ice water as Nate orders dinner for both of you.

As you wait for your penne alla vodka—all you know is that it's some sort of pasta—Nate stretches out his long legs under the table on either side of your chair.

"I've had a really nice time with you today," he says, a soft look in his eyes.

You wrap your sweaty hands around your cold glass. You smile. "Me too."

He crooks his head slightly to the side. "Would you like to go bowling after this?"

Your brows raise. "You want to?"

He nods. "I do if you do."

You glance out the window for a moment. "I'm not sure the last time I went bowling. I think when I was really little."

He leans forward, foot brushing against one of yours completely on purpose, so as to pull your attention back to him. "So is that a yes?"

You blush. "I guess so."

Nate glances up to you every few moments from his steak and rice, watching as you take small bites of your pasta.

"Do you like it?"

You quickly grab your napkin, wiping your lips. You nod, swallowing. "It's really good. You chose well for me. Thank you."

He smiles, his foot "accidentally" brushing against your leg again. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

You grow quiet again at the pet name, taking another bite of your meal.

Once the two of you have finished your dinner, Nate pays the check from his phone before standing, throwing two twenty-dollar bills on the table—you're impressed that he tips so generously—then pulling your chair out for you.

He twines his fingers between yours before leading you back out to the truck.

Once Nate has paid for a game of bowling for the two of you, you both go to your designated spot. You sit to put on the pair of hideous bowling shoes you've been given, until Nate sits on the small table in front of you, grabbing your foot and resting it atop his knee as he slips the shoe on your foot, tying the laces.

You laugh nervously. "I can do that."

He merely glances up to you, before doing the same with your other foot.

Once you feel well and truly like you have on a pair of clown shoes, you go first...and miss every single pin.

Nate stands behind you laughing. "It was a good try."

He'd not actually bothered watching you play, he'd instead watched as you'd bended over slightly, getting a brief flash of your pink panties before you released the heavy bowling ball.

You go to sit down. "Shut up," you say, clearly embarrassed.

Nate goes next...and of course gets a strike on the first try.

You tell yourself not to pout; that you're not a competitive person by nature.

"I'm just rusty is all."

"Mhm," he replies with a knowing smirk before leaning down, hands planted on either side of you. "I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?"

You glance behind you at the concessions, looking over their menu. Meanwhile, Nate looks you over. Your neck, which he wants to lick and kiss and leave hickies all over to mark you as his. Then down your dress at the swell of your breasts...which he wants to do the same to. Then your thighs that he wants to shove his face between.

When you finally look back at him, you jump, seeing that he's still looking right at you. "Oh, uh, maybe just a water?"

He reaches up, brushing some hair out of your face. "Not hungry?"

You shake your head. "I'm still full from dinner."

Right. Dinner.

"I thought at least some cotton candy," he replies, before walking away.

You're left sitting there, wondering what that was supposed to have meant.

When Nate returns, it's with two Budweisers and a bottle of water, which he hands to you.

You stare at the extra bottle he sets on the table as he twists the top off of the other one, taking a swig of it.

"Is that smart?"

He looks at you with a raised brow. "Hm?"

"Drinking...since you're driving?"

He smirks. "It takes a lot more than two beers to get me drunk, Y/N. But if it makes you that uncomfortable, you can always drive us back."

He's not sure how he feels about letting you drive his truck, in truth. He'd never let Maddy, and sure as hell not Cassie behind the wheel. He was more-so offering to see if you'd let on whether you know how to drive or not.

And he gets his answer, just like he was wanting.

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

He sits on the same table from earlier, your legs between both of his knees.

"Not at all?"

You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed of the admittance. "No one has ever exactly been around to teach me."

You're no longer looking at him now, so you don't see the frown on his lips.

"I could teach you."

Your head jerks up. "That's probably not a good idea."

He takes another sip of his beer. "Why not?"

"What if...what if I hit something with your truck, or damage it?"

"I have insurance."

You nearly roll your eyes. "Ok, what if I hit a person?"

He notices your lip twitch, trying to fight a smile.

He grins. "It has a big bed."

You laugh and so does he. God, being with you is so easy.

He holds out the bottle to you. "Do you want a drink?"

You consider it for a moment, then of course shake your head. "No, thank you."

"Have you ever even drank before?"

You don't want to give him the answer to that either. "No."

"Really?" He asks, a bit of surprise to his tone—even if he isn't actually surprised at all. If it's 'bad' for you, he's sure you've never done it before.

You nod, feeling like a total fucking square. "How did they even give it to you in the first place?"

He stands, briefly removing his wallet from his back pocket and he hands you his fake ID.

"Oh."

"I can get you one made, if you want?"

You shake your head, handing it back to him. "I'm ok."

He likes you innocent and unknowing, but he isn't used to someone being so...within the lines. He can't tell whether he wants to corrupt you or not. Perhaps he'll just start with doing so in bed and go from there when the time comes.

Once he has you daydreaming about his cock, he'll move onto bigger targets.

He puts his wallet back away, then jerks his head back toward the bowling alley. "Your turn, sweetheart."

Halfway through the game, you get your first strike and you squeal in delight, causing a smile to breakout across Nate's face.

You jump up and down, then run toward him and he catches you in his arms just in time as you wrap your legs around his waist, only spilling a little of his beer. "I did it!"

He laughs, loving seeing you so fucking happy for just one moment.

"I see that, baby."

You're so pleased with yourself that you barely even catch the new term-of-endearment he's given you.

You look down at him, your hair falling over his face as he looks up at you. "Sorry, that was exciting," you say with a laugh.

One arm firmly holds you up, under you bottom, while the other comes up to cup your cheek. "I like seeing you happy like this. You don't smile nearly enough."

He should really make more of an effort to get you drunk before the two of you leave. He has a feeling you're a happy one, and if he's extra lucky—all the alcohol will go straight between your legs.

You beam at him again, trying to prove him wrong, and all he wants is to kiss you until you can't breathe.

Finally, he lowers you back to your feet and you sit, now excited, as he takes his turn again.

You skip through the parking lot, your hand in his, completely elated at having won.

And to your knowledge, it was fair and square.

Even if Nate knows otherwise.

He'd offered to buy another game, but you'd told him you were starting to get tired, so he'd agreed to take you home, even if he wanted to stay out with you all night. Preferably in the back seat of his truck with your clothes off and lying underneath him as he explores your soft, sensitive body.

Instead, you sit in the passenger seat, all smiles and giggles as he drives you back home.

He's in enough of a good mood himself that he turns up the radio, some song with thumping bass coming through the speakers, as he rolls the windows down, the warm summer night air blowing your hair.

Nate, now actually nervous—afraid he's about to ruin everything—reaches over, resting his palm over your bare knee.

You don't push it away. Instead, you simply glance at it for a moment, feeling something...something you're not sure how to describe at the sight of him touching you like that, and then lean back, content to leave his hand right where it is.

And so he does. The entire drive back to your place.

It doesn't matter how desperately he wants to, he doesn't move it any higher.

Once he's pulled into your driveway, he removes his hand, your leg now feeling cold, and kills the engine. You unbuckle yourself and turn toward him. "I know we said it earlier, but I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you, for dinner and bowling and just...today."

He reaches up, running his fingers through your now-tangled hair. "It was my pleasure. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"

You nod, smiling. "I'd like that."

He wants to lean across the console and kiss you, but once again tells himself no. Something he's quickly tiring of having to do.

He glances out the windshield. "I'll walk you to the door."

He retrieves the Nordstrom bag from the backseat before coming around to your side, holding it behind his back as he offers you his hand to help you down.

