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miraculousmultifan · 8 months

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The months following Steve's fight with Billy and the excursion through the Mind Flayer’s tunnels found Steve at a bit of a loss. The animosity between him and Hargrove had only grown exponentially, but it didn’t bother him as much as it used to. Sure, Hargrove sucked ass, and he had definitely taken over as the newest reigning douchebag, but that kind of stuff just didn’t matter to Steve anymore.

So at school, he found himself sitting with Nancy and Jonathan during lunch. It was a bit awkward considering Nancy and Jon were dating, but he didn’t exactly have any other friends, and he really didn't want to sit alone.

It was early February, and Steve was picking at his cafeteria food, barely listening to the conversation Nancy and Jonathan were having. He was lost in his own thoughts, staring into space blankly.

Across the cafeteria, Eddie Munson was jumping onto a table and taunting several different cliques as he went on a long monologue about society and social norms that most students tended to tune out. Steve watched him with a small smile, pushing his food around his tray. Then, Eddie was throwing barbs at Hargrove, Tommy H, and Carol. Steve winced slightly, knowing the words probably applied to him too, but he couldn't help feeling that Eddie wasn’t exactly saying anything untrue about them.

Before he could tear his attention away, Eddie was turning to face him. Steve's eyes widened. He hadn't even said anything! He’d been laying low ever since their last run-in with the Upside Down, just trying to graduate. So why was Eddie putting his attention on him now?

Eddie jumped down from the table and sauntered over to where Steve was sitting, throwing a leg over the bench to straddle the spot next to him. “Harrington.”

Now that Eddie was so close, Steve could see a slight red tint to his eyes, and he relaxed a little. He was just high.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve replied, giving him a weak smile in response.

Most of the attention on Eddie had dispersed, but Steve could still feel the piercing gaze of Hargrove on the side of his face. That jackass just would not leave him alone, even if he was trying to avoid altercations for Max's sake.

Eddie leaned an elbow on the table to hold his head up with his hand. “How's the fall from grace treating you, my liege?”

Steve blinked. “Huh?”

Jonathan leaned over from where he was chatting with Nancy. “He’s calling you a king. Asking about how you're doing after everyone dropped you for Billy.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie smirked. “With more dramatic flair than that, but yeah, essentially.”

“Oh.” Steve floundered, looking between Nancy and Jon as he tried to think of an answer. “Well, it’s been nice not having as much attention, I guess. Nothing all that interesting has happened to me.”

Nancy hid a snort behind her hand, turning to bury her face into Jonathan’s shoulder. Eddie raised a curious eyebrow but didn’t comment on her reaction.

“Surely the life of a king has to have some frivolities. Raging parties, swooning ladies, the like…”

Steve scrunched his nose. “Nah, man. My parents cut off my allowance after my last concussion, so I don’t exactly have the funds for that kind of thing anymore.” He didn’t know why he was confiding that kind of information in Eddie, but it wasn’t like he cared that much about what people thought of him anymore. Eddie could spread it around if he really wanted to. “I just babysit Nancy and Jon’s little brothers and their friends. I promise it’s nothing interesting.”

Smirking, Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I'm sure you could make anything interesting, Harrington. Especially looking like that.”

Steve blushed bright red from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Oh god. Was Eddie flirting with him? “Oh. Um, thank you! I'm sure you're pretty interesting too.”

That seemed to snap Eddie out of whatever weird flirty persona he had let settle over him. “Right. Good talk. I'm gonna go now. Have a good lunch, Steve.”

And then Eddie was gone, back to his table as he ranted at his friends with increasingly frantic gestures. Steve stared after him for a bit, biting his lip and trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his chest. On the other side of the table, Nancy let out a pointed cough with a smug smirk.

“So…” She started. “Wanna tell us what that was all about?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “You witnessed the exact same thing that I did, Nance. I don't have any insider information.”

Nancy giggled. “No, not that. I’m talking about how you blushed like a little schoolgirl when Eddie called you interesting. You wanna tell us about it?”

Shooting another look at Eddie’s table, Steve started to reply before he noticed that some of Eddie’s friends were looking at him. His eyes widened and he whipped back around. “I have no clue what you're talking about. Jon, back me up here.”

“Sorry, dude.” Jonathan winced with a sheepish shrug. “You were pretty red. I mean he did call you hot, so I guess I get it…”

Steve sighed and let his head drop to the table. “I really don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, Nance. He came over here, talked to us, called the way I look interesting, and left. Sure, I may have gotten a little red, but he was leaning really close.”

Smirking, Nancy leaned over the table to flick the back of Steve’s head. “You’re wrong about one thing. He didn’t come over to talk to us. He only talked to you. I think he finds you more than just interesting.”

Standing up from the table abruptly, Steve shook his head. “We’re not talking about this. It’s not like it matters that much anyway. He was probably just trying to mess with me. I’ll see you guys later.” Steve grabbed his tray and walked off, trying and failing to stop himself from sneaking a glance at Eddie’s table.

Much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie was looking right back at him. When their eyes met, he smirked and waggled his fingers at Steve in a wave. Steve blushed, his eyes wide, and he stumbled, almost bumping into another student in the process.

#mira writes #post-season 2 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie x steve #drabble #fanfic #fanfiction #st

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daycourtofficial · 2 months

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Save your tears

Summary: Eris finds his pregnant mate sobbing because of something Lucien did

Author’s note: this is short and fun and silly and goofy, inspired by this fic by @artethyst

Lucien Vanserra considered himself to be a male who was kind and who picked up on the emotional state of those around him.

Which is why he has no idea how you began crying or what to do about it.

Ever since you had written to him a few months ago asking if he could stay in Autumn more frequently during your pregnancy, he had obliged, stopping by to see you at least once a week.

Tears were streaming down your face, and he couldn’t make out a single coherent word from you due to your blubbering. He came to sit next to you, but you put your hands on your belly, scooting further away from him.

Eris strode into the room, taking in the scene before him. You trying to stay as far away from his brother as possible, and his brother trying to get closer to you to console you.

“Lucien, what could you have possibly done to reduce my mate to a sobbing mess?”

Lucien throws his hands around, gesturing wildly, “What I did? Perhaps she’s woken from whatever spell she was under and realized who she was mated to.”

Eris gives his brother a look as he comes to you, grabbing your face gently so you look into his eyes. He takes deep slow breaths, wanting you to do the same. After a moment of deep breathing, your sobs have quieted and he asks, in an incredibly delicate tone, “What’s wrong, fawn?”

“Lucien killed a spider,” you sob out.

Lucien’s eyes widen, “that’s why you’re upset? You asked me to kill it! You were upset over it being here!”

“Yes, and now the spider’s dead and she probably had a whole spider family that is going to starve because you’re a spider murderer,” you reply, having to stop every few words to breathe. “And,” you stress, “her corpse is over there, discarded like she meant nothing.”

Eris kept his lips pressed tightly to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his pregnant mate and his brother as they continued debating the morality of Lucien killing the spider. He watches his brother go to pick up the spider’s body, unlatching a window, and tossing it out before closing the window again, before turning to you, his face asking are you happy now?

You squeak at his callousness and disregard for it, asking, “is that what you shall do with me when I perish?”

Lucien rolls his eyes, “gods I don’t think I’ll be around to witness your death because all of the spiders across the land will kill me in vengeance for their fallen queen.”

Eris sits next to you, pulling you in towards his body, sending waves of love and joy through the bond to soothe you. You curl into him, grasping his shirt to cling onto.

“How could Lucien do such a thing…”

Lucien huffs before stalking off, muttering to himself about how he spends his free time in Autumn for you just to be disrespected for doing what you wanted him to.

You cry in his arms for a while, your sobs turning into hiccups. Eris places a hand on your bump, smoothing his thumb over it, applying a light heat so your babe knows who’s there.

“I think I scared Lucien away,” you finally say, voice shaky.

“Lucien is not so easily shaken. I’ve been trying for centuries to make him hate me, but my attempts are always unsuccessful.”

You smile, your sniffles the only sound for a few moments.

“If you really want Lucien to hate you, have him convicted for the murder of a spider.”

Eris’s eyes crinkle in amusement, “he would have a lot to say about that, I’m sure.”

“There aren’t many topics that he doesn’t have a lot to say on,” you smirk.

Eris stands up, his vest before extending a hand to you. You accept it, and he helps pull you up.

“I think it’d be funny if we told him we’re naming the babe Lulu,” you say, curling underneath Eris’s arm.

“I think he’d be more crushed to find out we aren’t.”

“That’s what’s funny about it.”

“Wicked, wicked female you are,” he croons, leading the two of you through the hall of the Forest House.

#eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction

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l1tw1ck · 11 months

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Because of a Party

bottom!ftm!tasm!Peter Parker x top!masc reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,843 🕷️

↳ [REQUEST] | [No AFAB Language Version]

CW: Dub-Con (Dry Humping), Drunkenness, Blowjob, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Biting, Marking

Peter and Gwen have been friends for a few years and most people think Peter’s in love with her. But in reality, he's in love with you. You don't talk to him much, you have your own group of friends and he's a year older so you never even considered becoming his friend. Peter's been content with just watching you from afar since he’s convinced he has no chance with you. He figured nothing would happen and you’d just be an old crush in a few years.

All that changed when Gwen heard you were going to a party. She asked if Peter could come with you because he spends all his time studying and working. You figured you should get along better with who you think is going to be your sister’s future boyfriend so you agreed.

Now you're at your friend’s house and Peter drank way too much in an attempt to ease up and enjoy the party. You didn't know until it was too late and at this point you're too drunk to bring him home so you ask your friend for help. He gives you the key to one of the guest bedrooms so he can sober up.

You drop Peter onto the bed and sit down next to him. He shimmies out of his uncomfortable jeans, leaving him in just his underwear. Peter mumbles your name and pulls you onto your back to make you lie down with him. You turn your body to look at him, your faces too close together for both of your comforts. You look into his eyes and wait for him to speak but instead of talking, he goes in for a kiss. You’re not sure why, but you actually reciprocate the kiss. Peter has no idea what he's doing but you can't tell, and even if you could you're too drunk to care. He pulls your pants down just enough to grope your bulge and get you hard. He moves his hand away and wraps his leg around yours, adjusting himself so that his pussy is right against your boner. He starts to desperately rub his cunt against you, humping you at an unnaturally fast pace.

