#Sorry for the delay in posting these I just wanted to make sure all of these looked like they were going to work for everyone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whorekneecentral · 4 months

Text

The Night Before Christmas

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Warnings: snow storms, delayed flights, slight disappointment, mention of a christmas miracle, hitchhiking - don't worry andrea is there for adult supervision, incorrect ski terms and whatnot - idk I don't ski, old ladies love joris, fear of flying/small planes, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, cuddles in bed.

Word Count: 2,225

Author's Note: so sorry for the delay in posting this, I've been in a bit of a slump lately and im trying to get back on schedule with the posting, bare with me lmao

merry smutmas series

A massive snow storm delays Charles’ flight home for the holidays and you both begin to give up hope but a Christmas miracle occurs.

Christmas was a bit of a mess this year.

December 24th and Charles Leclerc was stranded in Italy with Andrea and Joris. Charles had gone because he had a Christmas event to do with Ferrari, Joris and Andrea had accompanied him but they decided to go up north and go skiing for the remainder of the week.

They hadn't planned to push it so close to Christmas and then the snow came down; the stupid snow which blocked the roads and left them stranded in the mountains of Italy.

You were a bit disappointed when your boyfriend called to tell you that he wouldn't be able to make it home in time for Christmas. You asked him if there was anything you could do and he told you because of the snow, he wasn't exactly sure when he'd get home.

Charles could hear the disappointment in your voice, and it made him sad to know that he wasn't gonna be able to be home in time to spend Christmas with you.

It was as if Andrea could read Charles' mind; "what?"

"We have to get out of here, we need to go home."

"I know," Andrea tells him, Joris looks up from his laptop, "everything is closed, the roads, the airport, like.. we're stuck."

Charles was nothing if not determined. He made it his mission to make it home in time to spend Christmas with you - bit of a tight task considering it was 10pm on Christmas eve. Nonetheless, he and the boys rallied up - not like Joris or Andrea had a choice - and followed Charles out of the ski resort.

They made it about 2 miles down the road trudging through the snow before they finally came across a ski ranger, the man on his way down the mountain to pick up something they needed on the resort. He was kind enough to let them get in, the 3 of them squished into the back seat as the ranger drove them down. Due to the snow, it took them triple the time to go down than it took to go up but it was progress nonetheless.

Once they made it to the town, they were at crossroads again. How are they going to make it to the airport?

It was a one step at the time sort of plan, if they thought too far ahead, they'd just give up.

Joris wanders into the one place that was still open, a little bakery that was run by the older couple that lived there and they had a grandson who lived not too far off from the airport. The roads were cleared down there but they had no car.

The couple happened to be closing up for the night and on the way to their grandson's, the older woman took a liking to Joris, holding his arm as he led her over to their car.

"Charles!" Joris shouts, waving his friend over. Andrea and Charles wandering over. "Yeah?"

"This is Maria, she and her husband are on their way to grandson's, who lives like-" "He lives five minutes from the airport, let us take you."

"Are you sure?" Charles asks her, as much as he wants to get home, he wouldn't want to put a sweet old woman out of her way.

The woman pinches Charles's cheek, "yes please, I cannot leave you out in the cold. Come, come." She tells him, Andrea helps the older gentleman put all the luggage into the trunk, the 5 of them getting into the car - Charles, Joris and Andrea squished into the backseat again.

The older gentleman, Joe, was just as sweet and welcoming as his wife. They told them stories from when they moved there, how they opened their bakery and their family. As much as Charles appreciated their kind gesture, he was wondering if maybe he should have offered to drive them to the airport.

At some point, an excruciatingly long 3 hour drive - Joe drove slower than most, they made it to the airport.

Maria rolls the window down, saying goodbye to Joris. The photographer holds her hand as she calls for Charles. "Make sure you come back! And bring your girlfriend."

"We will, thank you both so much. I don't know what I can do to repay you."

"Take us to the race next year," Joe calls from next to his wife. Charles laughs, "sounds good, I'll come back and bring your passes."

The 3 of them run into the airport, the boards in front of them display only one word listed to all of the flights - canceled.

Big, bold, red letters crush Charles's heart and his chances of getting home.

Joris pats his friend's shoulder, Andrea already one step ahead of them trying to see if they were anything they could get on to make it home in time - after all, he wanted to get home to his family too.

It's an hour of Andrea bickering with the very tired and annoyed woman behind the counter before Charles joins him, asking her if there was anything they could get on to go home.

The flight to France was 2 hours, he'd manage anything at this point.

"There's one flight, a small passenger plane. I'd have to ask the pilot first."

"Please," Charles says, "I'll pay extra if I need to."

After what felt like another hour the woman finds them and tells them to follow her; she checks them in, getting their passes to them before directing them to where they'd meet the pilot for their flight.

When she said it was a small plane, Charles was expecting small but not this small.

The plane looked like those water planes you'd take from the mainland to an island - it didn't hold more than 6 people.

Charles is just clinging to his seat, counting down the minutes until he can get off that plane. He feels his ears pop, the thud as the plane meets the runway in Nice and he's thanking every god out there for that. They thank the pilot, trying to figure out if they should take the train or just drive home.

None of them have a car at the airport and thank god, it wasn't snowing.

It was Christmas morning, the airport was a madhouse and Charles didn't typically do this but he did use his F1 status to get them a rental, he signed a few autographs for the staff behind the counter and they were off again.

The sun is peeking over the Monaco pier, Andrea drove them home because Charles was too antsy to drive. They dropped him off first.

"Thank you guys, really." He says, standing on the curb with his suitcase.

"We didn't have a choice," Joris tells him jokingly, Andrea nods. "Tell y/n we said Merry Christmas."

"I will," Charles smiles, wishing his friends well before waving them off.

It was good to be home; the man made his way up to your shared apartment, the lights off as you were still sleeping - your soft snores filling his ears as he quietly made his way to the bedroom.

You're tucked away under the covers, the blanket wrapped you up and kept you warm during a lack of Charles in bed. He knew you were a deep sleeper, the fact that he had accidentally slammed the door and it hadn't woken you was sign enough.

He stripped out of his clothes, making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. At some point he thought he heard you shift, he peeked out the door way to find you still sleeping.

Charles joined you in bed shortly after, his arm snaking around your waist, the coldness from the bracelet he had on startled you. Your body responded before you could, taking a second to gather your thoughts - the fight or flight kicking in.

He presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, the smell of his cologne and toothpaste filled your surroundings. "Charles, you're home," you whispered, turning to face the man.

You couldn't fully believe it, not after his call last night, telling you that he wouldn't be making it home.

Your boyfriend smiles, kissing your forehead. "I'm here."

"How?" You mumbled, moving closer to him. Charles's hand presses to your back, rubbing the bare skin softly. "It's a long story, for another time."

You hum, not really caring for the story at the moment. All that matters is that Charles was home and he was home for Christmas. You opened your eyes slightly, peeking at your boyfriend. Both of you wore the same sleepy look - you having just woken up and Charles after a long night of traveling.

You kissed his chin, the man hummed in response. You follow the structure of his face, moving from his chin to his jaw and up to his sideburns, down his cheeks and finally to his lips. Charles pulls you flush against him, his lips holding your hostage.

It had been a long week apart and you both missed each other terribly. Andrea often says you two are like high school kids, all young and in love.

Your arms wrap over his shoulders, pulling the man on top of you. Charles settled himself between your hips. Your boyfriend pulls away from your lips, much to your dismay and finds himself moving down to your neck, along your collarbones and to your chest. Now propped up on your elbows, you watch as your boyfriend's head dips, his teeth softly grazing your stomach on his way to between your legs.

Charles glances up at you and pulls your panties to the side. He was close enough that you could feel his breath on you, your head dropping back when his tongue finally met you.

You look down at your boyfriend between your legs; the man smiling up at you as his arms hook your thighs to pull down flat on his face.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. Charles’s hand on your hip rocks you back and forth slightly, just enough that he can hear his name fall from your lips.

Your hand rests on his cheek, “I can't believe you're home.” Your eyes meet his blue ones.

“I'm right here, baby.”

You pull him back down for another kiss. Charles’ hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressed to your clit. Your back arches from the sudden touch, moaning against his lips.

Charles smiles, his heart fluttering every time knowing he’s the one that reduces you to nothing more than a whimpering mess.

“Please,” you pull on his hair, “Charles.”

“What?” He asks, rubbing circles with his thumb.

You can’t help the whimper slipping past your lips. “Fuck me, please.” You ask sweetly and how could he ever say no to you?

Charles finds himself moving to hitch your leg on his hip, lining himself up with you before pushing into you. Your back arches and he gives you a second to adjust to him before moving. You’re biting your lip so hard, you probably drew blood.

Your hand drags down his torso, pressed against his toned stomach when you speak. “You feel so good,” you whisper, knowing you can’t speak any louder.

“Yeah?” He calls, hand slipping between the two of you.

Your red nails, painted for the holidays, digging into his skin, leaving matching red marks matching the colour of your nails against his pale skin. “Fuck- please yes.”

Charles doesn’t quit; his fingers rubbing on your clit, the other hand moving your leg from his hip to rest over his shoulder. Just when his ego couldn’t get any bigger, it did. The 16 hanging off the silver chain around your neck, sitting flat against your sternum.

He can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to it, in the process pushing your leg back. The sound that left your mouth was nothing if not music to his ears.

The sudden ego boost, Charles takes his chance to ask you. “Who makes you feel this good, amour?”

You’re trying to answer him but between keeping the same position and his excruciating pace, you couldn't bring yourself to answer him.

Charles asks again. “Who makes you feel this good, amour ?”

A strangled answer slips past your swollen lips; “You, only you Charles.”

The answer satisfies his ego, his focus is making you cum. His hips hitting the back of your thighs, your boyfriend has now moved your other leg over his shoulders.

“Charles-” you call, your eyes meeting his. He can feel the way you’re clenching around him, his hand moving back to your clit.

“I know,” he hums, “me too.”

A few more sloppy thrusts and both of you fall over the edge, one after the other. Charles kisses by your ankle before letting your legs down, settling against you between your legs still.

Passing a hand through his hair, you smile at your boyfriend; his eyes all droopy and a sleepy smile on his face.

"You're here," you whispered, he nodded and his stubble scratched against your bare skin. "I'm here."

You hum quietly, the sun shining through the curtains in the room, the two of you cuddled up in each other's arms.

"Shall we open gifts?" Charles asks and you shake your head, "they're not going anywhere, let's stay in bed for a bit longer."

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your soft skin. "I like that idea."

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#merry smutmas xoxo #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smut

800 notes · View notes

anadiasmount · 2 months

Text

hello again? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: weddings and dates. feelings tested to their breaking point when one of you appears with a date. the night is young, is there still a chance to make things right even when it feels wrong?

wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: HAD SOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! this wa smeant to be posted yesterday so I'm sorry for the small delay!! i love the drama and angst but fluffy ending as promised!!🤞🏻 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

“i going to need five painkillers by the end of the night,” the bride, well, your best friend says. you laugh as you finish tucking in the last few bobby pins in her updo, making sure no flyaway or small bumps are seen, everything sleek and perfect. “i am too. or maybe many many many tequila shots, whichever is first available,” you joke.

“you should be all set!” you say cheerfully with a full smile on your face, hands resting on her shoulders as she admires your work. “it looks absolutely perfect, thank you! you’re truly a life savor i was ready to cancel the whole wedding,” your friend's eyes glimmer in relief, having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders as you did her hair. the hairstylist had to cancel the day of due to having a family emergency, but refunding her money was the least she could do.

all the bridesmaids surrounded you, complimenting the hair and most importantly the bride who could just be overall thankful and full of emotions. the photographer came in, taking individual and group pictures of everyone, and opening a bottle of champagne to start the day.

there were still a couple of hours left so you did some touch-ups on hair and makeup, assuring to add some powder to set and spray a setting mist to ensure it would last all day, also being generous with the hair spray. you changed into the olive green-toned dress and the black pumps for the evening, the dress hitting the correct angle and not interfering with you walk. a simple gold bracelet and matching earrings completed the look, walking out and earning praises from your girlfriends.

your heart began to race faster approaching the reception, suppressing any feelings away because you felt it wasn't the time. the wedding nerves were killing you but also seeing jude again was making you stress more than it shouldn't have. how he was. what he'd wear. if he was even going to be there?

with jude's schedule, it was hard to even make time for each other, being one of the main reasons for your messy breakup. your promotion to the law firm, move to spain, his recovery, media, games, and the always questioning each other's every move. it took a toll especially on you, crossing yourself every night knowing you couldn't do anything about it except long for him.

he was your every thought since then. if he missed you? how his life was going? if he also desired to get back together? as hard as it was you still felt more than love for him. the feeling in your tummy spreading as you remember the first times with him. the kiss, the date, the sex, the love, all of it.

"i've ordered your favorite, now tell me where i can help you," jude says kissing just below your ear returning from outside where he placed a call. you hand him your flashcards pulling out your notebook to read the different scenarios that match with the words.

"just so you know, before we start, i'll have you know i want something in return," jude whispers with a cheeky grin. "of course you do, what is it," you ask teasingly your arm wrapping around his shoulders waiting for his response.

"a date. i want you to go out on a date with me y/n..." jude says earning a silence from you. your nails rake against the back of his neck, "i'd love too. just so you know, depending how much you help me with determine the commitment to our first date..."

"i promise to be on my best behavior then."