Nate walks you to your door, watching as you unlock it. He wishes you'd just come back to his house instead, but doesn't dare suggest as much. He'd rather you sleep in his bed with him than stay in this empty house where you're not safe on your own.

Even if he'd made sure you were a couple night this last week when he parked across the street, a couple houses down, pistol in his glovebox. Just incase.

You look up to him with a shy smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replies, handing you the shopping bag.

Your brows furrow. "I thought this was for your mom?"

He shrugs. "I lied. I wanted to buy you something all day, but knew if I asked, you'd tell me no. This way was easier."

You're not sure how to feel about the fact he'd lied to you so easily. Had made—most likely, if the brand-name on the bag is any indication—a rather expensive purchase for you. You're just not sure why.

Before you can bother asking, he plants a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Hope you like it," he says before heading back to his truck.

Once you're inside and in your room, you immediately start pulling out the contents from the bag and setting them on your bed. Your heartrate only rises with each item. A small bag from Sephora, another one from Tiffany, and four clothing items from Nordstrom—one being the dress he'd asked you to try on.

You feel lightheaded at the price tags on the clothing. But when you look in the Tiffany bag—pull out the jewelry box and open it, you sit down on the edge of your bed.

A diamond necklace.

"Nate..." you whisper to yourself in a panicked voice, wondering what had gotten into him to think that this is ok.

Surely...surely this item is meant for his mom. He'd just accidently thrown it in with everything else.

You pick up your phone with shaking hands, drop it, then pick it back up once again and call him.

"Hey, everything okay? I'm not too far away. I can turn back arou-"

You shake your head, despite the fact he can't see it. "The...the necklace for your mom, you accidentally put it in with-"

"I didn't get it for my mom. Everything there was purchased for you."

You go quiet suddenly, forcing Nate to check that you're even still on the line. He waits for you to respond.

"Nate, I don't know that I feel comfortable with this."

He slams on the brakes, pulling off to the side of the road, throwing the truck in park. "With what?"

"It...it'd be one thing if you'd bought me some cheap keychain or t-shirt or something. But all of this...do I even want to know how much this necklace costs?"

"Probably not," he replies, nonchalantly. Even if he wants to tell you that it was over a grand.

You hang your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. "You don't need to buy me stuff to try and repay me for tutoring you. I do it for free because I like helping people."

"I didn't do it for that."

"Then why?"

How to say, without alarming you: it makes my dick hard spoiling and spending obscene amounts of money on you?

"I just wanted to give you a few nice things. That's all."

"Nate, I don't-"

"Listen, do you want to repay me?"

You go quiet again. Meanwhile, he wants to say, if you say yes: then do it in sexual favors, starting with letting me wrap you hair around my fist as I face-fuck you.

"How?"

"Enjoy it. Wear the white dress and necklace to school on Monday." He wants to throw in the blush, but doesn't, hoping you'll decide to use that all on your own.

You lay back on your bed. "It's all very nice and pretty, and I appreciate it immensely. But-"

"Do you want me to turn around and come get it?" His tone is now the slightest bit annoyed. "If you don't like it, you can tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings. I'm sorry, I guess I fucked up."

You feel guilty now somehow. Like you're being ungrateful. Even if you hadn't asked for any of it. Maybe...maybe this is what Nate thinks you have to do to make friends: buy their affection?

When you grow up wealthy like he has, you reason, it makes sense.

"No, I'm sorry." Your voice is soft and gentle and feminine now, and he relaxes, his grip on his phone loosening.

You don't even realize it, but his sudden shift in mood had been so imperceptible that it had scared you.

All you do know is that you somehow feel wrong, but you're not sure how, exactly. So, you just brush it off and blame it on being tired. Blame it on anything but him.

"I'm just...I'm not used to people buying me gifts. It's very sweet of you. Thank you," you say as you lightly run your fingers over the soft material of the white dress he wants you to wear in a couple of days.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

You're not sure how to feel about the pet names, either, but don't want to hurt his feelings again, so you ignore your discomfort.

"I'm going to go take a shower and throw my new clothes in the washer. Be safe driving home. Goodnight...again," you say it with a small laugh.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader) #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x you #euphoria x reader #whew lad look at me exploring my emotional abuse trauma through my writing #i hope this chap doesn't suck‚ i feel like it sucks

[pagetsgirl]

bad day (drabble)

warnings: teeth-rotting fluff , and shitty writing

summary: Emily has a bad case, but luckily for her, she has an amazing wife who really knows how to take care of her.

a/n: english is not my native language, so i apologise for any mistakes!! also; my requests are open so don’t be afraid to reach out and request something <3

word count: 598

read on ao3 or below the cut

The case was in Texas, where the police department was filled with homophobic assholes who didn’t even know what 1+1 is. Safe to say, it wasn’t a good case for Emily, or anyone really. But now she was close to reaching home, she just wanted to dive into your arms, and let you take control.

You heard the familiar opening of the front door, followed by a heavy sigh when she took off the tight combat boots she’s been wearing all day.

You quickly made your way to the hallway, where you threw yourself into her arms, smelling the familiar perfume that you grew to love so much. The brunette wrapped her arms around you, and buried her face into the crook of your neck.

Of course you knew she had a bad case, as the two of you made sure to text the other throughout the day when the agent was away on a case.

“come on baby, how about we get you into a nice warm bath?” You say softly to your wife, knowing exactly what’ll help her wind down after a long week. “Yes please,” she replied softly, letting you take care of her.

You led her into the bathroom, never letting her go. As she undressed, you turned on the bath and let it fill with perfectly temperature water and good smelling bubbles, making sure to use the one that smells like vanilla, your go to smell, for extra comfort.

“Baby, could you maybe join me?” Her voice sounded so incredibly small, it was impossible to say no, especially paired with the puppy eyes she was giving you. You quickly undressed and slid into the tub, letting her settle between your legs. She let out a small sigh when the warm water eased the ache in her limps.

You two sat there in comfortable silence, until you started to softly massage the kinks out of her shoulders, causing her to let out a long sigh. Her eyes fell closed, and her shoulders relaxed as she laid into you even more.

You guys stayed there for around 20 more minutes, until the water started to turn incredibly cold. “Darling, we got to get out now,” you tell her. Emily softly shook her head. “I’m comfy…” she let out a soft yawn. “No babe, you’re going to freeze to death.” You softly pushed her forward, so you could get out of the tub, and grabbed a couple fluffy towels.

After both of you are wrapped into a towel, you grabbed two pairs of pj’s, making sure they’re both yours, so your wife wouldn’t complain about it. As you’ve made the mistake before, which resulted in you having to sleep on the couch (even though she’d join you about five minutes in).

Not even 5 minutes later and the both of you were wrapped in each other, limps being a tangled mess. “Baby…” She softly murmured. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for taking care of me,”

“I always will, pretty girl, I love you so much.”

She let out a soft giggle, just proving how exhausted she was. “I love you too, so incredibly much,”

“Good, now go to sleep, yeah? I’ll be there when you wake up, I promise.”

“Mmm, goodnight,” her eyes were already closed, and her breathing quickly evened out.

“Sweet dreams, my darling, I’ll always be there for you and I love you so much, I promise you,”

And just as you said that, Sergio sneaked into your bed and laid against your leg.

"I love you too Sergio," You said with a smile.