You pull away from the kiss. “Peter..”

“[Name]–” He gasps. “Fuck- mmh~” He throws his head back. He moves like he's never touched himself before, it's clear that he's enjoying himself. He whimpers as he feels his orgasm quickly approaching. “yes! yes!”

You let him bring himself to his completion, watching as he comes from humping you. He looks so irresistible like this. You gulp, trying to hold back all the urges you have right now.

Peter calms down and lies on his back. Before you can even speak he passes out, leaving you to take care of your boner by yourself. You sigh. At least this won't be the last time you see him.

Your family’s flying to England to visit Gwen’s new choice of college. She decided New York wasn't giving her what she needed so she applied and got a full scholarship. She’s moving in the summer but your parents wanted to help her find a new place. Your brothers wanted to come along too. You stayed back because you wanted to talk to Peter about the party. You’ve seen him a few times but you never had the chance to get him alone but now's the perfect time. It's especially perfect if that conversation leads to something more.

You invited him over under the guise of needing help with science homework, since you assume that he's forgotten all about the party.

Your original plan was to have a civil conversation but now that he's right in front of you, you don't know what to say. You bring him to your room, planning to wait for a better moment to talk about it.

“Do you remember anything that happened during the party? My memory kind of stopped at some point and I woke up with a splitting headache.”

You turn around. “You don't remember?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Anything?” You step closer to him. He shakes his head again. “You were all over me at the party.”

His eyes widen. What did he do?

You lean into his ear. “You were rubbing yourself on my cock and acting like a desperate whore. You didn't even let me come.” You chuckle at the last part.

His cheeks are even redder than before. The visual you just gave him is setting him on fire. Was he clothed? Or did he rub his bare cunt on you? The thought is driving him insane.

“You’ll make it up to me though, right?”

Peter nods. He can't even begin to describe how he feels, he might just explode.

“Get on your knees.” You order. He quickly sinks down to the floor and pulls your pants down. “That's a good boy.” You praise him. He's surprised at how much his body reacted to hearing that, he's already soaking wet. He slowly tugs on the waistband of your underwear, almost scared to see what's underneath. He looks up at you then back at your bulge before impulsively shoving your boxers down.

“shit..” He gasps. You're definitely well endowed. He holds it in his hand and gently licks the tip. He wraps his lips around your girth and slides his mouth down almost to the hilt. He moves backwards and forwards, sucking your cock feverishly. He doesn't have any experience but he's determined to make you feel good. Even though he's not experienced, it feels amazing. Just seeing him and his eagerness is enough for you. He looks adorable doing it.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well, baby.” You murmur, running your hands through his hair. Peter blushes and looks up at you, shivering when he sees your expression. He closes his eyes and speeds up his movements. He can't believe that he's in this situation. He’s dreamt and fantasized about being with you for years and now it's finally a reality. He thanks his drunken self for getting you interested in him. “Peter-” You breathe out.

He pulls away from you and jerks you off. “Mmh?” He looks up at you.

“‘M gonna come-” You warn. His eyes widen and he quickly goes back to sucking you off. He wants to swallow it. Your peak comes even faster when you realize his intentions. Peter swallows your cum happily, enjoying your taste. He pulls away and looks at you with a small smile. God he’s so cute.

You help him stand up and bring him to his bed. “Is this your first time?” You ask, taking your shirt off. Peter nods, taking his clothes off too. “I’ll be gentle.” You promise.

“You don't have to be.” He smiles. “Be as rough as you want. I can take it.” The room starts to get hotter.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk, running two fingers down his cunt before slowly pushing them inside of him. “I think you overestimate yourself.”

“I disagree.” He grabs your wrist and pushes your fingers in all the way, a soft moan leaving his lips. “I think it's the other way around.”

“Really now?” You move closer to his face. “Why don't we find out?” You angle your fingers a certain way, hitting his g spot exactly and causing him to moan. Before Peter can get another word out, you hit it again. And again, and again. You give him a break and move your face in between his legs. Your tongue against his clit runs a shiver up his spine. His eyes widen when your tongue enters him. He knew it’d feel good but not this good!

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Oh- [Name]~!” He throws his head back and lifts his hips. “Li- like that! Oh my God–”

Out of embarrassment, Peter grabs a pillow and brings it to his face. You’d like to hear him but you don't want to force anything out of him. He practically screams into the pillow. He feels like he's floating. He needs more. More. More. More! More! Yes! Peter feels his entire body react to the feeling of your tongue against his pleasure spot. Slick suddenly gushes out of him like he had a secret water gun in between his legs. He’s never had an orgasm this powerful before. He wants to feel it again.

You pull away from him and wipe your face. “You really liked that, huh?”

Peter moves the pillow away and nods. “I loved it.”

You hold your aching cock, pre cum dribbling out of it steadily. He can see how horny and desperate you are, he has a good estimate of how rough you're gonna be and he's so fucking ready.

“You don't have any plans for tomorrow, do you?” You ask, sliding a condom on.

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good. Because I don't think you’ll be able to go anywhere once I’m done with you.” You ease yourself inside him. You grab his legs and fold him in half. “Ready?”

“Fuck yes– AH~!” He moans loudly as you ram into him like there's no tomorrow. He doesn't even consider the fact that your neighbors can most definitely hear him and you're enjoying this too much to silence him. He looks down at his cunt, loving the way your cock slides in and out of it, then up at you.

“You feel so good, Peter.” You praise him in between breaths, leaning in to kiss his neck and make hickeys. He moves to expose more of his neck to you, encouraging you to continue. You stop sucking his neck and Peter can hear your heavy breathing even more clearly. He doesn't know why but he loves it.

“Bi- bite me~” He places his hand on your head and urges you to do it. It doesn't take you any convincing, you sink your teeth into his neck, almost deep enough to draw blood but not quite. He lets out a loud, breathy moan and comes. You slow down your thrusts, taking in the feeling of his pussy convulsing around you. “Hah– keep- keep going..”

You pull out, making him whine, and flip him onto his stomach. You raise his ass and slide back into him. You grip his waist and roughly fuck into him. Peter rolls his eyes back, his moans muffled by the pillow. He feels like he’s on cloud nine. He can barely think properly. You lean forward and graze your teeth against his neck. Peter’s breath hitches in response. You bite him again, his pussy squeezing you tight. You create a plethora of hickeys and bite marks all over his back, leaving the two of you with something to admire in the morning. “Gonna come..” You moan, slowing down. You thrust into him a few more times before stopping and filling up the condom with your spend.

You pull out and take off the condom, throwing it in the trash. Peter looks at you, his face flushed. “Felt so good..” He smiles.

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aemondsquill · 11 months

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Forgive Me, My Lady, For I Have Sinned

Aemond Targaryen × Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Aemond is mean to his wife. Groveling ensues.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, terrible smut, oral (f receiving), Aemond is a rascal, slight mean!aemond, unedited we die like men A/N: heyyyy pookies thank you for being so patient! This is mostly just me practicing how to write smut since im not super familiar with it so just lmk what yall think

It was rare for Aemond to be absent from your shared chambers. Ever since your betrothal, the two of you would sneak through the winding halls of the Red Keep in search of each other’s warmth. It was scandalous, of course, but the Prince simply could not quell his growing passion for you, his lovely little woman. At first, he dreaded the thought of marriage—seeing how his mother was often discarded in favor of a dead woman by his ever-decaying father. It wasn’t until his lone violet eye landed upon your sweet face at the feast celebrating the announcement of your impending nuptials did Aemond feel a surge of protectiveness over you. He couldn’t help the flush of shyness that reddened his cheeks when you shared a sweet smile with him.

The several moons into your marriage had been utterly blissful. Aemond was attentive, often finding himself bending to your every command. In private, he was affectionate; always finding some way to hold or touch your warm skin or sharing tender kisses that left you both breathless and yearning for more. He often threatened lords who would boldly stare at your figure from afar, but he shielded his cruelty from you, not wanting to frighten his little wife. Nearly every night Aemond found himself nestled between your supple thighs, showing you just how much he worshipped you—licking and nuzzling your clit with his aquiline nose, hardened from the sweet moans and whimpers that fell from your lips. The thought of you being only his to please and breed made him feel nearly rabid from arousal—like a dragon with the scent of blood.

Married life seemed to agree with Aemond.

With war looming on the horizon, Aemond felt the increasing pressure beginning to chip away at his sanity. Long, torturous hours were spent locked away in the Small Council chambers and away from your cunt. This particular evening, Aemond was battling a searing ache behind his scarred socket, allowing him to only hear bits and pieces of various war tactics they could deploy against the Blacks. If he had to hear Tyland Lannister bitch about the dwindling funds that come with the cost of war he was going to smash his head in until his pretty golden locks are stained red.

With delicate fingers, Aemond applies pressure to his brow, desperate for any amount of relief.

His savior came in the unlikely form of his brother, the rightful King Aegon II.

“This meeting is adjourned, for fuck’s sake my cups have run dry and I’m in need of a whore.” Aemond rolled his eye at his brother’s vulgarity, but was thankful none-the-less. The only thing he wanted was to crawl into his feather bed and feel his little wife’s warmth, but alas, only he could be so unlucky. The ending of this meeting only means that he has to return to his study and attend to more sensitive matters of the Crown, but he was one step closer to being with his wife.

The fire flickering in the hearth cast long shadows in his study, where he sat behind a large desk made of darkened wood. Countless letters adorned with ornate wax seals littered and ink stained his pale fingers as he continued a correspondence with whatever small house that needed placating, the throbbing in his temples only increasing tenfold.

Sleep seemed to evade you with the absence of your husband, the empty bed next to you growing cold from his desertion. The chill from the flagstones caused you to jolt as you stood up from your bed. You plucked your dark blue silken robe from the plush settee and pulled it onto your frame, tying it at the waist. Determined to catch at least a glimpse of your husband, you opened the heavy oaken door of your chamber and began your search.