"y/n! are you ready?" your friend waved her hand in the air with a confused look, you immediately snapped back into reality as you stepped out to the reception. "does everyone have their flowers? remember they go in your right hand!" the party organizer reminded you as you quickly got into line with the groomsmen.

it all happened quickly, you smiled at alex who quickly got into place arm wrapped with yours as you walked down the aisle as rehersed. the reception was absolutely beautiful. the tears, the vows, the laughter, the ceremony couldn't have been more perfect. you hated to admit but your eyes did search around for jude, and once you saw him, a sensation in you went numb.

there jude sat with a girl to his side who clearly hadn't read the dress code. placing kisses all over his hand and cheek, the love dazed in her eyes as she stared at jude. jude did reach over a few times and she giggled, making your weak heart wrench further.

jude on the other hand started to get impatient, especially with carla who wouldn't stop annoying him and trying to get his attention every few seconds. since breaking up with you he couldn't stand the PDA towards him or seeing it. jude quickly found it difficult since most of his teammates were married or in committed relationships.

it seemed like everywhere he went, there were reminders of you lingering around. the library you studied and where he took you on a desk in a quiet corner, the cafe where you'd get your morning coffee with him, even his training center, and the beranabeu where he hoped and waited you'd be there. he was miserable and driven to his breaking point.

jude began to regret bringing carla, as she got the wrong message and was all over him. the wedding you planned to go to together, where you were supposed to be his date, not her. but his stupid jealousy and talks from others were the fault he was here today. he was anticipating meeting your boyfriend or date, make the message clear he was going to be in the picture.

he hated to think of someone else when it wasn't him. it ticked him off and he knew he couldn't do anything about it because you weren't there anymore. but no one said he couldn't feel the way he felt. to hate the man who would forever make you laugh, or earn your love at the end of the day.

all those promises, the kisses, the hugs, the forever after you guys created was long gone. it hurt jude to the point where he had nightmares, not being able to sleep. it didn't help when they teased or made comments to him. or the fact a rumor went around you moved on and had someone else.

"carla, do you mind getting some drinks while i say hello to some friends?" jude kindly asks removing her hands from his chest. "anything for us jude! i'll wait for you by our table," she winks at him making jude internally cringe as she walks off.

he dabs up his friends, congratulating the groom and making small talk. "oye jude! que pasa chaval!? i didn't think you'd come," his shorter teammate brahim greeted him. "well i'm here aren't i? how are you? como estais?" jude mocked earning a chuckle from him.

all of his teammates suddenly surrounded him, laughing and discussing the plays for the game before, and the tactics for the upcoming one. jude looked around trying to look for you and carla. he fixed his suit every now and then, entranced with his friends. "who did you come with?" asked brahim, looking around for what presumably could be you.

"an old friend, her name is carla," jude winces at his friend's look. “i thought you were coming with y/n?” asks brahim earning a deep scowl from jude. “no we uh- we broke up a while ago,” jude squints his eyes, eyes finding you where you laughed loudly with your friends.

“but she’s here?”

“yeah but probably not alone,” jude retorted still convinced you were seeing someone and they were here. “what?” brahim laughs at him earning an eye roll from jude, “you can’t be serious! i’m pretty sure she’s single,” brahim says. “what are you playing at here jude?”

“nothing. i’m here for the wedding,” jude scoffs. “yeah sure you are,” brahim squints his eyes then looks around starting to walk off. “when you come to your senses, i’ll wait for you over there. remember not everything seems to be exactly as you seem jude…” he smacks his shoulders and walks off.

you’d probably been on your third glass of champagne by now, enjoying the presence with your girls as you spoke about the wedding and old throwbacks together. the speeches were made and the newly weds had their first dance already. anyone at the event center was dancing, talking, or drinking.

“i’ll be right back, i'm pissing myself,” you excuse yourself laughing at joke as you step away to do your business. you brought along your bag, washing your hands and touching your your makeup that had smudged a bit after the maid of honor speech. applying a fresh coat of lipstick and gloss you dabbed the excess off and headed outside.

you motion to your friends you we're head to the bar, them mouthing to bring shots of tequila and some peanuts to eat. “i don’t think we’ve met before,” a strange voice says behind you, you turn slowly, feeling your chest sink deeper as you place a small smile. “i'm carla,” the girl introduced herself, watching as you hesitated taking her hand.

“i feel like i’ve seen you around somewhere, i just can’t put a finger to it. you know huge town but small circle of friends, i was invited last minute to the wedding so,” carla spoke falsely making you want to walk out the conversation. you nodded along not really caring and wanting to go back. part of you hated the way you were treating her, but it was all the jealousy talking. she had done nothing to you besides show up here with him.

“i’m sorry but my friends are waiting for me,” you apologize letting the bar tender know where you were seated. you grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and standing up, grabbing your bag and walked away. “leaving so soon? i was hoping we could talk,” she approaches you again making you turn again but this time a bit agitated since you were catching on to what she was doing.

“like i said, my friends are waiting for me,” you shrug nonchalantly seeing her cock her head to the said and look you up and down. “well i didn’t catch your name,” she sarcastically says, the anger building in you slowly as she spoke and wanted to rub onto your face who she was here with.

“i’m y/n, but i feel like you know that already.”

“oh you’re the ex-girlfriend!” the girl enhanced the oh, with a fake smile. rage burned in your veins, needing to have resistance before you put her in her place. she had been on it the whole night, and she began to test your limits now.

“you must be the new girlfriend!” you returned the fake smile and took a huge sip of the champagne. “almost couldn’t tell…” you shrugged looking for an escape route but landing eyes with the man you avoided the whole night. his mouth agape and wide eyes.

he wore a black suit and white button up, leaving three buttons undone, hair styled and a fancy watch adorning his wrist. you felt tugged into the eye contact, needing and wanting to be the one next to him tonight. but instead here you were, giving your attention to the person you hated most.

your jaw clenched, turning your attention to your glass where you swirled the drink. “it’s a shame you guys didn’t work, but don’t worry! i’ll take better care of him,” she snarled. “jude spoke so much of you, honestly don’t see anything fascinating about you. have a goodnight.”

you downed the drink in one go, feeling the burn in your throat as you placed the glass onto the empty table. jude frowned at your state, still overly confused and waiting for your date to appear. then it all clicked in his head, you didn’t bring anyone, you didn’t bring a date. the jealousy and anger disappearing in him slowly as he watched you sit down and sigh covering your head in your hands.

“what did you say to her?” he questioned his date, seeing a smirk appear on her lips. jude turned back to you where you looked around in a trance, knowing immediately you felt the anxiety in you.

“what had to be said. it’s all done.”

“what’s done? what are you doing?” jude spit out dragging her to an empty hall where she just chuckled. “i told her what needed to be said. closed a chapter and now we’re starting a new one,” carla spoke crossing her arms. “i brought you here as a companion, not as my girlfriend or anything more. i think you’re getting the wrong message here,” jude said shaking his head.

“what do you mean jude?”

“i never asked you to do that, carla. you had no right to do that. i brought you here as a companion, not my girlfriend or anything else,” jude makes it clear to her seeing confusion flash into her eyes, now beaming with embarrassment. “i don't get it jude?”

“that i don’t intend to start a relationship with you. i’m sorry if i have given that impression but i can’t. what did you say to her?" jude demands his tone going softly as he walks towards her. "i thought i had said what needed to be said so we could finally be together!"

"y/n is too busy with herself. she got herself a promotion and is focused on her studies! she can't give you what you want and ask for jude! she's nothing compared to me," carla points to herself as she speaks all mumbled.

"and you can? what you did just now, what impression does that give to me carla? the way you're speaking about someone who you don't know, and never will?" jude defends you, deeming the need to even if you weren't there. she opens her mouth to speak but closes it immediately, knowing nothing could fix the situation. "i'm sorry-"

"save it. we both know you don't mean it," jude scoffs and walks off, back into the reception where you're nowhere to be found. he wandered off for a few minutes looking for you, even asking some people around him and they all gave him the same response that they hadn't seen you.

you had walked off back to your friends after a mini breakdown and questioning your life. beginning to blame yourself for everything when it shouldn't. it was both your faults but yet it hurt to hear her say nothing was fascinating about you. you shouldn't have let her words get to heart but what if they were true?

what if you were stuck in your own world and couldn't bother to make time for him? what if you didn't give enough attention especially when he most needed it? to be worried only in the moment and not live your life to its fullest? a couple shots and dancing later you found yourself seated at your table alone, watching you friends dance without their heels drunkly laughing off.

"where are you even going?" jude asks you, seeing how you packed every item away into suitcases. "clearly far way from you. i can't stand it anymore, you're never here jude!" you yell throwing your hand sin the air.

"you're never here and i'm tired of it jude. it's always some bullshit excuse and if you truly cared you'd see that but you don't. i'm not wanted here so the faster i leave, the better for us," you say zipping up the final case.

"you're being ridiculous," jude laughs in disbelief, approaching you but you warn him to not get near you. "this is what i mean! i can hardly recognize you nowadays! i'm done jude. done," you say loud and clear.

"leave. i never needed you anyway." you turn around facing him, a flash of regret filling in his eyes as you look at him in pure disbelief. "you did, or you wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for me."

you share your head at the memory, heading to the empty bar to return the empty glasses, feeling the need to clean up the mess and grab a small snack and final glass of champagne walking out to the outdoor balcony for a breath of air. "y/n?" you look up, not feeling sleepy or drunk anymore, standing up straight as jude approaches you.

was it possible to feel your heart shatter into millions of pieces over and over again? to feel the pit of your stomach turn at the sight of your ex-boyfriend? to feel utter pain when it was supposed to be a happy day? "jude..." you croak, looking away and biting the inside of your cheek.

he rests his forearm on the bar railing looking at you, trying to read you as you looked forward. silence fell upon you, but there was no denying that your hearts began to sprint faster at the closeness of the two of you. "did you need something?" you softly ask, taking a sip of the drink. "i wanted to talk," jude states firmly.

"are you sure? i don't think your girlfriend would like that," you attempt to joke but it earns you a frown from jude who just shakes his head. "i'm not sure she would, i'll just leave this here and go-" you try to walk away but he stops you, softly gripping your wrist refusing to let you go.

"she's not my girlfriend, she also left a while ago..." jude says, seeing you finally lock eyes with his. a deep laugh rumbles from his throat a painful smile stretching along his adorned face, "my first reaction would've been that too, if you had shown up here with someone else."

"i don't get it, why are you here then?" you feel the need to ask, get some sort of answer to relieve the pang in your chest. "why bother being here when you still brought her."

"because i was jealous, there i said it. i was so convinced you'd show up with someone who wasn't me. that i'd have to face reality and finally accept we're not longer together. that i can't call you mine anymore..." jude confesses, making your eyes glisten with new tears again.

"do you not know how it feels? to still be stuck in the past and longing for hope that one day you'll come back to me? having to face everyday with you on my mind anywhere i go? to have vivid dreams of you?" jude frowns, his once rough voice turning delicate as he brought a hand wiped your tears. "i can't stand it anymore."

"i thought this whole time before coming here, you were with someone else. everyone told me you had moved on and looked in a better place and all i could feel was bitterness. it wasn't fair, but i was so wrong y/n. so wrong to the point where i brought someone who could never love me like you did..." jude wiped his own tears away at the state of you.

you felt like you couldn't move, stuck in the same place as you heard his voice. the voice that one day soothed you to sleep, to calm you down, to look forward to at the end of the day. was it possible to feel this emotionless? to have no more tears left to cry? a sob emerged you, covering your face and attempting to control your breaths.

"who said i stopped? i may have an idea of what you feel like, let's be real. i don't know quite frankly who told you i moved on, but that's all lies. i can't do that knowing i still feel the same i did when i first met you," you sniffle taking a gulp and feeling the knot in your throat. "i thought i was fine and could handle seeing you, but my oh my was i incorrect... to see her with you, for her to come up to me and speak the way she did? for a second i thought 'where is my jude'?"

"i'm right here..."jude grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart, bringing it up to his jaw and resting his face on your palm. "don't you see it though? we're back where we ended off. do you possibly think we're good for each other when it seems like we're only hurting?" you question him.

"i've lived everyday thinking i wasn't enough or that i couldn't give you what you wanted jude," you shook your head in disappointment, "i want to fix things i do, but i'm scared that if we do this again, we're going to end up back here confessing our wrongs and tears. the way i felt the day we broke up doesn't compare to now..." you say, jude going quiet and looking down in defeat.

"i miss you so much jude," you choked on your own words, a fresh wave of tears overpowered the dry ones, holding onto jude upper arms as he leaned down and engulfed you into a deep hug. jude repeatedly kissed your head, choking on his own sobs as he repeated how much he missed you.

"i hope you know i'm still so madly in love with you y/n. i've never felt this way for anyone and it seems like its meant for you and you only,"j jude says making you giggle. "i'm serious pretty girl. i'm serious about you and us. i always was and i made the mistake of letting you go once, but i'm not here to do that again. i'm here to grant all of the promises we made," jude holds your face, seeing your red eyes and slightly smudged makeup, still more beautiful than ever.

"all of them?"

"every single one of them."

"i feel like we should talk more about it," you insist, seeing jude nod and agreeing with you. he tightens his grips on you waist leaning further down closer to you. "yes we do and we will, but right now i want to kiss you..." he asks and you grant. he sucks in a breath lips devouring yours after months, holding and kissing you how you liked and deserved.

you held onto his suit, tiptoeing up and deepening the kiss further, being able to taste his minty whisky scent. "come with me. we won't talk about everything tonight but i really just want to be here with you," jude says, sitting down on a small couch laid outside. you immediately follow and cuddle into him like you used to. you place a final peck onto his lips. "wait my drink-" jude holds your waist giving you a look with a playful smile.