#ao3 writer #fanfic #ao3 #criminal minds #ao3 fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #fluff #wlw

[starwarsbian]

stonerboyfriend!anakin <3

this is gonna be smut pls avert your eyes if you’re -18!

enjoy these hot gifs of sam monroe but just.. he is my modern anakin mkay!

your boyfriend, anakin, gets you high in his bedroom and rails you while his halloween party is happening downstairs

3k words and NOT proofread

cw :weed, fingering, oral (f! receiving), spit, shotgunning, intoxicated sex, he fucks u with his rings on, scratching until he bleeds, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kinda

halloween party thrown by ur weirdo emo bf anakin, music is blaring and he has you pulled up against his body: your back against his chest and ass pressing circles against his hips. he sways with you and curses into your neck at the feeling of your hips against his cock..

“fuck.. that’s good. this is so good. you’re perfect. i can’t wait to get you upstairs.”

with that he spins you around and crashes your lips together; teeth almost clashing but it’s mostly just panting in between him languidly.. sucking on your tongue.

it is absolutely intoxicating and ani tastes like weed. you don’t even care that you’re in front of people right now as he grabs your ass.

“come upstairs and smoke with me, baby,” he grins at you and pulls you towards the stairs.

you’re both laughing and excited when you get into his room. the walls are covered in posters and his bed up against the wall isn’t made. other than that it’s not really messy. ani’s bong sits on his night stand and he sits down on the bed.

“wait here, the water is really dirty i don’t want you to have to taste that. deserve better than that,” as he walks to the bathroom.

it’s a nice gesture but really his bong is filthy regardless of any clean water. his grinder is sitting on the table as well, he picks it up and opens it to pack the bowl.

“ah, yes. what a gentlemen.”

“shut up. i didn’t think you’d want to do it? you said it’s annoying before. just shhh, stop being a brat.”

he goes to hand you the bong but you stop him, “will you light it for me, ani?” looking at him with your best doe eyes. it’s far from necessary as you smoke together all the time but it’s intimate and you kind of hope it turns him on more.

he rolls his eyes at you but tells you yes anyway. he lights the bowl for you as you pull smoke into the bong and when he thinks it’s enough for one hit he takes the bowl out; breaking the closed loop of air inside so you can actually inhale it.

he smiles at you as you exhale and cough a few times. he does the same process for himself as you recover.

“you look pretty like this; you really always look pretty when we’re smoking. there’s something about it that’s just hot.”

you take the bong back and look at him confused, even though you know what he means because you could seriously watch him do this all day. the ways his hands look, his mouth pressed against the glass, how he relaxes on his exhales, when he also coughs and looks at you with low glossy eyes.

“yeah, right. don’t make fun of me,” you pout.

“shhh, i’m not. hit this, i’ll light it again for you, pretty girl.”

you do exactly as he says and he brushes your hair behind your ear; making sure it’s not near the flame. you do the normal inhale and exhale, feeling the burning in your throat but nodding to anakin for him to light it for you again; with his right hand.

his left slides up your thigh; you’re sitting criss-cross on his bed even though you’re wearing a skirt. you didn’t even think about it but anakin noticed; seeing just a flash of your panties when you’ve shifted around on the bed. he starts massaging your thigh; gripping and pressing against your skin. you’re smiling as you pass the bong back to him. he takes his hands back and empties the cashed bowl into his ashtray.

“another one, babe?” he asks you.

“yes, actually. if you don’t mind, ani.”

“mmm-mm,” he says shaking his head as he for some reason has the bag of weed in between his teeth. you don’t ask; maybe just think about how you wish it was you he was biting. “i don’t mind.”

the whole process of smoking with ani is always relaxing and repetitive. he really doesn’t make you do anything. if you wanted he’d let you lay in his bed while he does everything but actually breathe. sometimes he’ll do the breathing part too though.

the bowl is packed and he lights it, going to hit it for himself first but instead of actually breathing it into his lungs he holds the smoke he can in his mouth and pulls you towards him. anakin gets his lips so close to yours you might as well be kissing as he holds your cheek and blows the smoke into your mouth. you breathe it all in greedily before kissing him and exhaling from your nose so you hopefully don’t choke. by some miracle you don’t! it goes smoothly and anakin kisses you back until you break the kiss, gasping for air.

his hands are back on your thighs again and he faces you with the biggest smile on his face. “you’re so hot that i can’t even think,” he says.

you giggle and reach for the bong to hit by yourself. he’s moving closer and closer to touching your center but stops to tease and ask for consent.

“i wanna touch you, baby. let me tease you and make you feel good.”

“we’re smoking! wouldn’t want this to go to waste”, you say, teasing him.

“yeah, sure, whatever. let’s smoke more…i love touching you when you’re high and all you can do is babble and whine, anyway. one of my favorite ways to have you.”

you take turns hitting the piece through three more bowls. by the time you’re finished, your throat burns and you’re practically buzzing with excitement for how good this high sex is going to be with anakin. this entire time he’s been playing with your thighs and touching the wet spot in your panties with whatever part of his hand he wants. he tries using his thumb, then his index, then his middle, then both of them; he presses harder or softer depending on what part of smoking you’re on because he really doesn’t want to ruin the mood by making you choke on smoke.

“are you done? i want you on my lap,” he whispers into your ear. sitting the bong down for the last time, you allow him to grab your hips and pull you onto him. he’s laying on his bed with his back up against the headboard. his thumbs press hard into your hips and you moan at the feeling.

anakin presses his lips to yours. they’re soft and warm against yours. you grind your hips down onto his and feel the cold metal of the chain on his jeans against your thigh. his head falls back with his mouth open at the pressure against his cock. he can feel the pooling of precum on his tip already. watching you put your pretty lips on his bong and suck reminded him way too much of how you give him head. he wonders if that just makes him a pervert.

anakin slips his hands under your shirt and reaches up to pinch both of your nipples. you hiss at the sensation and slap his hands away. “too rough, ani. touch me softer there. be rough other places instead.”

“sorry, baby..i just got carried away. i know that’s what you prefer. let me kiss it better. huh?” he asks as he pulls your shirt off. you nod and put your fingers into his hair as he lowers his mouth down to your left nipple. his tongue piercing drags heavy across the area with the metal providing a stark difference in sensation compared to his soft tongue and mouth. he switches to the other, being careful not to neglect either side.

anakin messily drags his tongue up your chest and onto your neck. he latches onto your skin and sucks; ani gives dark hickeys every time even though he says he tries to be gentle. he leaves you covered in blooming blurry bruises from his mouth. he’s using his teeth and Scraping across your flesh. there’s a pinching sensation that’s quickly soothed by his tongue swiping over the spot of irritation. the blood vessels in your breast are below such thin skin that the marks he leaves there would look concerning. those ones come out a pretty purple color with dark shades of red and eventually yellow as they heal. he’s so rough that the marked there always hurt like real bruises the next day. any bruises anakin leaves on you he loves to dig his fingers into the next time he fucks you. maybe that’s why he’s squeezing your hips so hard.

he switched places with you; making you lie on the bed while he kisses and bites his way down your body. he desperately grabs at your body like you’re going to run away from him and you think about it as he sinks his teeth down hard on your hip and then your inner thigh and then the other inner thigh. each time makes you rip on his hair harder trying to get him to let go. he thinks it’s cute but the hair pulling really just makes him want to be even more mean to you.

anakin absolutely adores you but he’s high and he’s horny and wants to make you cry.

with his mouth inches from your clit he pulls your panties to the side and breathes warm air onto your cunt, sending shivers up your spine. “c’mon, anakin. give me your tongue..give me your fingers or your cock just do something i’m right here for you and i need you, god damn it.”

he decides he’s going to make you pay for running your little whore mouth later but for now he takes your panties off. he starts to akes them off really slow and nips behind where the fabric last touched and he taps your hip to tell you to lift up.

you do as he says and he obnoxiously throws them over his shoulder before dropping back down between your thighs.

you’re ridiculously wet but that always happens with anakin. he loves to tease you about it and take time to “clean up his mess” he says. his tongue presses between your folds; warm and wet and soft in a very different way to the way his fingers had been touching you. he spreads you a little to give you open mouthed kisses on your clit before he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks softly.

he closes his eyes and focuses on how you taste, dipping his tongue down to gather your slick. with his lips around your clit, he sucks harder and it makes your hips buck up and your hands pull at his dyed hair.