The Small Council chamber and library were both empty. Your heart sank a little in disappointment when the thought of giving up crossed your mind.

That was until you spied a glowing light coming from beneath the door to his study. Giddiness tickled the inside of your chest as you entered through the portal and found your dearest Aemond seated behind his unkempt desk.

His eyepatch lay discarded amongst the piles of parchments and his long, elegant hair tussled from his growing frustration, yet he remained just as beautiful as ever. The site nearly steals the breath from your chest.

He did not look up, seemingly deep in thought.

“Husband? Are you nearly finished? I haven’t seen you since we broke our fast and I miss you dearly.” He looked up at the sound of his little wife and sighed heavily before shaking his head tiredly. “Perhaps you would benefit from a bit of rest?”

The inquiry was innocent enough, but Aemond could no longer bite his tongue as the last bit of his withering patience was fractured. He stood suddenly, looking down at you grasped your jaw in a firm grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to startle you.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he sneered, “unlike you, I have more responsibilities than just being a broodmare, so I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from parading yourself around like a common whore and return to my chambers.”

The cruelty he tried so hard to protect you from spilled from his lips so easily. Your eyes watered as you gasped at his words.

“You do not mean that, my love” you whimpered, tears cascading down your cheeks. You gently wrapped your fingers around his wrist, urging him to release you.

He only pulled you closer so he could growl into your ear, “do you wish to tempt the entirety of the Keep, hm? Should I allow every knight to have their turn with you? Would that sate your desires, wife?” His words dripped with a venom he had never used with you before.

You felt your heart crack painfully as you looked up at him with wide doe-like eyes that shined with unshed tears.

The sight of your anguish seemed to pull him out of the rage that had blinded him so and he released you suddenly. Guilt swarmed his veins and he felt sick that he had been the cause of your pain.

You scrambled away from him, holding a hand over your lips to stifle your cries.

Aemond wished for Vhagar to devour him where he stood. Tears of frustration burned his eye.

You stumbled through the halls, blindly searching for your chambers.

Once in the safety of your room, you collapsed on the settee, sobs wracking your body.

Your chambers were cold and lonely when you were finally lulled into a dreamless sleep.

You sent your handmaids away after they dressed you in a scarlet gown the next morning. You didn’t have to stomach to break your fast as the words from last night seared themselves into your memory. The ache that bloomed behind your breast had yet to subside. Your eyes were red and tender to the touch.

The words from your favorite tome seemed to melt together and you sighed before placing it at your side, content with just watching the flames dance against the stone hearth.

The heavy door to your chamber creaked open. Annoyance ebbed inside you.

“I already told you I do not wish to break my fast,” turning around you were met Aemond looming in the doorway. His eye was wide and shimmered with emotion.

No words were said as he approached cautiously, as if afraid of your wrath.

You only looked down at your hands, which were nervously twisting in your lap.

The proud Dragon Prince of the Seven Kingdoms fell to his knees, resting his head against your thighs. You couldn’t help but tremble in his presence, whether from fear that he would lash out again or from the desire you still had for him.

His warm hands enveloped yours as he pressed delicate kisses to your fingers, the tenderness causing your chest throb in sadness.

After a moment, he lifted his head and met your watery gaze with his own. Slowly, his fingers slipped around your ankle before gently wandering up your calf, lifting the ornate hem of your dress in the process.

Your breath caught in your throat as he reached your knee. You placed your hand on his suddenly, intending to stop him from advancing, but you helplessly felt yourself guide him closer to where you needed him.

Once your thighs were adequately exposed, he pressed spongy kisses to the soft flesh. You could feel the heat of arousal weigh heavily in your lower belly, your breathing coming out as soft pants.

Aemond intently watched your face contort in need as his kisses and suckling traveled towards your slickened cunt.

His leather-clad arms circled around your hips and pulled you closer towards to edge.

He licked a fat stripe against your dripping cunt and you gasped, fingers weaving through his silver locks.

Aemond moaned at your sweet taste, the vibration nearly overwhelming your little pearl. His tongue was soft against you, almost gentle as he continued to devour you.

Your arousal leaked onto the cushions below you as your mouth fell open, his lips circled tightly over your pearl, suckling gently.

Two slender fingers prodded against your drenched hole before fulling sliding in. The feeling of being stuffed with Aemond’s fingers nearly sent you over the edge. His fingers stroked your walls in search of the rough patch that made you see stars.

You moaned and clenched around him as he massaged the spot in a come hither movement. You couldn’t help but grind your hips, hurdling towards your peak at an unrelenting pace. Sweat beaded at your hairline and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head at the intense pleasure only Aemond could give you.

His eye was still trained on you in awe, as if you were a goddess and he a devout follower. In a sense it was true. He would worship the ground you walked on had you commanded him to.

“Cum against my lips, little wife, let me taste you.” His voice was husky with lust and you whined as he sped up the thrusting of his fingers. Aemond’s chin shined from your arousal.

The sight of him desperately lapping against your cunt sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure rolling through you as you screamed his name.

Your vision returned as your peak began to subside, your panting slowing down. You sagged against the cushions, feeling boneless.

“Give me one more, my love,” Aemond pleaded before prodding at your pearly with the tip of his tongue.

You writhed against him, completely overstimulated.

“I-I can’t…” you whined, “ ‘s too much.”

His violet eye darkened, your pleas only spurring him on as dove back in to devour your cunt. Your moans only grew louder as you tried to push his head away, the overwhelming sensation bringing tears to your eyes.

For a moment he allowed to you catch your breath as he spoke.

“I’m going to lick your cunt until you forget the insults I cast against you in my anger. I need you to see how I wish to worship you”, he pressed a kiss against your fluttering cunt, causing you to jolt.

“My sweet wife, you did not deserve my wrath.”

He planted another kiss against your pearl.

“I kneel before you and beg your forgiveness.”

A harsh suck caused you to yelp.

His words touched you. Your gentle, sweet Aemond had returned.

He kitten-licked your pearl unit you felt the familiar coil tighten in your belly, your second peak rapidly approaching. You moaned and wept at the sensations of his lips against you, lust clouding your thoughts.

Your second peak nearly fractured your mind as white-hot bliss buzzed through your entire being, the only thing tethering you to reality was your grip on Aemond’s hair.

Aemond watched his beautiful little wife in fascination as your peak subsided.

Silence enveloped the room once more as you attempted to recover from your husband’s groveling.

Finally, clarity reached you and you were able to consider his words. While you were deep in thought, Aemond smoothed down your dress, but remained kneeling in front of you.

“I cannot find it within myself to forget the vile words you said to me. You hurt me greatly.”

Aemond’s eye widened, but he understood.

“I just need time. I love you deeply and I appreciate your apologies thus far,” you couldn’t help but smirk at your last words. Amusement sparkled in Aemond’s eye.

“Allow me to apologize once more, little wife,” his words were coated in lust. He stood and took your hand gently, before leading you to your shared bed.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #hotd imagine #hotd #smut

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tasteleeknow-remade · 2 years

Text

— sweet

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.1k

summary: you're his best friend’s little sister. he's obsessed with you, and you him. he has very good self control—until he’s forced to share a tent with you. forced proximity with corruption kink.

profanity. possessive behaviour. protected intercourse. afab!reader. forced proximity. corruption kink. pet names. oral (f. rec).

You were lucky to have a big brother that actually liked you; your best friend’s brother liked to pretend she didn’t exist. This weekend you were going camping with him and his best friend, Chan. Your best friend, Sana, was coming too. She’d developed a crush on your brother years ago. You didn’t mind, so long as she kept the swooning to a minimum. You loved your brother but if you had to hear anymore speculation about whether or not he’d be chopping firewood and if he would do it in short sleeves… you’d ban her from the trip.

“You have to help me find a way to share his tent.” She said, doing her makeup while you lounged on her bed.

“Don’t be creepy.”

“Don’t pretend like I'm the perv when you've been trying to seduce Chan any chance you get for months.”

You closed the book you were reading. “Have not.”

“Whatever, are you gonna help me or not?”

“What do you want me to do? Knock his friend out? Drag Chan’s body into the woods so you can sneak in there and stare at my brother's face all night?” She gave you a tired look.

“Luckily, it’ll be much easier than that. You’ll just have to be a bitch to me. You’ll be great at it—a real natural.”

You threw one of the pillows you were leaning against at her.

“Oh come on, you’ll get something out of it too.” She turned to you, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“You’re gonna pay me to help you fuck my brother?”

“No, i’m going to return the favour; i’ll help you fuck his best friend.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “You be a bitch to me, we have a fight, blah blah.” She grabbed her mascara, waving it around as she detailed her plan. “Then we refuse to share a tent, your brother’s very thoughtful best friend offers to swap tents with me—you fuck him, I fuck Minho. Happily ever after.”

“Why the fuck would I want you to help me fuck Chan?”

“Oh come on, can we drop the playing dumb thing. Are you helping me or not?” She turned to start applying her mascara while you considered. You actually thought they’d make a cute couple. You’d never really seen your brother with a serious girlfriend before, but it was pretty clear to you he had a soft spot for your Sana.

“Will you swear not to tell me a single fucking thing that happens in that tent?”

“Oh so you don’t wanna hear all the details about how I blow your broth-”

“Alright, not helping you.”

“Okay! I swear. Won’t mention it ever in my life. I’ll be your loyal friend forever and you can be my maid of honour at our wedding.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy in love with your hot brother.”

Your phone started vibrating on the bed next to you. “It’s Minho, shut up unless you want him to hear you.” You answered the call, jumping up to look out your friend’s bedroom window. “Yeah?”

“We’re here, you ready?”

“Yeah, be right down.” You ended the call and grabbed your bag from the end of the bed.

“They’re here? We haven’t discussed how we’re going to fight.” Sana dropped her mascara into her makeup bag then went to grab her stupidly oversized bag from the bed.

“I’ve gotta be a bitch to you right? I’m sure I can manage that. You just overreact—be a drama queen—you’ll be a natural.”