"i think that's enough for tonight."

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fanfic #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football imagine #football x y/n

539 notes · View notes

exitpursuedbyavulcan · 11 months

Text

Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious IV

You were never setting foot in the library again.

Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.

Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?

You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.

Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.

The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.

I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.

By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.

But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.

On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.

She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.

It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?

Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.

No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.

I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.

She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?

Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.

‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’

Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.

But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.

Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.

I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.

I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.

The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.

Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.

Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.

But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.

Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.

And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?

Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…

But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.

I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.

Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.

I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.

Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.

By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?

You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.

Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?

Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?

Were you really wishing that he had?

You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.

And if you went to him just after reading what you did…

Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.

The next several days of entries were almost identical.

Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.

Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.

Before joining you.

When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.

You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).

But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.

He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.

Aemond knew you. Even then.

And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.

The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.

But really?

As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.

You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.

You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.

And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.

In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.

More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.

So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.

The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year

Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!

But… damn him. It is quite educational.

Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.

A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?

But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.

It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.

And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.

I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…

There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.

…the breasts, and lower.

I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.

There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.

When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.

I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.

She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.

Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.

When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.

You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.

And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.

You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…

I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.

It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.

I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.

But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.

Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.

Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…

She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.

I’ll be whatever she wants.

Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.

But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.

I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.

When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.

Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.

I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.

Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.

If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?

I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.

At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.

You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.

With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.

The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.

Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?

Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.

After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.

In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.

It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.

So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.

The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.

Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.

The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.

Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.

When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!

I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.

But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.

Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.

You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.

Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.

When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.

Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.

But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?

I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.

Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.

As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?

I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.

But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!

I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.

For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.

The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.

But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.

There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.

I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.

You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.

‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’

She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.

While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.

If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.

She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.

What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.

Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.

Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.

I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.

But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.

There was another small patch of angry scribbles.

I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.

She did not like the kissing.

When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.

So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.

And she asked, ‘Why?’

I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.

I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.

Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.

It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.

But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.

She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.

I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.

When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.

You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.

‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’

There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.

She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.

It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.

I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.

I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.

Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!

Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.

And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.

But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.

I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.

I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.

In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.

To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.

Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.

Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.

I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.

I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.

Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.

But I didn’t get to do any of that.

She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.

The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.

So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.

And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’

But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.

I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.

It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.

I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.

Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.

I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.

Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.

As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.

He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.

What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’

Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’

You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.

So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.

It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.

You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.

Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.

Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.

So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.

The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year

I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.

I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.

I do not think this is going to work.

Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.

Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.

She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!

‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’

She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.

At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.

My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.

It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.

She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.

After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.

Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.

Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.

You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.

In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.

It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.

An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.

When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.

Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.

On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.

I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.

I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.

They are almost as beautiful as her.

The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.

I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.

You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.

So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’

Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.

The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year

I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.

All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.

You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.

Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.

Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.

Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.

If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.

After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.

So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.

She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.

I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.

Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!

And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.

‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.

It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.

I apologised again for upsetting her and left.

At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.

You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.

‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’

I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.

And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.

She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.

After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!

It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.

She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.

‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’

Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.

You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.

It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.

What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?

No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?

Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.

‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’

You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’

The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year

I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.

We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.

Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.

Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.

But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.

It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.

I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.

I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.

First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.

A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.

I know what to do. I just pray she understands.

“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.

You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.

Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.

Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.

No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.

The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.

The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.

It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.

You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.

But then you heard footsteps approaching.

Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.

There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.

Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.

He was not wearing his eyepatch.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”

You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”

When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.

But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.

With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”

1K notes · View notes

sellenite · 3 months

Text

cherry blossoms 04 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: fingering (f! receiving), squirting, praise kink (lightly), friends to lovers word count: 3.5K notes: hi everyone <3 if you have been following this little series I am so sorry for the insane delay in posts, I have been struggling with my health recently and it took me a lot longer to write this than I hoped! but I am feeling better now and I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed reading. as always, thank you so, so very much for any and all likes, reblogs and/or comments 🥲🫶 MDNI | 18+

The night didn’t go the way you had expected it to, in all honesty. You thought you would probably kiss him, tentatively at first, and maybe eventually with a little tongue. You assumed he would be shy, that you may have to guide his hands to your body and encourage him to feel you under his palms. You had fantasized about going farther, giving him head, but you didn’t think you would actually get the chance to. And the last thing you expected was to find yourself in the position you were in now, with Choso practically begging you to let him return the favor. He wasn’t quite sure how to please you yet, but he was determined to try. And he was not about to pass up the opportunity to show his gratitude to you, not after you had just given him the gift of your mouth. You could see the adoration and lust in his deep purple eyes as he gazed at you, and you couldn’t help but give in.

“Well, maybe I could show you first if you want,” you offered as you were seated on his lap, thighs straddling his as you ran the tip of your finger up the hem of his t-shirt. “I could teach you what I like, and then you could try it?” Your gaze met his, gauging his reaction. You didn’t want to make him feel too overwhelmed too fast. Choso had gone from never kissing a girl to having his first sexual experience in the span of a few hours, and you were nervous that taking your clothes off for him might just do him in. But Choso was determined and nodded eagerly in response to your suggestion.

“Yeah, teach me… I want to know how to please you,” Choso said, his voice huskier. His lips parted ever so slightly as he looked at you, taking in your face—the soft kindness of your eyes, the slight flush of your cheeks, and your pretty lips. He wondered if you could feel how devoted he was to you at this moment, see it in his eyes how he ached to please you, to make you feel as good as you made him feel. You smiled at him softly, running a hand through his deep brown locks before pressing a lingering kiss to his parted lips.

“Do you have a mirror?” You asked him after pulling away, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes that made Choso’s brain drop straight to his dick.

After fishing through the cluttered drawers of his and Yuji’s shared bathroom, you finally procured an old dollar-store hand mirror. Choso followed you back to his living room, quiet confusion evident on his face as you instructed him to sit down with his back against the couch's armrest. You swallowed down the last bit of your nerves as you shimmied your sweatpants off, your eyes glancing over to Choso’s with a meek smile. Choso’s eyes were glued to your figure the entire time, gazing in awe as you revealed more of your bare skin to him. He was still confused about what you had planned, but it was easy enough for him to become distracted by your body. His hands found your hips tentatively as you joined him on the couch, slotting your body between his legs as you laid back against his chest. His palms smoothed down over your thighs so softly as you leaned into him, as if he may hurt you or scare you away if he put too much pressure.

“You’re so pretty like this,” you heard him murmur into your ear, more to himself than to you. He shifted behind you, perching his chin onto your shoulder to watch as his hands traced over your body, relishing the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms. “Just want to touch you everywhere.” You could feel his breath ghosting over your ear as he leaned over your back, the pressure of his hands becoming hungrier as he grew more comfortable touching you.

You laughed contentedly as you settled back into Choso’s chest, in no rush to hasten his exploration of your body. You leaned into his touch, letting your knees fall relaxed and parted into the caging of his own as his palms groped the backs of your thighs, moving closer to your ass. Choso let out something akin to a grunt as he felt all the curvy parts of you melding into his touch, felt the way your body relaxed into his, starting to open up to him. He barely even registered that he was searching for your skin with his mouth until you let out a light, shuddered moan when his tongue pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“Mmm, Choso… Are you sure you haven’t done this before,” you teased him lightly, extending your head to the side to give his lips even more access to the skin there while his hands continued to play with the shape of your body. “Never,” he slurred haphazardly against your skin, far too intrigued by your taste and feel to form any coherent response. You felt his hands sliding back up toward your hips again as his tongue worked against your neck, drunkenly enthusiastic in his efforts to consume as much of you as possible. His thumbs pushed up your hips, sliding under the elastic of your underwear before he realized that he had entered new territory. His lust-heavy eyes turned once again to gaze over your shoulder, watching the space between your thighs as his thumbs poked out from your underwear line, dangerously close to the space he wanted to see the most.

“Is this okay?” He asked you breathlessly, already worked up again from the excitement of touching you like this. You nodded against his shoulder, turning your head to look at his face, the tip of your nose brushing against his. “You can take them off if you want,” you told him softly, your eyes mirroring the same want you burning in his dark irises.

“Can I?” Choso swallowed dryly, his thumbs lightly pulling on your underwear's waistband, restlessly toying with it. He wasn’t anxious to see more of you but more so just engulfed by the privilege of being with you like this, to have the honor of you trusting him with your body. “Wanna see how pretty you are here too,” he said softly, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours as you twittered with affection. You kissed him in response, smiling against his mouth as your lips melded together, one of your hands reaching up around the back of his neck to lace your fingers through his hair.

You held each other like this for a few moments, the emotions between you soft, the slightest stirrings of a young love flitting in your stomach, like the beginning of spring. Choso’s hands tentatively began to push the waistband of your underwear down slowly enough that you could stop him if you wanted. But you didn’t, only breaking away from his lips so you could lift your hips with a smile, helping him to slide the fabric down your legs. You settled back against his chest once you were free of the garment and positioned the mirror between your parted thighs, laughing lightly to yourself at the very hands-on anatomy lesson you were about to give.

Choso’s chin was propped up on your shoulder again, wetting his lips as you angled the mirror between your thighs so he could see the reflection of your glistening heat. “Can you see okay?” You giggled as you asked him, feeling the slightest bit shy as you bared the most intimate part of your body open for him to see. Choso nodded quickly against your shoulder, suddenly feeling like his words were caught in his throat as he stared hungrily at the reflection of your pussy in the mirror. He had never seen a woman naked before, but he felt his body reacting to the sight of you almost instinctually. His cock, which had been steadily swelling up beneath his sweats, was now pressed firmly against the plush of your ass. His hands were groping longingly at your inner thighs, his fingertips just barely teasing the swell of your outer lips. You took a breath before you trailed your free hand down to yourself, parting your folds open more so Choso could see all of you. He groaned low in his throat at the sight.

“You’re beautiful… So, so beautiful.” His fingertips grazed closer to your wetness, his breath heavy next to your ear. “Want to touch you, pretty girl, please… Need to feel how soft you are.” Choso’s words were hungrier in your ear now, needier as he devoured your slick skin with his eyes. “I’ll show you how,” you told him softly before you gently took his hand in your own and guided it between your thighs.

Choso watched unblinking as you placed his middle finger on top of your clit, with your hand resting gently on top of his own as a guide. “This is the clitoris,” you said to him gently, pushing your middle finger down into his. “It feels really good when you touch it… Kind of like this,” you explained, trying to make your voice sound confident despite the way it shook from the feeling of his fingers on you.

You rubbed your finger over his to demonstrate how you would touch yourself, biting your lip when Choso mimicked the movement against your sensitive skin. He rubbed circles into your swollen bud with his calloused fingertip, the digit gliding effortlessly over your flesh from how wet you were already. His other hand gripped the plush of your thigh with vigor, holding onto it like an anchor. Choso wanted to treat you gently; you were so soft to him, so pure, he didn’t want his excitement to get the best of him, despite the way he felt every one of his senses desperate to devour you at that moment.

“Am I doing it right?” He asked you, breathing heavily next to your ear as he let your hand guide him, slowly adding pressure on his own as he became more familiar with your body. It brought him so much pride to know that he was making you feel good; he wanted to please you as much as he possibly could, do everything and anything you wanted. So he followed the cues you gave him diligently, watching the reflection of your pussy in the mirror, how the small hole at the bottom of you seemed to tighten up when he pressed a little harder.

“Uh huh, you’re doing so good for me, Cho,” you praised him sweetly, the pitch of your voice rising slightly in your effort to keep your moans in. You bit your lip harder, trying to stay quiet enough to continue to give Choso instructions, but it was getting increasingly difficult. You guided his movements for a few more moments before you removed your hand from his and let him continue at his own pace, opting instead to hold onto his forearm.

“I wanna make you feel really good,” Choso slurred against your skin as he turned to bury his face into your neck once more, sloppily sucking on your exposed skin. His fingers kept moving, dragging circles around the swell of your clit, experimentally running up and down the bump, and your hips twitched in his lap in response. A louder moan escaped your lips at the increase of sensations, and Choso groaned at your reaction. “Wanna make you sound like that again, too,” he moaned back to you with a grin, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and causing your nails to claw into his forearm. You let out a breathless laugh at his enthusiasm, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You can put your fingers inside me if you want,” you encouraged him. You pushed down on his wrist lightly to guide his movements as he turned back to look in the mirror, watching the reflection as his fingers inched towards your entrance. Choso was inexperienced, yes, but he knew enough about sex to have an idea of where you wanted him—and based on the way your hole pulsed as he touched you, he felt certain that was where you needed him most. His long middle finger dipped down your slit as he gently grazed the outside of it, and you whimpered softly.

“Right here?” Choso asked you breathlessly, circling your entrance as you moaned out your approval. You hadn’t realized how worked up you were until this moment, suddenly feeling desperate to be stuffed full of his thick fingers. And the slow pace that Choso was massaging outside of you was starting to feel agonizingly teasing. “Right there,” you echoed back to him, your nails digging into his forearm with the anticipation of being touched.

“You feel so wet… Are you always like this?” He groaned as he watched his fingers circle you, pulling away just to watch the clear fluid you leaked stick to his fingertips. “It means you’re making me feel good, Choso,” you moaned to him, grinding your core into his fingers to try and get more friction. Choso smiled to himself at your praise as the tip of his finger found your entrance once more, putting the lightest touch of pressure against the ring of muscle.