“fuck, anakin. easy, please?” you ask of him.

he shakes his head from between your thighs and slaps your left one really hard without even thinking about it.

“i’m busy? stop complaining.”

he spits on your pussy before he goes back to sucking and licking everywhere he wants. wet, soft circles are being drawn by him around your clit now while he brings his middle finger to your hole. he does circles around it as he looks up at you for permission.

“yes. yes, please.”

he smiles against your thigh and pushes into you up to last knuckle. you feel what seems like an extra bump around his finger? he’s left his rings on.

“what, baby? is something wrong?”

“it’s just—“ you’re cut off as he presses up into your g-spot.”

“it’s what? use your words.”

“your ring.. you didn’t take it off. you didn’t take any of them off.”

he adds his index finger— with another ring still on it.

“you like it. i can tell that you like it. probably wanted to feel them before this and wouldn’t even tell me,” he says.

it seems they’re just plain bands as there’s no unpleasant scraping and you decide to let him keep going. you’re blushing, though.

“yes, i like it. i’m not objecting, am i?”you say, arching into his hand.

anakin takes to the approach of reaching deep into you and letting the rings be pressing up against the spot you really like. he thinks it’s so hot, seeing you wrap around his fingers. your wetness has his entire hand slick as he speeds up.

“anakin..anakin…oh my god. im close,” you whine.

he immediately removes his fingers and puts them into his mouth to suck them clean. now he removes his rings and leans back down to you, kissing you roughly. he’s using his teeth again, biting and pulling hard on your bottom lip that’s surely swollen by now.

“i want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. not now at least.”

he shoves you roughly back down on his bed and takes his shirt off revealing his smooth skin and making your heart speed up like usual. crashing his lips into you he grinds himself onto your center, jeans still on.

“anakin,” you whine, “give it to me. i’ve been so good. i’m so high and horny and stupid for you. please fuck me.”

hopping off the bed he unbottons his jeans and takes his boxers off with them. he’s so pretty, all of him. his cock is gorgeous and he loves when you suck him off but you’re begging for him so he doesn’t wait.

the bed creaks as he gets back on and kisses you, lifting your leg up to be bent over his arm as holds it up for you. he pushes into you and you drag your nails across his back hard.

anakin loves when you hurt him during sex and moans at the burning sensation left in your wake. So with each thrust into you, you rake nails down his back.

“do it harder. scratch me harder, make me bleed, baby. please,” he whines into your ear. “it’ll feel so good for me right now, and i’ll be reminded of fucking you like this for days because it stings. don’t you want that?”

you absolutely did. you nod and he speeds up his pace; he’s pounding into you now. he’s not going to fast that it hurts but his skin hits yours over and over. with almost every stroke you’re tearing his skin apart. scratches you’ve already made sting extra for him as you go back over and it makes him hiss.

“god.. that’s so good. you’re such a good girl. you take my cock so well; don’t you love when i split you open like this? you’re lucky the music is so loud or i think everyone would hear the noises you’ve been making for me.”

he stops and tells you to turn over. anakin presses your face down into the pillows and lines his hips up with yours. he’s holding down the center of your back, keeping you in this deep arch. when he starts to fuck you again it’s forceful and so unbelievably deep. you forget how far in he can go in the right position but you can feel in your stomach each time he touches your cervix.

you’re clenching and begging for him to make you cum when he reaches around to touch your swollen clit. as he drills into you from behind he rubs soothing circles on it. the mix of internal and external stimulation making the muscles in your core tense up. you’re even tighter around his cock although he’s sliding in and out like he was made to fit in you.

pulling you against his chest you both sit up, his knees in between yours holding your legs open while he fucks up into you.

he’s gripping your hair and forcing the air out of your lungs as you gasp and shove yourself further onto him. your slick is dripping onto his balls in this position and your pussy is making obscene noises.

“you’re so fucking wet. do you hear that? you let me get you stoned and wreck your hole with all of our friends just downstairs? do you know any of them could come up here and knock, trying to find us? i bet they could hear your cunt through the door if they tried to, or at the very least the sound of my bed frame about to put a hole in the wall from how hard i’m ruining your little cunt.”

your head is so fuzzy with pleasure you don’t even care. he can do anything he wants at this point and you wouldn’t object.

the knot building in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter and each swipe of anakin’s finger against your clit has you on the verge of tears.

“ani. ani, i’m gonna make a mess all over your cock. you’re going to make me cum. please don’t stop.”

he pants in time with each thrust and holds you close.

“i’m not stopping, angel. so hot that you let me use you like this. cum on my cock, baby. show me how good i make you feel.”

you fall apart as he holds you up and try to close your thighs, try to get him out when it becomes too much.

he forces them open and shoves your face down into the mattress to keep using your whole like a fuck toy. as soon as 10 thrusts later though he’s babbling about how he’s going to fill you up.

“i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna stuff you full, fuck it deeper until it hurts. oh, fuck,” anakin chokes on his last words. he fills you to the point it’s dripping out.

both of you taking deep breaths, he uses his finger to push it back into you while you gasp at the intrusion of your hole so soon.

“okay, baby,” he says. “let’s smoke some more so you let me keep going.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #star wars smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #stoner!anakin #modern au

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (2)

Youth

Lady Arianwyn and Prince Aemond grow up side-by-side.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Author's Note: This chapter is entirely new! The old chapter 2 will be back later as chapter 3. Also, I have not been around babies or toddlers or even kids under 10 since I was that age myself, so if I got any childhood development facts wrong, just pretend that I didn't!

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Only four days after Prince Aemond Targaryen saw his eleventh moon, he took his first steps. It was a matter of necessity. His nursemaid had set him on the nursery floor too far from Aria – all the way on the other side of the rug!

He did not really know who Aria was.

He did not know that her full name was ‘Arianwyn,’ for everyone only called her Aria – except for the large men in bronze suits, who called her ‘Lady,’ or sometimes “Little Lady.” He did not know that she was his cousin, as he did not know what a cousin was. He did not know that she had not always been with him or that she was younger than him, for he had no memories without her there.

All he knew was that Aria was always there, and he was always with her.

But in that moment, she was too far away. He took one look at Aria’s sad and confused face, and he knew he needed to get to her. If he didn’t do it soon, she would start to cry. He hated it when she cried. It made him want to cry.

So, he started crawling toward her. Slowly, he was moving too slowly. She looked more and more like she was going to cry, and Aemond decided there wouldn’t be anything worse in the world.

He pushed his arms against the floor, bracing himself as he raised up onto his legs, as the bigger people did. When he lifted his arms again, he saw Aria staring at him, no longer looking like she was about to cry. While he was glad, he still wanted to go to her.

“Hurry, get the queen!”

Aemond remembered that last word, ‘queen.’ He heard it a lot when his second-favorite person was around. Was she here, too?