Something hit your back as you turned to leave the room. “Ow!” You turned to see a small pouch on the ground, like the one you used to carry your tampons around.

“Condoms. Be safe.” She grinned. You grabbed it, stuffing it in your bag.

“Oh my god. How much shit did you bring?” You were attempting—and failing—to cram your bag into the footrest in the backseat. One of the three seats in the back was already occupied by a pile of sleeping bags and miscellaneous crap.

“Just what we needed,” your brother replied from the driver's seat.

You grabbed a badminton racket sticking out from the pile of shit spilling over the backseat headrests, “Badminton?”

“That’s Chan’s.”

The second Minho said his name, a hand rested on the small of your back, startling you.

“Sorry, just me. Your skirt was— uh…riding up.” Chan said, his hand dropping from your back as you pulled your head from the car. You turned to face him.

“Oh, was it? Oops, thanks.”

“I was just looking for a spot for this.” He held up your friend’s very large bag, his biceps flexing. He was wearing a t-shirt; thank god for the hot weather. It was also a good sign for your friend’s firewood chopping fantasies.

“There’s no space. Sana will have to have it with her in the front.”

“I can’t, it’ll crush me,” she protested, already comfortable in the front passenger seat. She had caught up with you just as you reached the front door, throwing herself against it—refusing to move until you’d promised to let her sit in the front with Minho. “Whatever”, you’d told her. You’d learned many years ago to pick your battles wisely. Which is why you weren’t going to fight over this bag situation.

“Fine, we’ll make it fit back here.” You stepped back to let Chan attempt to cram it into the already full backseat. He leaned into the car, resting one of his knees on the seat as he tried to stuff the bag in. You watched as his t-shirt rode up his back—skin peaking out between the hem and his shorts.

“Yeah, this isn’t gonna work,” he said. You peaked over his shoulder, he’d shoved the bag as far as he could but it was still taking up the majority of the middle seat.

“She’ll just have to sit on your lap.” Sana said.

“What? No, it’ll have to go at your feet.” Chan apparently thought this was a battle worth fighting.

“It won’t fit, and I can’t sit with that on me for an hour. It’s probably heavier than her.”

You made eye contact with your friend over Chan’s shoulder—she grinned at you just as Chan turned away from her.

“I'm not sure that’s a good idea…” Chan protested, standing outside of the car now—one hand on the roof of the car.

“Oh just get the fuck in the car,” your brother grumbled. “I'm going to suffocate without the aircon on.” Apparently, he was the deciding voice because Chan gave you a quick look up and down and then lowered himself into the car. You watched as he put his seatbelt on and then placed each of his hands at his sides—looking extremely uncomfortable. Sighing, you smoothed your skirt down over your ass and lowered yourself into his lap—closing the car door behind you.

“You alright?” His mouth was so close to your ear, you could feel his breath brush against your skin as he spoke. You were fucked.

You adjusted yourself in his lip, the skin on the back of your thighs against his. “Yeah, all good.”

You couldn’t take much more of this. “How long til we’re there?” You asked Minho, shifting yourself as you spoke.

“20 minutes,” he replied, glancing into the rear view mirror. “You need a break? I can pull over. I just saw a rest stop sign.”

“Ugh, yeah. I just need to stretch my legs. Chan probably does too.”

Sana had been flirting with your brother for the past 40 minutes—and he’d let her. Which by your brother's standards may as well have been a marriage proposal. You didn’t know which you needed a break from more—Chan’s lap or their flirting. He’d grabbed your waist about 10 minutes earlier after you’d readjusted yourself one too many times. He hadn’t said anything though. In fact, he hadn’t spoken the entire trip—his hands remaining by his sides up until 10 minutes ago.

“I could use a break, yeah.” His breath tickled your ear again.

You splashed water on your face in the tiny public restroom sink as your friend spoke to you in a hushed tone. “Right, we should do it now. Just look upset as we leave the bathroom and follow my lead.”

“I want the pink top.”

“What?”

“Your pink top that I'm always complimenting you on. That’s my price.”

“I thought your price was not hearing all the hot details about how I fuck your brother tonight.”

“That still stands.”

“You’re really still gonna act like I'm not also doing you a favour?” She reached over to pick a strand of hair off your shirt. “How was it? Sitting on his lap.”

“Uncomfortable.”

“Did he get a boner?” She was smiling now, shaking her hand until the strand of hair detached itself from her fingers.

“No.”

“You sure? You know he’s obsessed with you? Minho told me.”

“No he didn’t.”

“He did so—the weekend we had the Harry Potter marathon. He said he didn’t mind if you two hooked up but Chan is apparently stressed the fuck out about it. He got all broody when Minho confronted him. Apparently he thinks you’re too innocent for him.”

When you said nothing your friend smiled and undid a button on your polo shirt. “You got this.” She said, before turning and marching out of the bathroom. You looked down at your cleavage peeking out the top of your shirt then looked in the dirty mirror, “I’ve got this.” You followed your friend.

“I can’t believe you! You’re being a bitch.” She spun around when you were in earshot of the two men leaning against the car. Right, the fight.

“Oh stop being dramatic for once in your life.”

“Dramatic?” She took a few steps towards you—her back to the car—and poked you in the chest, winking at you as she did. “I’ll show you dramatic.”

“Hey! What’s going on?” Chan was walking towards you both.

“She’s being a total fucking bitch! I’m not sharing a tent with her.” Your friend marched past him towards your brother.

“What?” Chan reached where you were standing. “What happened?”

“She’s being dramatic, I didn’t do anything.” You took a step towards him and watched his eyes drop to your cleavage before snapping back to your face.

“Alright, well just… let’s just go. We have to get there before it gets dark.” He held his hand out towards the car, prompting you to take the lead. Your brother was still learning against the driver's door.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just a stupid fight. It’s fine.” You pulled the back door open and your brother turned to do the same. “If you say so,” he muttered.

When Chan was climbing into the backseat you undid one more button before climbing in after him, making no attempt to ensure your skirt was tucked under your ass as you did. You pushed yourself back against him, your ass directly over his crotch this time.

“You all good back there?” Your brother asked as he started the car.

“Yeah, I'm comfortable.” You answered, catching the corner of your friend's mouth curve up.

Chan’s hand’s went straight to your waist. “You sure?”

“Mm.” You leaned your head back against his shoulder, giving him a clear view down your shirt. “Kinda tired though.”

He cleared his throat, “Only 20 minutes left, we can set up the tents straight away.” He reassured you, then louder he asked your brother. “20 minutes right?”

“Yeah, more like 30 actually.”

“30.” Chan repeated, hands dropping from your waist.

“I’m not too heavy am I?” you asked.

“No, I just– No, you’re fine.”

“Fine?”

“Perfect. You’re perfect.”

Chan had sat dead still until you’d climbed out of the car at the campsite, hands remaining at his side. Sana had kept her act up, refusing to talk to you and repeating her refusal to share a tent with you. No one had suggested swapping yet and you’d helped your brother set up one of the tents while the other two worked on the other. The guys had gone to grab some stuff from the car while you and Sana set up the site.

“We might have to revert to my plan,” you said, both of you on speaking terms again as long as the men were out of earshot.

“Your plan?” Your friend asked, unfolding one of the camping chairs.

“Knocking Chan out and dragging him into the woods.”

She sighed. “They’ll suggest swapping. If Minho doesn’t, Chan will. I saw his face the last 10 minutes before we arrived; he looked like he was in physical pain.”

“Maybe he was. It probably hurt having me on his lap for an hour.”

“I noticed you undid another button.” Your friend gave you a knowing look.

“Shut up.”

She laughed, then looked past your shoulder. “Oh fuck, they’re coming back. Look upset.”

“If this works, I'm using it in my speech at your wedding.”

“Now I've got you talking about our wedding.”

“I’ll swap with you,” Minho suggested, much to your friends' chagrin.

“No offence, but I'm not sharing a tent with Chan.” Your friend crossed her arms across her stomach. “I don’t know you well enough for that…sorry.”

“Right well, me and you then.” Minho pointed between himself and Sana.

“Alright,” she sounded suitably neutral about it.

“Wait-” Chan sat forward in the camping chair.

“It’s okay,” You touched his arm, reaching over from where you were sitting next to him. “Really. I don’t mind.”

His eyes flicked between yours a few times and then he leant back and returned his can to his lips. You watched his throat as he swallowed.

“I’m going for a walk.” You stood up.

“Alone? It’s getting dark,” Minho said. He was leaning over the fire, turning the meat he was cooking.

“I won’t be long.”

“I’ll come.” Chan stood from his chair, dropping his empty can into the plastic bag beside him.

“I was just going to go down and have a look at the beach.” You watched as he grabbed a black cap from his bag, smoothing his hair back and putting it on backwards—keeping the hair off his forehead. He’d grown it out a little recently. It flopped over his forehead in curls. You often had to resist the urge to brush it out of his eyes.

“Sweet, I wanted to take a look anyway.” He looked up, catching you watching him. You turned and marched quickly towards the dirt track that led to the beach.

“Do you think I'm pretty?” You’d been sitting silently on the beach, watching the sun go down over the horizon.

Chan’s hand froze where he’d been drawing patterns in the sand. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Minho’s always gotten so much attention from girls… and then there’s me…” While your brother had never been in a serious relationship, he’d had plenty of options. In high school you’d known multiple girls who had openly asked you about him—if he was single.

“You… you really shouldn’t be talking to me about this.”

“Why?”

“You’re…I mean you’re… my best friend’s little sister. I can’t talk about this with you.” He looked out over the orange horizon. “We should get back.” He stood, holding his hand out for you. “The food’s probably getting cold.”

“I do think you’re pretty.” Chan's voice broke the heavy silence in the tent. Your friend had helped Minho with the dishes and then promptly put on a show of being exhausted and disappearing into the tent—Minho following shortly after. You were definitely going to be teasing them about this at their wedding.

“You do?” You didn’t move as you spoke, keeping your gaze fixed to the roof of the tent.

“Of course I do. I shouldn’t…at least, I shouldn’t be telling you I do.”

