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#like they can’t even open it from the inside it has to be opened by crew on the outside
pucksandpower · 3 days
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Young Love and Old Money
Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader
Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring
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You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.
“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”
You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”
Max grins. “I can handle it.”
The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.
Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.
This dinner needs to go perfectly.
Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.
“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”
You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”
Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”
You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”
Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”
Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”
Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”
You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.
The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.
“Delicious,” Max compliments.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”
You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.
But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”
Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”
“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”
You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.
The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.
Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”
Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.
You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.
You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”
“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”
“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.
“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.
You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.
“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.
Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.
You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.
Oh no.
This is bad.
Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”
Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”
You sink down in your chair, wincing.
Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”
A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.
Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”
Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”
You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.
“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”
“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”
Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”
You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”
But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”
Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”
Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”
Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”
“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”
Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”
Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”
Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.
Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”
“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.
You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.
Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”
Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”
Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”
You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.
As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.
He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”
***
The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”
You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”
The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”
Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”
You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”
“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.
The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”
“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.
In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.
“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”
Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.
“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”
“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.
You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.
“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.
The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”
You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”
Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”
You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”
“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”
You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.
You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.
This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.
Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.
“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.
You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”
Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.
It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.
“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”
You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.
Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”
You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”
“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.
“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”
He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”
You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”
Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”
He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.
Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”
Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”
Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”
Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.
Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.
***
The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.
You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.
“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.
“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.
You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.
“You’re the greatest, Max!”
“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”
“We love you so much!”
You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.
As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”
Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.
“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”
You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?
Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?
Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.
Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.
Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.
“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.
You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.
“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.
Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.
“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”
He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?
Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”
You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.
“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”
Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.
“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.
Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”
Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”
Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”
Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”
You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”
He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”
Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.
“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”
Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”
You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”
Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”
He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.
For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.
Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”
The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.
By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.
As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”
He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”
You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.
“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”
His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”
You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.
***
The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.
“You ready for this, liefje?”
You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”
This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.
You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.
Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.
About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”
Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”
The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”
“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.
“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”
You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.
“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”
Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”
You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.
The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”
You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”
“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”
You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”
The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”
You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...
You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.
“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.
You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.
“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.
“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”
Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”
Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.
Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.
You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.
Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.
Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.
"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”
The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.
After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”
He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”
Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”
Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Max.”
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sh1-n0bu · 3 days
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✿ 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨 ✿
characters: jing yuan x gn!reader
warnings: fluff, bad attempt at humor, reader is immortal, established relationship, jing yuan being jealous, found family slightly in there, yanqing coming in at the wrong time pt19487288482877
notes: i have fed yall enough horny food. now its time for fluff food aka small dosage of serotonin. open wideeeee🚂🚂🚂
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the constant noise of your irritated lover was something that you disregarded with little to no attention. you could feel it after all. that familiar feeling of your husband’s eyes boring into the back of your skull like the insanely heavy glaive he carries. it wasn’t exactly a common feeling to receive but on the moments that it happens, you could never forget the feeling.
you can just imagine it already. the pout pulling on the white haired man’s lips, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the impatient thumps of his feet rapidly hitting the floor as small sparks of lightning would float around him. of course, you can’t forget the iconic, “what about me?” puppy eyes he pulls.
“beloved” the deep baritone voice of jing yuan calls out, sounding way too serious for anyone’s comfort. if his soldiers that stand guard inside his office would still be around, they would be shivering in their armory from the sheer amount of unsettling feeling it brought. it wasn’t like that they have never seen their general angry or serious. it was just that, it rarely happens and so much fewer now since he was nearing his retirement.
turning around from what you were most greatly occupied with, you give him a few seconds of acknowledgment. finally, you were looking at him now. your eyes on him, the brightest stars he loved to gaze into even as the ever burning ones around him twinkles. you were always his favorite.
“jing yuan” you simply hum with a nod before turning back to what you were obsessing over. the loud dramatic gasp that comes from where your husband is barely fazes you, as you knew he was simply trying to get your attention. you knew your husband like the back of your hand and you knew for a fact that he wasn’t hurt as he shows himself to be.
“how dare you!” the man’s voice raises a bit, the sound of his steps sounding heavier than usual as he finally comes behind you to sweep you up into his arms. you immediately let out a soft grunt, feeling his strong arms tighten around you possessively as he refuses to let you go. instead, he pulls your smaller form flush against himself, face buried into the crook of your neck with a "hmph!". such a big baby you were married to.
"jing yuan, let go of me" you say, not bothering to wiggle yourself out of his grasp since you knew it would be an impossible task. your husband can be dangerously clingy and possessive at times and this was definitely one of those times.
"nuh.." your husband immediately rebuttals, shaking his face and proceeding to nuzzle his face further into the crook of your neck. deeply inhaling your scent, you could see his broad shoulders visibly relax and slump to indicate that he was calming down from his earlier mini temper tantrum. the two of you stay like that for a while. you, held captive in his arms as your husband takes his time to cuddle you close to himself. as close as fleshly possible. not even single moment for something else to wedge between the two of you, not even the cool air of his office. if there were to be the smallest bit of distance between the two of you, he would be extremely deprived of his already dangerously low level of [name] affections.
you had been away to the xianzhou zhuming for a business trip. as one of the most accomplished merchant and the head of the trade association, sometimes your work required you to move back and forth between places, worlds and even galaxies. and this time was no different as your business partner of long time in the xianzhou zhuming had come to a stalemate in their business there due to the ipc's recent dabbling in the xianzhou alliance's trading business. it had dragged on way longer than what you would've liked which also translated to an extended period of time of not seeing your husband, your son and daughter all together. a time away that your clingy husband took very badly, even worse than your son and daughter.
but not for you, as the first thing you did upon coming back from the trip and stepping in through the large doors of his office was to head straight towards your daughter - mimi. the large lion was sulking quietly in his office ever since you went away for your business trip, constantly pawing at jing yuan's clothes and whining for your presence. and upon seeing your face, she immediately pounced in your direction, wasting no time as she pushed you down into the hologram showcasing the large starchess board as she licked all over your face. an act of affection that you returned with a hearty laugh and kisses to her adorable fluffy face. an act of affection that your husband was very very very jealous of.
he was supposed to be the one to tackle you down and pepper your face in kisses and in return have his face peppered in kisses in return! not mimi!
and yes, jing yuan was jealous over his own fluffy daughter stealing his spouse away from him. blatantly, unabashedly, without shame was jealous over. which led to now, in you being trapped in his inescapable hold. really, the galls of this man.
"mmrrp? mrreeow?" mimi meows, butting her head against jing yuan's legs to get his attention while also making it sound as if she wanted the attention back on her again. it was tough having not one but two needy lions scampering for your attention.
"mimi, you have already had enough of their attention. now it's my turn with my own spouse!" jing yuan chides the lion softly, making her let out an irritated huff. mimi wanted her parent's attention but jing yuan also wanted his spouse's attention. it was a tug of war between the two lions with you as their unfortunate victim.
after many back and forths between the two lions, jing yuan had decided he had enough and decided to swoop you off of your feet. quite literally. the smug bastard had kicked your legs under you, making you fall back into a dip with a startled gasp. giving you an "i told you so" look, your husband cups your cheek in the palm of his hand before leaning in to place a fluffy of kisses on your face. cheeks, the bridge of your nose, forehead, chin, eyelids, lips - nowhere was free from the mercy of his kisses and jing yuan was going to make the whole world be reminded that you two were happily married.
"general! i heard that [name]'s bac-EWWWW!!!" the sudden barging in of you two's son is what finally separates you from his barrage of kisses. turning to look at his son, jing yuan makes a shooing motion with his hand - momentarily letting go of you cheek in the process - with mimi.
"me and [name] are busy right now, yanqing. take mimi out for a walk for an hour or two" the white haired man says without an ounce of shame, your breathless self still in his hold. reluctantly, yanqing does as told, calling mimi to his side to leave you two lovebirds be for some time. but not without one final word of advice.
"wait until back home at least, you two!!" and with that, your son and daughter were gone, leaving you both behind to have at least a small dose of affection that the both of you were deprived off of. with an amused chuckle at his son's words, he shakes his head before turning to you with his resting cat face. pair of golden eyes crinkling as mirth and devotion dance in them while his lips pull upwards into the genuine smiles he permanently has on his face whenever you were in his line of sight. all jing yuan could do was thank the reignbow arbiter and every aeons out there for granting him to be able to live in the same time as you.
"how i am blessed to be with you, my most beloved"
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kingkaizen · 1 day
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𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼
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∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3
∘ ft: nanami
∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3
∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation
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“Focus for me, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.
“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.
“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.
“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.
“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 
“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.
“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 
“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples. “I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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drudyslut · 2 days
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Your requests are open again! Also this says rafe but you can change it to jj if you want!
Anyways...Reader and rafe are dating and reader has birth control but still gets nervous it won’t work so they use condoms and they both want to be closer together/not have a condom between them (but do not want to risk it), so reader suggests him practicing pulling out (while wearing a condom) and after a few times he is able to control himself, so reader says she does not want to use a condom if he is okay with not using one so it is kind of romantic and their first time with nothing between them and they feel closer and more intimate, but when he is about to pull out reader says it feels too good and tells him not to and so rafe is like “I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold it baby” and practically begs him to just cum inside (and he is like what? Are you sure?) and reader is like “I don’t care. Don’t pull out”
omfffffg. this is hot🤤 also, i did switch it to jj, hope that’s fr okay🥺🫶🏻 this just gives jj vibes bc rafe be fuckin’ without a condom no matter what, man does not gaf.
CW: 18+ only! strong language, fem receiving oral, protected sex, eventual unprotected sex, cream pie, praise and degrading.
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“J, I’ve told you, let’s just practice your pulling out with a condom, and then I promise, once you can control yourself, we’ll go raw.”
You want to feel closer to him, feel all of him, as much as he does you. And even though you’ve been on birth control since the two of you started dating — two years — you’re too afraid it won’t be effective.
And the last thing you and JJ need is a baby. You’re not financially in a spot to support a child, so for now, you continue using the protective barrier.
JJ sighs. “You’re right, baby.”
You can’t help but frown. You understand how frustrated he is, you’re just as frustrated, but you’re just doing what you feel is best. You want to feel JJ raw, but you just cannot risk it right now.
“Wanna practice now?” You ask with a smirk on your lips.
JJ grins widely, showcasing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Absolutely I do.”
He walks toward you, his large hands grabbing your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, giggling when he slaps at your ass. “‘M gonna enjoy fucking you, taking out my frustration on you. Once I get my control, ‘m taking this sweet fucking pussy raw.”
The two of you reach his bedroom in the chateau, and he tosses you onto the bed, making you squeal and giggle uncontrollably. “Fuck me, JJ. Take your frustrations out on me. I can’t wait to feel all of you, so learn control fast.”
-
It’s been two weeks of you and JJ practicing his pulling out with a condom on. He’s finally ready, he finally gets pulled out perfectly, and you know he’s going to come to you soon about going raw.
“Baby, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”
You smile, taking a bite of the apple you’d grabbed out of the fruit bowl. “Mmm, I dunno baby. ‘M not really in the mood.” You joke.
JJ’s eyes narrow. He takes two long steps toward you, making you step back. Your back presses into the counter behind you, and his arms come to rest on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He lifts his right hand, running it down the side of your face before he knocks your apple into the floor, making you gasp.
“I was eating that!”
He runs his hands down your sides, resting them on your hips. He tightly grips at your waist, lifting you and resting your ass on the countertop. “So? I wanna eat now. I’m starved baby.”
You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers find your exposed thighs, running them up slowly until they disappear under the soft fabric of your dress.
His fingers find your panties, running over the soaked material. “She’s already wet for me baby. Begging for my tongue and cock.”
Your hips buck off the counter, and a moan escapes your lips. He pulls your ass to the edge of the counter, and you place your hands behind you, supporting your weight and keeping yourself from falling.
He drops to a squatting position, tossing your legs over his shoulders and pushing your panties to the side. He runs his index finger through your arousal soaked core, gathering your arousal on his finger before removing it and bringing it to his lips, humming in approval. “Hmmm. So fuckin’ sweet, always baby. Like fucking honey.”
You moan loudly at the sound of his low and raspy voice, the dirty words making your pussy wetter.
“Shit! Stop teasing, J.”
He smirks, leaning his head forward and sinking his teeth into your inner thigh, making sure to leave marks. “J, please?” You beg, the feel of his tongue running over your inner thighs, licking over the fresh teeth marks, has you squirming.
“Such a needy little slut for me.”
He runs his tongue through your slick folds, slowly licking you from your entrance to your clit. Your entire body jerks when the tip of his tongue licks over your sensitive bud.
JJ’s tongue pushes inside your entrance, teasing you as he rubs lazy circles around your clit. He flattens his tongue, his head moving up and down as he devours your pussy. He pulls his head back, shoving two fingers inside you and sucking your clit into his mouth. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers harshly pushing in and out of you until he has your entire body shaking.
“JJ-” you breathe out. “Fuck me, please”
He slows his fingers, letting your clit fall from his mouth with a pop. He removes your legs from his shoulders, standing to his full height and popping the button on his jeans, his zipper following quickly behind.
You stare down at his hard cock through your lashes, his right hand firmly gripping the base. He strokes himself softly a few times before he teases his head at your entrance. Your heart hammers in your chest, you’re about to feel all of him for the first time, and him feel all of you.
You let out a small whimper when he pushes his head inside. “Fuck, already feels s’much better baby girl, goddamn.”
He slowly sinks more of himself inside you, pushing each inch inside little by little until he fills you to the hilt. A loud moan is ripped from your chest when his swollen tip hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
JJ doesn’t move, his eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on the feel of your warm, wet pussy wrapped around him. “Fuck, baby. This pussy feels even better than I imagined, so wet and warm, gripping my cock like she was made for me.”
He begins to slowly pull himself out, his eyes watching in awe at how tightly your pussy gripped him, a creamy ring already formed around his cock.
You whimper as he slowly pulls himself from inside you, missing the feel of his thick cock inside you once he fully pulls out. You open your mouth to beg him to put it back in, but he’s harshly slamming back into you before the words come out, making you cry out his name as his tip nudges against your g-spot.
“F-fuck.. JJ, you feel so fucking good, so b-big! Oh, my God.”
JJ’s hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh as he brutally pounds himself into you. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my dick so well, look at how she grips my cock baby. All fuckin’ mine!” he grunts out breathlessly.
Your eyes wander down to where the two of you connect, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, pussy clenching around him tightly from how good it feels to finally feel all of him.
“J-JJ! Fuck, ‘m gonna… ‘M gonna cum! Go harder, please!” you beg, your hands finding his upper arms and gripping at them so hard you feel the skin break beneath your nails.
Your pleas for him to fuck you harder spur him on, his large hands gripping the underside of your ass and lifting you from the countertop. He stills himself inside you, steadying himself and making sure his hold on you is secure before he begins fucking up into you harder, faster.
The room is filled with the lewd squelching of your pussy, skin slapping against skin, and you and JJ’s moans mixing together. Your pussy tightens around him, a sweet tightness building in your lower belly as your orgasm nears. JJ can sense you’re close, his darkened over blue eyes finding yours, “Let go f’me baby. Make a fucking mess all over my cock, wanna feel you come undone around me.”
JJ’s words mixed with his harsh thrusts send you flying off the edge. Your pussy tightens, stars exploding behind your eyes as you come hard, soaking JJ’s cock and thighs. “Fuck! JJ, don’t stop, don’t… Don’t fucking stop!”
“‘M close, princess, gotta… Gotta pull out.” JJ says breathlessly.
You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, burying your face into his neck as your lips attack the skin with bites and kisses. “No! Don’t, don’t pull out, J. Just… Just keep going, shit!”
JJ’s mind goes foggy, hearing you beg him not to pull out was the hottest thing he’d ever heard, and honestly, he didn’t want to pull out, you felt too fucking good to stop. Sure, neither of you were thinking clearly, and he’d definitely have to find the money to buy you a plan B, but it was going to be worth it, to fill your pussy with his cum and watch it drip from your pussy.. Yeah, it was worth it.
His hips begin stuttering, his dick twitching as he thrusts himself up into you a few more times. He feels his dick swell inside you, twitching one final time before the hot ropes of his release spill inside you.
“Ffffuck, baby.” JJ groans, thrusting up one final time.
He sits you back onto the counter, slowly pulling himself from inside you and watching in awe as his thick, white cum leaks from your sensitive hole.
He grins, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “So beautiful when you’re dripping my cum.”
You let out a breathless giggle, your head falling forward as you whisper, “That was worth the wait.. We’re never going back to condoms, ever. ‘Kay?”
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haoboutyou · 2 days
Text
gym crush | choi seungcheol
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fluff | 1151 words | suggestive descriptions. i’m y/n’s just really thirsty
an: please take this as a formal invitation. requests are open! (whether i answer on time is another problem)
you don’t like the gym. absolutely not. it gets super hot and humid inside, it stinks of sweat, and the big machines always intimidate you.
what to do? you’re just a girl.
you usually wouldn’t even phantom the idea of stepping foot into the gym if it wasn’t for your best friend. really, the only reason why you’re even sitting in one right now was because you arrived too early for your meet up with him.
that’s how you ended up perched on a high stool, legs swinging as you patiently look around while soonyoung finishes up his last few sets of… pull-ups? you’re honestly not sure. how he’s still chatting with you while completing his sets – barely panting through it, too – is beyond you.
“so i was thinking,” soonyoung casually starts, lifting himself like he was made of paper. “we can get dinner at the new italian place downtown? i heard they’re having a opening promotion right now.”
“mmh, sounds good.” your eyes are flitting all around the gym, trying to find something interesting enough to catch your attention.
“right, i almost forgot! seokmin texted earlier; he said he’ll drive by to pick us up later too.”
“really? that’s great.” you sound enthusiastic but your hunched posture informs soonyoung otherwise. at this point, your best friend can tell that you’ve tuned out of the conversation. he huffs at the way your eyes zone into the far corner of the gym, where the weight benches are. soonyoung scoffs more when he realises your eyes are trained on a very specific person, watching intently at the way the muscles on his arms bulge every time he lifts a dumbbell.
“yeah, he also said he saw mingyu running into a tree earlier… even said a rat fell on him and started pulling at his hair and controlling him like a robot. do you think the rat would make a better chef than mingyu?”