He turned his head to look at the part of the wall where people came through but didn’t see anyone. The turn cost him, though. His legs grew wobbly, and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to fall. He couldn’t prevent the fall, but maybe he could control it.

His arms flailing, Aemond leaned forward and took three steps closer to Aria before he fell on his face.

Three steps were enough, though. Aria had crawled forward to meet him in the middle of the rug, a wide smile on her face as she squealed with delight. Tears had already sprung to Aemond’s eyes from his fall, but when he looked at Aria, he forgot why he had wanted to cry.

“Aria!”

“Aymmmmmuh!”

Aemond knew words now – several of them. It infuriated Arianwyn. Especially when his favorite word was her name, and she could not say his back.

She knew his name. Whenever someone said “Aemond,” she knew they were talking about him. She just couldn’t get the word out. The first part, the “ay” sound, she usually got right, but it always fell apart from there.

The worst part was seeing his frustration when she failed, yet again, to say his name. She wanted Aemond to like her – needed him to like her.

He wasn’t like Aegon, who was too big and played in ways she couldn’t, or Helaena, who barely liked to play at all. They weren’t even there most of the time. They were big enough to leave the nursery and go to different places like “garden” or “great hall.”

But Aemond was perfect. He played exactly how she liked, and though he was bigger than her, he never played too roughly. When Aunt – who Aemond called “mama” – took Aegon and Helaena out of the nursery, he stayed with her. He always stayed with her. Even when they were in their cradles, she could still see him from across the room.

“Aymmnuh,” she tried again. And failed again.

Aemond frowned and shook his head. “No.”

Another favorite word of his – Aegon taught it to him. Arianwyn huffed, the sound echoed by the hatchling dragon sunning itself in the window.

Some weeks prior, she had woken in the hour of the wolf to find that the egg that had lain in her cradle had shattered. Shards of black speckled with storm gray and ice blue were strewn across her blanket, and the comforting heat she had grown accustomed to warming herself against was gone. As she began to cry, she noticed a shape looming over her, perched on the edge of her cradle.

The night nurses screamed, shouting at the guards outside the door. Both the man in red and black and the man in bronze looked at her and the dark shape at her feet with wide eyes before running down the corridor so fast their clanging armor sounded like a thunderstorm.

The noise woke Aemond, who looked from Arianwyn to the shape that had leaned down to peer at her. “Dwa- dwagon!”

Arianwyn watched as it jumped down from its perch. She could barely make out the shape in the darkness and against the deep brown of her fur blankets. It did look like the toys they played with that the others called “dragon.” Two membranous wings, a thin, flicking tail, a long neck covered with small spines, and eyes like living ice.

It moved cautiously as it approached her until she could see the faint lines of gray and white within its blue eyes—a dragon. Her dragon.

As she now frowned at Aemond, her dragon was sprawled on the stone of the windowsill, wings spread lazily as it echoed her frustration without even opening its eyes.

“Dragon!” Aemond exclaimed.

“Muhmuhnd!” She was so close, she knew it. She had all the pieces. She just needed to put them together. “Ay!”

Aemond stared at her, a hint of a smile on his face from knowing she was about to try again.

“Ay!” Her face was scrunched in determination as she shouted. The nurses paused their work and looked at her as well.

“Ay-muh!”

Aemond started clapping. One of the nurses whispered to another before slipping out the door.

“Ay-muhn!”

In the window, Arianwyn’s dragon sat up, small clouds of smoke puffing from his nostrils as it began to climb down from the window.

“Ay-muhn-duh! Aemond!”

One of the nurses pressed a hand to her chest and said a word Arianwyn didn’t know. The others started rushing around. But Arianwyn didn’t care. She was looking at Aemond, who clapped and smiled wider than she had ever seen.

“Aemond!” She shouted again, delighting in his responding laugh.

He pointed at her. “Aria!”

“Aemond!”

“Aria!”

“Aemond!”

There was a new baby in the nursery—two, actually, but Daeron had already been there for four moons, so his novelty had worn off.

Aemond and Arianwyn sat together on one end of the room, watching as he was held by his mother, Rhaenyra, who was also Aemond’s sister. That made him Aemond’s nephew, the nurses had explained.

They had also explained what he was to Aria, but he didn’t quite understand it, as it was somehow much more complicated. Aegon said he understood, and Helaena had nodded, which meant she probably understood, too. She didn’t talk much, and when she did, it never made much sense.

Aegon also explained that the new babe, whose name was “Jacaerys,” but everyone just called “Jace,” was something called a bastard. It meant that Jace’s father wasn’t his father; some other man was. But that didn’t make sense. Rhaenyra was married to Laenor, which meant Laenor was Jace’s father, for the Mother only gave babes to people who were married and very much in love.

When Aemond had asked more about it, Aegon rolled his eyes and said, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

It was something that was often said to Aemond and Arian, and they did not like it very much. They would have to wait a long time to be older, and they didn’t want to wait.

They also did not like that they were not allowed to play with Jace as they did with Daeron. Rhaenyra said they were “too big.” But when they asked Rhaenyra if she would play with them while Jace was sleeping, she also said no, even though she was definitely big enough. She only ever came to the nursery when Jace was awake and left the moment he fell asleep.

Aemond decided he did not like Rhaenyra.

She had never come to see him, or Aegon, or Helaena, or Aria before Jace was born. Now that she had finally come, she all but ignored them. When they tried to talk to her, she seemed annoyed. Worst of all, he had seen her giving Aria a mean look several times.

His mother did not get along with Rhaenyra very well, so he assumed it was fine not to like her.

However, his father loved Rhaenyra. He came to visit her and her babe often, which would annoy Aemond if it didn’t also mean he got to see his father more.

Since his father was the king, he was very busy and didn’t always have time to see his children in the nursery. But now that the nursery was very full with six children, he made the time, Aemond’s grandsire, who was also the Hand of the King, said.

The king spent most of his time with Jace, but that was probably because Jace was the newest. He still held Daeron, played with Arianwyn and her dragon, complimented Helaena’s insects, admired Aemond's drawings, ruffled Aegon’s hair, and read them all stories from Old Valyria – the fantastical empire where their ancestors were from.

Aemond loved those stories. So did Aria. They tried to memorize them so they could tell them to each other whenever the king wasn’t there. Sometimes, they even acted out some of the stories, with Helaena, Daeron, and several of Aria’s attendants–including her lady’s maid, Brynna, and any number of her twelve guards–as their audience.

Her attendants also told them stories about Aria’s other ancestors, the Bronze Kings. Before there were any Targaryens or Dragons in Westeros, the Bronze Kings ruled over Runestone. One day, Aria would, too.

They didn’t know what Aemond would do. He was a prince, but he wasn’t the heir. There weren’t many stories about second sons. Whenever they asked, they were again told, “You’ll understand when you’re older.” But they never worried for long. There were lots of other exciting things to think about, like when Aemond’s dragon egg would hatch.

Arianwyn looked around the large room with wide eyes. She had never been to this room before, even though she had now been to many different rooms in the Red Keep. At least Aemond was there, so she wasn’t alone. Still, she wished she had been allowed to bring her dragon – which she had named ‘Emrys’ after a recent visit from her cousin, Ser Gerold.

Brynna was also there, but she sat in a chair by the door sewing something, so she couldn’t hold Arianwyn’s hand. Aemond did so happily. She was pretty sure he was also nervous. His eyes were moving all around the room, too. But his face didn’t look afraid.

Aegon was also there, but Arianwyn didn’t find comfort in his presence. Ever since Aegon left the nursery, he became mean. He was never very nice, but Arianwyn never thought he had been mean. He liked to make jokes that were not very funny, but he laughed anyway.