“I won’t tell.” You rolled onto your side, watching him stare at the roof—hands supporting his head. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, the sides open down to his last rib. “It’s my brother, isn't it? He’s why you think you shouldn't tell me.”

“It’s not just that.” You watch his chest rise and fall, waiting for him to continue. “You’re too… sweet. You aren’t for me.”

You sat up before speaking, “You don’t want me?”

His hands moved from behind his head to cover his face. He groaned. “Fuck. Stop doing this to me… please.”

“Doing what?”

He sat up abruptly. “This.” He gestured broadly. “All of it. Looking like that, speaking to me like that. I can’t have you, you aren’t mine. I can’t have you. Stop… making it harder for me.”

“You can.” You moved your hand to his arm slowly, as if he might spook. “I want to be yours.” You crawled into his lap, his eyes locked onto yours. “Please.” He reached up and touched your lips with his thumb, finger tucked under your chin.

“You’re torturing me,” he whispered.

“Please,” you repeated. His thumb pushed between your lips, his eyes fixed on them. Pulling his thumb from your mouth he traced down your neck with his fingers, stopping at the neck of your t-shirt. You brought your lips to his softly, barely touching. “Please,” you repeated again.

Before you could process what was happening his hands were holding your head and he was pressing his mouth into yours desperately. “Shouldn’t,” he muttered into your mouth, “I can't do this.” He wrapped his arms around you and laid you down onto his sleeping bag, mouth remaining attached to yours. “Shouldn’t…” He kept muttering to himself until you felt him start to grind himself into you, “Too sweet… aren’t you… too sweet for me… fuck… have to stop…” He made no move to stop, and when you reached down to pull his shirt over his head, he let you—attacking your mouth again as soon as he was free. “This okay?” Kiss. “Tell me to stop.” Kiss. “Should stop.”

“Don’t. Please.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trapping him against you.

“You have to be quiet, hm? Stay nice and quiet for me, sweetheart.” He grabbed at the hem of your oversized t-shirt, pulling it up over your bare breasts. “Fuck.” He covered each of your tits with his hands. “Fuck, can’t do this.” He moved his mouth to lick your skin between each breast, and then he moved to sucking on each nipple. “Sweet… knew you were sweet.” He pulled his mouth away and started massaging your breasts as he was speaking, “Saw these down your shirt while you were on my lap. Did you know? I shouldn’t have looked… couldn’t help it…”

“Channie… please…”

“Shhh.. shhh.. i’ve got you… don’t want the others to hear us do we? Hm?” He reached into your underwear, fingers moving through your folds. “Bet you’re sweet down here too…” He moved down your body and pulled your shorts down your legs slowly—kissing the skin on your thighs as he went. “Can I have a taste? Want to taste you… wanted to taste you for years…”

“I want you inside…” You pulled at his hair.

“Can’t. No condom.” He said, sounding distracted as he pulled your shorts off your legs.

“I have some.”

He snapped his eyes to yours. “You… you brought condoms?”

“I-I wasn’t going too. I just thought-” He crawled up your body and leaned over you to press his lips to your neck. “Naughty girl,” he whispered. “You gonna let me fuck you? Let me have you?”

“My bag… they… they’re in my bag.”

“Fuck… I shouldn’t…” He lifted his head to look into your eyes. You lifted your arm to brush the hair away from his eyes and lifted your head so you could kiss his lips softly. “I’m going to hell.” He muttered, then crawled over to your bag. “Where are they?”

“In a small red pouch, in the pocket on the side.” You watched him dig through the bag.

He crawled back over to you, red pouch in his hand. “Tell me to stop now. We can stop now. I can stop.”

“No.” You sat up and pulled your shirt over your head then you sat back on your ass so you could wiggle your underwear down before pulling them off your legs and throwing them to the side. Chan was silent. You turned yourself so he was between your legs and watched his face as you slowly parted your knees. His eyes fixed themselves on your cunt. You reached down and stroked your finger through your folds.

He fell forward onto his elbows, breath tickling you as he spoke, “pretty…” he kissed your cunt, “little…,” another kiss, “pussy… so sweet…” he dragged his tongue through your folds—you whined. His hand covered your mouth, “Shhhh…. sweetheart… stay nice and quiet for me. Gonna fuck you, promise—just need to taste you first.” You moaned into his palm as he made out with your cunt, the slurping sounds he was making turning your cheeks pink. Thank God the tents weren't directly next to each other. It would be a miracle if the other two hadn’t heard anything even from the distance they were at. You were squirming and grabbing at his hair, struggling to stay quiet. He pulled his head up—releasing your mouth so you could answer him when he spoke, “You want me to fuck you? Tell me.”

“I-I want you… to fuck me, please.”

“Yeah?” He grabbed the small red pouch and opened it, “Watch me put this on, sweetheart.” Pulling a single wrapped condom out of the pouch, he tore it open—then looking up to see you still on your back, he prompted you again. “Come on, watch me.” He was kneeling—you propped yourself up on your elbows so you could see him. “Look at my cock. See how it’s all hard for you, hm?” You watched him stroke himself. “Look at what you’ve done to me.” He rolled the condom down himself. “Can you be quiet for me? Or do I need to cover your mouth again?” He began rubbing the tip of his cock over your cunt, eyes fixed on where he was preparing to enter you.

“I can be quiet.”

“Good girl.” He pushed into you, his body falling over yours as he bottomed out. “Fuck… thought about this all day… thought about pushing your little panties aside and fucking my cock into you while you sat on my lap.” He sat back on his heels so he could watch where you were joined—resting his palm on your lower stomach. “I’m inside you, sweetheart. Your little pussy feels so good around me, just like I knew it would.”

“Were you really thinking that in the car?”

He looked up to your face then slowly pulled himself out to the tip and entered you again. You gripped his hand where it was resting on your stomach. “I did. Does it make you feel naughty? Sitting on my lap like that when I was thinking such bad things…” He started fucking into you, hard and fast enough that your tits bounced with each thrust. “Fuck, look at your pretty tits. I’m going to fucking hell. I’m fucked.” He covered your body with his again, his face hovering over yours. You watched the chain around his neck swing as he moved. “I can’t have you just once… you’re mine now, right? Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours… Chan… i’m-”

“Mine.” His elbows framed your head, trapping you beneath him. He dropped his mouth to yours, grinding himself into you. “So sweet,” he murmured into your mouth, “my sweetheart, hm?” He reached down to your clit, “Need you to milk my cock, sweetness… cum around my cock… wanna feel you clench around me… go on….” you covered your mouth with your own hands as you came, attempting to stifle the sound. He groaned, “Fuck, that’s it.” He sat back on his heels again and gripped your hips, fucking himself into you—his eyes fixed on your tits. “Gonna keep you… have to keep you now, sweetheart…” He closed his eyes as he came, his hips stuttering into you as he attempted to draw it out.

You reached down to grab one of his hands as he pulled himself out of you, “Did you mean it?” you asked, breathing still erratic. He dropped down beside you, staring up at the roof again. You listened to him pant as he caught his breath, then he spoke, “Yeah, I'm keeping you.”

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #x reader

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beautifulfurywonderland · 13 days

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The ladder way to enter the void

In the introduction, my English is bad, so I'm sorry. Also, here I am sharing the methods that I will do as well, and I hope that this will help me enter the void or enter anyone. As I said before, I do not want this to be a selfish society that only offers methods and if one enters... Someone, the void, boom, I never heard from him again except the story of his success, and then he disappears. No, I am here. I want this place to be a phrase that when someone succeeds, everyone succeeds.

We all need some help, whether it's that someone has offered a way or just wants to put you immediately into the void. As I said before, it has never been proven that no one can enter the void. If you ask someone who has already entered the void and you want them to enter you, you just hear him say no, you. You control your reality and I can't, do it yourself and why do you say that? A few days ago, you were on the same journey as us, struggling like us, and you will be happy if someone volunteers and says, “I entered the void,” and I will say that you also enter as well, and you will be very grateful to him!!

There are many people who enter the void for their friends and brothers, but when it is your turn, they cannot do that. Say you do not want to, not you cannot!!

Sorry, I took a long time. Anyway, the ladder method that Neville invented. I hope I wrote his name correctly.

It is that before sleeping, you keep imagining that you are climbing a ladder until you fall asleep, and the next day you say that you are not climbing a ladder

And you'll see that the next day or three you're climbing the ladder. It's kind of like reverse psychology

I tried it first on a ladder, not in a vacuum, to make sure it worked. I imagined myself climbing an old wooden ladder full of nails, and the next day we went to my relatives and I found that ladder there!! The same as you imagined, and just for your information, it does not necessarily have to be the same as the ladder you imagine

Now apply the same thing to the void and imagine that you are entering the void as you wish for, I don’t know, ten seconds or less, and repeat what you imagined over and over again until you fall asleep.

And the next day, say that you do not enter the void, and we will see what happens. I will also apply this method today, so let us wish each other success.💙

As I said before, if I succeed, you will also succeed. I did not leave anyone behind, and neither will you. Let us be of help to each other

And yes, if you can enter the void in this way, do not forget to make sure that I also enter, otherwise I will appear in your nightmares🙂🔪

#reality shifting #anime shifting #Void and Reality shift #void #state #shiftblr #reality shift

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omgrachwrites · 4 months

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Date Night - Carmy Berzatto

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You and Carmy go on your first date.

Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this, please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

part two

Natalie glanced at you as you walked into the living room to show off your outfit, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Her facial expression was the same as you twirled in front of her, showing her the outfit from all angles.

“What do you think?” you asked as you smoothed your hands down your dress.

Nat laughed, “sweetie, you look beautiful.”

You pouted at her, “you’ve said that about every single outfit I’ve chosen,” you look down at the dress.

She rolled her eyes with a smile, “because it’s true, you’re beautiful. You could wear a bin bag and Carmy would still be crazy about you.”

You smiled as you sat next to her, your date with her brother wasn’t until later on tonight but you were nervous. You really wanted this to go well and you didn’t want to do anything that would screw this up.