“wow really? that’s great.” your replies get progressively monotonous as you keep your eyes trained at the corner. yeah, now he definitely knows your mind has completely left the conversation.
your breath hitched as you watched the mystery man run a hand through his faded red hair, baggy t-shirt sleeves hitched up to reveal more of his biceps? triceps? never have you ever wished you paid more attention to your biology lessons back in high school.
everything about this mystery man has you swooning. the thick veins on his hands running up his arms, the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration, how the sweat glistening on his forehead seemed to cast a heavenly glow all around him. you can’t forget the grunts he lets out with every movement, entrancing you with his deep voice. gosh, even his hands are perfect. an angel has descended to soothe all your gym-related problems, converting you into a devout worshipper of his physique.
you’ve never been more thankful for soonyoung’s suggestion to wait in the gym.
soonyoung’s arms may be burning from hanging on the pull-up bar for too long, but he just couldn’t believe his eyes; your mouth is hanging open and– wait, is that drool?! is his best friend really drooling over a man in the gym?!? a laugh of disbelief escapes him as he finishes the last of his rep. soonyoung mutters a quick prayer of thanks to god for gifting him prime blackmailing material. he drops back to the ground and swiftly snaps a picture of you, in all your thirsting glory, before he picks up the rest of his stuff.
“y/n,” he calls out. “i’m gonna hit the showers and then we can go. you good staying here on your own for a bit?”
“yeah, yeah! i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” you wave him off, not even bothering to turn towards your best friend. soonyoung lets out another tut as he turns towards the gym’s locker room. that is, before a brilliant idea comes into mind.
“hyung!”
the red-haired man turns towards soonyoung’s voice. “hoshi, you’re going already?”
your best friend nods his head, grinning at how your eyes seemed to pop out at the way he was casually talking to your new-found eye candy. “are you doing anything tonight? i’m meeting seokmin and the others for dinner later, wanna join?”
“kwon soonyoung!” you whisper-hiss. “what the hell are you doing? you guys know each other!?” is that blush creeping up your neck he sees? the tips of your ears tinge so pink soonyoung thinks he can almost feel the heat radiating from them.
“thanks, but i’ve already got plans.” the mystery stranger shoots you a gentle smile, flirty (flirty?!) wink (WINK?!?) towards you. still, you can’t hide your disappointment; you would’ve loved to get to know this new-found work of art more.. “maybe next time? you can properly introduce me to your pretty friend then too.”
soonyoung thinks he heard a strangled cry from you, coughing as you somehow manage to choke on your own saliva. he chuckles at your suffering. “sure, hyung. i think she’d like that too!”
soonyoung doesn’t know what to expect when he finally emerges from the locker room cleaned and refreshed, but it definitely wasn’t you raining attacks on his sore arms and shoulders. seungcheol (he had introduced himself to you while soonyoung was gone– in fact, the two of you managed a whole conversation while he was gone (no, you were so shy and embarrassed you were barely able to keep eye contact with him)) waves at the both of you as you leave the gym to wait for seokmin to arrive.
you’re convinced the blush on your cheeks is going to be a permanent feature of tonight. it doesn’t help that it becomes the main topic during dinner with seokmin and mingyu, the other two boys cracking up at soonyoung’s dramatic retelling of your new-found gym crush.
(it also doesn’t help that you had a balled up fist under the table all night, hiding the hastily written phone number on a piece of paper that seungcheol had managed to slip to you while you were leaving, mouthing the words ‘call me!’ behind soonyoung’s back.)
-
bonus!
“remember when you couldn’t keep your eyes off me when we first met?” seungcheol swings his arm around you, broad shoulders almost engulfing you whole.
you groan, choosing instead to bury your head into your boyfriend’s chest. soonyoung cackles from across the booth. you have to physically restrain yourself from clawing him alive.
“hyung it wasn’t just that; she was drooling over you!” he wiggles his eyebrows, ignoring the daggers you were staring his way. blush makes its way up your cheeks, dusting them pink.
seungcheol laughs, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.
“if it makes you feel better,” he whispers in your ear. “you were my gym crush too.”
soonyoung almost falls off his seat laughing when you blush even harder.
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waldau · 2 days
Note
I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like
"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"
whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff
this prompt was really cute!!!
gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?
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you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.
you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.
there’s none of that here, in this moment.
you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.
it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.
you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.
a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.
a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.
“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”
so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”
“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”
one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”
“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.
“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.
“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”
you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.
“cheol, let me in.”
“not until you tell me the password.”
“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”
he giggles. “close.”
you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”
he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.
rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.
you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.
it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.
it’s a mess, to say the least.
“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.
you shake your head but no words come out.
“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”
“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”
“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.
you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.
you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.
“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”
“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.
“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”
“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”
but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.
seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”
“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.
“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.
“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.
“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.
“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.
“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.
that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.
you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.
seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”
“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”
seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.
“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”
“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”
“so, a bad week?”
“more than one.”
“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”
you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”
“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”
“yeah?”
“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”
“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”
“hey!”
“also, why were you baking in the first place?”
“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.
“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”
seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu
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ilwonuu · 2 days
Text
𝗋.𝗂.𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁
✩˚。⋆ 𝗅𝖾𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑
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ʚɞ 𝗉����𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀- 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅!𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗑 𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
ʚɞ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒- 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗇.
ʚɞ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌- 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂 𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝖾𝗑(𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆), 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 🫠, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑(𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌,,,𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍), 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄)𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗑 𝗈𝗁𝗆𝗀, 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗑)𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝗆𝗀), 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾(𝗒𝗎𝗆 𝗉𝗍 𝟤) 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌(𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 & 𝗅𝗂𝗑), 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾????
ʚɞ 𝖺/𝗇- 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌𝖻𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗂 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎,,,𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗍 )𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 😭) 𝗈𝗁 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝖿 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 )𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗈����𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇)
“lix are you sure we won’t get caught?” you asked your boyfriend as moves you over to the counter. you and your boyfriend went out with a couple friends to the club. “yes- trust me. stop being so nervous baby. stay there i’m gonna lock this.“ he locks the bathroom door as he comes back you. he turns you over so you’re leaning on the counter looking at him in the reflection.
“gonna get to see how i fuck you.” he smiles at you through the mirror. you smile back at him as you feel you shirt being tugged up your stomach. he pulls your panties to the side as he makes eye contact with you in the mirror. “what’s this? my pretty girl so wet for me hmm. let me get a taste.” he rubs a couple fingers over your wet folds.
“l-lix fuck.” he pushes two fingers inside you fucking them fast into you. “you’re soaking my fingers baby.” he smirks at you through the mirror. he watches you struggle to keep your body stable. his fingers curling a couple times before he pulls them out to put in his mouth. he hums at the taste before spitting in between your legs.
“don’t be too loud okay?” he smiles at you sweetly as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. he is quick to push inside you. you grip the counter to help yourself stay put. “fuck fuck- l-lix.” you moan as he grabs you hair pulling it making your back move closer to his chest. “this fucking pussy- fu-uck. you take it like a slut baby.” his grip against your hair tightens with a slight tug making you moan.
“lix- right- mmm fuck.” you cut yourself off with your eyes rolling back. his hips are fast against yours. “right here? tell me how good it feels.” you nod moaning out. “f-fuck it feels s-so good lixie- wanna cum all over your cock.” he smiles at you.
“you want that baby? i’ll you have it.” he fucks you harder with a smirk. the sound of skin slapping is echoing in the bathroom. you and felix’s moans and groans are consuming each other. “always so wet- you are loving this aren’t you baby? me fucking you in the club bathroom. having my perfect girl go dumb on my cock. yea you love it you just got so fucking tight-“ you can’t even respond your eyes a glued shut as your moan as slipping from your mouth sinfully.
“open your eyes. watch me fuck you.” he whispers into your ear with a smirk. his hand still has a handful of your hair. you open your eyes to see him already looking at you. “there she is. my darling feel too good can’t keep those pretty eyes open f’me?” you nod blushing a little at the nickname. “l-lix i’m gonna f-fucking cum.” he shakes his head. “not yet darling. take it for a little longer for me yea?” he asks you with an innocent smile through the mirror. “y-yes fuck lix.” your eyes shut at the pleasure.
“what’d i say? keep those eyes open.” his grip on your hair tightens with a groan from him. “b-but lix- it f-feels- too much.” he smirks at you leaning now to kiss your neck. “go ahead and come for me.” he whispers into your skin. his words are more of a command but it’s enough to have you clenching around him. you come undone with a loud groan. felix watches you through the mirror with a lust filled expression. his hips fuck you through your high roughly as he is chasing his high.
“want me to cum inside?” he smirks at you softly as he kisses your neck. he pulls your head to one side by your head as you quickly nod you head. “please please lix- want it s-so bad.” he sighs.
“you’re so fucking pretty when you beg. how can i not cum in this pretty pussy now?” the two of you are somewhat interrupted with knocking from someone wanting to use the bathroom. you jump at the noise but your attention is brought back to your boyfriend as he keeps moving his hips. “fuck- i’m coming.” he groans throwing his head back as his cum fills you up. “i love this pussy god fuck.” he laughs as he grabs paper towels to clean you off.
“they’re gonna yell at us when we leave the bathroom.” he shrugs turning you around and pulling your skirt back up after fixing his pants. “let’s go.” there’s was a long like outside the door when the two of you exited. “fucking finally- don’t lock the fucking door idiot.” some said to the two of you as people start to flood in the bathroom. you blush out of embarrassment. “don’t worry about them. let’s go home so i can fuck you again.”
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pandoraslxna · 2 days
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📝 neteyam + human reader with an age gap!!
Olo’eyktan Neteyam x female human reader, minors dni 🔞
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The olo’eyktan has long suspected, the clothes of his people would suit you well.
You’re a vision bought to him by eywa herself when you emerge from the other room. Such a young, naive thing, with the most fetching, delicate blush creeping across your cheeks. There's so much to take in, Neteyam thinks his eyes might pop out of his head.
Those smooth, young, perfect legs peeking out from under the tiny little loincloth make him swallow the salvia that’s pooling in his mouth, but the sight of your barely covered chest is even better. Just a few feathers, woven together like a necklace, are covering your firm breasts and Neteyam has to hold back to reach out and touch them, hold them in his palm.
"You’re staring," you mumble quietly, biting a perfectly plump lower lip. "This is so embarrassing…" Great mother, you’re too precious.
"You look perfect, like a beautiful little doll," he assures you and your brows furrow, wondering how he would know what a doll even looks like. "Better than any na’vi woman."
You can’t help but snort and roll your eyes at that, because you know it’s not true.
"Now now," he says with a chuckle, "Aren't you being a little ungrateful? You shouldn’t roll your eyes at your olo’eyktan. Especially not, after you’ve just received a gift."
Neteyam tips your chin up with a finger and you feel yourself crumbling under the intense gaze of his golden orbs. "S-Sorry", you manage to force out. "Sorry, sir", you add quickly.
"I'm offended," Neteyam sighs, but the fainted smile is gazing his lips, telling you, that is is all part of the game. "You'd better make it up to me, little tawtute [human]."
And what a perfect little doll you make, surely, when you get down onto your knees and, oh great mother, he's already half-stacked just from the blush in your cheeks and those big doe eyes staring up at him. There's hesitance right before you gives kittenish licks over his rapidly stiffening cock. Neteyam groans, lays it all out over those wonderful soft lips.
"Sir, I, what if… what if I make them dirty?" You stammer, glancing down at the neatlywoven fabric of your loincloth, specifically made to fit your much smaller physique.
"Then you'd better not spill any, paskalin [honey]," he purrs, mapping the outline of your lips with his smooth tip.
And then he pushes forward, urging you to open your mouth and start to suck. What a perfect little angel in those perfect little clothes, he thinks with a grin. You do your very best not to choke on his cock, but it’s especially hard given the difference in size between the both of you. His tip is already in your throat, but he’s not even halfway inside you yet.
Still, you’re genuinely concerned about spoiling his gift, and so, when Neteyam releases (quickly, too fucking quickly when his young tawtute toy was working her magic like that), you swallow it with the most adorable little gulping sound.
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rynwritesreid · 6 hours
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Idea for fic: enemies to lovers Dom older Spencer and f reader with age gap can’t stand eachother at work and then away on a case they get paired up to be in a room and there’s one bed anyways reader goes and showers and comes out wearing nothing but her bra and panties since she left her tank top the bed and Spencer is shocked and teases her all night and thennnnn rest is history😏
A/N: has this been sat in my inbox for over 3 months? Yes. I hope this makes up for the wait, sorry it tool awhile :( but I did see it when it was first asked, but I’ve been dealing with a lot in the past few months, and I’ve been dealing with some writers block. But I hope you guys enjoy it :)
Summary: Basically what ANON asked for. Spencer and reader hate each other, but Emily has a plan that could resolve all the issues or make them worse.
Content: Fem!reader. Dom!Reid/Sub!reader. Use of Y/N. Spanking. Degradation kink. Praise Kink. Power imbalance kink (kind off). Use of sir, slut, good girl and sweetheart. PinV/creampie. No mentions of contraception. No mentions of aftercare.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
You and Spencer hated each other. Maybe it’s because Spencer felt genuine competition from you, or maybe it was because you seemed to effortlessly outshine him in everything you did. And well you hated him, because every time Spencer walked into a room, he carried with him an air of superiority that grated against your nerves. You could see the jealousy in his eyes whenever someone praised your work or complimented your achievements.
Everyone had grown tired of the way you both acted around here. Emily would often call you both into her office to yell, “You are two of the best agents. Two brilliant minds. And yet no one can stand to be in the same room as you two.” 
You both sat in Emily's office, the tension thick between you. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as Emily’s words hung heavily in the air. You couldn't deny the truth in Emily's words - your rivalry with Spencer had reached a breaking point, affecting not only your own work but the entire team dynamic.
Emily heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair before continuing, "This behaviour ends now. I'm not going to tolerate this any longer. I need you two to figure out a way to work together, or I will have no choice but to reassign one of you."
*
“Oh, my god. Reid, do you ever shut up?” you muttered under your breath, unable to hide your irritation at Spencer's endless rambling. 
Spencer shot you a glare, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed. "At least I have something worthwhile to say, unlike you," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, please. Your so-called facts and statistics don't mean anything in the field. It's called real-life experience, something you clearly lack."
“Lacking real-life experience? Really?” Spencer paused, his voice fuelled with anger “I am older than you, and I have experienced things you wouldn’t even believe.”
Spencer's outburst surprised you, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard.
“Whatever you say, Dr Reid. From now on I’ll just worship the ground you walk on, shall I?” you retorted, trying to mask your unease with a casual tone. Inside, you felt a twinge of admiration for his ability to get under your skin so easily.
Emily glared at you both from across the room, she knew she had to put an end to this, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.
Spencer's nostrils flared with indignation at your remark, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Emily's stern voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"That's enough!" Emily's command was sharp, her gaze piercing. "I've had it with this childish bickering between you two. This behaviour is unprofessional and completely unacceptable."
You both fell silent under Emily's unwavering stare, guilt creeping into your conscience as her words echoed in the room. The weight of her disappointment hung heavy in the air, suffocating the animosity between you and Spencer.
"I don't care who started it or whose ego is hurt more," Emily continued, her tone firm. "What I care about is that you two find a way to work together effectively. The team's safety and success depend on it."
*
Emily was sick and tired of how the both of you acted, and she knew she needed to act fast. She didn’t want to lose either of you, but she also couldn’t let things carry on. So, she devised a plan, one that could go horribly wrong or one that could go perfectly. 
*
“Hey, everybody.” Emily’s voice echoed through the jet, “the hotel we are staying at doesn’t have enough rooms for us all to have our own.” She paused for a brief second, she didn’t want anyone to catch on to her, “so, Rossi and I will have our own room. Tara and JJ, you’ll share, Luke and Matt you’ll share and erm… Y/N and Reid you guys will also be sharing.”
You exchanged a wary glance with Spencer as Emily assigned you to share a room. “Emily, I’m sorry. But what is this? You expect me to share a room with Reid? Also assigning us rooms, what are we like thirteen or something?” you scoffed, the incredulity evident in your voice. Spencer's expression mirrored your own disbelief, his eyes widening in surprise at Emily's unexpected announcement.
Emily raised an eyebrow at your protest, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, I expect you two to share a room. It's high time you both learn to work together and put your differences aside. Consider this a team-building exercise," she stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.
You opened your mouth to protest further, but Emily's steely glare silenced any objections before they could form.
*
“Seriously, one bed. Is she serious. I hate her, just as much as I hate you.” you spat out, glaring at Spencer as you both entered the hotel room assigned to you. The tension between you was palpable, suffocating the space as you stood on opposite sides of the room. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of Spencer's exasperated sigh.
"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," Spencer shot back, his tone laced with irritation as he surveyed the small room. The single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room seemed to mock your predicament, a constant reminder of the forced proximity between you.
“Because, unlike you, I’m nice. You can have the bed, as long as I can shower first.” You retorted, determined not to back down in this battle of wills. Spencer's jaw clenched at your words, a muscle ticking in his temple as he fought to keep his composure.
"Fine. Just make it quick," Spencer replied through gritted teeth, his pride wounded by the concession. 
Before you headed towards the shower, you started to unpack, you hated keeping everything in your bag when you were in the hotel room. Once, you had finished you grabbed your essentials and headed towards the bathroom without so much as muttering a word to Spencer.
Spencer watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, the click of the door echoing in the tense silence of the room. Alone now, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The mere thought of sharing a room with you made his skin crawl, but he knew Emily's intentions were well-meaning, if not a little misguided.
The rush of the warm water against your skin did little to soothe the simmering frustration that lingered within you. As the steam filled the bathroom, you tried to shake off the tension that had built up between you and Spencer. But every time you closed your eyes, his infuriating presence seemed to seep through the cracks of your composure.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” As you looked at the pile of clothes you had in the bathroom, you realised you hadn’t brought in your PJs, and all you had was a pair of panties and a bra. You were too embarrassed to ask Spencer to bring you the rest of your clothes. 
You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options, but you weren’t going to be admitting defeat anytime soon, and maybe some part of you wanted to flaunt to Spencer something he could never have.