Most of the jokes were about Aemond and how his egg hadn’t hatched. It didn’t make much sense to Arianwyn, as Aegon’s egg hadn’t hatched either. But he had just returned from a trip to Dragonstone – their family’s other castle – with a hatchling from a different egg. He named it Sunfyre, because it was gold and pink and shiny.

Helaena also went, and though she did not find a dragon from Dragonstone, when she went with their father and Aegon to show Sunfyre the Dragonpit, she met Dreamfyre, who was once ridden by Princess Rhaena, their grandfather’s sister. Helaena and Dreamfyre bonded almost instantly, and the king was very happy.

Aemond and Arianwyn hadn’t been allowed to go along to Dragonstone at all. Arianwyn, because she was too little and already had a dragon, and Aemond, just because he was too little. He had been sad since then, and nothing Arianwyn did seemed to cheer him up for very long.

She squeezed his hand a little, causing him to look at her, his face still empty. “Are you excited?"

At the other end of the table, Aegon scoffed. “There’s nothing to be excited about, trust me.”

Arianwyn rolled her eyes. The first time she did it, it annoyed Aegon, so now she did it whenever possible. “I’m excited. I want to learn everything!”

The corner of Aemond’s mouth quirked up as if he would smile. But it fell back when Aegon started talking again. “You want to learn ‘everything?’ Perhaps you should become a maester, then.”

His tone was mocking, but Arianwyn considered the possibility. The maesters had the biggest library at the Citadel in Oldtown. Perhaps she should be a master; then, she could read all the stories she wanted. But that would require her to be in Oldtown, which was very far away from Runestone.

“Can I be a maester and Lady of Runestone?” she asked.

It went completely silent. Then, Brynna sighed sadly in the corner, and Aegon started laughing.

Arianwyn’s stomach sank. Had she said something wrong? She looked around, hoping someone else would tell her why Aegon was laughing. But Brynna just looked tired, and her guard for the day, Ser Warren, looked like he was hurting, or maybe had smelled something bad. Either way, his face was all scrunched up.

“Shut up!” Aemond shouted, startling her enough that she clapped her hands over her ears. He glared at his brother, his face reddened and angry. “Don’t laugh at her!”

Aegon kept laughing. Aemond kept shouting. Ser Christor looked like he was about to panic. Brynna abandoned her sewing and ran to calm everyone down, but it didn’t work. Tears started to sting behind Arianwyn’s eyes, so she shut them tight, ducked her chin, and shook her head back and forth. That always made the nightmares go away. Maybe it would make this go away, too.

Suddenly, Aegon’s laughing and Aemond’s shouting stopped. She lifted her hands away from her ears and opened her eyes just enough to see Maester Orwyle entering the room.

“Prince Aegon, perhaps it would be wise to keep your lessons separate from Prince Aemond and Lady Arianwyn’s.” His voice was just as gentle as when he came to the nursery when one of them was sick, but Aegon still scowled at him. “Unless you would prefer to repeat the fundamentals of the curriculum?”

Aegon pushed his chair away from the table so fast it fell over and gave a smile that made Arianwyn nervous. “I don’t give a fuck.”

Ser Christor’s eyes went wide. Brynna gasped and put a hand on her chest. Aegon didn’t acknowledge them before stomping out of the room.

After the door slammed shut, Orwyle sighed. He smiled at Aemond and Arianwyn, but it seemed fake. “I am very excited you two are beginning your lessons; you have always been curious.”

He sat at the table across from them and opened a large, messy book. “Before we begin, do you have any questions about how lessons work?”

Aemond said nothing, pouting, as he often did around Aegon, with his arms crossed.

Arianwyn raised her hand above her head. “Grand Maester, what is a ‘fuck?’”

“Just grab it!”

“It’s too high!”

Arianwyn huffed, crossing her arms as she looked up at Aemond, standing atop a chair trying to reach a large leather-bound book. “Do you want me to try?”

“No!” Aemond’s face reddened. “I can do it. Besides, you’re shorter than me – how could you reach it if I can’t?”

She thought for a moment. If Emrys lived in the Keep, she could have him pry the book out, but he was in the Dragonpit now. Even after three moons, she still woke, expecting to find him tucked against her chest, fast asleep.

But he’d gotten too big to stay in the castle, and Arianwyn had to take him to the Dragonpit. The king and Aemond went with her and helped her with her High Valyrian while she explained to Emrys that he had to stay there now. It didn’t stop him from flying back to the castle for the first fortnight, but he eventually learned to stay in his den.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe I’ll have an idea if I get on the chair.”

Aemond shook his head, his brow set. “No, you could fall.” Before she could get her next argument out, he continued, “I can do it. Watch.”  

He braced one hand on the edge of the shelf while the other just skimmed the spine of the book they were trying to reach, then jumped. Arianwyn called his name, certain he would fall and hurt himself or even destroy the book.

But then, Aemond was again standing steady on the chair, the book in his hands and a happy grin.

“You did it!” The very moment he was off the chair, Arianwyn hugged him tightly. He could not hug her back with the heavy book in his hands, so he just dropped his head on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go read!”

She dragged him back to the table in the small alcove, where they had already set out pen and paper. Once Aemond had set the book down and opened it to the first page, she picked up the pen and got ready to write.

“Before the Andu-Andals came to Westeros, and long before Aegon Targaryen con… conchu… um…”

Arianwyn pointed to the word he struggled with. “Conquered. Remember how he’s called ‘Aegon the Conqueror?’”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I know. Con-kerd. I was just…making sure I was saying it right.”

She didn’t quite believe him, but she didn’t want to correct him either, so she gave him a smile and nodded for him to continue.

“…before Aegon Targaryen conquered the Seven Kingdoms with his dragons, the lands were inhuh- inhah… inhabee...”

Arianwyn again pointed at the book. “‘In-hah-bih-ted.’ I’ve heard it before but can’t remember what it means. Do you?”

“I…” He slumped, looking pointedly away from her. “No, I don’t.”

They both looked at the book for a moment before Arianwyn handed the pen and paper to Aemond. “Write it down,” she instructed. “In our lessons with Orwyle tomorrow, we can ask him.”

Aemond looked from the book to the paper, then slid the book to her. It made more sense this way, Arianwyn thought. She was better at pronouncing big words, and he was better at writing things down so they would be ‘legible,’ a word Orwyle said but had never really explained.

“In-hah-bih-ted,” Aemond said as he wrote the word down. He whispered the pronunciation a few more times before looking back at Arianwyn. “I’m ready for more.”

She smiled broadly before looking at the page again. “The lands were inhabited by the First Men, who had built mighty kingdoms that…”

When he was younger, Aemond used to look at the Dragonpit from the seat at the nursery window. For hours, he would dream about one day walking through its mighty doors, mounting his own dragon, and finally claiming his birthright as a Targaryen prince.

Now, he had half a mind to tear down those doors himself.

The task would be far easier with the assistance of a dragon, however, which at the age of eight, Aemond still did not have.

Aegon and Helaena did. His bastard nephews did, somehow. Arianwyn did. But Aemond did not.

Still, he was forced to attend lessons with the Dragonkeepers, watching the others and only imagining doing the same with his own dragon. It wasn’t so bad when Aria was with him. Aegon made jokes, but stopped when she snapped back at him. After that, he would target their nephews. Aemond sometimes even laughed with him.