“I’m nervous, Nat,” you admitted and she smiled at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Carmy really likes you, Y/N,” she sighed as her phone buzzed and she checked it, “damn, I gotta go, they need me at the restaurant. Good luck tonight, you’ll do great,” she smiled and pulled you into a hug.

All day you lounged around, doing nothing, last night you’d had the shower where you scrubbed and shaved everything and everywhere. You weren’t expecting anything to happen, not on the first date – Carmy would be too shy to make a move – but you just wanted to be prepared. Finally, it was time for you to get ready, you curled your hair and applied your makeup light and pretty, with the help of a large glass of wine.

When Carmy knocked on your door, you slipped your heels on and grabbed your bag before pulling open the door. Your throat went dry as you looked up at him. He looked so gorgeous, he was wearing a tight white button down shirt that accentuated his muscles and over the top he was wearing a black suit jacket. He was holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. His cheeks were flushed as his eyes drank in the sight of you.

He smiled as he ran a hand through his curls, “you look amazing.”

“Thanks Carm, so do you.”

The redness on his cheeks only deepened as he held out the flowers, “these are for you.”

You smiled as you took the flowers, “they’re beautiful, come in and I’ll put them in some water,” you let him in as you arranged the flowers in a vase, “you want a drink?” you glanced over your shoulder.

He shook his head as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “nah, don’t want to miss the reservation.”

You smiled as you finished arranging the flowers and took his hand, “then let’s go,” you flushed as he linked your fingers together.

The restaurant was just an uber ride away and Carmy held your hand as he helped you out of the car. The restaurant looked beautiful – and fancy – you felt a little out of place. Carmy must have noticed because he squeezed your hand and you looked over at him.

“You okay?”

You smiled as you leaned over and kissed his cheek, “yeah, as long as I can take you to my favourite dive bar afterwards.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he grinned.

At first, you thought it was going to be awkward but as you were sat at the best seat in the house the both of you launched into conversation just as easily as you always did.

“How’s the restaurant?” you asked as you took a swallow of wine.

Carmy rolled his eyes with a quick laugh, “everyone’s at each other’s throats but they seem to be working together well enough. How’s the pasta?” he grinned with a twinkle in his gorgeous eyes.

“It’s good,” you nod as you eat a forkful, “but your pasta is my favourite.”

He grinned as he nudged his leg against yours, “you’re my favourite.”

For dessert the both of you shared a dish of lemon sorbet with a couple of vodka shots poured into the bottom. By the time you reluctantly let Carmy pay the bill – he wouldn’t let you split it – the both of you were pretty buzzed as you stumbled to the bar. The bar was a typical dive, the floor was sticky and it stank of beer but you felt comfortable, and you could tell that Carmy was too.

He thanked you as you handed him a pint of beer and he nodded over at the pool table, “you wanna play?”

“I’m rubbish at pool, I can barely hold a pool cue,” you laughed.

“C’mon, I’ll show you,” those big blue eyes talked you into it and you relented as he led you over to the pool table.

He set up the table and you couldn’t stop watching as his tattooed fingers rearranged the balls and he gave you a lazy, lopsided grin, “you wanna break? I’ll show you how.”

You smiled, “sure.”

Butterflies shot through your stomach as he took your hands in his, he stood behind you and showed you how to properly hold the pool cue. He leaned over you, just like they did in the movies and with Carmy’s help you managed to break.

“There you go,” he whispered in your ear and tingles shot up your spine as he kissed your cheek.

It was hard to keep up the pretence and you slipped up when you pocketed a ball. Carmy stood there staring at you with his mouth open.

“You lied! You’re hustling me!”

You laughed at his accusation, “fine, I’m not as bad as pool as I made out to be. And hustling is when you do it for money.”

He rolled his eyes with a grin, “you owe me.”

You ended up winning the game of pool and Carmy looked at you with a look of mock disappointment on his face as he shook his head, “I am so disappointed, that you won by cheating.”

You giggled, “you’re so dramatic. How’s this, I’ll let you pick your consolation prize?”

Carmy grinned as he pulled you closer by your waist and kissed you deeply, you were in shock and you hesitated for a split second before you kissed him back. You placed your hands on his firm chest as you pulled away just a little, “wow that’s funny, that’s exactly what I was gonna pick for my winning prize.”

He smirked as he cupped your cheek, “what an amazing coincidence,” he chuckled as he wrapped a hand in your hair and kissed you again, this time he snuck his tongue into your mouth. That’s how you spent the rest of the night, playing pool and making out.

He walked you up to your apartment, his fingers laced through yours, “I had a really good time tonight, Carm.”

“Me too, even if you did cheat at pool.”

You laughed, “I did not cheat!” you got your keys out of your bag and you looked at Carmy, “you want to come in?”

Carmy smiled but shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N, I’d end up doing something we’re not ready for,” he chuckled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “but I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll see you soon,” you nod and he leaned in to give you another breath taking kiss that made you feel like you were a teenager all over again.

#carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #reader insert #carmy x you #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #fluff #carmy fluff

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reidslovely · 9 months

Note

Something about helping frat!blonde! Peter touch up his roots. Like he calls you and reader must think its for hooking up purposes - then he surprises her w “can you. uh..retouchmyrootsplease” and she’s like “??? 🤨wat” and you just go over to his place and spend time with him, washing his hairr, he making eye contact with reader through the mirror, etc. But he’s still stubborn about his feelings so he’s like “this was a one time thing only don’t let it get to ya head”

sorry if this was jumbled I just had this in my head for a while now

Yes this idea is so so so so so cute. I have written something vaguely similar before but I love it so much I don't care to write it again

please reblog or comment in place of liking/hearting this post 🫶🏼

“Pete?” You questioned picking up your phone, your eyes locked on the clock that read 4:00pm. “It’s far too early for a booty call..what’s up pretty?”

“Ya flatter bashful.” His chesty laugh could be heard on the other end of the phone. It sent your heart doubling in speed, your cheek pressed lovingly into your shoulder.

“You still with me bashful? I need you to do me a favor.”

“So this is a hookup call..you only ask me that if-” You're cut off by him rushing out a string of words. None of which you caught. “Pete..baby. I need you to breathe and say that again.” You laughed softly, already gathering your stuff up to head over to the Theta Tau. Regardless if this was a hookup situation or not you were tired of your homework and Peter always seems to take any type of stress away.

“Can you uh..” There's an awkward cough and sigh. “Retouchmyrootsplease?”

The questions still came out as one word this time around but at least you actually caught what he was saying.

“Sure, Pete.” You tried not to laugh. “Do you have what you need or do we need to run by Sally?”

“No, no I have everything here for you. Thanks for this.”

“Course Pete, anything for you.” You hung up before you could get any type of snarky reply.

Peter’s blond locks were a new addition about three weeks into your situation ship and you absolutely loved them. They flattered his face, and made his little baby deer eyes even more baby deer like. Which made you want to kiss him even more, and made it hard to say no when he’s asking you for another round.

“You’re literally the best for this. Just moved up to like number two in my ranking.”

It was a joke, you were easily number one if not the only girl in Peter’s ranking but you have to play along or else you’ll scare him away.

“Offended, whose number one.”

“May..sorry.” Peter sighs dramatically, leading you up the stairs to his bathroom. Tossing a few nods and hey’s to his brothers walking down the steps.

“Mhm can’t be mad at that.”

Peter laughed sitting on the chair he’d tucked away in the bathroom, pulling off his shirt.

“Awe did you go ahead and set everything up for me?”

“No I was gonna do it myself but that's how we ended up in this scenario in the first place.”

Peter would never admit to it but he had set everything up for you. He’d done it before he even picked up the phone: not that he knew you'd say yes but he could hope.

“Mhm I see.” You hummed running your fingers through Peter’s hair. He grabbed his phone starting his music, looking at you in the mirror as you started sectioning his hair out.

Admittedly the whole time he was locked on you. Every move you made he was locked on you, not wanting to miss a moment. His head lolled back as you ran; you painted the bleach on his roots. Earning soft little ‘stops’ and ‘hold your head up’ from you as he relaxed. Your eyes were fixed on his hair making sure you’re applying everything evenly and correctly. Peter held his phone up in the mirror snapping a quick photo of the two of you. The photo falling amongst the others he’s sneakily taken of you or the both of you that you had no clue about.

“Okay you gotta sit for a while and then I’ll wash it, tone it, all that after.” You said sitting on the toilet lid next to him taking the gloves off, tossing them in the trash can.

“This is nice.”

Peter's comment threw you off, you two only really hung out in the context of having sex or it being mutually beneficial for both. You hated to admit you had more moments like this.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm no pressure, at least not for you. I still gotta make jokes and keep you entertained.”

“Tragic.” You tsked resting your arm on the sink hand to head as your free hand started a 30 minute timer.

“Come on, we have enough time to watch some of that Hulu cooking show you like.” Peter stood taking your hand in his walking to his room. You flopped down on Pete’s bed watching him sitting next to you. “Careful you’ll get bleach on your..”

“No no, I'm good sitting up.”

You nodded and laid your head on his lap watching The Bear, Pete’s fingers combing through your hair switching between watching the TV and you.

Pete’s head was tilted back in the sink, a towel under his neck for comfort. “Stop looking down my shirt, Parker.”

“I’m not…I’m not.” He lied, turning his eyes up to look at you as you shampooed after toning his hair. “Do I look fabulous?”

“Oh absolutely.” You laughed wrapping his hair up in a towel helping him sit up. Ruffling the towel through his hair you laughed watching it sticking up every which way. You blow dried it for him smiling and singing under your breath as you fixed his hair perfectly.

“How do you feel Parker?”

“Amazing..I look great thanks bashful.” He says turning around, capturing your hips in his hands. “Let's get dinner, and then we can come back here.”

“I hate sex after dinner.”

“No, no we come back here and finish the show.”

“Oh I get to come back to the Theta house? And not have sex?” You fake a gasp of shock.

“I know it’s a rare occurrence. This is a one time thing though, don’t let it get to ya head.” Pete taunts, hand rubbing your side grabbing his wallet off his dresser.

“Oh baby it has.”