“More, Choso, please,” you begged him, and you sighed out in pleasure as he happily obliged, finally pushing his thick finger inside of you. Your body welcomed him easily, the wetness of your arousal coating his skin as he slid inside of you, moaning at the feeling of your body wrapped around him. “You’re so warm inside,” he groaned, pushing his finger into you until he had filled you up to his knuckle. You moaned at the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation partially satiating your craving for him, but not enough.

“Add another finger, Cho,” you instructed him as you started to bounce your hips against his hand gently. “And then move them in and out together, and just keep doing that.” Your voice was breathier now, more desperate as his touch got more intimate. Choso nodded over your shoulder, watching with parted lips as he pulled his finger almost entirely out of you before adding his ring finger. You whimpered as he thrust his fingers inside of you—slowly stretching you open—and your hips twitched to meet his hand.

“Like this?” Choso asked you huskily, pumping you full of his fingers as your cunt squelched and leaked around them. You moaned in approval for him as you laid your head back to rest on his shoulder, bracing your body against his broad frame. Your breath was quickening, your inner walls beginning to clench and unclench around him faster. You watched his veined forearm between your thighs, muscles rippling as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the sight only making you feel hotter as you rolled your hips to press into him.

You abandoned the mirror to bring your hand to yourself, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing circles into the bud in time with Choso’s thrusts. His grip on your thigh tightened, instinctively pulling your leg open more to watch you touch yourself. He groaned at the sight, eyes heavy-lidded as he felt your walls tighten up around his fingers even more as you rubbed circles into your clit. “Does that feel good?” Choso’s words were heavy next to your ear. You could feel his thick cock pressed into your backside, rolling his bulge into the swell of your ass unconsciously every time you writhed in his lap.

“L-love it, Cho,” your voice came out as a whine as your breathing became more labored, watching his thick fingers pump in and out of you, glistening with your arousal. “Your fingers feel so good inside of me,” you praised him, and Choso groaned behind you before attaching his lips back onto your neck, sucking more marks into the already-bruising skin. He felt utterly consumed by you, and feeling how hot and tight and wet you were around his fingers made him feel some primal kind of urge to sink his teeth into you, to taste you, to hold you, to take you. How he longed to feel those tight, wet walls wrapped around his cock. Choso felt like he could get off from the thought of it alone now that he knew just how soft and warm you were inside.

“Wanna make you cum, pretty girl, please… Wanna feel you cum on my fingers,” he slurred into your skin, moaning like he was the one being pleasured, practically whimpering into your ear. You clenched around his fingers from hearing his needy tone, your hand rubbing faster, stronger circles into your clit.

“Need you t-to curl your fingers into me a little more; can you do that for me?” You begged breathlessly between moans, hoping he could follow along without any further direction. Choso hummed in approval and you felt his fingers curling up, pushing up into your walls, drawing closer and closer each time to exactly where you needed him until he landed right on that spot inside of you. You wailed as his fingers curled into you with precision, your back arching to press further into his hand. Choso groaned at your reaction, utterly enamored with making sure you made that sound over and over again, diligently pressing up into the same spot inside of you with a fast rhythm.

“Is this the spot you like?” Choso rasped against your neck. His fingers were moving quicker and more confidently as your body began to tremble in his arms. He was quickly learning the cues your body gave him, from how your back arched into his touch, how your breathing changed, or how your nails dug harder into his forearm. Words failed you suddenly as you felt that dizzying heat inside of you rising—coil winding tighter inside of your core as you worked yourself up with Choso’s fingers—and all you could do was nod your head desperately. You reached your free hand up and back, arm bending to tighten around his neck, anchoring yourself even further to his body as he pushed you further and further towards your edge.

“Gonna cum, Choso,” you warned him breathlessly, breasts heaving as you braced your body against his. Your legs shook despite the tight hold he had on your thigh, keeping you open for him as your walls began to clench tighter and faster around his fingers. He groaned into your ear as you writhed in his lap, your ass rubbing up against his erection, the delicious friction making him feel like he was about to spill himself.

You could feel that familiar heat, but something else along with it—a sharper build that was flooding your senses with want every time the pads of his fingers massaged against the rough patch of your inner walls. But you were too pleasure-drunk and gasping in Choso’s arms to recognize it until suddenly you were crying out and gushing around his fingers. Choso kept curling his fingers into you, groaning under his breath as he watched you squirt onto his hand as whimpers slipped past your lips, chest heaving and lips parted open.

Your hips twitched in his lap, your body quivering as your brain unraveled in waves of pleasure. Choso’s hips stuttered against your body until he stopped abruptly with a deep groan against your ear, his fingers stilling inside of you while his other hand clutched tightly to your thigh. Whimpered pants left your lips as you started to come down from your orgasm, slumping back against Choso’s shoulder. “Oh my god, Choso,” you laughed breathlessly, your cheeks flushed and body still buzzing from the aftershocks of just squirting all over his fingers. “That was so good; you did so good,” you clarified enthusiastically, turning your face to give him a winded smile.

Choso’s cheeks were flushed just as much as yours, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder. He slid his fingers out of you to hold your other thigh, softly rubbing your skin as he caught his breath. “I did good?” He asked you with a boyish smile, turning his head on your shoulder to meet your eyes. You laughed giddily at his reaction, kissing his cheek affectionately. “More than good, Choso. I– don’t even think you realize how amazing that was for me,” you giggled to him, thinking of how you might possibly begin to explain the concept of squirting to him after all of this. Choso just beamed at you in response, seemingly still coming down from his own physical exertion.

“It was good for me, too,” Choso smiled sheepishly at you. It didn’t take long for all the clues to click into place about exactly how “good” it had been for him, especially once you realized that his noticeable bulge had suddenly vanished. You pressed another soft kiss to Choso’s cheek before your lips met his, tenderly and slowly. The heat of the moment had settled into a warm calm, the song of the long-forgotten movie’s ending credits rolling on in the background of the living room.

AN: omg I have been so nervous to upload this because I feel like my writing skills are so rusty 🥲 but I really hope that everyone still enjoyed this 🫶 also, if you had asked to be tagged and were not, I am so sorry! I decided not to do tags on this one because it had been so long and I wasn't sure who all was still interested 🥲

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #kamo choso smut #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso x you #kamo choso x y/n

819 notes · View notes

lil-quinnie · 3 months

Text

Pity party

part I

Warning +18 smut, jealous Eddie

Summary college au After Eddie kissed the girl in front of you, you decide you NEED to move on.

F!boy Eddie x Plus size reader

a/n: Hi guys, sorry for the delay in posting part 2. I was very insecure about the story and this year I started working as a full time teacher so time is also very limited, anyway. Sorry for any typo or mistake, i'm brazilian god danmitt. I hope you like it <3

The return to your dorm was humiliating, you tried to explain everything that had happened amid sobs and inaudible words, Steve tried to support most of your weight in his arms as he guided you safely to your room. The boy tried to comfort you the whole way, even though he knew what his best friend had done would be difficult to reverse.

With the promise of a call he left the room and disappeared down the crowded halls of the girls' dormitory.

11am

you woke up to an excited call from Robin and Steve, talking about a party that was going to happen that night and how it would be the perfect opportunity for you to try to get a certain metalhead out of your head.

"so, there will be this band and I'm sure one of the members will be your type...I promise" Steve said without thinking, receiving an elbow in the ribs from his best friend "dingus" Robin said rolling her eyes "We pick you up at 8?" the girl asked hopefully.

Even though you didn't want to interact with a lot of people, you agreed that staying in bed wouldn't solve your problem. "Yeah, okay, I'll be ready at 8, bye, see you guys"

19pm

One last check in the mirror before hearing Steve's horn followed by Robin's loud laughter.

You could already see the number of people in the frat garden, indicating that the party was packed. "It's harder to find him this way" you thought , at the same time Steve squeezed your leg, checking if everything was ok.

The blue lights of the crowded living room hurt your eyes, the cigarette smoke turned into fog on the floor of the house, making those lights refract 10 times stronger back at your eyes. Nancy already had a drink for you in her hand because Robin had already told her everything, welcoming you with a smile and a hug as always.

When she let you go, the girl said just so you could hear "Eddie is looking for you”, causing you to pour the cheap liquid from the cup down your throat in one go.

On the other side of the house, the metalhead was negotiating his sales, even though it was a good day and he had sold almost everything he had brought, Eddie couldn't change the uncomfortable expression on his face.

His mind always brought back the vision of you and Steve hugging, or holding hands, hell even your schedule Steve knew and he didn't, the green bug of jealousy spent all day on his shoulder, blowing fears into his ear that he had been trying to keep away for decades.

Eddie was hustling around the party, looking for potential clients and for you. He saw Robin at the party so of course you were here too.

Some people stopped him to talk, some girls offering themselves as payment (it was no longer new to him), others trying to flirt without it being so obvious, a normal night if you were Eddie Munson.

While finishing a sale he heard your laugh, causing him to turn his entire body towards the origin of the sound, "Fuck" he thought.

Your cleavage revealed the soft mounds of your breasts, making his face burn with jealousy at the thought of anyone else being able to see what should be just his. “Harrington, of course,” he huffed as he put the crumpled bills in his pocket watching Steve making you laugh.

Eddie's eyes were shining in a purple light, never leaving your face, moving from your cleavage to your eyes and your lips, the tip of his tongue insisted on leaving his pink lip moist and shining, delicious it looked.

Eddie didn't understand what was happening, why his heart raced every time you smiled at someone else or why there was a knot in his stomach every time Steve pulled you closer, or touched your thigh while telling you a story as if you were his, but you weren't, right?

Steve excused himself from a ‘lil crown and threw himself on the old sofa next to you "hi" he said, you responded in the same tone with a shy smile, looking at each other for a while, it could be alcohol or even joints but damn! Steve was really handsome and you’re pretty sure he thinks the same about you.

Soon everybody went to fill their glasses or smoke outside, except Robin who danced with Vickie as if she didn't have early classes tomorrow, leaving you and Steve in your own bubble.

What made Eddie most angry was the fact that you seemed so comfortable with Steve, in the way he couldn't make you feel, he thought. Eddie could never make you stay close to him among a lot of people, you always found an excuse to go to the dorm or any empty place while with Steve... "fucking hell" he exclaimed, while passing the bag with the customer's product.

Eddie needed something stronger than weed if he wanted to swallow all of his wounded ego to get to you, and he couldn't do it dry. He poured the glass full of whiskey and downed it in two sips, letting a few drops of the golden liquid run down the corner of his mouth wiping it with the back of his hand, determined not to let anything pave the way to you.

You couldn't help the smile that widened every time he got closer. The rosy cheeks showed that Eddie had been drinking, a few curls of hair coming out of his low bun and that smile of someone who wants to be confident even though they're scared...

How could you be mad at him? how you could cut him out of your life while he gave you that half smile he only gave when he was embarrassed, which was rare for a guy like him.

When Steve's fingers intertwined with yours, Eddie decided he had had enough of that and with his double shot of whiskey, he swallowed all his pride to go talk to you.

His hands in his jacket pocket only showed how uncomfortable he was, even more so after the disaster that happened last night, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to talk to you again before the night ended.

On the other side, you and Steve didn't notice as the metalhead approached, still lost in your own world, exchanging too many small caresses and smiles.

He could hear your voice clearly, he even swore he could already smell the moisturizer that covered your skin, so close that he could feel you under his fingerprints.

He cleared his throat trying to get the attention of the two sitting on the sofa, when he realized that he was unsuccessful, he kicked Steve's Nike, who quickly turned his head, letting a HA! to escape from his lips going together with his hands clapping in the air "Munson" he smiled sarcastically, "Harrington" Eddie raised his browns and then turned around for you "can we talk?"

"I don't know, can we?" you said, getting up from the sofa and pulling Steve with you, who protectively wrapped his arm around your waist, hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, "I have nothing to talk to you right now, Eddie", you said while broking away from Steve's hug, signaling him to lead the way away from there.

"Please, let me talk to you", but before he could hold you, you turned and snapped

"Isn't there anyone to save you again Eddie? That's why you're coming after me?",

Steve was amused by the situation, it wasn't often that he managed to get under Eddie's skin, so he planned to enjoy it.

"Follow my lead" he said with that smirk on his face.

Steve started to dance with you innocently but noticing the other man's gaze, he decided to be bold.. He had your back pressed against his hairy chest as you danced together to the beat of the music.

One of his hands held your hips against his crotch, while the other danced down your body side, stopping at your hip and pulling you closer against the tent that was beginning to form in the boy's tight jeans.

Eddie watched everything from the other side of the room, his eyes following every slow movement your body made, burning holes in the uncovered skin of your cleavage.

Every time Steve pressed his body against yours, Eddie looked away and sawed his fists, causing Steve to proudly smile.

Steve's eyes were locked with eddies while his mouth timidly explored the skin of your shoulder and neck, causing goosebumps that only a metalhead had caused to this day, when he realized that you didn't stop him, he was braver, leaving love bites on the exposed skin.

Eddie noticed when your thighs pressed together, tighter every time Steve's mouth came close to yours.

Eddie's heart missed the beat, it felt like hours of torture having to watch you like that with someone else, with his best friend on top of that.