But then, during one lesson, Dreamfyre snapped at the younger dragons as they pranced around her. She did not cause any physical harm, but Vermax refused to leave his den for days, and Sunfyre would splay out on all fours the moment he saw the mighty she-dragon and stay that way until she left.

After that, the Dragonkeepers decided it prudent to separate Dreamfyre from the younger dragons. Not entirely, for she needed to learn to tolerate them before they could all fly together. She would continue to train with only one – Emrys.

It made sense. Emrys annoyed Dreamfyre the least. And when Aegon made Aria mad, the black dragon would often snap at Sunfyre.

So, Aemond was left to face the torment of being a Targaryen without a dragon alone.

Without Aria there to stop him, Aegon redoubled his teasing. Worse still, the bastards figured out that if they followed Aegon’s lead and made their own jokes at Aemond’s expense, he would not make jokes about them.

The Dragonpit, once a source of hope and inspiration, was now Aemond’s hell.

It started with small, simple japes or whispered comments about his lack of a dragon. But over time, it worsened.

The remarks became crueler and, sometimes, included a crudeness that rankled Aemond. “It’s still good practice for you,” Aegon said. “Even without a dragon, you’ll still need to know how to ride whatever beast mother sends you off to marry.”

The jokes evolved past mere verbal mockery. Once, Aegon and his bastard lackeys had an old saddle that one of their ancestors had used brought in. For Aemond to practice his riding stance, they said. But when he took the seat, he found himself sitting atop a pile of dragon dung they had placed in the saddle and concealed with a sheet of burlap.

He never should have trusted them. He knew it.

But he wanted to.

He wanted to practice his riding stance, to finally sit in a dragon’s saddle, even if it was on the ground rather than an actual dragon. He wanted to feel reins in his hand and imagine the wind flowing past him. And a part of him even wanted to be friends with his brother and nephews.

That small, weak part of him was soon thoroughly snuffed out.

Just after his ninth nameday, Aemond was approached by Aegon and their nephews. He’d long since vowed not to trust them, but his brother’s words shot through his defenses like Valyrian steel through armor.

“Let’s go get you a dragon, brother.”

“What?” Aemond’s heart stopped in his chest. Had one of the she-dragons laid a new clutch of eggs, or had one of the eggs in the warming chamber hatched? Perhaps a new wild dragon had been spotted?

“Look, you’ve just celebrated your nameday,” there was something genuine in Aegon’s voice, unbelievable as it was. He set a hand on Aemond’s shoulder, but it didn’t reassure him as much as it unsettled him. “You’re nearly a man. And you’ve been training with the Dragonkeepers for so long that you’re more than ready to try and claim a dragon. Unless you’re still waiting on that egg?”

That egg, once a deep blue swirling with purple, green, and silver wisps, had turned to stone years ago. It still waited by the hearth in his chambers, just in case of a miracle. He shook his head.

Aegon smiled and turned toward the dragon dens. “Come on then, let’s go.”

“Do the Dragonkeepers know?”

Lucerys ran up behind them, a half-toothless smile splitting his face. “No! We –”

“We didn’t want to tell them because… well,” Jacaerys stuttered momentarily, and Aemond’s faith wavered.

“They wouldn’t allow it if they knew.” Aegon didn’t look back as he led them down the sloping entrance to the dragon dens. “I can’t understand why. Surely, they know you’re more than ready.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Just imagine the look on their faces when they see you come into the arena on the back of a full-grown dragon!”

And Aria, Aemond thought. She would be thrilled for him. He could picture it perfectly, the gleam of utter glee in her eyes as she smiled as wide as she could. And she would be able to ride Emrys soon, she’d told him. If he claimed an adult dragon, they could fly together.

The fantasy ended the moment the last of the daylight disappeared. That rush of anticipation faded, leaving him with only reluctance and fear.

Not that he had time to act on it before Aegon seized his arm and pointed into the massive passages lit only by distant torches. “Terrax makes his den down there.”

Aemond nearly choked as he named the formidable dragon that had hatched during Aegon the Conqueror’s reign and remained unclaimed since. “You want me to claim Terrax?”

“Yes!” Aegon spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you think you deserve one of the largest and most powerful dragons in the world?”

“I… I suppose so.”

Aegon patted Aemond’s shoulder, then pushed him forward a few steps, sand flying up around him. “Then get on!”

He made no move to follow. Neither did their bastard nephews.

“Are you not coming with me?” The thought of approaching Terrax was daunting enough. To do it alone was nearly unthinkable.

Lucerys opened his mouth, but Jacaerys thumped him before he could say anything. Aegon just held Aemond’s gaze. “We are but must follow behind, so we don’t spook Terrax. Too many unfamiliar scents will put him on edge.”

It made sense, according to everything he’d learned about dragons. Unbonded dragons were especially sensitive to unfamiliar people, it was why novice Dragonkeepers were always accompanied by an elder.

Still, this wasn’t something Aemond wanted to do alone. “But you will be behind me?”

“We will,” Aegon assured, a hint of annoyance entering his voice.

“You swear it?”

“I swear.”

Aemond searched his brother’s face for any hint of deception but found none. Either he had become a more proficient liar, or he was telling the truth. This was his brother, his future king. If he couldn’t trust Aegon, who could he trust?

He could trust Aria. Always. If only she were here, he would be far more confident. And braver – he wouldn’t let her see him afraid. If she were here, he’d march right into Terrax’s den and lay his claim. He remembered the image he’d pictured of her proud face when he told her he’d claimed a dragon and decided he would do anything to make it real.

One step forward. Two. Three.

It was not long before it was so dark that when he looked behind him, he could not see Aegon, Jacaerys, or Lucerys. But knowing they were there was still a comfort, even if he had to walk the shadowed distances between torches.

The dragon dens, at last, came into view. The first few – one on the left, two on the right – were empty. The next one on the left had a massive nest of straw, wood, and sand occupying nearly every crevice of the room.

A low growl echoed through the corridor. Perhaps it was simply a dragon snoring. Maybe one had already scented him. The only way to know for certain was to continue.

As he approached the next den on the right, the growl came again, louder this time. Aemond said a swift prayer before moving closer, as quietly as he could.

He pressed his back to the wall and crept forward, waiting for the den itself to come into view. Waiting to see what lay inside. He reached the threshold and slowly peeked into the den.

A large green eye met his.

Terrax whipped his massive head toward Aemond, letting out a piercing roar.

“Ly.. lykirī! Dohaerās!” Be calm. Serve.

Terrax did not. A glow began in his throat, and heat threatened to overwhelm Aemond.

He was going to burn him.

Aemond ran, stumbling in the sand. He had to get away, get out, escape.

“Aegon!” It was both plea and warning.

No answer came.

“Aegon!”

The heat was growing, growing, growing. A whooshing noise chased him.

“Aegon! Jacaerys! Lucerys! Help!”

The tunnel was bright as day now. Sweat rapidly formed and fell from his brow.

The fire was upon him.

He had one last prayer.

“Aria!”

Aria was waiting in the library when Aemond finally escaped the thorough scoldings he’d received from both Elder Dantis, the leader of the Dragonkeepers, and his mother. “Aemond! Come look what Ser Gerold sent from Runestone!”

He should have been thrilled, should have felt excitement rushing in his veins at the prospect of new books directly from Aria’s home. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t even heartened by the fact that she’d waited for him for so long. He felt… nothing.

“Aemond?” As he came closer, she seemed to finally notice his disheveled appearance. The ends of his hair had been burnt away, and soot and sand clung to his clothes. “What happened?”

“I…” He took his seat, keeping his gaze on the blank parchment before him. This was what they always did: sit together while Aria read, and he wrote down new words or questions they had. It was his favorite part of the day.