You dried yourself off and stepped out of the bathroom in just your underwear. Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief as you emerged from the bathroom clad only in your underwear, the audacity of your actions catching him off guard. His cheeks flushed with a deep crimson hue, his gaze darting away as if to shield himself from the unexpected sight before him.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Spencer’s voice wavered slightly, a mix of shock and embarrassment colouring his tone. He struggled to maintain eye contact, opting instead to focus on a random spot on the wall.
You couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, a sense of satisfaction blooming within you at having turned the tables on Spencer for once. The power shift in the room was palpable, the tension crackling between you in a different way now.
“Just grabbing my clothes,” you stated nonchalantly, making no move to cover up as you retrieved your pyjamas. “Do you like what you see, Spencer?”
Spencer's cheeks burned hotter at your teasing words, his jaw clenching in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He struggled to find the right response, his mind racing to come up with a comeback that would regain the upper hand in this unexpected exchange.
"Very funny," Spencer finally managed to choke out, his tone strained as he averted his gaze, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you had made him. 
“You know the way you’re acting right now, Y/N, isn’t of someone who hates me.” Spencer teased through gritted teeth, his attempt at levity falling flat in the charged atmosphere of the room. Your smirk faltered for a split second at his remark, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing your features before you regained your composure, your mask slipping back into place.
"Let's get one thing straight, Spencer," you retorted, your tone firm as you met his gaze head-on. "Just because I'm not actively trying to strangle you right now doesn't mean I don't still think you're insufferable." The underlying tension between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting to reignite at the slightest provocation.
Spencer raised an eyebrow at your response, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “Or you’re not actively strangling me, because you’d rather I’d be doing that to you.” Spencer paused, the words hanging in the charged air between you. His attempt at humour fell flat, the gravity of the situation pulling at the corners of his smile.
“What? No. What?” It was your turn to be embarrassed now as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at Spencer's unexpected remark.
“Oh, so I’m right. You do like the idea of me choking you.” Spencer paused, his eyes widening in realization at the slip of his words. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension between you both reaching a new peak as his inadvertent confession hung in the air, heavy and loaded with unspoken implications.
You swallowed hard, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. Spencer's gaze bore into yours, searching for a reaction, for any sign of the impact his words had made. And in that charged moment, something shifted between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer even as you both stood at opposite ends of the room.
“Spencer, I…” your voice wavered, uncertainty creeping into your tone as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy between you, begging for acknowledgement, for resolution. 
“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. Brats like you always act out when they are attracted to someone.” Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to you. The air between you crackled with a newfound vulnerability, baring emotions that had long been buried beneath layers of animosity and pride.
“Spencer, you have a very active imagination. I have, erm, I have never thought of you like that.” You stumbled over your words, the admission weighing heavily on your conscience. Spencer's expression softened at your response, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he processed your words.
“I do not believe that for one second, sweetheart.” Spencer 's voice was barely above a whisper, his words laced with a raw honesty that left no room for doubt. The tension in the room had shifted once again, morphing into a charged undercurrent that pulsed between you, drawing you closer in a dance as old as time.
In one swift motion, Spencer seemed to have place you on top of his lap, your ass up in the air, and the palm of his hand striking against your backside.
Your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as Spencer's touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. The sting of his hand against your skin reverberated through your body, igniting a primal fire that had long been smouldering beneath the surface. 
“Now, you’re going to be a good girl, and say thank you after every time I spank you.” Spencer paused, his voice low and commanding as he laid down the rules of their newfound dynamic. Your head spun with a mixture of confusion and a strange exhilaration at the turn of events, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses.
“Yes, sir.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you complied with Spencer's demand, the unfamiliar title sending a thrill down your spine. Each strike of his hand against your skin sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a heady mix of pain and desire intertwining in a dangerous dance.
“Are you sorry for been a brat? For constantly picking fights with me over nothing? For making Emily do this, just so I can use you like the slut you are.” Spencer paused; his voice laced with a deliberate edge as he pushed the boundaries of your newfound dynamic. Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a surge of conflicting emotions crashing over you. The raw honesty in Spencer's tone stripped away the layers of pretence between you, exposing the raw desire that simmered beneath the surface.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of submission and defiance.
Spencer’s hand moved over your panties, so he could feel the ever-growing wet patch. “Do you like that? You like calling me sir, and me calling you a slut. You know for the type of brat you are out in the office or in the field, you break a lot easier than expected.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Spencer's words sent a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through you. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, the boundaries between desire and shame blurring as his touch ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second.
“Yes, sir.” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensations that pulsed through your body. The weight of his hand against your skin, the pressure of his touch against your most intimate places, all served to push you to the brink of a precipice you had never dared to explore before.
“Good girl, now stand up and take off your bra and panties.” Spencer demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
With trembling hands, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then, you stepped out of your panties, your legs feeling unsteady as you stood there before him, naked and exposed. The air between you was thick with desire, and you could feel Spencer's gaze raking over your body, devouring every inch of you.
"Now, bend over the table," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You did as he said, your hands gripping the edge of the table as you lowered your body, presenting yourself to him. The cool surface of the table against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside you. You could feel the moisture between your legs as it dripped down your thighs, a testament to the arousal that was consuming you.
Spencer stepped closer to you, his cock hard and pulsating with need. He ran his fingers through your hair, tangling them in the strands as he pulled your head back, his gaze never wavering from your exposed ass.
"You're such a naughty little slut, aren't you?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know you want this, don't you? You've been craving my cock since the first day we met."
You could only nod in response, your body trembling with anticipation as his erection pressed against your wet sex.
"Good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you, too."
With one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust inside you in one smooth motion. Your eyes widened at the sudden invasion, the pleasure and pain intermingling in a way that was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.
You gasped, arching your back as his cock filled you completely. Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move within you. His thrusts were rhythmic and powerful, filling you to the brim with each movement.
Your moans filled the room as Spencer's cock slid in and out of you, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he fucked you hard and rough. Your mind was a blur of mixed emotions, guilt mingling with desire as you surrendered to the animalistic lust that was consuming you.
You could feel his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Your legs were trembling with each movement, your body submitting to his every command.
"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and wet. Just the way I always imagined you would be."
His words sent a rush of pleasure through you, making you clench around his cock. Spencer thrust deeper, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that had you gasping for breath.
"Tell me you want me, baby," he growled, his voice harsh with need. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."
You couldn't form words, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure and desire. All you could do was cry out and arch your back, begging for more.
"Please, please, please," you moaned, your voice ragged with need. "More, oh please, more."
Spencer's smile was wicked, his eyes dark and full of lust. "Tell me you want me, baby," he demanded, holding your hips tight as he thrust into you.
"I want you, oh, I want you so fucking much!" you cried out, your body writhing beneath him. Your nails dug into the edge of the table, your legs trembling as you pushed back against him, taking him deeper inside you.
His thrusts became harder, faster, each one a razor's edge of pleasure and pain. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips, his breath hot against your skin as he possessed you completely.
"Tell me, slut," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me you're mine, and that you'll do anything I say."
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
"I'm yours, sir," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the power, he held over you. "I'll do anything you say."
Spencer's eyes widened at your submission, a sense of triumph and desire flooding his entire being. He thrusted deeper into you, his cock aching to be buried inside you even further.
Your moans grew louder, your body shaking with every thrust as he took control of you. The power he wielded over you sent ripples of ecstasy through your entire being, your mind hazy with pleasure.
"That's it, baby, let me hear you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me how much you love taking my cock, how much you love feeling me inside you."
You couldn't form words, your breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. Your fingernails left marks on the edge of the table, your body writhing under his assault.
"Mmm, that's it, tell me baby," he urged, his hips moving in a relay and powerful stroke. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you, how much you need it."
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, and your entire body was on fire with pleasure and desire.
"Say it, baby," he demanded, his voice growing rough with need. "Say you love my cock inside you."
"I-I love your cock inside me," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you, please don't stop."
Spencer's eyes darkened at your plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder. Your moans filled the room, your body arching and begging for more. You could feel the tension building, the wave of pleasure and desire crashing over you.
"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Come for me, let go of all that pleasure and surrender to me completely."
Your body shuddered, your moans growing louder as the orgasm overwhelmed you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through Spencer's entire being.
He continued to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of you in a relentless rhythm. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with each movement. 
You could tell Spencer wasn’t far off from his own release, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust.
The feeling of him inside you was indescribable, the intensity of your orgasm mixing with the pleasure of him taking you so roughly. You could feel him hardening even more, his cock pulsating with need as he fucked you deeper and faster.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
Your mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, pleasure, and lust mingling with the desire to please him. You wanted him to take you, to possess you completely.
"Yes, sir, fill me up," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside me."
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Winter's King 13
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: Ahhh! I almost own a house.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
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The queen struts down the hall, the white satin limning her figure. She is shameless as she passes soldiers but she needn’t worry for their judgments. You peek up at the few errant eyes that follow her, though many pass without even a glance in her direction. Servants course through the corridors, busy with preparations for the morrow’s departure. 
You think of asking Queen Jazlene whether now is not the best time. If she should be more concerned with her venture north. Of all she’s acquired of the queen’s former possessions, there is not a fur among her chests. Nothing more than a trim of squirrel or rabbit along a collar. The summer kingdom does not warrant the need. And certainly, you think, the king must be equally busied by the pending journey. 
As ever, your duty keeps you silent. You do not know better than a queen. You bide her whims, not your own. You follow the soft whisk of the robes hem and your mind wanders in your stead. You think of the dark gardens and the king’s words. 
‘Should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.’ He must be eager to return home. You can’t help but harbour your own impatience. For all you’ve heard of the Hinterlands, you cannot picture them well. You want to see them yourself. It is the only time in your life you really ever longed to see something entirely unfamiliar. 
The queen stops and the soldiers on either side of the door shift, alert at her approach. The do not look welcoming. You wring your hands behind your back. What can you do but let the queen proceed? 
“Let me through,” she demands, “I must see the king.” 
“Your highness,” the rusty-haired soldier drawls, “he is not receiving--” 
“He is my husband,” she sneers, “I am the queen.” She points to herself, “I give you orders, sir. Not the reverse.” 
The other man huffs and tilts his head to the other as if to say, ‘don’t bother’. The first soldier raises his elbow to hit the door beside him. 
“Your highness, you have a visitor,” he calls through. 
“A visitor?” Jazlene scoffs and steps forward, grabbing the handles of the doors to try to force her way through. “I am more--” She shakes the doors as they offer resistance from the other side. You can see clearly through the crack between them that they are latched within. 
The metal grinds inside as the lock is slid out of place. The queen blusters through as a dark-haired man stands by the left door, watching behind her as she blows in like a storm. You pause in the doorway, uncertain if you should go further. 
The king sits at the table of his receiving chamber, maps unfurled and kept unrolled by heavy ornaments. He has one arm on the chair and his other hand against the tabletop. He watches his wife with his golden eyes, his lips straight and unamused. The man who opened the door, watches with a crooked grin. 
“Husband, I have come to see you. As we have much travel ahead, I figured it was the best time for us to--” 
“The best time?” King Geralt ponders flatly, “we ready for the ride north. We must anticipate the remaining rebels and assuage lingering acrimony. We must also account for the snows that will meet us in the Hinterland. This campaign has kept me long and the winter will be there to greet us.” 
“Let the servants trouble for it,” she insists. 
The man by the door flutters his fingers at you, “in?” He mouths. 
You blink, uncertain. You step inside hesitantly and step to the edge of the other door. He pushes the left one shut and turns to watch the interaction with glee. 
“You should trouble for it,” the king reproaches, “you should act as queen and so you should think of your people.” 
“Husband, do not presume to educate me. I have had tutors all my life. I understand these things. I was borne to be a lady, to mind a castle--” 
“A castle not a realm,” he shakes his head, “this is no banquet.” 
“Ugh,” she huffs, “what has gotten into you? Last night--” 
“It is today,” he insists over her, “I am occupied.” He shifts his chair pointed and frames an area on the maps with his large hands. “Jaskier,” he calls, “come, we must determine our way through Hare’s Pass.” 
“Your highness,” the man jaunts forward bouncily and as he nears the table, he pulls out a chair, “Queen Jazlene, please, have my seat.” 
The king looks at his companion with a deathly glimmer. The lord in his cornflower jacket is unbothered by the distaste aimed in his direction. He smirks back defiantly. 
“Thank you, sir,” Jazlene simpers and sits with her back straight and her chest pushed out, “I think I’ve forgotten which one you are.” 
“Lord Jaskier,” he intones, “I held the capital while the king claimed his beautiful wife.” 
She giggles and runs her hand along the front of her robe, “oh, how valiant, sir.” 
“Jaskier,” the king growls again, “put your mind back to the road--” 
“We have it figured, your highness,” the lord rebuffs, “surely you should enjoy this time you have in one place with your wife.” Jaskier takes another stool and sits at the table, “I should very much like to know this summer queen better. You secret her away--” 
The king sighs. His fingers tap in irritation on the table. He sits back and throws his hand up. 
“I see you are no help, as usual,” the king snips. 
“And you are tedious,” the lord smirks again. “My queen,” the man sits forward, his attention on Jazlene, “I traveled the summer lands once before. You see, I fancy myself a musician and as a young boy, I would play for the courts. I never ventured to Debray but I was at Harlowe. It is closeby.” 
“I know Harlowe,” Jazlene brightens, forgetting her mission for talk of herself. “Yes, I went there often for their harvest fairs. Were you there when Lord Edmund was still alive?” 
“Ah, yes, I believe he wasn’t there long after I left for the next county,” Jaskier artfully feeds her self-importance. 
“He was a good man. Of the few my father respected,” she mourns with her hand to her chest. She shakes her head and pauses with a sullen sigh, “maid,” she snaps her head up, “bring wine for us.” 
“No wine,” King Geralt counters swiftly. 
“We have a guest, husband, surely we should entertain him according to etiquette. In these summer lands, we offer sustenance to our guests,” she argues. 
“Bring warm milk then. You needn’t be glazed over with wine on the morrow--” 
“I am the queen and I am grown, I will have wine,” Jazlene waves her hand at you tersely, “maid!” 
The king glances at you. You stand in indecision. You can defy neither but in that moment, you must choose one or the other. His golden eyes drift over to the queen and back to you. 
“Go, fetch wine,” he relents. 
You bow your head and spin to set off on the task. Your thankful to escape the tension that floods the room. You can sense that the queen’s intrusion is unwelcome and yet that lord ignores the king’s mood. Almost as if he means to agitate him. 
You weave through the disarray of the corridors down to the kitchen. Barrels of pickled foods and crates of dried goods are stacked, waiting to be loaded onto carts for the distance ahead. The king must still think of feeding his army, and now, a royal retinue. 
You claim a bottle of wine amid the hectic furor and some goblets. You’re out of breath as you return to the upper floors and slow yourself to regain composure as you approach the king’s chamber. You’re let within without obstruction. Just the maid. 
You cross to the table and set the goblets upright, then the heavy bottle. Jazlene ahems and taps the brim impatient before you can uncork the bottle. The neck moves away from your reach as Lord Jaskier snatches it instead. He opens it easily and pours the queen a cup as the king leans heavily on an elbow. As you glance over, you meet his golden eyes and quickly shy away. You see he is not happy. You thought by Jazlene’s measure, thing’s might have been improving. 
You take your place by the wall. The king sighs. He does that a lot, as if he means to say something but will not. Lord Jaskier slides a goblet towards him. 
“Drink and let loose, your highness, you can’t be surly upon the road,” Jaskier chides. 
The king does not move. He glares at his company then looks at the ceiling. Queen Jazlene slurps loudly. 
“How charming you are, my lord, a wonder his highness likes you so much,” she chirps. 
“A surprise to me as well but I think my loyalty more tolerable than my other traits. Yet, you’ve yet to the king bellowing the most bawdy ballad. He is particular lively after a battle,” Jaskier winks at his liege tauntingly and receives nothing in return. “Mm, how about a game? The king is fond of those. How about it, then?” 
The lord lifts his cup and holds it before his lips, watching the king in his cantankerous glower. Another sigh as he sits forwards and tilts a hand indifferently.  
“If it keeps you from chattering,” the king mutters as he clears the heavy ornaments and rolls the map up. He focuses on that as Jaskier pulls a pouch free of his belt. 
“This is one he taught me. The old king before him was fond of it too. The mind’s of rulers, hm?” Jaskier explains as he loosens the tie of the bag and pours out similar pieces to the ones in Geralt’s purse. “Have you played it?” 
Jazlene keeps her hand on her cup. The king continues to clear the table, pushing aside the cup meant for him as he shifts the bottle off another map. He stands and gathers the rolled parchment. He approaches you. 
“Bring these to my bedchamber,” he bids under his breath. 
As you take them, your sleeves brush his and his fingers drag along the fabric of your dress. He stares down at you, his breath fuming like a hearth. You hug the maps and he backs away, returning to the table. You take your order and find your way through the east door into his bed chamber. 
You set down the maps on the chest near the foot of the grand bed. His sword leans against the frame, tall in its sheath. You stop to admire the thick handle and its well-hewn grooves. It must be heavy. 
You tear your admiration from the weapon and return to the receiving chamber. Jaskier reviews the rules as Geralt rolls his fingers against the armrest, bored by the explanation. You resume your vigil and stare at the wall. 
Pieces are dolled out, dice are counted, and the round begins. The king is let to have the first turn. He plays the same as he did against you. It must be some strategy. The queen is prompted to have her go but she is silent. She hums and stares down at the table. Jaskier whispers behind his hand, drawing your gaze. 
“Let her play her own turn,” the king insists, “isn’t any fun playing against two of you.” 
“Your highness, I was only doing my duty as a royal advisor,” Jaskier returns playfully. “By all means, my beautiful queen, I am certain you are as a clever as you are elegant.” 
Jazlene preens in the praise. She drinks some more wine then rolls a dice, seemingly without thought. Several of her pieces are plucked up by both king and lord. She pouts. 
“Wait, what happened?” She mopes. 
“Rules,” Geralt grumbles. “Jaskier, go on then, take my bronze.” 
“I know your tricks,” the lord replies, “I will not fall for it. I’ll have your silver.” 
Jaskier rolls the diamond dice and groans. The king takes his silver instead. 
“You’ve switched out the dice, certainly,” Jaskier accuses. 
“You whine about chance,” the king rebukes and rolls, taking even more silver from his advisor. “And again.” 