Even though you understood the game Steve was playing, you decided to let yourself go and enjoy the little attention you rarely received. Seeing Eddie's reaction, watching each micro expression that appeared on his face was satisfying, with his knurled eyebrows and wrinkled nose you know that he was feeling the same thing you felt when he did the same in front of you.

"I need to go to the bathroom, angel. Do you want me to fill your cup?" Steve whispered in your ear and you just nodded, letting Steve go with a smile.

This was Eddie's chance to talk to you once and for all, and he no longer had the patience to put up with you being a brat.

He knew that you would go outside, that you would light a cigarette and that you would wait for Harrington until he arrived with another alcohol bomb, he also knew that if he didn't do anything, he would lose you forever.

The mild temperature due to the late hour of the morning itched your exposed skin, causing goosebumps while you unsuccessfully tried to light your cigarette, too frustrated with everything around you to really pay attention to your surroundings.

“Here” you heard a husky voice coming from near the pool house “let me help you”.

The man approached slowly, the darkness using her cloak to cover your lover's face, only making you realize it was him, by fate's trap, when it was too late.

“I’m good, Edward. Thank you very much” you replied,

"What the hell is all that? What the fuck did I do to make you like this, Huh?” Eddie held your arms tightly, forcing you to look at him, you saw the anxiety and confusion that showed in his eyes, which caused an immeasurable pleasure to ignite in the pit of your stomach as you pressed his buttons more and more.

"What do you think I am Eddie? Just a toy when you don't have one of those dumb girls to fuck?" you spat at him with no mercy "and what do you think you are for him right now?" he said dryly, "More than I ever was to you, right?" he looks… hurt.

“Are you even listening to yourself? you’re sounding delusional.” he said letting your arm go.

“Oh! Poor Munson, where's Heather? giving a blowjob to some basketball player before ending up in your bed?" you cringed at the words that should have stayed in your head, giving up on the cigarette and making your way out the conversation.

“WOW!! Who stuck a stick up your ass, cutie? Was it Stevie?” He whispered in your ear, making you pull your arm free from Eddie's grip, leaving the mark of your five fingers on the boy's rosy cheek.

“Ed… I.. I'm"

"Shut up, just shut the heck up ok?! I'm done with you” he said harshly, making you scared and before you could say something, apologize or anything, Eddie was pulling you inside the pool house.

You could feel the beats of the muffled music on the cold wall that Eddie pressed your body against.

"Eddie, I'm sorry" you pleaded, almost begging, he pinch the bridge of his nose shaking his head in disbelief “let’s talk, please” you pleaded one more time.

"Of course sweetheart, NOW you wanna talk.” he gave you some space, sitting across the room, “just tell me why you're treating me like shit and I'll leave you, forever even.”

"Eddie, you... you” you tried to explain to him but the words just went away.

“I’m what babe? tell me what I did” his voice was almost failing.

“You kissed her in front of me" you said through sobs “she said horrible things about me…and you did nothing about it” your tears betrayed you, rolling through your pale face, Eddie could see how big the fleek was on your poor heart.

The muffled sound of the party was the only thing that echoed inside that room, that and the heavy breathing of the man who stared at you, as if he had discovered some absurd secret.

“I went after you, I screamed your name several times through those damn corridors…I know you heard me” you could feel the sad tone behind the guy's bad boy pose.

He moved closer to you, entering your space, his contorted face reflected how painful the memory was. “and I found you, oh boy i found you! In the arms of MY best friend” he returned to the opposite side of the room and continued in silence, lighting his cigarette, the orange light from the lighter flame making Eddie's teary eyes shine in the darkness of the pool room.

“Eddie…what are you talking about?” You said with your voice still shaking, not paying much attention to what was said but to your best friend's sad eyes, “YOU kissed another girl in front of me, after we had sex! you asshole.”

Eddie stood up once again this time angrily shouting back at you “I DIDN’T FUCKING KISS HER”.

His hands caged you against the wall, against his body. He looked straight into your face, with his breathing still labored he whispered “and we didn't have sex”.

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, the tension could be cut with a knife. His eyes traveled between your eyes and your lips, waiting for a minute of weakness, any sign from you so he could have you the way he'd been wanting since the night you ran away from his dorm.

Your hands shyly touched Eddie's face, bringing the boy's attention to stillness. You held his face firmly and still so unsure “I'm sorry Eds” you said running your fingers over the welts that marked his cheek.

Eddie pressed your bodies closer and held your hand against his cheek, taking advantage of the gap to connect your lips. The kiss started lightly, Eddie enjoyed every crumb you gave him, his tongue explored your mouth hungrily, trying to feel all your flavor, his thin fingers pressed the flesh of your waist, roaming freely over your abdomen, making your legs go limp “Eddie…” you sighed.

"what?" He said, moving his lips down your neck, following the same path that Steve had taken earlier, leaving bigger marks on your skin. He wanted everyone to know that you were his and no one else’s.

He kissed your shoulder as he ran his hand up your thigh, past the hem of your skirt.

Noticing the lack of response, it's clear that teasing you was the boy's only option. “Did the cat get your tongue, sweetie?” His hands slowly felt your hips at the same time he pushed your legs apart with his knee and forced his leg between yours. He could feel how hot your pussy was from the heat that passed through his thigh “you seemed pretty brave when you were rubbing your ass against Stevie” he pressed his knee against your most sensitive part, gently brushing against your clit.

“I already told you Eddie, Steve and I are just friends” you said again, trying your best not to straddle your best friend’s thigh.

The boy finished taking off your shirt, exploring your breasts as he had done several other times. Eddie pinched and pulled your nipples, making the man feel you wet through your panties. He laughed in a mocking tone “look at you, you barely got off my best friend and you’re already here, all wet for me” his hands forced your movements, making you slowly ride his thigh “I saw your thighs pressing together, you know?” he said, increasing the intensity of the pace at which he guided you.

“Do you like being treated like a slut?” Eddie said taking you off his lap, in one movement he turned you around, face pressed against the old window covered in graffiti, it was too blurry to see you inside but depending on the angle you could see the people outside. “Did you like the feel of Steve’s dick rubbing against your ass?” he said as he pressed his own erection against you, making sure you felt every inch of him against the soft skin of your ass. “I know you liked it baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed” he patronizes you more and more.

With the panties around your ankle, Eddie adjusted your hips the way he wanted, brushing your entire pussy with the pink head of his cock.

"Are you sure?" he asked, without any malice or malice tone, you were already drunk on cock, just nodding your consent. “Words darling, use your words” “please Eddie, I need you” his voice came out more shrill than you wanted, showing his desperation.

In just one thrust, Eddie's entire cock slowly entered your tight pussy, “fuck…so thick” you moaned, not knowing if it was pain or pleasure, receiving sweet prayers from the man who filled you “shh…I know darling, It will soon be so delicious, I promise you” or “good girl, taking it all”, his words made you increasingly wet, making his back and forth movements easier.

“Fuck Eddie, more...I need more, please” you leaned against the window frame, managing to see Steve's confused features through the graffiti window, as he looked for you around the pool, not going unnoticed by Eddie either.

The man pushed into you harder and harder, your hands holding tight on the old wood making it shake. “Hmm… fucking tight, darling” he continued to fuck you, with one hand on your waist holding you in the position he needed and the other tangled in your hair, forcing you to look out the window, to look Steve.

"Eddie please" you begged, he could feel the adrenaline making his voice lower a few tones, every time Steve's eyes passed over you, Eddie could feel your pussy throb and squeeze his dick. “Make me cum Eds, please” you almost cried.

The large hand that held your head against the window ran down your entire body to where you needed it most. He fucked your pussy, changing the angle to hit your sweet spot while slowly massaging your citrices circularly, eliciting from you the most maddening moans Eddie had ever heard... "oh... Eddie I'm going to cum, fuck I'm going to cum " "fuck that pussy, please eddie" "Fill me, I want to feel you filling me Eddie", and Steve.

With his gaze fixed on his best friend, Eddie filled your pussy with his cum, not stopping pumping until the last drop of cum entered you. He helped you straighten up, bringing your back against his covered chest.

He kissed his neck while whispering how hot you were and how you were his and only his, leaving your breasts exposed against the window. His malicious smile began to make you suspicious of the boy's true intentions.

After a few minutes of recovering, you decided to get dressed again. Her panties on one side, her t-shirt rolled up on the floor and her skirt hanging from the window.

Your fingers pulled at the fabric of your skirt, revealing a large hole in the window where Steve stared at you and Eddie, while squeezing his erection through his pants. The boy's pink cheeks didn't bring you clarity, was that shame or lust?

Eddie’s hands went around you in a hug, resting his head on your shoulder “I told you he had a crush on you,” he kissed your cheek before walking away, opening the little door to the pool house “oh! Yeah and I'm sorry, I was really jealous." leaving you high and dry watching him go after his friend.

Taglist ~ dumblittlebunbun pettydonuts kerst666 emma77645 darknesseddiem tlclick73 the-fairy-anon mygirlchaos d4rk4ng3l86 corygshitilike madi-is-kinda-lame munsongirl97 alone-but-never themusingofagothicsoul foreveranexpatsposts anaibis laricebabe she-collects-smut chronicles-of-koystee

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #college!eddie #eddie au #90s!Eddie #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson stranger things

346 notes · View notes

forcemeanakin · 6 months

Text

𝗙𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 ('𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗱) - 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Age gap !!! Infidelity kink !!! (you’ve been warned, so if you do not agree pls leave because I’ll delete any hateful comments about this) Actual cheating. Dirty talk, teasing and sex in a public space, voyeurism, praising kink, bit of degrading, handjob (m and f receiving), oral sex (f receiving). Mentions of an unhappy relationship/divorce/troubled marriage.

Pairing: dilf!Anakin Skywalker x female!reader.

Series Summary: Luke takes you home for Life’s Day. On the edge of giving up on you two, Skywalker manages to light up a fire inside of you again. Problem is… wrong Skywalker.

Part One - Part Two

Part Three Summary: How could Mr. Skywalker resist such a pretty little thing like yourself when you come into his workshop with dessert?

Word count: 4.1 K.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD, english is my second language, so please be gentle. If there are any mistakes, pls let me know in private so I can correct them, thanks :) Also I have a serious issue between differentiating “in” and “on” situations, so bare with me lmao.

Thank you so much for the comments in my last post! Your excitement makes me want to write even more :) seriously thank you! And I'm sorry if I forgot to tag someone, pls let me know if I missed you!

“You missed dessert.”

It took Anakin a second to realize that he wasn’t delusional, that your voice wasn’t a product of his imagination.

You were here, in his workshop.

With actual pie.

“Shouldn't you be upstairs, Y/n? It 's pretty late.” Anakin spoke without disconnecting his attention from the welding happening in his project.

You delayed your response, walking towards him and placing the plate on the counter, sliding it to him. Elbows on the surface, you supported your head on your knuckles, widening your eyes in innocence in case he indulged in looking up.

“I could ask that as well.” You got closer, taking a spot at his left side to admire the precision in which he was attaching cables. “Life Day's morning is tomorrow, we should be up pretty early. We’re also going skating.”

Anakin scrunched his face like he had forgotten about it and he was not eagerly expecting the trip.

“You can’t not go, it’s our last day here.” You murmured with a velvety voice, sending goosebumps through his spine.

“I’ve seen that fucking lake enough for a lifetime. I’m sure I won’t miss much.” He stuck his tongue out, inching his head forward to appreciate his manual work better.

“You’ll miss me.”

Anakin, having everything on the line, was too careful not to slip and fall. Because of that, your grand gestures and obvious advances were deflected by him every single time. Except that one time he did indulge. That one time where you weren’t even trying and he, by his own doing, fell into temptation. Only when commands a situation, or when he thinks he is, he lets himself free fall into his instincts.

“I’ll miss you.” You added, playing with the little metal panel that seemed the right size to fit the droid part he was fixing.

“I don’t think you miss me when you have Luke’s tongue down your throat.”

He bit the words, gripping the tool with more force in between his fingers, clearly upset. You hid a playful smirk.

“That’s when I miss you the most.” You whispered, grazing his ear shell with your lips, caressing the pull-up sleeve from his shirt.

He tensed at the ministration, blinking fast to return to his previous state of concentration, “To all of this, where’s your boyfriend? Doesn’t he have a promise to fulfill?”

Honestly, it was your fault for trusting Luke’s empty words. Again. But you were enjoying Anakin’s visible jealousy.

“Luke wanted to go straight to sleep… said he was stuffed from dinner. Not a lot of energy to do anything.” You briefly whined with a voice so low, Anakin could barely hear you with the noise of the machine.

So he stopped, pushing himself back onto his chair so he could look up to you without obstacles. His chair was set just a few inches lower to work better. Anakin’s eyes followed your figure from head to toe, casually lingering on the bit of skin that showed from the slit of your attire. Just like at the dinner table, he was struggling and was unsure that he would be able to escape harmlessly this time.

“I’m kind of jealous to be honest.” You mumbled, staring at the mess of parts, walking until you were in between him and the counter. Trapped in between his spreading legs, your chest was right on his eye line and you hadn’t changed your dress. “I wish I was stuffed as well.”

Gulping harshly, Anakin built up the strength to stare at your intense gaze, basically condemning himself. Because the minute he saw the hungry spark shining from them, he knew there wasn’t a single bone in him that would deny you if you asked for him again.

His strong, yet shy hand, climbed up your leg like a moth to a flame until he was able to grasp the fat of your thigh. Feeling your softness against his palm had him on the edge of staining his pants. With a little pull from his part, it took you mere seconds to obey his silent command and sit on his lap. Anakin’s curious hand continued to brush your bare leg, rejoicing in the way your breath would accelerate when his hand went up and how you bit your lip whenever it came down.