Peter knew and even in his playful disdain and stubborn personality you were slowly craving a spot out in his chest and making a home in it, and at this point he had no say in it.

___________

tags: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @moonyslove78 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @ateliefloresdaprimavera @eevylynn

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker #bambi writes #tasm fanfiction #tasm peter #tasm peter smut #tasm peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter fluff #andrew peter parker #tasm peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #frat!peter

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flowerandblood · 9 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (31)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Aemond thought he had gone completely and utterly mad. When he wasn't planning for war, he lay in a makeshift tent next to his wife, crying once from happiness that she had survived, once from despair, because the wounds that she had sustained were going to leave marks on her body forever.

He thought that she would never forgive him.

He ordered Alys to show him how to handle and bandage her wounds, and then told her never to go near her again. She only owed it to the fact that she had helped save her, that she still had both hands. He would have cut them off for her daring to touch her cheek and hand.

She'd wanted to drag him to her bed, and now she was pretending to worry about his wife.

Insolent whore.

When he first pulled the bandage off her arm and saw how red and cracked her skin was, he covered his mouth with his hand to keep from starting to wail loudly.

He had done this to her.

He and his family.

He applied ointment to her wounds, slowly and carefully, wanting to make sure that everything healed as quickly as possible. He knew that her scars would remain. Her whole left arm, thigh and side would be covered with them.

His wife's beautiful, wonderful, delicate body destroyed by fire.

He applied the bandages slowly and gently. He was concerned that she still hadn't woken up, she was sleeping a strong, stony sleep. He was afraid of what would happen once she opened her eyes and realised what had happened. What he would see in her gaze when she realised what he had done to her.

What her beloved husband had done to her.

Borros Baratheon's army arrived at dawn the day after Prince Daemon's attack on Harrenhal. Lord Borros and his son entered Harrenhal on horseback along with their warriors, banners with the embroidered stag flapping loudly in the wind.

They found an appalling sight and hundreds of burnt bodies. Lord Borros refused to speak to him, furious he dismounted from his horse and ordered himself led to his daughter.

Aemond watched in silence as her father knelt by her side, her older brother beside him. The two bearded, muscular, serious men pressed their lips together, their eyes red as they saw how much of her body was in bandages. Her father touched her cheek as if she were made of glass, and he felt his throat tighten at the sight.

"Why is she asleep?" Asked Royce impatiently in a slightly cracking voice, coming towards him, furious. Aemond looked at him, tired and discouraged, having not slept in peace either of the last two nights.

"Poppy milk. So that she does not suffer." He said calmly, but his words only angered her brother.

"So that she doesn't suffer?" He asked mockingly, stepping close to him. Too close for his liking. "I gave you my youngest sister to look after, and you brought her to the battlefield in the middle of a war?" He asked furiously, his eyes brimming with anger. Aemond did not even flinch at his words.

"My uncle's attack took us all by surprise." Said truthfully, Borros Baratheon laughed, rising from his knees, looking at him with pity.

"The Targaryens like to surprise each other, don't they, boy? Brothers take their sisters' crowns, uncles burn their nephews." He said loudly, approaching him slowly, Royce snorted, stepping back, allowing his father to speak. Lord Baratheon looked at him indulgently, his eyes red with the grief that now squeezed his heart.

"You took my beloved child from me. You did not protect her. You are nothing, you and your brother. I and my army are only here for her. Your uncle will pay me for what he did to her." He said, turning away, heading for the exit.

"I will convene a council with my commanders in an hour. Come if you still want to play at war." He threw him over his shoulder and disappeared outside.

Aemond swallowed the humiliating words loudly, clenching his jaw. He was furious and it was boiling inside him, but he knew that he deserved it. Some part of him was glad he had said it.

He had joined the meeting along with Criston Cole, leaving his wife in the care of her brother. He knew Royce hated him, but as far as she was concerned, he trusted only him and their father.

Aemond began the meeting by outlining what the situation was.

"My uncle has located himself in Eyrie along with his dragon and an army transported by Clorys Velaryon. He found refuge with his wife's relatives." He said, placing a few pawns on the right side of the map. "I suspect he wanted to pull all our armies onto the battlefield and force my brother to move to help. But I think then my half-sister would want to take King's Landing right away, so we can't bring all our troops here." He said calmly and matter-of-factly. Lord Baratheon laughed at his words.

"Your brother sits in his keep like a dumb cunt. Who will support a king who takes no part in his own war? Is that not what the Hand of the King is for, to rule the state on his behalf?" He asked irritably, several of his commanders nodding at his words. Criston moved restlessly, tightening his lips, Aemond looked at him in silence.

"It would be better for my brother not to be here. War is not his passion." Said shortly, Lord Borros laughed low at his words, leaning over the wooden table and maps before them.

"So is ruling." He hissed, Aemond casting him a warning, dark look.

"Be careful, my lord. Your words could be considered treason." He said slowly, not taking his eye off him.

He swore to the gods.

He swore that if they spared her, he would relinquish his dreams of the throne.

That he would be a good brother.

They measured each other's gazes for a moment, then Lord Baratheon gave in, sighing heavily, and they moved on to discussing the position of the armies. Despite the advantage he had created for himself, his uncle did not attack them again, and he did not understand why.

He figured that he had been waiting for them to make a move, watching for sure what army they would be able to assemble. He believed that he wanted to draw out as many of them as possible to take King's Landing and they couldn't let him do that.

After the council, he came out of the tent and saw, surprised that Royce was going somewhere, apparently leaving his wife alone. He approached him, frowning his eyebrows, enraged, but his brother only threw him a quick, impassive glance.

"She's awake." He said, stepping around him, and his heart froze.

She was awake.

His wife was alive and conscious.

He pressed his lips together, feeling his heart pounding, his chest tightening painfully.

He forced himself to head towards the tent and plucked up the courage to go inside.

He saw her, lying on the bedding, her eyes wide at the sight of him. They both looked at each other like that, pain, suffering and disbelief on their faces. He felt a sting in his heart seeing that her cheeks were wet, that she was crying.

That she had realised what had happened to her.

He approached her uncertainly and knelt beside her, touching her cheek gently, rubbing the wetness from her skin with his thumb, afraid that she was about to scream for him to get out.

"How are you feeling?" He asked weakly, uncertainly, feeling his throat tighten. For some reason he felt like crying from happiness and despair at the same time, for the umpteenth time in days.

She was alive, but she would always hate him, just as he hated Luke for what he had done to him.

He saw her swallow quietly and blink rapidly, breathing unevenly, scared and tired.

"Good." She choked out, and he felt that she too spoke with difficulty. That she was devastated by what had happened.

He saw after a moment a wave of tears gather across her eyelids, her soft lips tightened in pain, her eyebrows arched in helplessness. He knew what she was thinking about.

She was a woman, how he perceived her physically, if he found her beautiful and desired her as a husband was an important part of her confidence.

He knew that just as he feared she would be disgusted by his lack of an eye, she feared her wounds and scars would disgust him. He, however, only dreamed that once they had healed, he would kiss them with reverence and anointing, proof of his beloved wife's devotion to him, her total commitment.

He lay down next to her, laying on his side, looking at her beautiful, warm face, the face of his wife next to whom he had woken up every morning for almost a year.

Next to his wife whom he had ripped from her father's arms and made his own, whom he had fucked all nights, filling her with his seed. His fingertips traveled over the soft skin of her cheek, he felt a single, solitary tear of pain and suffering involuntarily fall from his eye.

"Forgive me." He whispered in a trembling voice, looking at her pleadingly. He saw her pupils dilate, her lips tremble, pain and warmth in her gaze, a feeling that made him hot.

He shuddered and sighed as her soft hand touched his cheek, her forehead pressed against his, his lungs filled with her wonderful scent. He felt his member pulsate hard under his armour.

He longed to unite with her body and soul.

He desired to enter her deeply more than ever.

He leaned towards her, his lips brushing hers, when suddenly someone entered the tent. He pulled away, terrified, and rose, breathing quietly.

He looked impassively at her brother who was holding a bowl of soup, feeling his heart pounding, his manhood completely hard and swollen.

"I'll take care of it." He said, reaching out for the bowl, willing him to leave them alone. Her brother snorted at his words.

"Are you caring now? Where were you when she was on fire? Why do you and your drunken brother, who hides in the Red Keep like a fucking cunt, always get away with everything, while my sister is disfigured for the rest of her life?" He hissed angrily, and his insides boiled over.

His wife was not disfigured.

His wife was beautiful.

"My wife is not disfigured, Lord Baratheon. Nothing can disfigure her, and the wounds she has sustained will eventually heal." He said with emphasis, impatiently, glaring at him menacingly.

They began to argue until his wife, impatient, told them both to leave, again on the verge of crying. Royce pressed his lips together, placing the bowl of her soup beside her bed after which he left the tent, throwing him a threatening, hateful look. Aemond looked at her, tightening her lips.

"I won't leave." He said lowly. Even if she didn't want to see him, he wasn't going to leave her alone. She needed help with the bandage changes and someone had to watch over her. He had become obsessed with it and wouldn't let anyone else near her.

"Where's Alys?" She asked indifferently, stirring a wooden spoon in her food, and he tightened his lips at the thought that she might want her to look after her instead of him. He didn't like the idea.

"She's treating the wounded. Shall I summon her?" He asked cautiously and she shook her head, not raising her eyes at him. He sighed quietly and knelt beside her again, looking at her tenderly.

"May I stay?" He asked softly, gently, his throat tightening again with pain and fear that she would tell him to get out. She, however, swallowed quietly and after a long moment, nodded.

He breathed a sigh of relief and summoned his servant to help him pull off his armour. They talked for a while about the war situation and their plans, until he was left in only his nightgown and trousers, and their servant finally left them alone.

He looked at her uncertainly and walked over to the bed, sitting down on it, looking over his shoulder at her, playing with his fingers. She didn't say much and he didn't know what she was thinking, what she thought of him.

He wanted her to shout out to him that she was furious with him and hated him, but she was sweet and calm as ever, and his heart was breaking.