He gestures to Jazlene and her brow ripples. You can see she doesn’t understand. She will want to use the square dice then, she might have the iron back that she lost. She uses the slightly rounded die instead. Jaskier is already counting her gold. 
“I don’t understand,” she crosses her arms, “this game makes no sense.” 
“It is your first attempt,” Jaskier assures her, “you will get better.” 
“It’s boring,” she sits back and drinks more wine. 
Jaskier has a swig of his own as he rolls. He claims his silver back from the king and some from Jazlene. She shakes her head and waves you over with her hand. You can see her goblet is empty as you near. You lift the bottle to pour as the king has his turn. He loses a few iron but doesn’t seem to mind. 
The queen’s turn comes and you linger, examining her pieces. Your lips move slightly. Square, square, square. Your eyes flit up and find the king’s watching you. Oh no. 
“Wine, maid,” Jaskier clunks down his cup with a hollow noise. 
You move around Jazlene’s chair as she snarls under her breath. She rolls the triangle die. Her gold is all gone. She slaps her hands down and you rescind the bottle before you can pour as Jaskier’s cup wobbles. He laughs at the queen’s dismay and she sweeps away her pieces and dice before she can lose. 
“It isn’t fair! I don’t understand.” 
“If you don’t understand, ask. Do not be impetulant,” King Geralt reprimands. “You make a mess like a child.” 
“Do not speak to me as one,” she spits back. “I am not!” 
“Your behaviour would suggest otherwise,” the king says. 
“Now, now, perhaps it would be fairer with a forth, eh? Trios always do prove imbalanced,” Jaskier intones.  
As you go to pour the wine, you are suddenly pulled off your feet. You land in his lap and nearly drop the bottle. You hug it close as you notice the king lurch, sitting straight, only to stop himself on the edge of his chair. 
“Eh, do not handle the maid as such,” he demands. “She serves the queen.” 
“She may join us, yes? The queen could have an ally. We will play as pairs.” 
“Let the maid go,” the king grits. 
“Oh, do settle,” Jaskier unhooks his arm from around you. You stand and let your nerves settle, steadying your hands to pour the wine. “You are no fun, your highness.” 
Jazlene giggles, “oh he certainly is not. So dour,” she sounds like Lady Rezlyn in that moment. Often the duchess would throw barbs at her husband shamelessly. “Even his games are dull.” 
“You needn’t play,” King Geralt shoves his chair back and stands, “it was not my suggestion.” 
“She is right. You are much too serious,” Jaskier remarks. 
You leave the wine and back away. The air is thick. You feel as if you should go but cannot without dismissal. The king roils hotly as he exhales loudly. 
“Far too serious,” Jazlene trills, “he hasn’t time for any sort of fun, has he? He must attend his kingly duties and yet, he neglects his husbandly ones.” 
The king lets out a growl. He sneers at his wife as Jaskier’s laughter subsides. The lord looks alarmed as he peeks between the royal couples. 
“Mm, suppose it is time I see to my own luggage,” he rises. 
“No, stay, drink your wine,” King Geralt insists brusquely, “you and the queen can have mine,” he grips the goblet by the brim and shoves it towards Jazlene as the contents slosh. “You will find me attending my dour kingly duties, should you think to recall your own.” 
The king spins and stalks off, hands in fists, and bulls through the doors. They slam behind him and make you jump. You blink at the wood as your heart pounds. For as much as the queen wants her marriage to improve, she is hardly helping herself. 
“Ah,” Jaskier sits with a tut, “he can be a touch sensitive, can’t he?” 
Jazlene laughs, though you hear the nervous rattle in it, “can’t he?” 
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joeloverture · 4 hours
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fair's fair | pervy!dbf!joel x f!reader
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pairing: pervy!dbf!joel x pervy!f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel shoves you in his sweaty pits as a 'joke'. warnings: (18+ mdni) pervy!dbf!joel, age gap (early to mid 20s/38), somewhat mutual pining & sexual tension, joel in a wifebeater and jorts, reader has hair, smacking joel's ass like god intended, degradation, sweaty!joel, musk kink, armpit kink!!!, coming untouched, joel calls reader 'kiddo', 2 spanks, m!masturbation [no use of y/n] word count: 2.1k a/n: in another life, i'd be sorry for this fic. in this life, i am not. as always, a shoutout to the effervescent @lovesickonmybed for moodboard curation + creating this au. love to @seventeenpins for taking a glimpse at this + inspiring me. ty esquire team.... hooooly shit. pls suspend your disbelief if you can't come untouched we're here for a good time not a realistic one. btw you're all pussies for chickening out of the pit fics you 'planned' to write after this esquire photo fell into our laps /j
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You awake to a rattling crash on the other side of the wall that you share with your dad’s combination garage/man cave. With an exaggerated groan, you peel yourself out of your creased sheets. Maybe the raccoons that have been terrorizing your garbage cans have finally broken into the garage. You’re still in your pajamas — a low-cut tank top and some bloomers that are entirely too short on you — when you rub the sleep from your eyes and shove your feet into your slippers to investigate. 
The house is quieter than dust so early in the morning. Your dad’s out at work, and the rest of the neighborhood is just beginning to wake up. There’s the tstststststs of the Adler’s sprinkler system and the birds are chirping. In the mudroom, you snatch up a broom and wrap your fist around it. You listen through the paneling of the door for any hissing or scuttling, but hear nothing. You are not looking to get rabies today.
You poke your head out of the door, broom pointed at the ground like a staff. Immediately, you’re blinded by a slice of sunshine cutting through the very much open garage.
You’re about two seconds away from sprinting back inside to call 911 when you see the unkempt, sunkissed hair of none other than Joel Miller.
You set the broom gently back against the wall. Joel’s not a threat – at least not to anything but that traitor between your legs. He’s just your dad’s buddy; drinking buddy, fishing buddy, jack-of-all-trades buddy. He’s also no stranger to those borderline goo-goo eyes you give him. How could you not? He’s just so broad and muscled and God, you swear up and down that you stare more at his ass than anyone has ever stared at yours.
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, he’ll even give you shit about it. Bending over directly in your line of sight at block parties, ‘play wrestling’ with you on the dock by the lake whenever you jokingly call him an old man, or, in one very special instant, giving your ass a smack that sent you into an hours long tizzy.
You deserve to give him shit about it, too.
After all, he’s the one ferreting around in your dad’s garage in the wee hours of the morning. You pad into the garage, footsteps muffled by your slippers as you navigate around your dad’s pickup. You catch a better look at Joel when you pass the truck bed. And, for better or for worse, he’s dressed like a slut.
His ribbed white wifebeater stretches over his wide chest, grass stains scattered along the small of his back. Sweat darkens the hems of his shirt under his armpits, glistening and beading on the back of his neck, too. In true dad fashion, he even has on jorts. He’s bent over your dad’s tool bench, thumbing around an assortment of screwdrivers. His denim-covered ass sticks out. A smile spreads across your face.
You slip around the truck and take soft step after soft step until you’re right behind him. You can’t help but notice a cocktail of his pheromones and B.O. surrounding him. He must’ve been outside for a while now with all of the stains he’s accumulated on his shirt already. You keep your breathing muted so he can’t hear you as you reach out and — smack!
Joel shrieks, shooting upright. His head slams into the shelf overhead and a few bolts go toppling onto the concrete below. He cusses like a sailor as his hand goes up to rub the back of his head, nursing where a lump will probably be in a few hours time. Joel whips around to see you, smothering your giggles behind your hand. “You little shit,” he huffs, still scratching at his head. You don’t miss how his cheeks are firetruck red. “The fuck are ya doin’?”
“Me? The fuck are you doing, Miller? Stomping around my dad’s garage at, like, the asscrack of dawn–”
“Nine in the mornin’ ain’t the asscrack of dawn, sweetcheeks,” Joel says. Then, he holds up a set of pliers. “Mower shit the bed. I’m thinkin’ Sarah stole my pliers to make necklaces, but she hasn’t fessed up yet. Your pops said I could borrow his.” He stretches, giving you a long whiff of his scent. The groan he lets out stirs something in your stomach, much to your chagrin.
“I think the mower is the least of your worries,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “You reek. Shower shit the bed, too?”
“You try doin’ yard work in 90 degree heat, kiddo. See how much you smell like that strawberry raspberry peach whatever-the-fuck soap you’re usin’.”
You roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised you don’t see the back of your skull. “Rosemary eucalyptus,” you correct under your breath.
“Hmm, what was that?” Joel asks, tossing the pliers down onto the workbench. “Gotta speak up.”
“Rosemary eucalyptus,” you say. “But I bet you wouldn’t know. What do you use? 18 in 1?”
Joel grunts. “Real funny.” He takes a step closer to you, lips taut with a smirk. “How ‘bout you find out?”
You don’t have time to question what the hell he means – he just cups the back of your head with one of his wide palms and shoves your face directly into his closest sweaty pit. “Mmmmph!” you protest, mouth sealed shut against the thatch of hair that’s spattered across his skin. You hold your breath for as long as you can, but eventually, you’re forced to suck in a breath through your squished nose. His musk, sweet and just as sharp, fills your airways. Your clit all but jerks between your legs in humiliation, drawing a whine out of your throat.
Joel chuckles, ruffling your hair. It’s enough to make your thighs clench. “You’re a little freak, huh?” He presses harder on the back of your head, so much so that you almost get a mouthful of his underarm.
“Youuu dick!” you try to say without opening your mouth too far. It comes out muffled against his sweat-pearled skin. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push him off of you.
Another wry chuckle comes from above. Joel bends his arm so that his elbow is wrapped around the back of your head, effectively trapping you in his funk. “Come on, huff ‘em. Practically fuckin’ asking for it earlier, all ‘a that mouthin’ off. So now you get a mouthful of my pits. Fair’s fair, kiddo.”
Embarrassment ribbons through your body, the kind that makes you leak into your panties against your will. Still looking for a way out, you squirm against his ironclad hold.
It’s only good for making him land a heavy-hitting slap across your ass. You yelp, a new wave of slick saturating the drenched gusset of your panties. You jump where you are, hips bucking into nothing – for escape or pressure, you’re not entirely sure. “Unless you wanna go over my knee instead?” Your face sears with humiliation.
Tentatively, you snuffle a bit against his pit, biting into your cheeks at his musk. It makes you cough a little bit – he’s been carrying the smell of cutting grass and his own sweat all morning.
“Yeah, thought so. But you can do better than that, sweetcheeks. I said huff, not fake an asthma attack.” You whimper, this time sucking in a longer breath. Here he is, holding you down, secure against his pit as you're left with no other option than to take what he gives you, when he gives it to you. All you can smell, feel, touch is just Joel, Joel, Joel. It makes you lightheaded.
Your clit is practically a kickdrum between your thighs, pulsing and doing more work than your head. You try to angle yourself so that you can rub your clit against Joel’s leg, but he puts a stop to that real quick. “Gettin’ all wound up just from being where ya belong, your pretty little face in my pit?” You mewl, reaching for Joel’s sides. You bunch your fists in the fabric of his wifebeater, and he allows it.
“Since you’re so eager to complain about it, how ‘bout you clean me up, huh?” He nudges his pit against your face again, and, confusedly, you furrow your brows. You can’t see much of him, but you do see the edge of his mouth tip up in satisfaction. “You got rocks for brains? Lick, kiddo.”
Hesitance drives the soft kitten lick of your tongue, swiping up and down across a very small portion of his pit. He loosens up on his grip on you, giving you the slightest bit more reign. You try to tell yourself that you’re scared of what he might do if you disappoint him, but hell if you don’t want this as much as he does, tongue, nose, face buried in his pits. Some sort of ultimate form of worship between the two of you.
You lave your tongue across his pit, eyes fluttering with each stroke. You swirl it in the crease of his arm, sucking his goddamn hairs clean with the fervor you’ve picked up. Enthused now, you bob your head up and down. Your clit responds, throbbing with a heartbeat of its own.
You’re panting, inhaling and exhaling him, lapping up his musk like a fucking dog, gone from reluctant to eager. Your clit twitches faster and faster, and you swear that arousal must be tacky on the insides of your thighs, leaking through your panties all over the front of your bloomers, but you can’t do anything about it. You can’t even grind against Joel – you can only slurp against his armpit, something like desperation having replaced all of your previous mortification from when he’d shoved you there in the first place.
You’re so preoccupied with pleasing him that you don’t even notice the thumping of your clit, picking up speed and pressure. Your body seizes in between your greedy little licks. You feel yourself weaken before you stiffen.
And maybe it’s the way Joel keeps groaning with each movement of your tongue. It could be how he exhales, “Kiddo,” in a raspy voice, both demeaning and endearing all at once. But in the end, it’s how he says, “Mmmm, such a good goddamn tongue. Bet it’d feel so good on my cock,” that breaks the dam between your legs.
You shudder, coming completely undone with little moans and whimpers in Joel’s arms without so much as a hand on your clit, just your face smothered in his pit. Drool runs down your lips and across your chin as you jerk and weaken in his grasp. If you weren’t so underwater, so far gone, you’d be able to hear him saying, “Fuck – whoa, whoa, whoa,” trying to stop you from falling on your ass in the middle of the garage. His hands card across your sides as he props you up against the workbench. Your vision blackens at the edges from the intensity of your orgasm, and you’re still coming, at least you think you are, when you blink yourself back to awareness. You’re wide-eyed, tears brimming at your waterline, incapacitated in a way that you didn’t know you could be.
“Holy shit,” you gasp when you finally fully come to, slumped over the workbench, still half-clinging to Joel. “Fuck.”
Joel looks stunned, looking you up and down as if he can’t get enough of you. His eyes land right between your thighs, where, sure enough, you’ve ruined your bloomers. You still feel like deadweight, and you struggle to stand upright. You’re not sure you’ve ever come so hard even with someone’s hands all over your. Joel’s glistening with even more sweat, and it’s impossible to miss the glaring bulge in his shorts. He clears his throat after a minute. “Oughta go get cleaned up before your daddy gets back for his lunch break, kiddo.”
You stumble upright, drenched in sweat yourself now, Joel’s lingering scent still pervading every breath you take. “Y-yeah,” you manage, nodding. You feel out of your own body, stumbling towards the door. You’re so wet that you can feel it with every goddamn step. Fuck Joel Miller, cocky piece of sh–
You’re immediately returned to your own body by the resounding swat Joel lands on your ass. You jump, shooting a glare over your shoulder. He puts his hands up, pleading innocence.
You’re not surprised when you crawl out of your shower, smelling of rosemary eucalyptus and dripping water all over the floor, only to see Joel’s mower abandoned in the middle of his yard. Even worse, you aren’t surprised in the slightest when you squint through your bedroom window, Joel sprawled out across his bed, hips bucking in-time with his fist before catching your eye and spraying ropes of cum all over his abdomen.
You mouth at him through the window with a taunting little wink, Clean yourself up this time.
76 notes · View notes
yoonivy · 10 hours
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symptom of your touch.
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modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. smut & angst. friends with benefits.
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. But you… You were the only exception. Aemond cannot bear to lose you to Aegon too.
warnings. rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk & degradation, mirror sex. unrequited love.
author’s note. titled after the aly & aj song but also heavily inspired by a taylor swift song!
word count. 7k+
--
It is Aegon who invited you to come over to watch movies with his family that night. 
But when you make the two second walk from your front door to his just next door, your best friend isn’t even there.
“Where is he?”
Daeron shrugs at your question, opening the door wider so you can step inside the Targaryen household. “Dunno. He left, like, half an hour ago, though.”
You heave a sigh, tapping the phone in your hand. 
To Aegon — where are you????
You hear their mother, Alicent, calling you from the kitchen so you make your way there.
“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a gentle smile when she sees you. “Have you ate, yet?”
You nod, slipping onto an island stool beside Helaena. “I ate dinner just before I came over.”
You caress your hand on Aegon’s younger sister’s arm as a form of hello and she smiles sweetly at you while her mother lifts up a tupperware for you to see. “Well there’s leftovers here if you get hungry later, okay?”
“Thanks, Alicent,” you chirp as Alicent stores the food inside the refrigerator. 
After an exhausted huff that causes the tendrils of the loosened hair from her bun to fly, Alicent still manages to give you a grin. “No problem, my love,” then with a frown, she looks down at the smatchwatch on her wrist. “Do you know where Aegon is? I thought we’re having a movie night?”
You shake your head. “I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”
“That boy… I swear…” 
“Let’s just start without him,” Daeron suggests, strolling into the room to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. Alicent grabs the drink from his grasp before he could open it.
“You’ve already had too much today,” is all Alicent says when the soon to be high school senior whines out ‘mooom!’ .
“We can watch a movie we know he won’t like first so he doesn’t get mad when he comes back during the middle of it,” Helaena speaks up just as your phone vibrates with a new message.
From Aegon — i’ll be back soon 😘 — just start without me
You scowl, noting that he didn’t really answer your question. But whatever. 
“Aegon said to start without him,” you tell his family. 
Alicent sighs, head shaking. Then she turns to Helaena with a smile, “Bug, can you pick the movie?”
Helaena nods enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to do just that.
“Daeron, help me with the snacks,” Alicent instructs, already grabbing bowls from the cupboards. “And ____, sweetie, can you get Aemond? He’s in his room.”
The request has you gnawing on your bottom lip, reluctant, but you take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, sure.”
Alicent looks over her shoulder, kind eyes on you. “Thank you.”
Then her attention is back on Daeron, who once again tries to open a can of pop. “Daeron!”
You leave them to enter the small hallway, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. You stare up at the second floor, anxiousness twisting knots in your stomach. 
You have not spoken to Aemond since the party at Quentyn Martell’s last weekend.
You still remember the crushing look of hurt on his handsome face when you told him what you needed to tell him, all too well.
Every step you take up the stairs reminds you how awful you’ve been to him all summer. It was completely unintentional, but you can’t deny how selfish you’ve been. Especially since you know that Aemond would be willing to do it over and over again if you only asked him to.
You rap on Aemond’s door with the back of your hand, hearing him call from inside, “Yes?”
“We’re, um, gonna start movie night now…” you trail off, speaking to the closed door. Your voice is so soft, like you don’t want to be heard by him. “If you wanna—”
The door suddenly swings open, and you meet Aemond’s wide open stare. 