It also didn’t help that his other arm was wrapped around your waist, thumb miming the motion of his hand, but on your hip, trapping you in his embrace. Expectant of what would be his next move, you shyly waited for whenever he would peel his eyes from your slit and reciprocate the attention, this time on your face.

On your lips.

Like he was reading your mind, Anakin’s eyes slowly moved up your curves until he met your needy orbs, noses softly grazing each other at the proximity. Breath getting out of control at the shift of energy, warmth expanding all over your skin and clit throbbing in anticipation. You deviated your eyes momentarily to sneak a peek of the deliciously rich piece of pie laying on the table and he benefited from the newly acquired angle to caress your throat with his lips.

“Just a taste?” You murmured, looking at him through your eyelashes, intentionally inching closer to brush his lips with yours.

Was he going to do it? Take the next step?

Would he dare?

Would you dare?

Surpringsily, Anakin nodded swiftly, leaning into the intoxicating pull of your mouth. “Just a taste.”

Anakin’s lips tasted so much better the second time around, it tasted like victory. And you made it a personal goal of yours to show him how grateful you were that he finally caved in. Wasting no time, in case he changed his mind, your hands found their home in Anakin’s curls, the silky feeling of them a new aphrodisiac to you and apparently to him, by the way he was growling at your clasp.

His sneaky tongue barely asked for permission when it was already intruding into your mouth, licking everything on its way. Giving up on trying to take the lead, you surrendered to his rough pace and enjoyed the delicious sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your lips. Anakin would take advantage of your dumb state and hanging mouth to suck however he pleased, smirking because the only thing your mind could process was imitate his dirty moves. Until he bit your bottom lip, making sure your brain wasn’t already melted before he could even start ruining you.

When you pulled his hair, only because he had taken the party downstairs and was violently grabbing your ass, it was like you had awakened a beast. Out of nowhere, Anakin stood up, holding you by your thighs and placing you on the surface of his tool table. His shirt’s buttons were discarded early in the makeout session, granting you the space necessary to roam your palms all over his strong pecs and firm shoulder blades. And when you tried to wrap your legs around his waist, hinting right where you wanted him, he clasped his fists around your ankles, spreading you open without breaking the liplock. He was even more aggressive with the leverage his height gave him.

“Just a taste…” He grunted again, lifting up the skirt of your dress until it was tangled enough to give him a good view of your thong. He clicked his tongue at the sight of your spicy choice of underwear. “Almost like you had planned it all along.”

Shamelessly, so outrageously shameless, you drifted your legs further apart, making him snicker.

“Well, did you?” He wandered, sliding your damped panties down your legs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since yesterday.” You breathed out, shivering at the breeze fanning your burning core. “I’ve never wanted something so bad.” Urged eyes glued directly to Anakin’s groin.

Anakin grinned a triumphant smile. That could’ve easily been a lie, but he doubted it. He recognized a brat when he saw one. Holding your foot like it was a delicate piece of glass, Anakin set the nibbling starting point right on your ankle and followed a beeline straight to your weeping cunt. His hot breath made you shiver in anticipation, whimpering to show off your desperation in case this would reach his sensible side.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm before me, baby? Without doing it yourself?” He breathed, roaming his hands up your legs, the contact so rough and intimate at the same time.

You hated that question, it embarrassed you.

“Mmm… Uhh-” You thought out loud, mind going blank as Anakin’s smooches went higher up. “F-four months?” You hissed.

“You’ve been dating Luke for three.” He did the math in his head.

Oh.

Your face turning in shame had his eyes widening.

It would be a lie if Anakin said that he wasn’t mad at his son for dragging the Skywalker name in the mud. For keeping such a needy thing like yourself restricted from gratification. With how sexual you were, four months were an eternity. Nonetheless, Anakin was a fixer and you were his next project.

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you? This slutty pussy can’t wait to have something inside of it. Anything.” Anakin mocked you, testing your sanity as he delayed contact with your core by redirecting his foreplay into the inner side of your thighs.

“That’s not true.” You fought with a trembling voice, observing how Anakin got closer and closer to delivering exactly what you wanted. “I only want you, d-”

The forbidden word. You almost spilled it.

“-sir.” You corrected in time, catching Anakin’s mocking glint. “Only you, please.”

Anakin’s face twisted in pleasure when his finger dived inside you, giving him a warm welcome, impossibly slick. You hugged his pumping digit tightly, getting even wetter at this fascinated expression. Anakin hadn’t felt such a lubricated canal in so long, his head almost exploded at the million possibilities with such an easy pussy: His cock would slide right in, be suffocated by your clenching walls just like his finger was...

That had him dropping on his knees, starting to eat you out like he was starved. Just like you predicted. Nose deep, no hesitation to blow your slobbering cunt with abandon, moaning right on your core when he had the very first taste of your flavor. So sweet. Just like he predicted.

“Oh- oh!” You whimpered at the first clean lick he gave you, quivering like a virgin because it had been too long since someone showed you love there.

Anakin’s tongue had the knowledge and patience none of the guys your age had. Every motion was so passionately delivered, so intentional. No rush, no fast lapping to get you off quickly. Anakin knew exactly what would have you shaking with pleasure and wasn’t scared to spend his time getting to know every hidden, sticky spot. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed taking his sweet time with his face buried in your exposed core.

It was the hottest shit you’d ever seen.

You were riled up by the precise technique with which he knew exactly how to pleasure your opening, sucking on your lips like they were the meal and not a measly pit stop. But what had you speechless, just at a loss of words, was the way he didn’t hesitate to dip his face into your heat with fervor. As he planted open mouth kisses to your slit, face fully covered by your juices, he only pulled back to spit on top of your clit and play with the liquid slob on top of your bundle of nerves.

No grimaces, no disgust faces, just utter fascination by your reactions and your pussy.

“Such a sweet thing.” Anakin whispered, flattening his tongue and lapping over your mound. “Careful, I might not let you leave.”

Please don’t. You replied inside your head.

Anakin’s sounds of approval and delight made this whole experience even more sinful. Something about the idea of him enjoying cheating on his wife touched a nerve inside of you, something so wild and dangerous: You had another woman’s man in between your legs and he was enjoying being of service to you. You arched your back at the naughty thought, something Anakin didn’t appreciate because it moved you from the angle he had specifically situated you on; he had already discovered the spot that had your toes curling.

The power rush combined with Anakin's attention to your clit had a knot forming on your abdomen. Supporting yourself on your elbows, you looked down at Anakin’s work, not wanting to miss the scenario in front of you, in case you climaxed earlier than anticipated. But what you saw only pushed you closer to said ending. Anakin was playing with your clit like a cat with a toy, giving rapid licks that had your head spinning, while staggering eager sucks onto your nub. Anakin’s lips enveloped your clit with such care, only to roughly slurped on it, only backing down until he heard you whining. Or moaning his name. Whichever came first.

“Anakin-” You bravely attempted to cry his name, unsure of his reaction.

Anakin took the opportunity to analyze your flustered image, his gaze inevitably drawn to your falling cleavage, given that he was pulling down on the fabric by shouldering your legs. He could see the top of your boobs spilling from your undergarments and he dreamed of the looks of them. How perky they would be, how firm and squeezable they must be. Fantasizing about your young tits had him rolling his hips against the wooden leg of the table.

If Anakin locking your legs around his shoulders to dig deeper into your cunt wasn’t enough to have you convulsing, his tongue breaching into you and maneuvering it like it was actually fucking you, did.

“Anakin, I’m close- Oh,” You could barely hold yourself, deciding to lean limp against the hard surface, waiting for Anakin to sweep you off your feet with an outstanding orgasm.

“That’s right, you’re gonna come on my tongue. How does that feel?” Anakin pushed, squeezing your ass and bringing your core over to him to devour. Like the certified slut you were, you rocked your hips against his face, relishing on the massage his nose inflicted on your most sensitive part. “Fucking your boyfriend’s dad face. This has to be a world record.”

Anakin stared at you over your mound, drinking the heavenly sight of your face contorting in ecstasy by his doing. Such a pretty, young thing, so slick and wet… coming undone by his tongue. And his tongue only.

“Such a slut… my slut.” He degraded you with darkened eyes, amazed at how those words only had you trembling harder. “Only wanting to come on my tongue, by my cock. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, taking the little spaces he gave you in between words to fight off the pending peak; you didn’t want this to be over. You needed more from him, you needed everything.

“Y-yes!” You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the familiar wave of satisfaction.

“Yes, what?” Anakin teased.

Would you dare?

“Yes, daddy!” You screamed when your climax toppled you over.

Anakin had the minimal kindness of not rubbing your choice of words on your face as you came over his fingers, dripping not only on his hand, but his table. This climax in particular had you weak; the aftershocks prolonged for more than you were used to and legs trembled as if you had just worked out. It could have been because you hadn’t had one in so long, or maybe because of his skillful tongue. Probably a combination of both. But truth be told, it was the best orgasm of your life.

Even with dizzy eyes you could spot the bulge twitching inside his fitted pants. He had promised you just a little taste, but it was so unfair to leave him like that. Right?

Right?

Boosting yourself up, you directed your hand straight to his waistband, actively searching to fish his cock.

“What are you doing?” Anakin questioned but did little to no effort to stop your wandering touch.

You didn’t give an answer, instead lips pouted with a fixed stare, you let your actions speak for you. After unbuckling his belt, you loosened his pants, being faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. Anakin sucked his breath in when he saw your nails dipping under the elastic of his underwear, shaky exhales at the expectation of contact. You were unaware of it, you wouldn’t even believe it, but it had been a while for him too. Besides his own hand, he hadn’t known the touch of someone else in so long and Padmé didn’t even do the trick by now.

So when Anakin saw your widened eyes as you scope up his erection from its confinements, he felt the same rush he used to savor with other conquests whenever Padmé and he were on a on-and-off break. But this was better, so much more electric. Your surprised gasp at his big cock elevated his ego to new highs. It just confirmed what he already knew: that you’ve dealing with stupid boys, when you deserved a real man.

And Anakin was exactly that.

His eagerness pushed you to envelope your hand around his shaft with more confidence, your fingers struggling to meet around it because of the delicious girth. Anakin let go as soon as he felt you tugging his length, crumbling on your shoulder, barely supporting himself on the edge of the table at each side of your hips. Being the big man he was, you didn’t expect Anakin to be so vocal during sex, but fuck were you wrong. Whimpers started to spill from his lips, landing right on your ear. It was the most exquisite sound you’ve heard.

It was just so hot to have him completely surrender to you, to the will of your hand. Gladly, you pumped harder and faster, expecting to hear more of his inviting sounds. Having the upper hand encouraged you to try and lead the situation, turning his head by his chin with two fingers, sucking in his bottom lip as a first move before properly kissing him. Jacking him off while he still had his pants on, had you squeezing your thighs, the sight turning on a switch for you.

He followed your initiative and dipped his very own fingers to take care of you again. He would do it as many times as you needed, just for his own amusement. Closing his eyes, he sighed in content when his digits were fully installed inside of your warm walls.

“That’s it, that’s the stuff.” He smiled into the words, making you cry even louder at the intrusion. He couldn’t stop praising you, he was too fascinated by you. “Always so wet for me. Fuck, yes. So wet and slick, ready to let me in. I adore this young pussy.”

You sobbed at the last words he pronounced, Anakin cracking a wicked grin. He was mesmerized by how unfiltered and vulgar your dark side turned out to be. Finally a worthy opponent.

Anakin and you worked on each other until you were both grazing the edge: sloppily kissing, moaning on each other's mouths and exchanging the same air by just how close you were. The scene replicated the rush and eagerness of a young couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other’s pants. It was so intimate, yet distant at the same time.

Because he wasn’t technically fucking you his conscience weighted a bit less. Using that logic, Anakin found comfort that, as long as you two kept your shenanigans at hand stuff, there was no reason why he should be called a cheater. It was two people exchanging favors.

It was him shaking you off his system.

“A-Anakin, you make me feel so good. Please.” You squealed when he circled around your clit with his thumb as his thick fingers worked in and out of you.

“Next time you touch yourself, you’ll think of these fingers, you’ll think of me.” Anakin grunted, flicking your nub without care. He relished on the little scream you let out.

Anakin felt the exciting clench when he inserted his third finger in, your contorted face tattling you anyway. That was good news, because he was close too. It was hard for him not to when you were looking like sin itself with your dress discarded at waist level, cheeks flushed and mouth hung open, begging to be fucked by his tongue.

Anakin wanted to grip you, rip you apart, crush you under the weight of his desire. He needed to have all of you in order to move on, so the next half of his life was spent dreaming about the feeling of you, as an alternative of a lifetime simply wandering. And as much as he wanted to extend this moment forever, your constant spasms were threat enough to let him know release was right around the corner.

Gushing on him again, you felt your body going limp. Smiling to the ceiling, you thought about how Anakin had ended your miserable drought with two winning orgasms. It was so intense, you were actually ashamed of how many unholy sounds you squealed but it didn’t make sense why a simple hand job would feel so good.

Flipping onto your stomach at the speed light, Anakin needily pulled up the bottom of the dress until your ass was bare and exposed for him to fondle as he pleased, panting frantically. You didn’t even felt ashamed when he split you open; you offered yourself to him even more and he fucking loved it.