Why did the prospect now make him want to cry?

He shook his head.

Aria exchanged a glance with her guard – Ser Christor always seemed to be on duty while they were in the library. She moved her chair closer to his. “Lēkia?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Her voice always soothed him and made him feel happy and safe. But right now, it seemed to echo Terrax's horrible roaring.

A small, gentle hand came to rest on his. The touch… felt good—soft, safe, and cool.

But then she spoke again. “Please, are you alright?”

Aemond managed a slight nod. Terrax’s fire went above him, so he managed to escape without any burns, but his clothes and pride were ravaged. As was his faith in his brothers and nephews.

“Why won’t you say anything?” Damn it all, she was about to cry. He could not stand to hear anyone speaking right now, not even her. Yet he could not stand making her cry, either.

He picked up the quill she’d laid out for him, dipping it carelessly into the inkwell. He wrote, “I am well, but I really badly don’t feel like talking.”

“Oh…” Aria frowned but nodded. Aemond knew not talking would be hard for her; she always had so much to say. But she was willing to be silent for him. He could have kissed her for it.

She moved the book between them and began to open it before shutting it again, reaching over it, and grabbing Aemond’s parchment. There was little ink left in the quill, but she just managed to squeeze out, “Tap my hand when you want to turn the page.”       

It felt like everyone in the whole world was looking at Arianwyn. It was certainly everyone in her world.

The king and queen. Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys. Ser Criston Cole. All her guards from Runestone. The Grand Maester and Orwyle. The other lords of the Small Council. Countless other lords and ladies that Arianwyn had met but did not remember well.

Ser Gerold had arrived only the day before with several lords and ladies from Runestone and their bannermen.

Even Rhaenyra was there, though she didn’t look very happy about it. Ser Laenor was next to her, Jace and Luke in front of them, their dark eyes wide as they looked at Arianwyn and Emrys. She tried not to look at their eyes for too long – it felt rude, considering those eyes were quite the source of gossip.

“Emrys umbā, āeksio.” Elder Dantis motioned toward her now-saddled dragon. “Īlos pradagon?” Emrys is ready, lady. Shall we begin?

“Issa,” Arianwyn replied. She wasn’t quite sure whether she was really ready or not, but she couldn’t disappoint all those who had come to watch her first flight. So, she approached Emrys, stroking the smooth black scales of his snout.

He had grown impressively, now nearly twice as large as the King’s wheelhouse. According to the Dragonkeepers, it was unusual for a dragon to grow this fast away from Dragonstone or Valyria. There was much speculation about why, but Arianwyn didn’t care. She would love him no matter his size, though it did help that he was already large enough to ride.

He grumbled slightly, his icy eyes glancing at the crowd and the scales and spikes along his spine flaring. In many respects, she thought, he was quite like a spoiled cat.

“Hae urnēbosy pōnte daor gaomās,” Arianwyn whispered. Try to act like they aren’t watching us.

His grumbling turned to whining.

“Sepār zūgan,” she admitted, “yn kesir kosti. Īlon kosti gīmin. Ao kostā gīmin.” I’m nervous too, but we can do it. I know we can. I know you can.”

Emrys huffed a warm breath onto Arianwyn, a gesture of affection and conceding, before nudging her toward his side and the ropes that led to the saddle.

He did not like the saddle. That much was evident from the claw marks nearly covering the worn leather and how he would roll over on his back whenever the Dragonkeepers tried to put it on. It always took Arianwyn herself to talk him into letting them. But he was getting better about it. Slightly.

The saddle was not hers. It had been passed down in the family for generations, meant for young dragons who were still growing rapidly. Still, as Arianwyn settled into the ancient, worn leather, she could not help but think it fit her perfectly.

She dared one more glance at the crowd. The king was beaming. The queen looked as though she were about to faint. Ser Gerold and her Runestone guards looked to be somewhere between the two. Rhaenyra wasn’t even looking, though her husband and sons were.

Arianwyn looked last at her cousins. Helaena wore the same dreamy expression she always did, though her lips seemed to be moving slightly. Aegon was harder to read. She had expected him to look at her disdainfully or mockingly, but he didn’t. He looked happy, though it didn’t make much sense.

And Aemond. Her heart ached to look at him. She knew he was happy for her – more than happy, even. But being here today must also cause him such pain, driving home the fact that he still had not claimed a dragon. Guilt stung in her chest. She should have told him she wouldn’t mind if he stayed behind at the Keep.

But then, he smiled. There was still longing in his eyes for his own mount, but he smiled so brightly that Arianwyn soon smiled back, suddenly anxious to show him what she could do. She straightened her posture and grasped the reins.

“Emrys! Sōvēs!”

By the time Emrys again landed in the courtyard of the Dragonpit, he had entirely shed his dislike of his saddle. As he flew over King’s Landing, he had trilled and hooted his delight for all to hear. Arianwyn had as well, shouting and hollering with every move – rising on an air current, diving so low Emrys’ wings skimmed the surface of Blackwater Bay, and pitching around the towers and spires of the Red Keep.

Neither had ever felt so alive. But it was time to return to the ground.

Arianwyn was swarmed the moment she dismounted.

The king reached her first, clapped her on the back, and told her how proud her father would be if he were there. It was meant to be a comfort, but she flinched at the words. If he were there. But he was never there. She was nearly ten years old, but she had never met Prince Daemon, or even received a message from him.

Fortunately, the queen noticed her discomfort and subtly pushed past her husband to embrace her. “You were brilliant, Aria,” Alicent said. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Not bad at all.” Aegon, to her surprise, had also approached. He smiled at her. “Might even call it good.”

Arianwyn rolled her eyes. “How generous of you.”

He smirked. “I’m known to be sincere on rare occasions.”

She didn’t have a chance to snap back at him before she was lifted into the air and spun around. Ser Gerold held her close to his chest, and she swore she heard tears in his voice. “A dragon riding Royce! Who could have ever guessed? Oh, if only your mother could see this.”

“Would she be happy?” Arianwyn was suddenly gripped with fear that her mother would disapprove of her riding Emrys. Perhaps it was too far from Royce tradition for the late Lady of Runestone to tolerate.

Gerold lifted her so she could look directly into his dark gray eyes. “If your mother saw you now…” He really was crying now, but he smiled. “She would be so happy, Aria. She would be so thrilled that she might even ask to ride Emrys herself.”

Never able to resist his smile, Arianwyn smiled back. “Emrys isn’t quite large enough for two right now. But I would take her the moment he was.”

He finally set her down, his eyes flicking away for a moment. “I’m so proud of you, Aria. But I think there’s someone who also wants to say so.” With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around.

Aemond was standing precisely where he was when Emrys had taken flight. He held his hands behind his back and looked away when Arianwyn met his gaze.

She had to push through more admirers – her guards, the Small Council, and other adults she couldn’t recall the names of. But they didn’t matter right now.

Yet when she stopped in front of Aemond, she didn’t know what to say. Talking about her flight might make him feel bad, but she so badly wanted to share her joy with him. Impulsively, she threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged him.

After a moment, he hugged her back.

“You’re amazing, Aria,” he whispered.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulders. “You are, too.”

Aemond laughed almost disdainfully. Arianwyn held him tighter. “It’s true! One day, you will have a dragon, and I know you will be the fiercest rider our family has ever seen. Then, we can fly together, you and me.”

He let out a shaking breath but held her tighter, too. She could hear the faint smile in his voice. “You and me, Aria. Forever.”

“Forever.”

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