You cannot help but stare back. You still cannot believe this is your best friend’s younger brother. The gangly boy you grew up with. 
Aemond has filled out more, still lean yet definitely defined in all the right places. He chopped off his gorgeously long hair into a cropped haircut for the first time in forever. Although you were initially sad about the haircut, the short hair grew on you. Especially when he styled it to part neatly to the side — he looks so handsome.
When you saw him for the first time in the beginning of the summer, you thought you were dreaming.
His first year away from home was good to him.
“Hey,” you breathe out, offering him a wavering smile.
He takes you in completely, violet eyes washing over you. Every second has you feeling smaller, nervous for his final reaction. Then finally — “Hey.”
An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. And you feel so uneasy, you had to turn away from his stare, cocking your head down the stairs. “Um, we should…”
Frowning, Aemond nods. “Right.”
He slips out his room to walk ahead of you, and for some reason your stupid, stupid guilty conscious makes a grab for his arm to stop him on his track.
“Wait, Aemond–” He stiffens under your touch. You press your lips together before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened first?”
Aemond whips his head to look at you, and you notice the dark circles under his sullen eyes. He looks so sad and you hate yourself because you know you are the reason. 
He shakes his head slowly, prying your hands off him with such gentle care. You’re not sure if he is trying not to hurt you or himself. “No. Let’s just have a good night tonight, alright?”
After a tentative nod, you follow him down the stairs and to the living room, lagging a few steps behind to give him space.
Unfortunately, since the two of you are the last to arrive, the only seat available is beside each other on the couch. But luckily, since Aegon isn’t there yet, there is a comfortable space between the two of you. 
After the second movie is done, Alicent heads to bed first for work in the early morning. Being a widowed mother for eight years already, Alicent has gotten used to being the breadwinner for the family even if now her children are helping support her — with the three oldest already in university with decent paying jobs on the side. She can stop working if she wanted to — Viserys left a big inheritance — but you think she’s just lonely and needs something to occupy her time during the year when the home is empty except for her and Daeron.
Halfway through the third movie, Helaena says her goodnight with a yawn. She hugs you and Aemond, then kisses Daeron’s forehead (which he pretends to be grossed out by), before she heads upstairs to her room.
Before the fourth movie even starts, Daeron’s snores are resounding loud in the room, mouth wide open and asleep on the reclined leather chair. Aemond sits up to throw the blanket that Helaena had abandoned on his little brother and then settles right back down beside you — even though there is another couch now empty for him to sit on.
With Aemond by your side the entire night, you tried not to look at your phone out of respect for him and his feelings. But as it gets later and later, you can’t help but start looking between the television playing the fourth movie, your phone, and the door like clockwork. 
You’re worried. It’s already past midnight and Aegon is still not home. 
You’ve sneakily texted him a couple of times during the first two movies, but he hasn’t answered. 
You open up SnapChat now, knowing that would probably give you an idea on where he might be. 
Of course, the first story you see is of Aegon sticking his tongue down Jeyne Westerling’s throat just 10 minutes ago.
You close off the app with a disgusted grunt, finally deciding it’s time to go.
“I’m gonna head home,” you tell Aemond after an irritated huff. 
“I– alright…”
When you stand up, Aemond does too. He follows you to the front door.
“You can stay the night,” Aemond says before you step into your shoes.
You stand up straight, still no shoes on, to give him a wan smile, “I have my perfectly good bed just next door, Aemond.”
Aemond nods slow, glaring at the ground. Then his gaze flicks up to meet yours, his purple eyes so intense that your mouth parts in a soft gasp. He presses his lips together to wet him with his tongue, and rephrases his previous statement into a question, “Do you want to stay the night… with me?”
Your heart catches in your throat.
“I thought that– Didn’t you—” you draw a slow, deep breath; trying again so you don’t stumble your words anymore, “You said you wanted to stop this.”
“I was drunk when I said that.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” you remind him.
Aemond scoffs, looking off to the side. “Then that saying is clearly false.”
Then his gaze finds yours again, wide and imploring. Don’t make me ask again, his pretty violet eyes say, because you know I will. I always will.
You should say no and go home. 
It’s a terrible idea and you’ll regret it now that you know how much it hurts him when you leave him after.
But your better judgment gets away from you, remembering how Aemond’s body feels against yours. 
“Okay…I’ll stay the night, ” You tell him, slow yet sure. “…With you.”
Aemond lets out a shuddering breath he had been holding, cupping your face to pull you into an unhurried and tender kiss. It’s sweet and chaste. That’s how it always starts.
As quiet as you both can, you slip into his room together, Aemond’s hand holding yours. 
As soon as he locks his door behind him, Aemond’s mouth is on yours again. This time with more heat, stoking a burning flame deep in your loins. His large hands slip under your shirt, grasping tight on your hips. When your mouth parts with a keening mewl, he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss with a pleasured grunt of his own.
Aemond pulls apart from you, glancing down to unbutton and unzip your jeans with experienced quickness. 
“Off,” he commands between heaving breaths, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as you do exactly what he says. 
When you kick away your jeans, Aemond is already pulling you back to him and pushing your back against the wall, lifting up your right leg around his waist to grind the hard bulging in his pants against your panty covered core. 
You stutter out a moan into his mouth, and he hushes you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and nipping until they feel swollen and raw. You damage his the same with every fervent kiss you crush against his mouth. 
Neither of you stop, unable to pull away from the other’s lips or grinding hips. Not even when Aemond slips a hand down and pressed his fingers onto the cotton of your frilly black panty, the pads of his fingers becoming wet and sticky at the contact. 
It has him choking out an airy moan, cursing under his breath. “Seven Hells…  you’re soaked.”
You bite at his shoulder to suppress a whine, bucking into his fingertips as they tease the sensitive button between your thighs. 
“All for me, right, pretty girl?” He huskily murmurs in your ear, his finger rubbing and rubbing until your legs start to shake around him. 
You nod fervently at Aemond’s question, and he rewards you with a smirk, another bruising kiss, and his fingers pulling your panty to the side to trace up and down the folds of your cunt. He spreads your slick with every slow glide, and it has you needy for something more. 
“Aemond, please…”
He lets out a husky chuckle as you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. You move your hips to try to force it to slip into you, but Aemond pulls away with a playful hum. “Uh-Uh.” 
Your mouth opens to protest, but then Aemond suddenly tucks a finger inside you. It has you keening and whining instead, grasping onto him tightly.
“Good girl,” Aemond praises breathily against your temple. He put another finger in beside the first and starts fucking into you at a moderate pace and occasionally scissoring wide. You wince at the stretch but you love it. His fingers slide slowly in and out of you, deeper each time until they’re all the way down to the knuckles, curling so it hits your sweet spot. Biting down your bottom lip, you stifle a moan as you come undone, dripping onto Aemond’s hand. He groans without stopping the flick of his wrists, keeps you shaking and writhing against him throughout your whole orgasm, “That’s it… That’s a good girl.”
Once you’re spent, Aemond pulls his fingers out of you. He brings it up between you, both noticing how much it gleams, fully covered in your juices. Keeping his gaze in yours, Aemond presses his soaked digits against your bottom lip, which you open without hesitation, darting your tongue out to taste yourself on him. Aemond grunts, sticking his fingers deeper in your mouth. Eyelash fluttering at him, you close your lips around his digits with a hum, sucking and licking until your essence is nearly gone. 
Aemond grins in satisfaction, gaze soft with endearment, and then he is kissing you once more.
“I can’t wait any more,” he tells you, pressing his hard bulge onto you as evidence of that. 
Stumbling onto the bed, Aemond falls over you; his mouth hot on the juncture of your jaw and neck; and his hand spanning wide and grazing up your ribcage, dragging your shirt up with him.
He groans when his thumb brushes across the underside of your breast, finding you bare.
“Knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath, little tease,” he sneers in your ear, biting at the lobe while his fingers twists at a nipple until it pebbles under his touch. “That’s why you came over, right? Wanted me begging for another taste?”
Eyes squeezing shut, you shake your head no. 
That’s not what you wanted. You didn’t come over to hurt him again.
But when Aemond dips down and his warm mouth latches onto the nipple on the side of your chest that his hand was not already groping tenderly, your back arches for him. For more.
And so there might have been a small chance that he is right in his assumptions.
You feel Aemond’s teeth grazing your skin. And when you glance down at him with a whimper, he meets your gaze with mirth and something more feral in his own. Then he is biting down around the well-sucked and hardened nub, teeth marks replacing the one he made there last week that is fading away. 
As your hand threads through his hair, Aemond’s tongue laves across the valley of your breast, tasting salt skin, and then proceeds to do the same to that nipple exactly what he had done to the one before. 
His hand trails down, pushing your underwear aside once more to press his fingers inside again — though this time, it’s slow and his thumb is drawing lazy circles around your clit.
You come for the second time that night like that, from the combination of him fingerfucking you and biting your chest multiple times as if laying his claim on you.
Aemond sits up on his knees to look down at you. 
He admires the sight of you laying under him with your shirt rucked up over your tits, heavily breathing, nipples wet and raw from his mouth, and your cunt dripping for him while your thighs are covered in your mess that he made of you. 
Aemond hunches over, a palm pressed on the mattress just beside your head and his other hand gripping so tightly around your jaw that your mouth falls open.
“You’re such a messy slut ,” Aemond sneers at you, but his tone has a hint of lightness in it, praiseful; and when he spits in your mouth right after, you swallow it down with a contented mewl. There’s a glint of possessiveness in Aemond’s dilated eyes, the violet irises hardly visible anymore.
“ My messy slut,” he all but growls, kissing you again and again and again. 
There is something about the way Aemond kisses you. It is like he is trying to put all his mounting feelings there against your lips, because he knows if he says it aloud, you will just likely run away. 
So you let him. Let Aemond kiss you as though the two of you are lovers. Like this isn’t just a beneficial arrangement between two lonely and desperate people.
When he pulls back, he stares at you for a while, his hand curled at the side of your face while his thumb tenderly grazes along the fullness of your cheek. He licks his lips, as if he is going to say something, but then he stops and shakes his head to himself.
“Come on, get on all fours,” he commands instead, laying a solid smack on your outer thigh to get you moving. You roll over, getting on your elbows and knees while also throwing a playful glare over your shoulder at him, mouthing a reminder that his sister is just in the room next door. 
After rolling his eyes, Aemond pulls his shirt off and throws it carelessly somewhere in his room and pulls his jeans and underwear enough for his hard cock to spring out.
You entice him with a sway of your hips, and what you get in return is a slap over your cunt. It makes you accidentally yelping out loud, but you cut it off by dropping your head forward to bite down on the pillow beneath you. 
“Act like a whore and you get treated like one,” Aemond reminds you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave indents of crescent moons on your skin. You nod in understanding, smearing makeup all over his pillowcase. 
Aemond grabs the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. It feels so lewd, how you feel him leering at the way both your holes clenches, how you’re absolutely dripping down your legs and onto the cover of his bed.
“The prettiest little pussy in the whole Seven Kingdoms,” Aemond murmurs, so softly as if he had not meant to say it out loud, and yet the compliment sends a thrill down your spine while you whimper for him.
But that does not compare to the noise you make when he gathers up saliva in his mouth, only to slowly dribble it out to drop onto you, letting it drip down the cleft of your ass all the way down through the folds of your pussy. “But it’s so soaked and eager for cock like a slut.”
You can’t help but hum in agreement, pushing back to grind your ass along his length. He lays a wet smack to your ass for that little disobedient act, though before you can arch away, he pulls you towards him, his cock spearing you wide open. In this position, you feel every twitch of the veins on his cock while he reaches so deep inside you. The leaking head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust of his hips against your ass. You shut your eyes to focus on the wonderful feeling.
“Gods, you’re so tight and sweet,” Aemond hisses, throwing his head back. The way your cunt squeezes around him is like a chokehold. It’s hard for him to breathe at how amazing it feels, his body moving and his heart racing for more. 
He looks back down again, the sight of the mixture of his precum and your juices frothing around the base of his cock as he slams into you again and again has him groaning.
He grabs onto a fistful of your hair, pulls you up until your back hits his chest. The new position has you sinking down on his cock, writhing and mewling with every inch you take.
“Look up,” Aemond whispers in your ear, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you see the reflection of yourself and Aemond in the mirrored sliding door of his closet. It is quite a sight – your red-rimmed eyes, your tear stained cheeks, the heavy heaving of your arched chest, the hickeys and bite marks all over your body, and the way your glistening cunt is stretched so wide around Aemond’s huge cock. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. And you look so good getting fucked.”
To prove his point, he guides you to ride him with his hands on your hips. 
“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart,” Aemond orders as he pulls your hair back tighter, fucking up into you when he pushes your hips down. You moan out his name which makes him smirk, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your incoherent and pleasured noises. “Shh… Shh… Shh… If you get any louder, someone’s gonna barge in here and see how you’re such a cockslut for me… So just keep quietly taking my cock like a good little girl, yeah?”
Nodding, you press your lips together in hopes to obey him, not wanting to get punished when you are so close. You watch yourself in the mirror getting fucked so roughly, the heat inside you continuing to build up.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” Aemond hotly murmurs against the side of your neck, leaving more hickeys there as a reminded of tonight.
You’re greedy. So greedy. 
You love the way Aemond makes you feel.  
He fucks you rough and hard in the way you crave; but with every touch, you feel his adoration for you.
You revel in it. 
Greedy. Greedy. Greedy. 
“Come on, baby, come on my cock — Fuck! You look so good, bouncing on my cock… Can’t wait to fill your tight little cunt… Gonna breed you— yeah? You like that, little slut? Fuck, that’s what I thought…”
Aemond loses it when you nod at his accusation of you wanting him to breed you. He drives into you until your eyes start to roll back, seeing stars.
You made him this way. This is how you slowly coaxed him to take you. When this first started, Aemond was sweet and caring, cooing praises into your ear with every slow thrust of his hips. But as it went on, you asked more of him. A hand squeezing around your neck, a strike rippling your bottom until it’s bruised, had him uttering spiteful and awful names that made you cry —  you don’t know why but that’s how you like it. 
(Perhaps it’s because of the rumors you heard about another Targaryen guy who likes to fuck girls just as roughly.)
At the thought, you come impossibly hard. Your squirt goes everywhere, has Aemond slipping out at how wet it is. He groans in both frustration and satisfaction, pushing back inside you just in time to fill you up to the brim with his cum. He empties inside you, rolling your hips against him until you are too sensitive, whimpering for him to hold on a second. 
Aemond does not care and does not give you a moment to catch your breath, already pushing you back down on the bed and turning you on your side, lifting your leg to hang on his shoulder and guides his already hardened cock back inside you again. Though feeling oversensitive now, you can’t deny how much you want more. Until you can’t think anymore about why your best friend still hasn’t made his way home yet or whose bed he ended up in tonight.
Aemond fucks you until the morning light, has you shaking and quivering and cumming in every new position — on your back, in a mating press, his tongue spreading over you, behind you again… 
--
You wake up cuddling with Aemond, after only a few hours of sleep. But you feel well rested despite that and the strenuous activities you partook in all night and early morning. 
Humming in content, you nuzzle your face into the nape of Aemond’s neck. Surprisingly, this morning you are the big spoon, your arm and leg thrown over Aemond’s body like a clingy koala.  
Ever the light sleeper, the butterfly kisses you leave on his spine has Aemond stirring, turning his body in a still half-asleep pace to face you. 
“Mornin’,” he drawls huskily, an adorable sleepy grin on his lips. 
“Good morning,” you greet back with a smile, a bit more chirpy and awake. You lean in to give him a sweet peck on his lips, but Aemond pulls you in for something deeper as his hand slides to the nape of your neck in a possessive hold. You mewl as his tongue slips in your mouth and when you feel him thickening up against your thigh.
Gently, you push him onto his back, mouth still on each other with passionate kisses as you climb on top of him. You only part for his lips for a second to grab his hard cock to ease your cunt over it, sliding him inside you with a wet squelch. 
Aemond sighs at the tight clench of your walls around him, languidly kissing you while you roll your hips over him. The sex is slow and sweet, gentler than all the ones the two of you had in the last eight hours.
You cream around him in such a lovely way, softly moaning his name in his ear for only him to hear. That’s all it takes for Aemond to come inside you again.
“I need to pee,” you tell Aemond a couple minutes later, your fingers running gently through his hair while his face is tucked into the crook of your shoulder.
Aemond doesn’t immediately let you free, he even tightens his arms around you. He pulls his head back though, the back of it hitting the wall behind him, just to peer at your pretty face. 
“Just piss on my cock… You’d probably like that,” he says with a teasing smirk.
You shove at him, laughing as you get up from his softened length and off the bed too. “Shut up!”
Once you find your tiny crop top, you put it on. You find your underwear too, but it’s so ruined that you throw it at Aemond instead. He catches it easily, balling it up in his hand and takes a deep inhale, all the while without taking his gaze off you.
Though the sight makes you heat up from head to toe, you wrinkle your nose at him. “Gross.”
Aemond only grins. He knows you well enough — you like depraved shit like that. If you already weren’t so stuffed full of his cum, he’ll probably find you wet again just from his little panty sniffing stunt. 
As you put on your jeans and socks, you and Aemond are making playful conversation.
It’s easy. It’s nice. It feels a little too domestic that it has Aemond thinking this could be a start of something. But he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up like this.
“— I still can’t believe the Oberyn Martell is actually going to be a professor at your uni next year…”
“You know, it’s never too late to transfer,” Aemond tells you with a frown. The school he is attending now was your dream school all your life, and yet when you got in, you declined the offer – to go to the same school as his brother. “You got in once. You can easily do it again.”
“Yeah, but…” You are standing by his desk, flipping through the brochure detailing the seminars Oberyn Martell, a famous political journalist, will be holding for the rest of the year before his official classes for the next year at Dorne University. You shrug, sending a weak smile his way, “King is pretty good too. I’ve no real complaints except for…”
In the middle of speaking, you trail off, staring out the window as a heavy revving of an old car engine can be heard outside.
Aemond already knows who it is. 
It’s Aegon, pulling up into the driveway in his sleek red 1968 Shelby. But what really gives it away is how your brows knit together as you watch Aegon walk up the pathway, whistling happily without a care in the world, as if he wasn’t out all night making you worried sick.