He fucking loved how shameless you were, how excited for his attention you got. A breath of fresh air, that was you.

But right when Anakin was about to give into his darkest desires, right about to cross the line between wrong and utterly wrong, gripping the edges of the table while trembling as his cock sat an inch away from your entrance…

Just one little push and he would taste heaven.

Just one little thrust and he would know glory in the purest form.

The debate raged inside of him, a bead of sweat falling from his temple. He was only torn away from his mental debate when your impatient orbs peep from over your shoulder.

“Please.” You whined, shaking your ass to entice him. “P-please do it, daddy. I’m begging, I really am.”

Knees weak, Anakin was about to cave.

Just one swing of his hips. Just one tiny buck-

Another whine came out of you, but a disappointing one, this time provoked by Anakin jacking himself off until he was covering your heart-shaped cheeks with the viscous liquid you desperately wanted to swallow. Holding your jaw so you would make eye contact with him, Anakin put two cum-covered fingers in front of you, almost spurting a second time when your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the taste. His jizz was as good as dessert, for fuck’s sake.

But things come to an end.

“This can’t ever be known.” Anakin finally picked himself up from behind you, buttoning his pants as he shook his head, clearing his throat. It felt like he was talking to himself, “This- uhm, this never happened. Never happened...”

“But it did. And I liked it.” Not fixing your dress so he would be greeted by your perky nipples, you turned to face him. “In fact, I loved it. I kinda want more.” You tilted your head, eyeing his groin without a filter. “Don’t you want more, daddy?” You had found a weak link and Anakin was making absolutely no effort to hide the effects of the word on him.

Of course he wanted more. He wanted everything. Especially when you were staring at him with those eyes, and that hair, and those tits- God, those firm, perky tits were getting to him.

The phone he had installed for inner communication inside the house rang. It was Padmé calling him to sleep, the noise from his workshop disturbing her dreams. A nerve-wracking feeling took over you as soon as the phone call ended, you evidently awaiting for his next statement.

He would either stay or leave. As simply as that.

In or out?

When Anakin took one bite of the pie as he fixed his eyes on you, you smirked as a mirror of his own smile.

taglist : @darthgloris @ingrid69ers @shulipp @bookishnights03 @anakinswh0re419 @fuckmyskywalker@dxviiin @bby-imasociopath @adoringanakin @d0llfacehgwts@daddyissuesbabygirl

let me know if you wanna be tagged in the upcoming parts!

740 notes · View notes

moonhoures · 6 months

Text

Kiss Me Thru The Phone

🕷️ kinktober — day 23: phone sex 🕸️

pairing: felix (stray kids) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, phone sex, masturbation

word count: ~950

synopsis: sure, having an idol bf isn’t exactly ideal, and having phone sex with said bf at 4am is definitely less than ideal. but you make it work 👍🏻

a/n: sorry again for the delay. hope you guys enjoy 💋

posted: october 27, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Dialing . . .

That word taunted you for the third time as you waited for your boyfriend to answer the phone. He was several thousand miles away from you, in a different timezone, so he was just getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, you had set an alarm for 4 a.m. so that you could tell him goodnight. Though, that was starting to seem like it wasn’t going to happen as your third attempt to call him caught his voicemail. You decided then to give up. Maybe he already fell asleep, you thought as you let your phone fall back onto the empty space beside you where his body would usually be snoring softly.

But just as your eyes were closing, your phone buzzed. You picked it up, the lit-up screen showing his contact photo.

“Sorry I missed your call, baby. I was in the shower,” Felix said once you answered.

“S’okay, how was your show tonight?”

“It was fucking amazing. The fans were so loud and their energy was great all night,” you could picture the wide smile on his freckled face as he spoke. The thought made you smile.

“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to see your show in Australia soon.”

“Trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. I haven’t been home in so long, and I can’t wait to have you meet everybody.”

“Not too much longer,” you reminded him. You let out a groan as you stretched yourself across the bed, and your boyfriend laughed softly.

“Tired?”

“Tired? Why would I be tired? It’s just four in the morning,” you replied sarcastically.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be tired, but I understand. I’ll let you get some sleep, babe.”

“Wait, why’s that?” you asked, but you knew Felix well enough to know exactly what he meant.

“I just . . . miss you a lot. And I’ve got this room all to myself, unlike yesterday,” he explained, making your heartbeat speed up. Your body was heating up at just the thought of him, so you peeled the sheets back.

“You miss me?” you repeated, “How much, Lix?”

“A lot, baby. I’ve thought about you all day.”

“What have you been thinking about?” your hands moved over your body, fingertips gliding over your bare thighs and up your stomach. Your skin broke out in goosebumps.

“Coming home to you in a few days,” his voice was a little deeper than normal, the lust evident in his timbre, “Wanna spend every second with you.”

“You will,” you agreed, hands sliding under your shirt to cup your breast, “You can have me for as long as you want.”

“Yeah? Can’t wait to fuck you when I get home. Been dreaming about your pussy for weeks,” you swore you could hear his hand pumping his cock on the other end of the line. You instantly became wet at the mental image of him in some nice hotel bed, fisting himself to the thought of fucking you. Having his way with you in your bed, your scent filling his nose. Your lips on his. His hands holding onto you tight, wordlessly promising to not let you go anytime soon. “Are you touching yourself too, _______?”

“Yes,” you squeaked out, hand sinking under the band of your underwear to play with the space between your thighs. Your skin was slick under your touch, making it easy to rub and massage your sensitive clit.

“Good, get nice and wet for me. Can you do that?”

“Mhm,” you couldn’t focus on answering, you put it all into aiming for pleasure. You were in a rhythm now, and it felt good. Not as good as when Felix touched you, but it would do for the circumstances.

“I’m so hard right now,” he confessed, his breath becoming heavy, “All for you. Can’t stop thinking about how good you would feel around me. How tight you would be. How wet.”

“Felix,” you moaned, dipping your fingers into your hole, thrusting two of them in and out. You wondered if he could hear the sounds of it from his side, but you got your answer sooner than you thought when he let out a moan.

“Fuck, say my name again, baby.”

“Felix,” you cooed his name, legs fidgeting as the pleasure between them grew. You heard a faint disgruntled noise on the other end, and a smirk sat on your lips at the idea of him cumming from just you moaning his name. “It feels so good. Wish it was your fingers.”

A groan sounded from his end, “I know, baby, me too. Are you gonna cum?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, cum all over those pretty fingers. Let me hear you,” his voice came out breathlessly. You could tell he was close too. A few minutes passed and the sounds your boyfriend was making on the other end of the call were making you go crazy. Your body was buzzing with anticipation for an orgasm that was getting so close you could practically feel it already. Your muscles tensed and moans ripped from your throat.

Unbeknownst to each other, you both came at the same time. Your thigh twitched from the impact before your legs fell limp. Felix’s hand continued to milk his softening erection, now coated in his own cum. He was really thankful he decided to put a towel down just in case, because he did not want to have to face the hotel maids in the morning with such obvious stains on his duvet cover.

“That was a nice way to get to sleep,” he mumbled to you through his post-orgasm haze.

“And a nice way to wake up.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee felix smut #felix smut #[🕷️] kinktober 23 #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #felix fanfic #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #felix imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #felix x reader

907 notes · View notes

faulty-writes · 6 months

Note

Headcanons for Izuku, Tenya, and Mirio taking a nice, relaxing bath with the reader for the first time? There's just something so domestic and intimate about it!

[ Hello anon. A nice relaxing bath sounds wonderful, sign me up! Not sure who I'd want to take it with though, hah. I hope you enjoy these headcanons! ]

When you suggested taking a bath together, Izuku's face turned red and his hand fisted into his shirt as he tried to blurt out an answer. "I…uh y-you, I t-together um…" He was at a loss for words, but you did not take offense. After all, he was a shy individual.

He agrees after some convincing, and before you can even enter the tub, he ensures that the water temperature is comfortable for both of you before shyly looking away when you begin to remove your clothes. As soon as he enters the bathtub, he becomes shy again despite your efforts to encourage him that everything is alright and that he can look at you.

"Um s-sorry I, uh, d-do you have enough r-room?" He asked, wanting to provide you with enough space as you enjoyed your first bath together. You appreciated his concern but preferred to remain close to him so that the intimate feeling lingered.

"I-is this okay?" he asked, gently stroking your back with his fingers. A content smile adorned your face as you leaned over the bathtub edge, enjoying the well-deserved massage and the faint sound of the water swishing in the tub.

The subtle moments of silence throughout the bath caused him to feel somewhat uncomfortable. However, doing this with you was a pleasant change of pace. There is something so intimate and yet so innocent about it.

Izuku's shyness had worn off toward the end of the bath. There was such a sense of peace and tranquility as he leaned against the back of the tub with his arms wrapped securely around you, even as the water grew colder.

Tenya was initially uncertain about your request. "Forgive me, is this truly appropriate? I understand that intimate moments are expected in romantic relationships. However, are you certain this particular activity is what you wish to participate in?" He did not envision taking a bath with you, but he was willing to participate if you so desired.

As he prepared the bath, he ensured that the water temperature was perfect and that the bath salts he had poured into the bath to aid relaxation and comfort were dissolved properly. Furthermore, he ensured that the towels were properly folded, and placed near the tub so that there were no tripping hazards. In addition, he ensured that the soap and washcloths were readily available.

Considering his manners, it was understandable that he was reluctant to expose his body to you and refused to look at your body until it was hidden under the water. Despite this, he found himself relaxing, at least a little bit, as the soothing hot water surrounded him.

Tenya engaged in conversation despite knowing that this was intended to be an intimate moment since he was not in favor of the silence that lingered between you two. "Is the water temperature to your liking? I can adjust it accordingly if you wish," he desired that this moment be perfect for you.

As he continues to avoid your gaze, he reminds himself that it is inappropriate to stare at your body in such a manner. Nevertheless, he insisted upon washing you and making sure that your neck, back, and arms were clean.

Tenya suggested doing some post-bath stretches and minor exercises after the bath had ended. Although you were not thrilled with this, you were aware that Tenya followed a strict healthy lifestyle that included regular exercise.

The idea of taking a bath together immediately appeals to him. "Wow, I didn't know you wanted to take our relationship to the next level, but it sounds awesome! Heh, let's do it sunshine!" He drags you to the bathroom without delay.

Because of his quirk, he is quite comfortable being naked and has no qualms about removing his clothes before filling the tub. He did this as usual with a smile on his face and a sense of eagerness in his eyes.

"Hah, hah. Got you!" Mirio smiled as he splashed water at you again, seemingly intending to encourage you to engage in a splash war. Even when you were doing something as simple as soaking in the tub together, it was pleasant to have a little fun now and then.

"There you go! Heh, stay still now!" He instructed as he poured water over your head, washing away the shampoo he had just applied. "Now…" He paused and grabbed a washcloth soaked in soap. "Lift your arms!" he commanded enthusiastically, causing the water to swish and drip over the side of the tub.

Even after he had washed your hair and body, you were hesitant to cuddle with him and it didn't take him long to figure that out. Regardless, he would not allow your shyness to stand in his way and instead, wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your wet locks when you least expected it.

Upon noticing that the water was becoming cold, he suggested ending the bath and draining the water before exiting. As you attempted to do the same, he wrapped a towel around you and lifted you into his arms. "Walking back wouldn't make much of a special pampering, would it?" he joked.

472 notes · View notes

wongyuseokie · 10 months

Text

Practice Makes Perfect | c.s.c, j.w.w & k.m.g

Summary: Mingyu needed some help sexually. So his Hyungs decided to ask a simple favour of you, and who are you to say no to them? Besides, who could deny them pleasure? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕smut | ♥︎ completed Word Count: 2669 words

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Female Reader | Female Reader x Jeon Wonwoo | Female Reader x Kim Mingyu

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Smut, Fluff, PWP. Content Warnings: None. It’s a PWP, and with my bias line. Mingyu is made to be a lot shyer and a little less experienced here. It’s the only way I can humble a man that fine. Mingyu needs some help, I guess? (but does he really?). Mentions of alcohol.

Smut Warnings: Dom! Cheol, Subish!Gyu, Dom Wonwoo! Unprotected sex (pls don’t do this irl). Overstimulation, double penetration, breast & nipple play. Oral (m & f receiving), face riding, squirting. Mentions of public sex. Pet names (good boy, baby boy, pretty girl), praise kink. Pussy slapping. Cum play. Biting, it’s mild. Authors Note 1: Thank you so so much to @here4btsfics & @junkissed-replies for beta'ing this for me! Thank you also to @seungkwansphd for reading and then telling me I should be in horny jail. ILY bby. Authors Note 2: Also happy birthday to Wonwoo, the bestest boy. To celebrate him, let's thirst over a fine-ass man and his handsome friends.

Authors Note 3: tagging my lovely @the-boy-meets-evil because it's her birthday month, and I gotta make her suffer too. Also tagging my lovely Zeta @multi-kpop-fanfics because we suffer the Wonwoo rot today (every day). Tagging my lovely @seokgyuu too. Cross Posted to AO3 © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“Seriously? Hyung, I mean it; how do I make her cum with my mouth?” Seungcheol kept laughing at Mingyu.

“Come on, Hyung; he’s trying to learn,” Wonwoo said with a smile.

Seungcheol stopped laughing and looked at them.

“Okay, fine, Mingyu. Do you think I have a doll or something you would practice on?” Mingyu looked down.

“Besides, it wouldn’t help. Each woman is different. No woman’s clit is at the same location as the others.” Mingyu sighed.