Aemond is looking at you the same – longingly and sad. Hoping and wishing and praying for you to feel something for him, even just a tiny bit of what you feel for his older brother. 
“I should go,” you tell Aemond with a wan smile after you quickly check yourself in the mirror to fix anything amiss.  
Sighing tiredly, all Aemond can do is nod as he stares down on his lap.
Without another word, you leave him there glancing down at his hands that just touched you all night, memorized every curve of your body, and found all the right places that made you sing in pleasure.
--
Aemond heads downstairs ten minutes after you left, already hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The air smells of fresh brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and waffles. 
He passes by Daeron in the living room. The youngest Targaryen has a plate of all of that beside where he sits on the ground while his focus is on the story-driven zombie apocalyptic video game on the television screen. 
When Aemond arrives at the kitchen, he stands by the arch of the door, leaning on his side against it with his arms crossed in front of him. 
He hates how his heart aches, watching as you laugh so joyfully at a story Aegon is animatedly telling while he pours maple syrup on a plate of waffles that the two of you were sharing . Aemond knows you don’t like things too sweet, and yet you allow Aegon to drown the waffles until they are soggy.  
It’s always like this. You give, Aegon takes. You give up your dream school because Aegon’s fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected and wants you beside him at all times. You let him treat you like shit because you are so in love with him. 
You’re so enraptured by Aegon’s attention finally on you that you don’t even notice that Aemond has been there for a while. 
Aegon tells a joke that has you laughing so hard, your head tilting back to expose your neckline.
All of the sudden, Aegon stops laughing with you, a frown on his face as his hand reaches out to touch a mark on your neck. “I didn’t know you’re hooking up with someone…”
Clearing your throat, you pull away from his touch, smoothing your hair down to hide the mark. “I’m not.”
Aegon rolls his eyes, “Oh, cause you really gave yourself a hickey… right. So who is it?” He starts to name all the guys the two of you know, and everytime you shake your head and tell him to stop, he just gets even more annoyed and angry. 
Aemond can tell that Aegon is jealous, always so possessive of you even though he doesn’t want you. But you don’t notice, you just think he’s mad cause he thinks you are screwing one of his friends.
“Can you just let it go, Aegon?” You grit out, after telling him once again that no, you are not screwing either of the Cargyll twins.
“I don’t get why you won’t tell me who it is? I tell you about all the girls I hook up with all the time!”
“And you think I want to know?”
“Just– tell me–”
“She said to let it go, Aegon,” Aemond barks out, finally making his presence known. 
Aegon stares between his brother and you, breathing heavily in anger. 
“Whatever. I don’t need this,” Aegon fumes in conclusion, storming out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and it slams close behind him.
Chewing at your lip, your gaze is set on the door he just left from.
Aemond takes a tentative step towards you. “Don’t, ___…” You glance towards him, the telltale sign that you are about to burst out crying evident in the hiccupy way you are trying to get air through your parted mouth. Aemond presses his lips together, trying to convince you to stay by how carefully he is approaching you. You deserve to be treated as a first choice. Aemond would always treat you as such. “Stop… Stop always being at his beck and call.”
You seem to think about it. Maybe he can finally get through to you — but then the revving of Aegon’s car is so loud, it snaps you out of it. You frown, eyes watering. “I’m so sorry, Aemond…”
Then you are running out after Aegon like you always seem to be.
--
Summer’s ending, and every single day, Aemond’s wishing for it to just be over.  
Sure he can change his flight back to Sunspear to an earlier one, but he knows his mother would question why and also be incredibly sad about it. Aemond does not have the heart to do that to her. 
He has all his luggage packed already, eager to just book it to the airport as soon as he is able to. 
It’s been too much to bear. He still sees you pretty much every day but he hasn’t talked to you since that morning a week and half ago. 
But of course, you and Aegon have reconciled. Attached to the hips once again. Best friends forever and ever and ever and ever — just like the two of you would often promise each other since you were young. 
Aemond calls it the honeymoon period. When you and Aegon make up after a fight (one that Aegon is usually the cause of and the one that starts it for no reason) and spend every waking minute together for the next few weeks. Aegon will demand for your time whenever he wants it, has you waiting by your phone for his call and canceling plans that he is not a part of. You don’t seem to mind though, as long as Aegon showers you with needy and dependent affections… Until a new girl catches his eyes that has him wagging his tail and tongue hanging out. He then neglects your friendship in pursuit to get in her bed, causing another fight.  
Rinse and repeat. 
The cycle will never end. 
Not unless you end it. Decide that you’ve had enough of Aegon treating you like a convenient option instead of a priority. 
Or more unlikely, for Aegon to finally return your feelings. 
But Aemond highly doubts either of those will ever happen. 
“Hey, are you ready yet?”
Speak of the devil…
Aegon peeks his head inside Aemond’s room. He didn’t even bother to at least knock before he barged in. He takes a look at where Aemond is sitting against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hands — dressed in dark blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt with a black short-sleeved shirt loose and unbuttoned over it. 
“Oh good, you are!” Aegon then opens the door wider. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”
Aemond huffs in irritation, and before he can even answer, Aegon steps inside like he owns the place, closing the door behind him.
Aegon takes his sweet time – glancing around, picking up things on Aemond’s desk to look at, then putting it back down, flicking at the picture taped on the wall… Finally, he turns to face Aemond and comes out with it, “Do you know who _____ is hooking up with?”
Aemond’s eyes widen slightly but then quickly keeps his expression carefully neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “No. Why would I know?”
Aegon nods slowly, but there’s something about the way his lips purses to the side seems disbelieving.
Aemond clears his throat after standing up from the bed. “Why are you even asking me?” 
Did you tell Aegon something? About you and him?
“I dunno, just asking…” Aegon shrugs, mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “…You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, so I just thought you would know.”
With narrowed eyes, Aemond reminds him, “The only reason we’ve been spending a lot of time together is because you’re always ditching her for other girls.” 
Aegon licks his lips and then grins uncomfortably at how his younger brother just called him out. “I see that now… I think it’s because I—“ Aegon stops mid sentence and sniffs noisily, rubbing his hand over his mouth as he starts to pace a bit. 
Aemond is quick to pick up on his brother’s odd behaviour and eyes him quizzically. 
Then Aegon stops and looks directly into Aemond’s eyes — an expression of open vulnerability sets on Aegon’s features that Aemond feels his stomach drop. 
Oh fuck no… Don’t you fucking dare say it, Aemond thinks with a slight shake of his head. 
“I think I like her, Aemond,” Aegon confesses, eyes wide and watery. “I think I’m gonna tell her tonight.”
At his sides, Aemond clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms enough to hurt. But his expression remains unbothered, apathetic even. 
“Why are you telling me as if I care what you do with your life?”
Aegon chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “ Please, I’m not a complete idiot…” He is grinning as he takes a step closer to Aemond. “I know you’re in love with her…” Aemond cringes at the truth being said so loud in his otherwise quiet room. “…and you have been ever since we were young.”
Aemond’s glare on Aegon is heated. 
So Aegon knew, and yet he always held your loyalty and preference to him over Aemond’s head.
With another step forward, Aegon is right in front of Aemond. The younger Targaryen’s nostrils flare, trying to keep his anger in check with his steady breathing. 
“And I’m not cruel, Mondy…” Aegon says, and yet he is looking up at him with a taunting smirk. “I care about you, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Then, just as he is about to turn and leave Aemond’s room, he clamps a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he sneers into Aemond’s ear, “And just so you know… I intended to replace every filthy mark you’ve stained on her body with my own.”
Aegon’s smirk then turns to a playful smile as he lightly smacks Aemond’s cheek twice. “Mum wants to leave soon to get a good spot at the beach, so hurry up, yeah?”
--
It is a Targaryen family tradition to celebrate the annual summer festival that marks the end of summer at Blackwater Bay beach. But obviously with what Aegon has planned to do tonight, Aemond would rather be anywhere but there. 
When Alicent’s mini Cooper pulls into the parking lot of the beach, Aemond guesses it’s a little too late to back out. He steps out of the car, just as a red Shelby parks just right beside them. 
Aegon exits his car, sunglasses on even though it’s already pretty dark outside. You’re not with him, Aemond notes, only the Cargyll twins follow after Aegon. You must be coming here with Alys and them.
Aemond helps Alicent grab the coolers from the back of the Cooper along with Daeron, letting Helaena take the lead to a perfect grassy area to watch the fireworks from. Aemond doesn’t stick around, deciding to walk the boardwalk that trails along the beach.
That is when Aemond catches sight of you, in a pretty white linen summer dress and your toes already in the sand. You are laughing with Alys and Rhaena, a lit up sparkler in your hand.
So pretty, like a shining star.
So close, yet so out of reach.
Just when he is about to step onto the white sand to make his way to you, someone bumps harshly past his shoulder. 
With a scowl, Aemond watches on in bitter jealousy as Aegon runs to you, feet on the sand and an unlit sparkler in his hand. He captures your attention with a call of your name, and you look back at him, smiling so beautifully — a smile solely reserved for Aegon. It has your girlfriends giggling, skipping away arm in arm to give the two of you some time alone together.
With a nod, you press the tip of your sparkling sparkler to light his.
As soon as it does, Aegon leans close, murmuring something in your ear. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide, a mixture between guarded and hopeful.
In the dark, Aemond can barely read your lips,
You do?
Aegon nods. 
Then his lips are on yours just as fireworks light up the night sky in brilliant arrays of colors and patterns. 
It’s a picture perfect scene. One that could be in the movies when the leading hero finally gets the girl.
And as always, Aemond is left way far down on the list of credits in the story of Aegon’s life. 
All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. 
When Aegon got his father’s beloved car when he passed away, Aemond didn’t care.
When Aemond got into the best school in the whole Seven Kingdoms and yet the fanfare wasn’t nearly as huge as when Aegon got into King’s Landing U, Aemond also didn’t care.
But even if he had anticipated it happening again – he didn’t think it would hurt this much.
Because it’s you . You are the one thing that Aemond wanted so badly for himself. He has been in love with you all his life and would have done anything for you, if you’d only let him.
Aemond chuckles bitterly, tearing his gaze away from you and Aegon, still locking lips.
Now you’re just another prize that Aegon has won without merit. 
And Aemond? 
He is the fool who stupidly got his hopes up — because all along, you were never even his to lose.
68 notes · View notes
thecuriousquest · 2 days
Note
oral fixation with yandere yuuji? 🫣
Sloppy Girl
Yan!Yuji Itadori x Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, light yandere themes, oral sex (male receiving), 18+ characters, isolation implied, ass groping, light spanking
Master List
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You were smacking away at your gum as you sat in Yuji’s room with him, reading some book Gojo gave you to help you learn more about Jujutsu Sorcery. It was…irritating to say the least. Yuji could barely handle listening to you smack your lips every time you were huffy and puffy about something. This is just a whole new level of annoying.
But he likes you, really likes you. So much so that he keeps you away from Megumi, Todo, and every one else he deems a threat. He even has you study with him in his room or read manga just so that he can get some extra time alone with you.
But the constant smacking is driving him insane. He’s good at picking up on the small things, seeing what you’re interested in, what your habits are, your dislikes, what pisses you off, and what makes you giggle so adorably.
And he now realizes that he’s never once seen you not chewing gum or sucking on candy. You don’t smoke, thankfully. He would’ve had to figure out a way to get you to stop, and that wouldn’t have been easy.
The most sensible thing to do now though is…and he does this…he reaches over and claps his big, meaty paw over your mouth.
You can’t help but look at him with wide eyes as you stare at him with utter confusion. You try to say his name, but it comes out muffled and distorted behind his palm.
“Can you stop smacking your gum?”
It’s so blatant, so blunt. You honestly didn’t even realize you were doing it. It’s just a habit by now. You nod to appease him, to get him to remove his hand, and when he does, you sheepishly throw your gum away just to keep from accidentally annoying him again.
As you go back to reading your book, Yuji settles back down on the floor next to you and starts reading his manga when he sees you lift your hand to your mouth a few minutes later. He watches as you chew on the tip of your index fingernail. Biting, biting, the clicking of your nail against your teeth.
“Do you always have to have something in your mouth?” It’s not meant to be mean. He asks it genuinely. He really just doesn’t understand it. The candy, the gum, now the nail biting?
“Huh? Is that supposed to be a dirty joke?”
The sudden realization of his and your words clicks, and a perverted smile forms on his face.
“Do you want it to be?”
His cock twitches at the idea of growing hard inside your mouth.
“Yuji…I don’t do that kind of stuff.”
“Hey, come on, don’t be shy. Does…sucking on stuff make you feel more comfortable?”
You can’t help but blush at the way he phrases his question. “I guess…I just…feel more at ease.”
“Why didn’t you just say so? I’ve got something you can put in your mouth!”
With one hand, he’s tugging his uniform trousers down. With the other, he puts a hand on the back of your head and guides your lips towards his thick and heavy erection.
“You gotta open wide, or it won’t go in. Come on. Just give it a little suck. I’m clean, and you might even like it.”
You don’t know why, but you trust him. He’s always proved himself to be a good and genuine guy. You part your lips before taking Yuji in your mouth all the way. The positioning is awkward with you and him on the floor, but he tries to help accommodate the situation by letting you lean and move around as much as you need to in order to get comfortable.
At first, he tries his hardest to let you go at your own pace. This was supposed to be for your comfort after all. However, he just can’t help himself. His hands find their way up to your hair, fisting your locks gently as he forces you to go faster. You end up taking him deeper down your throat than you’d like.
You splay your hands against his thighs as you gag on his cock, spit flooding your mouth, drool seeping out past your lips and down your chin.
Yuji gropes your ass and lets his head tilt to the side. He can’t help but spank you, loving your ass that he feels only he should have his hands all over. Loving the sound of palm to skin, he smacks you a few more times before going back to groping your pink cheeks.
“Fuck…you give sloppy head. Fucking knew I loved you for a reason.”
That causes your heart to skip a beat as he controls your pace. You breathe through your nose and hollow out your cheeks, taking his girth in stride as best you can given the little experience you have with these things.
You can’t stop thinking about it, though, as Yuji pumps your lips up and down his dick. Does he seriously love you? You didn’t even know. Were there signs? Has he ever dropped hints? You don’t remember him giving you any. Maybe, you just weren’t paying attention…?
You make a muffled noise as Yuji’s face screws up in twisted pleasure as he releases his come down your throat, petting your head and calling you a good girl for taking him so nicely.
Your lips pop off of his cock, and you sit there for a few moments in disbelief about the entire thing.
“So, did it help?”
You swallow the thick load, gulping and licking your lips as you look away from him.
“Uh…yeah…thanks.”
You don’t know why you said that because you just feel like an even bigger stupid slut now.
70 notes · View notes
lbxbx · 10 hours
Text
Blackmail 4 | Kth
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Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader
Genre: smut, angst. Five shot
Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.
Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts
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“Come on in.” He tilts his head inviting you on the inside, you’re a little taken back when you see a full handbag stuffed with cameras and Go-pros, microphones and even spare batteries and chargers. “I didn’t know you took things that seriously.” You force a laugh and take a step inside, you approach the bag and reach your hand for one of the Go-pros. “How many of those do you have?”
“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.” He laughs, opening up the mini bar and grabbing out a bottle of sparkling water to hand it to you, “So what are you wearing for me tonight?”
You grab the water bottle and avoid his eyes, you can’t look at him anymore and you know everything changed for the worse. To you he’s this manipulative sex addict who either needs to be helped or put in jail. Things can never go back to normal with him.
“Oh, don’t get too excited, they’re just matching bra and panties.” You put the Go-pro down and unscrew the cap of your water. “Can you show me how this goes?”
“Sure, come here.” He sits in front of his iPad and grabs you a chair next to him, you hesitate before sitting down and watching what he does on his device, “I would’ve showed you how exactly I edit things, but our night with Jungkook wasn’t filmed like at all. I think I have something else unedited I’ll show it to you.”
You got lucky this time, even we you’re about to be filmed with your consent, but at least this time you were trying to get your revenge somehow.
And in seconds he digs out a couple of files that are titled to the date back when you were in the states weeks ago, it makes you think, he has several partners at once? He fucked you raw after he fucked someone else?
“Taehyung is this new?”
“Yeah, it’s back in LA, she was a local we met in a pool party—“
“How can you know that you’re fucking people who are safe?” You’re genuinely worried, for all you know you could be carrying a certain disease right now and you still haven’t showed any symptoms.
“Oh unclench. I know what I’m doing.” He scoffs and turns towards his phone that’s buzzing when someone calls him. “I have to take this, be right back.” He pulls his chair back and gets into the bathroom locking the door behind him.
You hurriedly grab your phone out and take pictures of the handbag that’s stuffed to the brim with cameras, you snap other pictures of the memory cards and the iPad screen, making sure to be quick before he leaves the bathroom.
You flip through the folders on his iPad to finally find the video from back when you two were in London, the video is freaking 38 minutes and you have to be fast.
Okay Y/N you have to be quick, we’re totally skipping the parts he was being all lovey dovey and try and find the parts where he was cuffing you or blindfolding you, it’s not long after the beginning and you film that on your phone, skipping again to reach the parts where he forced you on things and used the belt, the parts where he spanked you with it, you look around the frame hoping you’d find anything to make the video go faster but there isn’t anything. You hear the bathroom door unlocking fast enough for you to exit the video and fall back onto your chair and hold your breath. Your hands locking your phone from under the coffee table.
He looks at you suspiciously for a second, squinting his eyes, before he comes in closer to lock the iPad and get back into the bathroom to finish his call. Your hand sits on your chest when you feel your heart racing, you’re convinced you have enough evidence now and you can’t risk being caught anymore.
You encourage yourself on the inside that it’s just one last time, one last night with him before you try and get everything you want before proceeding with your plan.
He finally exits the bathroom and puts his phone down. “I need to be somewhere in an hour, you think you can be quick?”
“We can cancel tonight if you want to—“
“No.” And he doesn’t ever offer further explanation, he takes his shirt off and inches closer to you to put his hands on your hips. “You know I have to confess something.”
“What? Did you film me again?” You can hardly trust him anymore. Your hands barely sit on his chest and honestly Taehyung was really smart when it came to your body language, he can easily feel that you’re uncomfortable and you’re trying to keep distance between your bodies. The way your hands move abruptly before finally landing on his chest makes him look you in the eyes for a second without saying a single word.
“What?” You clear your throat, you can feel your own heartbeat in your ears, your fight or flight is on standby for anything that may happen any second. “A—are you… is everything okay?”
He looks around the room trying to locate your phone, it’s in your back pocket but he doesn’t see it. “Where’s your phone?”
“What?”
“Where’s your phone? Unlock it for me.” He pulls back and heads back to his station near his iPad looking around the table and almost spilling his drink from earlier on his gadgets. “It’s in my bag, what’s wrong?”
“Are you recording anything? Did you film anything? Take it out right now.” He claps his hands when he gives the order, his voice getting louder  by the second.
If you answer him no he might ask you to unlock your  phone, and if you say yes he’ll make you delete it. Both answers could lead to him actually hurting you. You need to lure him into calming down and forgetting about this. “Of course I didn’t, we’re filming this on your own cameras remember?” You walk towards him and help him unbuckle the belt around his hips. “Come on, why are you so tense tonight?”
He looks down to your hands and watches you unbuckle him. It didn’t hit you until now, but when you slept with him he past couple of times he smelled good, and tonight he’s probably wearing the same cologne but you cannot stand how he smells. What happened earlier in the studio scratched you on the inside and again, he looks so different to you right now.
He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in closer, slowly calming down from his previous agitation, and any man’s touch can easily make you melt at this point specially when his hands are already groping your ass right now, but you don’t feel anything, your body isn’t even acting upon his kisses that are pressed onto your shoulder. “Maybe you can help me relax, yeah?”
“Mhm.” You could throw up any second right now.
Women are supposed to feel wanted and desired on nights like these, but right now you felt like a sex toy that belonged to him that he could easily use and just throw it away whenever he’s done. It hurts you on the inside.
You gulp repeatedly when you insert your hand into his pants to palm his soft dick that’s slowly hardening in your hand, he buries his face into your neck to kiss you there, his breath usually sends shivers down your spine but you can’t feel anything, and if only he could see your face right now; you’re cringing and fighting back your true grossed out feelings.
“Hold on.” He pulls back and grabs one of the nearby Go-pros, and tonight he’s sober enough to remember to press record and he double checks and looks around to watch the red light turned on, after that he flips the tiny camera to film your faces and he pulls you in to kiss you.
Again, yours or any other girl’s body is truly familiar to him, and he can easily tell that you’re comfortable, but he shrugs it off thinking you’re probably “Camera shy.”
“Let’s go to bed, come on.” He pulls back and guides you towards the bed to sit, positioning the camera down on the night stand and again, double checks that it’s filming and that you’re in frame, before he leans in to kiss you on the lips once and takes your top off to reveal one of the most familiar bras to him. “Let me take it off for you.” He’s clearly not asking your permission he’s just stating what he’s about to do, and he does. Taking it off and throwing it across the room.
You hug your arms towards your chest which makes him smirk. “Look at my little slut pretending to be all shy and cute” And you are genuinely offended. You’re really seconds away from stabbing him with anything near you and easily commit a crime.
“Lay back for me.” And you do, leaning your back against the bed with tears building in your eyes. You can’t cry right now, you even remind yourself that this is the last time you’re going to have to do this, and by tomorrow your plan of getting revenge should be complete.
You stare at the ceiling when you feel his fingers working on the zipper of your jeans and pull it down, you don’t even bother looking down at him because you’re trying hard to minimize having your face in the frame.
You’re having second thoughts by now, and you just wish you drugged him or sedated him just to be able to delete all the content he has of you, you wish you just hit him in the head hard enough for him to lose his memory or something. Every scenario is in your head right now but none of them would’ve been possible.
He grips onto your panties and pulls them down before spreading your legs apart, his mouth coming in contact with your cunt and for the first time ever, this doesn’t even feel half good, in fact, you feel nothing at all.
“Mmm.” You force it out and throw your head further back into the mattress, you have to sound believable and you have to convince him that you’re enjoying this half as much as he is. “Fuck.” You roll your eyes to yourself,  you don’t sound convincing at all.
Him on the other side, his cock is in his hand stroking it while savoring your cunt, and if he wasn’t so focused on pleasuring himself, he would’ve noticed that you weren’t wet at all, it’s his third time eating you out and unlike other times, you’re not clenching and your breath is still regular really.
The only thing similar is how fast your heart is pounding, last time it was beating fast from the pleasure, but right now it’s beating even faster in fear, anxiety and grief at your own self worth that you highly doubt there’s anything left from that.
He licks his own fingers before inserting them inside you and it burns, you wish you didn’t feel anything like second ago, but right now it hurts, and at the sudden stretch you gasp and shut your legs, making him forcefully open them back up, he probably thinks you’re enjoying it but he’s self absorbed enough to not realize that.
You have to stop him.
“I’m gonna cum.” And this is the only way. The stretch of his stupid fingers hurt you enough, you’re worried at the actual thought of him fucking you, it’s going to kill you.
He’s in a total different world. His hand stops stroking his cock to focus on fucking you with his fingers, and he envelopes your cunt into his mouth, sucking onto your clit and flicking it with his tongue. Again, if he did this any other night the neighbors would’ve probably heard you.
“Fuck.” You close your legs and cover your own cunt and start breathing fast, giving him the illusion of actually cumming when you’re not, “That’s it cum for me.” He nibbles onto your thighs and doesn’t even stop, continuing to fuck you through  your “Orgasm.”
“Stop, you’re going to make me sore already.” Your voice is shaky because you’re about to cry your eyes out. He pulls back finally and climbs up towards you. “Come on baby, ride my dick and make me cum, we have to be quick.”
“Mhm.” You push him to land onto the bed and grab the Go-pro, you can call yourself pity but you had to do it eventually. You point the Go-pro to his face and wrap your fingers around his neck before positioning yourself on top of him. “You want me to ride you huh?”
“Mmhm.” He runs his hands onto your thighs, he’s more than thrilled to see you film him and he even thinks you two are on the same page now, he thinks that this is your kink too and that you’re having fun.
“Did any of the girls make you beg before?” You whisper, looking into the camera and making sure he’s in the frame. “Are you gonna make me beg?”
“It’s the least you can do.” You smirk, your eyes focused on the camera as an excuse to avoid his eyes, but his are locked onto you. “I don’t beg.”
You gather enough courage to slap him on the face before tightening your grip around his neck. “I said beg.” Your chest is heaving and your heartbeat is in your ears, you made an excuse just to hit him in the face and it’s working.
“I’m not begging.” He bites onto his lips and his dark eyes stare onto yours. He clearly enjoyed this and likes being slapped in the face, so you do it again, this time stronger than before and doing it twice. “Then you’re not getting any pussy.” And you’re actually about to get up but he pulls you back down. “No no, please, please ride my dick.” It’s totally half assed but you truly don’t care.
You position yourself right on top of him and willingly point the head of his cock to your cunt but he points it towards your puckered hole last minute and helps you land down.
You feel him up in your back and your body stiffens at the painful stretch, you’re not wet enough and his precum wasn’t enough to let him slide easily inside you.  “Get the lube from behind you.” And you stretch behind you to get it, letting him handle it and squirt some onto his cock, and some into his hand to rub your hole and help you land again. “Shit.” You focus again and point the camera to his face.
“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?” You ask, and he throws his head back in pleasure, the tightness around his cock is unbelievable. “Fuck.”
“Answer me.” You deliver another slap to his face, slowly lifting your hip up to land back down, “Y-yes, shit.” For the first time ever you see him this weak, and god is good.
You can’t deny with the lube and the stretch, it’s doing something to your body but still not enough to get you to your end, your hand tightens around the camera and the other one is still wrapped around his neck, tightening more with each time you bounce on his dick, “I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”
“Fuck yes.” He grits onto his own teeth, he has enough discipline to not pound into you and actually makes you take control for the rest of your fuck. “You’re one of the best baby.” He admits, and that’s all you need to get on camera, you finally turn it off and put both your hands on his torso for support to ride him faster, his grip tightens around your thighs and his fingernails dig into your skin, his jaw slowly dropping down and his eyelids getting heavier. “Do you wanna cum?” You ask.
“Please make me cum.” And frankly Taehyung has never experienced anything like this, it’s usually him who takes control and he’s in charge for all the hitting and spanking. Tonight he thinks he’s having a different flavor and he likes it, but in fact this has been your plan that you came up within a short span of time.
It’s taking him so long to cum and at this point your calves burn and your ass hurts, you’re not interested to actually cum but still you’re putting in the effort for a man who doesn’t even deserve to be with a woman.
You pull back and point his cock up towards him to stroke it fast enough to make him cum on his own body, you already can’t stand anything from this man so again, totally not worth soiling yourself.
“Fuck, stop—“ He whimpers, pulling on his own hair when you don’t stop stroking him, “It hurts, please stop.” And you finally stop and get out of bed to collect your clothes and put them on. And as usual, he gets up and makes his way towards the bathroom and you hear the shower water running.
Come on Y/N, be quick.
“How many of those do you have?”
“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.”
You dig into his handbag and pick up one of the Go-pros, and switch it with the one you used earlier before hiding it in your purse, quickly putting on your clothes and leaving the place.
You call a taxi to your apartment and quickly pull out your iPad. You switched your phone off worried that he’ll actually find out about the missing camera and call you, totally didn’t cross your mind that if he found out he could actually come by to take it.
You work faster than ever to transfer the video to your iPad, cutting the beginning when he forced you into the kiss, and leaving in the part that you wanted.
“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?”
“Y-yes, shit.”
“I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”
“You’re one of the best baby.”
He wants to blackmail you? He can go ahead.
You’re easily going to lose your job and you may actually not end up hired any place else. But him? He has a whole career, a fandom, and an image to lose, and he can do nothing to cover it up if you actually do end up posting the video online.
You would easily be fired but him? He’ll have to go through lawsuits and actual things that can easily take him down. Of course once they found out that he’s been with other women and he blackmailed them, he could possibly go to jail too.
You delete the video from the Go-pro and turn it off, making sure you already have the videos and the pictures you took earlier on your iPad and phone. You’re ready for anything. If he does it, you’ll do it too.
-
The next couple of days were just like any other day, they had a birthday party to go to and you had to be there to have them ready, and luckily it was only Jungkook and Jimin going, and one of your friends was out of town so you had to fill in for her.
And you’d be lying if you say things weren’t awkward with Jungkook in the beginning, but he’s a total sweetheart and even after what happened that night, he suddenly appreciates you more and one hour in and he’s joking and making you laugh and you’re just having fun.
What  you currently have with Jungkook is truly healthy. You two slept together once and he never brought it up again nor made you feel awkward about it
“You’re done.” Jimin finally gets up and leaves the room along with his stylist, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the room, and the atmosphere turns upside down and you two steal glances from each other awkwardly, you keep trying to pretend to be occupied and focused, but his lips are twitching and he wants to say something. Someone has to address the elephant in the room.
“So, how are you?” He genuinely asks, if it was Taehyung asking you’d know exactly what he’s trying to do, but Jungkook asks because he’s interested in finding out how you’re actually doing.
“I’m good haven’t slept well last night that’s all.” You gave him a vague answer, he rolls his eyes. “Come on Y/N, you know exactly what I mean.”
“Not really.” You dig into the makeup bag trying to find one of the brushes, he sighs and turns his head fully towards you. “I heard from him that you two slept together again.”
“O-oh. He told you?”
“And he told me other things, I hope you’re hanging in there.” With his doe eyes he tilts his head full with sympathy, it seems that he knows about the entire story. “Can’t you help?” It’s the first thing that came up to your mind and he shrugs. “I tried, this isn’t your problem, it’s his problem too, he just… I think he needs help.” He scratches his eyebrow.
“I need help too.” You put your hand onto your chest. “What exactly did he tell you?”
“I know he filmed you, and I know he’s blackmailing you, which believe me, I find it truly immoral.” He lowers his voice.
“There isn’t anything moral about the whole thing to begin with Jungkook, blackmailing can’t be moral in any way.”
“He could’ve asked respectfully—“
You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, oh hey Y/N, please sleep with me? No? can I please blackmail you?” You mock Taehyung’s voice which makes Jungkook scrunch his nose and laugh. “Touché.”
“I don’t want to hurt him Jungkook, but I have things that could possibly ruin his entire career, tell him that, and let know that if he ever tries to blackmail me into anything, he’ll regret it.”
“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He sighs apologetically, “I have to stay out of this, I really want to help you but risking his career means risking my career too, and he’s my best friend. If you were going through this with someone else believe me I would’ve sent them to jail, but I can’t hurt him. So I’m sorry, but you’re on your own and I wish you luck.”
It’s mixed feelings really, he’s partially right, but he can’t help his best friend be a total douche and just stay quiet. “No hard feelings?” He reaches his hand out to shake yours. “I don’t want things to get awkward ever again between us, we’re coworkers and friends and we’re around each other the entire time.”
“No hard feelings.” You shake his hand.
-
The first weekend after going back to work always tasted different, you finally have enough time to catch onto some sleep and rot onto your couch in your place binge watching a series or something on your TV before falling asleep any time you want.
You would usually go out with your friends but tonight you’re feeling tired and a little rusty so you chose to stay home.
On the other hand Taehyung still didn’t find out about his missing camera, he collected them that night and put them into his hand bag, and when he drove home he was going to actually edit the video, but he got too lazy to actually open all twelve of the cameras to find the content you filmed earlier that night.
He  shrugged it off and called it a night, and since then he’s been busy with his schedule and he haven’t had the time to edit anything, he’s been working so hard this week and on this Friday night, he felt like he needed to reward himself.
And he’s rotten spoiled, thinking he can have everything in a single phone call, so he picks up his phone and shuffles through his contacts until he finds Mira’s number and he calls her asking her to spend the night with him, but she’s out of town visiting her parents so he can’t pressure her on situations like these.
He scrolls again and spots your name, before he calls, it takes him a couple of minutes to think, he’s been spending more nights with you to the point where he feels like he needs the change, he has never liked “Leftovers” So he scrolls further down and calls other girls, all of them are suddenly out of town or sick.
He rolls his eyes and scrolls back to your name and calls you with no hesitation this time.
You had fallen asleep  on your couch with your phone in your hand, and your entire body flinches when it starts ringing in your hand. Your heart is racing when you can predict the purpose of this call, and it’s two possibilities really.
One, he wants his camera back and he found out that you had switched them that night.
Two, he didn’t find out, and he just wants to spend the night with you because why else would he call you on a Friday night? Little do you know that you were his last choice.
“Hello?” You answer, he can tell that you’re sleeping.
“Y/N, it’s a Friday night, are you sleeping already?”
“Yeah, I’m really tired, everything okay?” You’re asking not because you care about him personally, you’re just testing waters trying to see if it’s the first possibility or the second one.
“I’m tired too, do you think you can come over? Maybe we can comfort each other, I could help you relax…” You’re a little relieved it’s not about the cameras. “… and you could help me relax too.”
“No Taehyung, I’m really tired and I have to go to bed.”
“Come on Y/N, you don’t want me to—“
And you interrupt right away. “You don’t wanna do this, I’m respectfully saying no and none of this can happen again.”
“Y/N honey, this isn’t your choice to begin with, you’re one of my girls now, remember?” You cannot believe him. You close your eyes and sigh. “I’m out of town Tae, I’m visiting a relative on the outskirts.”
“Oh are you?” He suspects you’re lying, he chuckles and continues. “You know I can easily find out your location Y/N, and if you’re lying, then I guess..”
You look into your phone screen and immediately record the call. “Tell me, Taehyung, what are you gonna do?”
“I can come over if you want, I can meet that relative of yours, and maybe we can go out and find a place to enjoy our evening together.” He whispers the last part.
“No.” You simply answer. “I’m over with this Taehyung, I’m not sleeping with you ever again.”
“Alright Y/N, you can just kiss your job goodbye, and if I were you, I wouldn’t bother coming to work Monday morning. Good night.”
You shut your eyes tightly. “Taehyung wait.” You’re seconds away from begging him again.
The call is still ongoing but he doesn’t answer. “Taehyung?” and the ill guy psychotically laughs and answers. “I knew you’d change your mind.”
“I’m really out of town, if I were there I’d come over, but I’m not.” You try your best to convince him but you don’t sound convincing at all. “Just please, I can’t do anything for you right now, I’ll see you on Monday or something.”
“Don’t bother, good night.” And this time he hangs up for real, you feel yourself seconds away from actually going unconscious.
That’s it, you lost your job, you lost everything you worked hard to build through these few years, your thoughts are rushing in your head, you’ve reached a dead end.
You’re not going to sleep with him ever again and that’s it, you can’t change your mind.
If he chose to actually post your video or show it to anyone then your job and your reputation are long gone.
And if you chose to post if before he does, you’ll lose your job anyway, but at least you could hurt him just like he did and perhaps end his career, you need to show the world his true colors.
You grow weaker by the second, balling your eyes out and realizing that none of this can actually be fixed, you’re seconds away from changing your mind and just getting ready to go to his place, you would probably be able to save your job but not your dignity and self worth though.
This can’t go on, it can’t happen, this has to be a nightmare.
-
The five stages of grief were quite obvious on your behavior, when Monday came by you were in denial, totally denying the fact that he will do anything or take things seriously, you kept thinking that oh, he’s probably just doing that the pressure you into saying yes and going to his place, he’s not a bad person, he just lost control on his own behaviors to the point where he had to blackmail you. You spent your entire day trying to make up excuses on why he had to behave this way.
Because if he truly wanted to post the videos you would’ve known from the beginning of the day, but everything went completely normal.
And on Tuesday you woke up living the second stage of grief, you were fuming angry, your fingertips are on fire and you were quite agitated the entire day, he mentioned things again and this time you could swear he was seconds away from giving out everything to the public. You ended up taking so many breaks that day just to avoid yelling in his face or even physically attacking him, the way he looked at you made you feel like you were an item he could use whenever he wanted which drove you mad.
The way he breathed around you loudly all huffing and scoffing made you count to ten before doing anything or saying any word.
The way his language changes when he’s around you, talking to you like you’re only existing for sex and just to please him, treating you like an empty creature who was just created to be fucked and thrown away, he made you feel cheap.