“I know. I just, since my ex, I haven’t been able to, like, I want to make a girl come undone because of my tongue and then fuck her,” Mingyu blurted out.

“Mingyu, I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Wonwoo comforted.

“Anyways, shall we head to Y/N’s house? I’m sure we’re already late?” Seungcheol asked, and the other boys nodded.

You were on your second glass of wine, waiting for the boys to show up. It was movie night, and they had kept you waiting for the past hour and a half, and you were getting antsy.

You decided to pour a glass of wine, which turned into two, and you were sipping when you heard your doorbell ring. You opened it to find your three best friends all looking extra apologetic.

You all had met because Wonwoo had somehow managed to splash water on you at a bar. Seungcheol, the charmer, helped you get some tissues, and Mingyu was there, while he was shy at first, but he soon became your fellow cuddle buddy.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Mingyu over here wouldn’t shut up, so we got delayed.” Mingyu glared at Seungcheol.

“Hyung,” he warned, and Seungcheol smiled.

“I won’t tell her. Chill,” you narrowed your eyes at Seungcheol’s words.

“What were these three up to?” You thought.

You smiled at Seungcheol, never being able to get annoyed at any one of them entirely.

“It’s okay, come on, help me in the kitchen. Wonwoo, Mingyu, get settled, make yourselves at home and pick a movie,” you said, inviting them in, and they followed you into the apartment while Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen.

Moments like these, you were thankful for having a door that led to your kitchen because the minute you had shut the door behind you, Seungcheol had you pushed against a counter and his lips finding yours.

“I’m sorry we’re late, Y/N,” Seungcheol apologised, mumbling the words against your lips.

You and Seungcheol met at a bar, mainly because Mingyu accidentally spilt a drink on you, and Seungcheol took you to the bathroom to help you clean up, and one thing led to another, and somehow you ended up fucking Seungcheol in a random bathroom bar.

It was a good arrangement. You both had amazing sex and no strings.

“What was Mingyu asking about anyway?” You asked, now grabbing glasses and bottles of wine from the counter.

Seungcheol bit his lip, “how to eat a girl out.”

“Didn’t he have a girlfriend?” “He did, but I think he wants it for a one-night stand or hookups so he can, and I quote, ‘make her cum on my tongue before I fuck her,” Seungcheol elaborated, and you smiled at his words. You couldn’t help but picture it; Mingyu was eager, and willing to learn.

“Y/N, I know that fucking smile.”

You smirked, “what if I give him a lesson?”

Seungcheol grinned, “can I watch?”

You and Seungcheol emerged from the kitchen to find Wonwoo and Mingyu sitting on your sofa. Mingyu had removed his leather jacket, leaving him with a sleeveless top showing off his muscles.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, was on his phone, and his tight black shirt was doing nothing to hide how much he had been working out in the last few months.

“What movie did you pick?” you asked. “We couldn’t pick one, so we just have music chilling in the background. Let’s make it a wine night,” Wonwoo replied.

You sat on the couch, and Seungcheol pulled you to his side.

“Mingyu, how’s single life?” You asked innocently, and you heard Seungcheol suppress a laugh as he caught onto your motive.

“Uh, good, you know. Nothing terrible.”

“Easier to get casual sex, right?” You asked innocently, and Mingyu stilled.

“Hyung, what the hell did you say to her?” Mingyu asked, glaring at Seungcheol.

You blinked as you set your glass down, walked over to Mingyu and stood before him. You sat down on his lap, throwing your legs around his waist.

“Mingyu, look at me,” you said, and he did just that.

“Good boy.” Mingyu felt your praise shoot straight to his cock.

“You wanted to learn how to eat a girl out?” You asked, and Mingyu started turning red.

“Do you want me to teach you?” You continued to ask.

“Or?” Seungcheol interrupted.

“Do you want your Hyung to show you?” Mingyu bit his lip at Seungcheol’s words while Wonwoo, who was enjoying this all too much, smirked.

“Show him, Hyung. He’s a visual learner anyway,” Wonwoo chimed in, and you nodded. Mingyu was still frozen. At the same time, Seungcheol sat on the floor in front of you. You crawled off Mingyu’s lap and found a space between him and Wonwoo.

“Kiss me, pretty girl,” Seungcheol instructed, and you did as he asked, placing your lips on Seungcheol’s as he moved his lips with yours. He pulled your lower lip between his as he kept kissing you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

Your moans filled the room, along with the music. Seungcheol’s hands went to your shirt, pulling it off, revealing a sheer bra that left little to the imagination, while his hands found your shorts. He pulled your shorts and underwear off together.

Wonwoo, who was already hard, found the clasp of your bra and undid it, helping you out of the material. He lifted one leg onto his thighs.

“Mingyu, take her other leg,” Wonwoo said as Mingyu shakily moved his hand to your thighs, lifting over his muscular legs. You felt so exposed, and Seungcheol’s hot breath on your cunt did not help.

Wonwoo’s hand found a way to your breast. He started massaging and squeezing the soft tissue, making you moan as he traced circles around your hardened nipples. Mingyu was practically catatonic until Seungcheol told him to move.

“Mingyu. You’ll turn into a statue at this rate. Kiss Y/N.” Seungcheol said as he started stripping himself down to his underwear; you turned your head to face Mingyu, who was turning into a lovely shade of fuchsia.

“Baby boy, kiss me,” you said, and you felt Mingyu practically launch himself at you. His lips found yours, and he kissed you. While Seungcheol was a more passionate kisser, Mingyu was more playful.

His tongue kept running along your bottom lip; he would slip his tongue in now and then and deepen the kiss. Mingyu would gently tug at your bottom lip with his teeth, making you moan and writhe.

Mingyu pulled away to trail kisses down your neck. He bit and sucked his way to your collarbone, ensuring that he ran his tongue over each of his love bites, soothing the area.

You moaned as he continued and tugged his hair, making him look at you.

“Baby boy, you’re so fucking good at that,” you praised, making Mingyu smirk. His lips were swollen, and his eyes glazed over with lust.

A slap to your clit brought your attention back to the room and Seungcheol ’s carnal gaze.

“Mingyu, watch what I do. Watch how I make her cum with just my mouth.” You squirmed at Seungcheol’s words, desperate to feel his lips on your cunt.

You would never let Seungcheol know how good he was at eating you out. He already had a massive ego when it came to his skills in bed, and you didn’t want to inflate it further.

“Mingyu, eyes on her cunt,” Seungcheol instructed, and Mingyu nodded, his hand massaging your breast, mirroring Wonwoo’s actions. Seungcheol leaned forward and ran his tongue from your entrance to your clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned, you almost hated how easily Seungcheol made you a mess, but at the same time, you weren’t exactly complaining. You moved your hands down to Wonwoo’s trousers while the other moved to Mingyu’s. Both men groaned as you palmed their erections.

Seungcheol ran his tongue up and down your folds until he finally fixed his mouth on your clit.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you whimpered, feeling him smirk against your pussy.

Mingyu’s gaze never once left your cunt. He observed as his Hyung lapped at your cunt. He noticed what parts of your cunt, when touched, made you moan and whimper.

Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your cunt and started to suck, making you buck your face against his mouth. Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your cunt to speak.

“Wonwoo, take her in your lap and hold her tight,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo did as he was told.

You were sat in Wonwoo’s lap between his thighs, your lower back pressing against his hard length.

Wonwoo’s muscular arms wrapped tight around your waist, immobilising you as Seungcheol dove back in.

Seungcheol resumed his actions as his mouth found your clit again, he kept sucking, and you kept squirming, making Wonwoo moan each time you moved against his cock.

Seungcheol licked and flicked your clit until you whimpered and came on his tongue, and Seungcheol lapped at your entrance, licking your release.

Seungcheol smirked as he stood up. He pulled off his briefs and sat down in between the two men.

“Wonwoo put her on me,” Seungcheol instructed, and Wonwoo smirked and lifted you and lowered you down onto Seungcheol’s cock.

“Y/N, hands around my neck, pretty girl,” Seungcheol commanded, and you nodded and wrapped your hands around Seungcheol’s neck as he started thrusting his hips upwards, making you moan and fall forward.

“So fucking tight,” Seungcheol said as he groaned.

“Mingyu, rub her clit.” Mingyu nodded as his hand moved to your cunt. He gently moved his fingers along your cunt and stopped when he heard you gasp.

“There?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded.

Mingyu wasted no time rubbing your clit. His fingers moved vigorously, and you were cumming in practically no time.

Seungcheol's groans got louder as you came around his cock. He hissed and pounded into you as you moaned and keened in oversensitivity.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Seungcheol groaned, thrusting a few more times and stilled when he came inside you. Seungcheol slowly pulled out of you.

“Keep my cum inside you,” Seungcheol instructed.

Seungcheol carried you gently and laid you down on the other end of the sofa.

“Gyu, you wanted to eat a girl out? Go on, make Y/N cum,” Seungcheol instructed lazily.

Mingyu bit his lip to suppress a moan. You moaned when you heard his instruction and stayed still, waiting for Mingyu’s mouth. He got so hard at the thought of being able to lick your pussy clean of Seungcheol’s cum.

“Mingyu, take your clothes off,” you mumbled as he approached you. You almost laughed at the speed with which he undressed but then had to bite back a moan when you saw his body.

Mingyu crawled and laid down between your legs. You could feel his breath on your cunt as he moaned and dove straight in. He mirrored Seungcheol’s actions; however, Mingyu was playful. He would alternate between his tongue and lips.

Mingyu moved his mouth away from your cunt, and pulled you up on the sofa. Your hands tugged at his hair.

“More, Mingyu,” you whispered, and he laid down and pointed to his face.

“Ride my face, Y/N,” Mingyu asked breathlessly, and you nodded as you straddled his face, his hands wrapped around your thighs, inching you upwards so he could push his tongue inside your cunt.

You nearly fell forward at the welcome intrusion. Mingyu moaned when he tasted Seungcheol’s cum inside you as he moved his tongue and licked you.

“Do you want more, pretty baby?” You nodded. You heard Seungcheol’s voice from behind you.

You found Wonwoo standing at Mingyu’s head, his cock hard and in his hand. You adjusted yourself and wrapped your lips around his.

“Fuck, can I fuck your throat?” Wonwoo asked, moaning, and you simply hummed in approval against Wonwoo’s cock, the vibrations making him buck his length in your mouth.

Wonwoo started by wrapping your hair in a ponytail and moving his hips in and out of your mouth. You let Wonwoo fuck your throat, and Mingyu kept licking you. You whimpered as you started to feel your orgasm wash over you.

You came around Mingyu’s tongue, whimpering, but Mingyu’s grip on your thighs made it impossible for you to move. He continued licking you while you moaned while deep throating Wonwoo.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m going to cum,” Wonwoo growled, and you hummed, letting him know he could. Wonwoo thrust a few more times until he stilled and spilled his hot cum down your throat.

You moaned as you swallowed him. Wonwoo smirked devilishly. He was far from being done with you, but you didn’t have to know that just yet.

Mingyu kept lapping at your cunt, until you shook your vision, fading as you rode your orgasm out on his face. You whimpered as you felt a strong pair of arms pull you off him and hold you tightly.

“Mingyu, you said you didn’t know how to eat a girl out, and you made this one squirt with your tongue,” Seungcheol said, cocking his brow at him. Mingyu grinned as he licked his lips.

“I watched you, and she liked it,” Mingyu mumbled shyly, and you noticed how hard Mingyu was, and you motioned for him to come forward.

“Nope!” You heard Seungcheol say.

“Cheol, fuck, I need to fuck him,” you protested, and Seungcheol grinned.

“Oh, you will. Just you won’t fuck him alone. Mingyu, lie down again,” Seungcheol instructed, and Mingyu nodded and retook his position.

“Y/N, take him inside you,” Seungcheol instructed, and you practically crawled over and sank yourself on his length, hissing at how good he felt inside you. You felt a hand slap your ass, and you turned around to notice Wonwoo, who pushed you down so that you were lying on top of Mingyu.

You felt Wonwoo push his cock inside your cunt, and your mind went blank as he sheathed himself further and further inside you. Both men were hissing at the tight fit while you just let out whimpers.

Once Wonwoo was entirely inside you, he started moving his hips and tapped Mingyu’s thighs to do the same. You kept scratching Mingyu’s chest, trying to hold on as both men were fucking you. Neither one of them would last long in such a tight fight.

Hisses and moans filled the room as the three of you were ecstatic. Seungcheol was hard and stroking himself at the sight.

You felt Wonwoo cum inside you first, biting down on your shoulder as he did and pulled himself out, making you and Mingyu hiss. Mingyu pounded into your cunt as he came inside you shortly after.

You were panting, trying to catch your breath as Mingyu pulled out of you. You didn’t realise when, but he had you flipped and on the sofa, and his lips on your cunt.

You screamed at the touch, you were so swollen and sensitive, but Mingyu pushed his tongue inside you, moaning as he tasted your cum, mixed with his and Wonwoo’s.

He licked you until you came again. He moved away from your cunt to your lips, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Fuck.” He moaned as he took a seat next to you.

“Okay, it’s my turn to ravage her. You two, make sure you hydrate,” Seungcheol teased, smirking as he pulled you off the couch and threw you over his broad shoulders, slapping your ass as he carried you to your bedroom.

#seventeen #mingyu #wonwoo #seungcheol #svthub #scoups #kvanity #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #practice makes perfect fic

948 notes · View notes