The way his fingers move trying to “tease” you, thinking that this would probably get you in the mood to do anything with him, the way his palm caressed your cheeks whenever he turned his face towards you, the way his fingertips would run down your neck while you were working on the face that you wish you can just deform.
You can hear your heartbeat into your ears and you were constantly breathless, if feels like you’re running miles. You despise Kim Taehyung.
On Wednesday you projected the third stage of grief, bargaining. You showed up to work extremely tired from the anger issues you went home with the day before, your mind was all over the place, the crew would call you to be at a certain place and you’re just not focused, you’re barely working on the face in front of you and luckily it’s not him.
Seokjin had a shooting and you were there to cover up for your friend Leah who suddenly couldn’t show up, she’s saying that she caught a cold but you swear you saw her going home the night before with Taehyung and here you start to actually bargain.
Well at least he’s seeing someone else, you have Leah and other girls that could easily cover up for you, and what if you actually got exposed? You’re not in this alone, at least you can go home back to your family and live a normal life without having to go through any of this again.
But do you really want the normal life back?
Which brings us to Thursday, you’re clearly depressed and the fourth stage of grief is visible on your face and even on your work attire. You showed up in sweatpants and a button up, you haven’t showered this morning and your hair was messily put in a ponytail, your eyes are loose and you can barely answer people around you.
You kept sighing and you were clearly in your own world. Your life is going to be over anytime soon, the dream you’re in right now is about to be robbed away from you and you’re about to wake up, it’s going to be the end of you.
Not that you were unhappy back then, but you like your life a whole lot better now, you get to travel, show up to parties, events and hell even meet people you thought you’d never meet, it’s a brand new world that you never dreamt of, and it’s about to be taken away from you.
You sulk back into your chair and close your eyes, totally not in the mood to work or see anyone.
On Friday, you were brushing your teeth when it suddenly hit you. You went through the previous stages of grief and there’s only stage left that you find it hard to swallow.
Acceptance.
Acceptance? Do you think you’ll ever be there?
Do you think you’ll be able to just accept the fact that someone with issues is going to blackmail you and take your dream away from you just because he needs… Sex?
Do you think you’ll accept to be “one of his girls.” And just give away your principles?
Girl fuck the principles, if you have to save your career just do it. Are you really thinking that right now?
You rinse and get ready for work, as much as you liked Fridays, but you hate them and fear them now; it’s the weekends and people usually go out and in Taehyung’s case, he scrolls through his contact list trying to find his hookup for the night.
It makes you think that does he really not have a life? His coworkers are a blast to be around and they’re really fun and entertaining, he could just spend the night with them or even go visit his other friends or family, but no it has become a ritual for him.
Every Friday night if he has nothing specifically planned, he’ll end up scrolling through his contact list and seeing who he feels like fucking that night, whether it was girls from the company or even someone he randomly hooked up with before, or even foreigners.
And frankly his contact list has over two hundred different women that he sometimes forgets what they look like, and thank god for the content he made, it has helped him several times when it comes to remembering their faces and bodies, and what they did and how they did.
You get into your workplace and today there’s nothing planned on the schedule and they’re not filming anything, they had a meeting with a modeling agency and you had to be there to sculpt his face and mask the true Taehyung away from them quite literally.
“How are you?” He crosses his arms and throws his head back closing his eyes and giving you the space to work. “Good.” And it’s more than enough of an answer.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asks.
“Yes.” Your answers clearly mean that you’re not willing to talk but he still insists on talking.
“You know, Y/N, I’m being so forgiving with you right now, you know I can easily post your videos…” He starts talking and that’s when it hits you.
Acceptance. It’s finally here.
Honestly Taehyung is full of shit, you’ve lost count to the times he actually threatened you and yet he still doesn’t post anything, you’re just going to have to accept the fact that he is in fact, full of shit.
He’s still mumbling but you’re not listening.
“Whatever, you can do whatever you want.” You shrug carelessly still focused on his face. Maybe acting careless will get him to think that it doesn’t matter to you and that you’re not scared.
But deep down you actually still shit your pants whenever this is mentioned.
“Yeah, I know, and I want us to hookup tonight.” He knows exactly what you mean but he decides to play his own games. “Cancel with your friends, you’re not going.”
Isn’t this new? Your jaw almost drops down, you can’t believe this man. “Excuse me?”
He turns to face you with fire behind his eyes and he clearly speaks. “Cancel with your friends. You are not going.”
“Sure.” You sarcastically answer and put your brush down. “Get up, I’ll call over one of the girls to finish your face.” You couldn’t handle things anymore.
The day passed by better when you can no longer see him, and you didn’t lie when you told him that you have things planned for tonight, you were supposed to go out with your girl friends to celebrate a birthday in a club that was five blocks away from your place, so you went home and changed into a dress and went out to spend your night drinking and dancing.
It has been so long since you actually got the chance to meet up with them and you don’t remember the last time you went to a club, so you enjoyed your night way more than you should have and probably exaggerated and totally lost counts of the drinks you had.
They insisted to walk you home but you immediately said no, you needed to walk and perhaps sweat away the alcohol, even when you could barely balance on your own legs nevertheless in heels, but you still made it to your place, you rub your eyes before trying to click the pass code onto the door and right before you put the last number you turn your head.
He’s right here behind you, only a couple of steps away with his hands in his pockets and a cap on his head. He shows you a toothy smile before asking. “How was your night?”
“Ugh, Taehyung, I’m about to throw up you don’t want to be near me.” You put your hand up in the air and turn back to your door. Something tells you to not open the door yet until he leaves, so you turn towards him. “I’ll see you on Monday.” 
“Let me in, we could probably chat and catch up, I miss you.” He feigns whatever this is and takes the couple of steps towards you, cupping your cheek and taking a whiff. “Tequila, I smell something else but I can’t tell what it is, but you’re drunk huh?”
“Yeah, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t take advantage of me.” You press your hand onto his chest trying to push him away but he’s stronger than you are when you’re sober, but when you’re drunk? He could easily take you down and you wouldn’t be able to lift up a finger.
“Taehyung, I’m not joking, I’ll probably throw up on you if you stay close.” You’re not lying, but this doesn’t stop him. Everything progressed too fast and now suddenly his hands are climbing up under your dress and groping onto your ass, his other hand wrapping around your body to pull you in closer to his before sandwiching you against your own door, his lips moving too fast towards your neck and not thinking twice before kissing you everywhere.
“Taehyung, stop, please.” You sound alarmed and scared, your hands are still working to push him away but it barely does anything. His right hand gets under your panties and lands onto your clit to rub you aggressively, and it hurts.
“Stop!” You’re loud enough and the neighbors probably heard you. “Please, get away from me, don’t touch me.” You clench your fists and start hitting his chest hoping that he’d pull back but he doesn’t and it’s slowly killing you. You’re feeling light headed and you know what’s coming up next.
Your legs can barely balance onto the floor and you’re swallowing repeatedly, you’re going to.. “I’m gonna throw up.” Exactly. You announce and he pulls back a second late, you’ve already puked the drinks from tonight onto the sleeve of his sweatshirt, you’re coughing and holding your hair back while throwing up whatever is left into your stomach.
Taehyung being the gentleman he is, doesn’t even offer help or anything, you could easily go unconscious but what matters the most right now is his expensive sweatshirt that’s spoiled. A grossed out frown wears on his face and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “You crazy bitch, I’ll fucking show you.”
And he turns to leave the building and you hear him mutter on his way out. “I’ll fucking show you, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
Whoa, the world is spinning around you, aren’t you supposed to feel better after you throw up? You unlock your door finally and throw off your heels before plopping down onto your couch and grabbing out your phone.
“You’ll teach me a valuable lesson, Kim Taehyung? In your fucking dreams.”
You go into your media and select the recorded call, the pictures you have taken of his handbag stuffed with Go-pros, the video from back in London specifically the parts where he used the belt and hand cuffed you, and the video you filmed the other night specifically when he told you that you’re one of his girls.
Before finally pressing the share button.
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h0neylevi · 11 hours
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tags: fem!reader, spanking, use of 'good girl', praise, fingering, implied overstimulation
w/c: 866
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It takes all of ten minutes after you get home from the airport for Levi to have your mind numb with pleasure.
He’s been gone for a week—away for some work conference that sent him halfway across the country. Often, when he’s gone like this, he hardly has time to even call you at the end of each day, and this last week has been no exception.
You missed him, and from the way he all but throws you onto the bed after he’s put his suitcase down, you’d be foolish to think the feeling wasn’t mutual.
You’ve been stripped down to nothing. The set of cute lingerie you’d worn to pick him up lays in a pile with the rest of your clothes, quickly disregarded by Levi in favor of feeling the soft give of your flesh underneath.
Now you’re draped over his lap on your stomach, struggling to string together a single coherent thought as two of Levi’s fingers stretch you open.
He’s still dressed. The creases of his dress shirt remain wrinkle-free despite your wiggling, sleeves folded neatly up to his elbows. His tie is the only thing discarded, the silky fabric now deftly wound around your wrists in a makeshift bind, freeing him from the hassle of your roaming hands.
A week apart and you’re not allowed to touch him. If you could think, you’d call it a punishment worse than torture.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” he coos. “Is this what you thought about while I was gone?”
You open your mouth to reply, but he takes that moment to curl his fingers in just the right way to heat your blood to molten levels. An airy moan slips from your throat instead and gets smothered by the pillow supporting your head.
His other palm comes down on your ass, striking once and then again.
“Answer me.”
Your mouth hangs open without a sound, momentarily caught between delicious pain and pleasure. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” He rewards you by rolling his fingers over your clit, generously coating it in your arousal. “You always make such pretty noises for me. Let me hear them.”
Sparks ignite in your belly, hips rolling to chase the sensation of his fingers, but he pulls away just as your legs begin to shake.
You whine. “Levi–”
He ignores you in favor of watching his fingers slowly sink inside of you again. His eyes practically glow with reverence in the dim lighting. “Look at you, making such a mess.”
Embarrassment burns your face. You’re probably dripping all over his finely-pressed trousers, staining the fabric, but you can’t bring yourself to care about stopping. All you can think about is the growing, aching need in your belly as he starts again.
“Levi, please. I–”
His fingers disappear. Another smack to your ass makes you flinch and squirm.
“I didn’t tell you to speak.” He frowns. “You’re not in any position to be making demands. Were you this fucked out when you forgot to put away the toys?”
You still for a moment, trying to connect the dots. It’s like your brain is attempting to wade through quicksand but slowly, you remember.
There was one rule you both followed when he went away on long work trips: no touching without permission. The one rule that up until last night you’d never broken.
Pleasure ebbs from your limbs, and you breathe a pathetic whine into the dampened fabric of the pillow. You need to move, but you’re at Levi’s mercy like this—bound and unable to do anything without his help.
You feel his free palm caress your hip, right over the sensitive spot he’d spanked just moments prior.
“M’sorry.” Your voice is a labored half-sob, half-gasp, muffled from being pressed against the pillow. “I just missed you.”
It’s a last ditch effort and you know it. Discipline is a language that Levi knows well, and his capacity for self-control sometimes makes your head spin. He already looks barely affected by comparison. The only sign that he’s worked up at all is the subtle feeling of his length against your side, concealed but nonetheless straining beneath layers of fabric. Your hands clench into loose fists in the binds. To have that level of restraint aimed at you sends an excited thrill up your spine.
You almost expect him to discipline you for speaking out of turn again, but instead you feel his hand move from your thigh to grant you a few slow swipes over your aching clit. Just enough to keep you on the edge, eager for more.
“I know you’re sorry,” he says softly. The shift in his tone makes your shoulders relax, but his fingers swiftly move, pushing deep inside of you at a pace that has your toes curling.
“Since you want to come so bad, let’s see how many you can give me.” His fingers begin to pump and curl inside of you more quickly, hitting the spot that makes your legs quake and turn to jelly. Your back arches, finally giving him full access to the clear and punctuated moan that’s ripped from your throat. “Let’s start with one for every day I was gone, hm?”
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cookie-crumblr · 1 day
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GN!READER x 3 YANDERE OC’s
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thinking about how Enix, Lucy and Issac would be the first three of my OC’s to cut our legs off if we disobeyed them or tried to run away an i MMMMMMMMMM
CW: GN! Reader, no body descriptions for reader, dismemberment of reader, reader referred to as they/them, murder, drugging, vomit(non descriptive dw), spoilers for lucky, permanent body mutilation, non con, p in whatever hole you have, somno(in Enix’s part), reader has hair in lucy’s part mentioned (not described) Not proof read!
!!MINORS DNI!!
Enix~
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When you first awoke in shackles, you couldn’t imagine staying! this guy that you had once thought was just a shy nerd, turning out to be a psychopath to this extent!? You can’t!
You think of a plan to escape as soon as you can.
He let you loose after a while. you promised you’d be good, schmoozed up to him too, pretending nothing had changed. And he believed you.
You ran the first chance you got. A neighbor saw you running in your underwear and hurried you inside. You asked to call the police, she rushed to find her phone.
But too soon after, Enix busts through her front door.
He has a pair of hedge trimmers in his hand… You tried to run but you were frozen solid watching him beat the old woman to death with them. You tried to tear yourself away from the gorey scene unfolding, you tried to run, but he caught you.
“Butterflyyyy~ Looks like Ill have to rip off your wings after all…” He holds you tightly in his grasp, his tall body fully encasing you. “I really didn’t want to”
He injects you with something as he’s holding you, and you feel your body grow suddenly so heavy and your vision fades.
Now he’s looking over your precious, sleeping form, you are even easier to watch and protect! and he can’t help but love how dependent you’ll be on him from now on.
His dick throbs.
You’re so perfect, even just sleeping under anesthesia. He lifts your stumps and gently feels his work… He shouldn’t. He stops himself. Not yet anyway, he wouldn’t want to injure you while you’re in a serious recovery phase.
But soon, he’ll definitely put you back under to fully enjoy what he’s done.
Upon waking you feel terrified… Something is so very wrong! you can’t move your legs! You shoot up into a sitting position, and see the reason…
You vomit over the edge of the bed.
Your legs are gone.
(He definitely mounts them on the wall in the bedroom with a little plaque and everything like they’re one of his prized specimens)
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Lucy~
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You’ve disobeyed her too many times recently, you’ve ran and hid yourself inside the forbidden red doored room.
You didn’t anticipate how obsessed with you she turned out to be.
The room is completely filled in every corner with something that has to do with you. Pictures and posters of you cover the walls, they look professionally taken. The shelves are filled with photo albums, journals detailing your days and old documents. Some have your thrown out med bottles, vials of what you can only assume is cum in some and blood in the others…. You shiver. You don’t want to keep looking, but it’s all around you.
There’s what looks like some kind of Alter at the front and center of the room.
You find it hard to breathe in here…
You think you might get sick if you stay too long.
There are two windows that don’t have screens on either side of the alter. You dash to one of them and try it, luckily, it slides right open.
“Where are they!?” She screeches. You hear her heels clicking against the wood down the hall. “Find them.”
You escape down a trellis covered in blue morning glories, and run into the gardens.
All too soon you’re being tackled to the grass, as one of Lucy’s guards finds you.
Lucy walks out next, taking her time to get to you, building up even more of your tremendous anxiety. Your heart is thumping in your throat, you can see each beat pulsing in your vision. You’ve never seen her so mad!
The guard holds you down obediently.
She’s got an axe.
“You don’t need both of your legs, right Y/N?” She stands over you.
“Wh-what??”
“Hold them still.” She says to the guard.
“Lu-Lucy!?”
She brings down the axe onto your thigh, a harsh, heavy pain bursts through you and you scream out. Your bone definitely snapped but she wasn’t strong enough to take off your leg in one clean hit….
She brings it down a second time, missing the same spot and just causing you more blinding pain, you scream until you’re coughing and almost vomiting.
“LUCY!!! STOP!!!!” You beg and plead but she looks wildly ecstatic as she brutally mutilates your body.
Again the axe comes down finally separating your leg from your body. the pain is immense and your blood soaks the garden bed. You’re so dizzy and you feel sick, you’re writhing and sobbing just glad the worst is over.
“Call the doctor. And a taxidermist.” She licks your blood off of the axe before she throws it and picks up her dress instead, and steps over you. Her body falls over yours, cradling your face in her arms as she now sits on your midsection. You’re fading in and out of consciousness and weakly try to do anything, but the pain is overwhelming.
“Aw… You’re so cute Y/N, I can’t stay mad at you~!” She pets you and wipes some sweat slicked hair off of your forehead.
Her soft lips come down to yours, you barely register the sensation. As you’re fading you feel her rocking her hips on you.
(She def keeps them in her worship room)
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Issac~
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“This is necessary, Y/N!”
“NO ISSAC PLEASE!!!!!” You threaten to rip your vocal cords with how loud you’re screaming!
He brings the hacksaw to your thigh, right under your cheek. You feel the rough metal touch you and flail wildly.
You’re on your stomach so you thankfully don’t have to watch…
“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!” You repeat over and over, snot and tears staining your face.
“I hate to do this to you i swear! But you’ve made me! we told you not to run!!”
“I WONT I WONT I SWEAR I WONT!!!”
“We already gave you that chance.” He states coldly.
The metal touches your flesh once more, but this time he slides it across with pressure enough to cut right down to your bone. You feel the vibrations against the solid part of your body and shiver. The pain is intense and you don’t recognize the voice coming out of you anymore.
You writhe and curl into yourself against the concrete while he pushes the saw back over you, and then again.
The pain doesn’t stop when he stops cutting.
It’s the most intense thing you’ve ever felt.
You’re biting your lip and groaning and wailing when he puts it in you.
“What!!” You cant wrap your head around what’s happening! He’s entering you, while your bleeding out from your thigh!
He spreads your legs wider, you hear him sloshing around in the puddle of your blood.
He fully shoves himself inside you without regard, he can’t help himself every time that you’re completely at his mercy.
You’re all out of wailing at this point, you’re throat is too dry and torn. Your vision is filling with black spots and you feel terrified. All you feel is the throbbing numbness of where your leg used to be, and his huge dick slowly stroking your insides.
You feel the familiar sweat inducing sensation of a saw blade against your other thigh now, You can’t even scream anymore or beg him to stop, you just feel your skin start to be torn open all over again and pass out.
He cums inside you and it spills out around his length mixing into your blood puddle.
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