"Can I sleep next to you?" He asked quietly and she set the empty bowl aside with a quiet hiss, apparently through a lot of discomfort, as she moved the burned part of her body. She pressed her lips together, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course. Who else would you sleep next to? Next to Alys?" She asked lowly, feigning indifference, and he hid his face in his hands, devastated by her words and the fact that she thought, that he might have shared his bed with her.

"Have mercy on me. At least you." He said weakly, feeling that the last few days had worn him down and he was barely able to stay on his feet. He shuddered, when he felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder. He looked at her surprised and touched her skin with his fingers, stroking it steadily.

"Lie down, husband. Rest." She said softly. He hummed under his breath and nodded, his heart beating like mad.

She didn't push him away.

He lay down on the side where she didn't have any burns, so as not to accidentally cause her pain. He touched her shoulder gently, and then her face, looking at her with dreamy, strained, tired eye. He saw the heat and warmth in her eyes from which his member pulsed in his trousers.

He craved her.

He craved her as he had never before in his life.

He kissed her tentatively, barely brushing her lips, wanting to see how she would react to this, whether she would pull away from him. But she sighed softly, so sweetly, so warmly that encouraged, with a pounding heart he deepened the kiss, pressing into her moist flesh, heard her moan softly as his tongue slid between her lips.

He slid his hand down her healthy thigh, placing it between her legs, running it gently over her womanhood hidden beneath her chemise.

"Does it hurt?" He asked low, his voice trembling, feeling her warm breath on his face.

"No." She whispered softly, and he already knew what he wanted to give her.

He touched his fingers against her, trailing them over her womanhood, again so wonderfully wet and ready for him, waiting for him to enter her, to take her.

He craved it, craved the comfort of her arms, to sink deep into her and come inside her, to fill her with his seed, begging her forgiveness, assuring her of his unrelenting admiration for the beauty of her body.

But he knew that he would cause her pain, that they would have to stop and they would both be unfulfilled. He wanted her to at least experience that, to know that he wasn't just thinking about himself. That he had changed.

He had promised the gods that he would be a better husband.

He watched with delight as she came under the touch of his hand, her hot, tight insides clenching steadily against his fingers, sweet, drawn-out moans coming from her mouth from which his member pulsed with pain and desire.

She felt it and wanted to touch him, but he held her back. He didn't want her in the state she was in, with her whole body aching, to focus on him and the fact that he wanted to fuck.

However, he was under no illusion that once her wounds had healed, he would have no mercy for her.

To his despair, she would not let him help her change her bandages or apply her ointment. She wanted to do it herself and asked him to leave for that time. He tried to explain to her that he was the last person to be impressed by such a sight, but he accepted that she felt uncomfortable, that the state of her body filled her with pain, uncertainty and despair.

Her father's maester who had come with them from Storm's End took over her care, and he was the only one she allowed to examine herself.

Everytime he left Aemond questioned him thoroughly and was relieved each time the medic told him, that her wounds were healing properly and scarring slowly. She no longer had open wounds and her skin no longer ached, but it was still red.

Although they had always slept naked until now, his wife now wore long nightdresses covering her body. She did not want him to look at her and tied the material up, so that not a scrap of burned skin could be seen. He suffered at the sight, but he did not want to force her to do anything against her will.

On the first day when she no longer had to wear the bandages, she smiled at him as she had before all this happened, walking around the tent and talking about something lightly.

He watched her, sitting on their bed, waiting for her to join him and untangle her braid. The Maester had told her that with quick attention to the burns and their proper care, the wounds would heal better and be less visible than originally thought.

Looking at her, behaving again as she had when they were in King's Landing, he felt desire and had the impression that he would explode. For days he had lain beside her at night, unable to touch her, to feel her, and ashamed to relieve himself with his hand in her presence. He felt like he was going to go mad.

When she extinguished the last candle and he felt her slip under the duvet, her warmth right beside him, he thought that he couldn't take it anymore.

"Turn your back on me." He said, seeing how she wanted to cling to his chest. He saw her surprised look, however, she did meekly what he asked.

He immediately pressed his manhood hidden in his trousers against her buttocks, clenching his hand on her healthy hip, pressing his face against her neck, rubbing himself against her with intense, fluid movements.

"− gods, I need this −" He exhaled helplessly and felt her whole body tremble, she began to breathe faster, her buttocks pressing against his manhood, making a low, helpless sound.

"− me too − please −" She moaned softly, embarrassed by their shared desperation. She pulled her chemise up as he quickly untied his trousers and lowered them, his hard, swollen member slapping against her bare skin.

They were both panting loudly as his hands quickly lifted her hips, directing the tip of his manhood to her hot, wet entrance. Unable to stop himself, he entered her at once, deep, all the way in, making a low, almost animalistic sound.

He tightened his hand on her hip and began to move inside her, panting and moaning along with her, their bodies hot and yearning, hitting against each other with a sticky, loud slap each time he slid into her again, pushing her tight, throbbing walls apart.

"− gods, yes − I missed that − fuck, tell me if it hurts −" He exhaled helplessly, fucking her with all his might, possessed only by lust, penetrating her so deeply that she sobbed beneath him, clasping her hands over his palms, her hips responding fervently to his every thrust.

"− oh, yes − Aemond, please, harder −" She mumbled pleadingly, and those words were enough to make him lose control completely.

He slipped out of her suddenly and forced her to lie on her back. He spread her legs in front of him, paying no attention to the fact that she was trying to cover the burns on her thigh. He took her hand, not allowing her to cover herself, untying the ties of her shirt, wanting to reveal her breasts.

"No." She whispered pleadingly, gripping his wrists. "Please."

He hesitated, seeing her face, terrified and hot, tears in her eyes. He thought that she was beautiful.

That she was his.

He pulled his eye patch from his eye and saw her draw in a loud breath, as he removed the sapphire from his eye socket in one sure movement, setting it down on the bed beside them.

That was just the way he was.

He knew what she saw before her.

There was a dark hole in the left side of his face, partially obscured by his drooping eyelid. He, without any embellishment or pretense, his body, scarred and disfigured in all its glory.

He saw her raise her trembling hand and touch his cheek, sweet smile on her face. Her touch as always gentle, warm, full of acceptance.

He thought he loved her.

"− let me fuck my wife the way I want to −" He said, grasping the strings from her nightgown with his fingers, but this time her hands did not stop him. He slipped her chemise off her shoulders, one light, the other red, slightly cracked like thirsty earth. He stared, thinking that he felt nothing but adoration for her.

He exposed her wonderful breasts, spread her legs in front of him and knelt in front of her, entering her with ease, tilting her head back. He began to move inside her even more intensely and brutally than before, panting and moaning along with her her body writhing beneath him with pleasure and indecision, her hands clenching helplessly on his chemise, her gaze expressing a plea for fulfilment.

"− just like that − a good husband knows what's best for his wife − he knows how to fuck her to make her feel good −" He exclaimed, licking his lips, feeling that he was on the verge of orgasm as much as she was, she wept loudly at his words, his thighs slapping against her buttocks loudly and perversely, their shared juices dribbling onto the bedding beneath them. "− isn't that right? −"

"− yes −" She mewled, giving herself to him completely, his member pressing against her upper wall with each thrust, bringing her body to spasms with pleasure, her lips parted wide in sweet moans.

"− oh gods, please − fuck me − fuck me − fuck me! −" She sobbed loudly and he moaned low at her words, his thrusts deep, sure and strong.

"− my sweetest − oh, fuck! −" He exhaled, tilting his head, feeling her walls begin to clench beneath him in orgasm, literally squeezing his seed out of him, his fulfilment strong, even painfully pleasurable. He felt like they were both screaming in the rapture, all sweaty, hungry for their closeness.

He collapsed on top of her and she hissed loudly. He rose immediately on his elbows, looking at her horrified.

"Forgive me −" He whispered, wanting to slide out of her immediately and take the weight of his body off her, but her hands stopped him.

"− no − please −" She mumbled, looking at him embarrassed. "− just a moment longer −"

He looked at her and hummed under his breath, leaning over her again, this time being careful not to crush her with his body. He kissed her lips, running his nose over her face.

He thought with surprise that he no longer cared what he looked like. He'd fucked her without his eye patch, without his sapphire and experienced one of the best orgasms of his life. He smiled at the thought and she blinked, stroking his cheek with her hand, her breathing calming slowly.

"−…the stone in your eye is causing you pain − you don't have to wear it in my presence, my beloved −" She said quietly, and he felt his heart squeeze at her words. A warm feeling that spread through his body.

"I will not, if you also do not veil yourself from me. Your body is meant to be bare for me every night."

_____

Taglist

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @tempt-ress @blairfox4 @crazymusicgirl104 @ahristata @menaosama @ladywin17 @queenofshinigami

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nancy-reads · 7 months

Text

am I the one you think about?

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: you're struggling to move all the boxes into your new shop in diagon alley. good thing that you have such a lovely redhead neighbor to help you....after you nearly kill him, of course.

warnings: slight angst and a cliffhanger

authors note: there will be a part two! i promise this has a happy ending i love these two too much. also this is mostly unedited because i really want to post it like right now

CROSS-POSTED TO AO3

As soon as you apparated to your new shop, you knew you should have taken your friends up on their offers to help you move in. The bricks were uneven, the stairs were steep, and you had what felt like a million boxes to move into the shop and the flat above it. Magic would speed up the process, but you could only lift so many at a time.

You’d dropped your third box when you tripped on the stairs and nearly broke your arm. Rubbing your arm and cursing yourself for your stupidity, you weren’t paying attention as you walked outside to retrieve more boxes.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” you cast, anger coloring your tone. Two boxes shot up into the air, and before you could stop them, they hit the man walking past right in the face.

You clapped your hand to your face and lowered your wand, immediately causing the heavy boxes to fall right on top of him.

“Shit!” you cursed as you ran over and squatted next to him. “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

You cursed yourself. Of course he’s not alright. You just hit him in the face with a heavy box. Twice.

“Christ,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “You really know how to make an impression.”

Heat flooded your cheeks. Of course, he was attractive too. Fiery red hair, a strong jawline, and freckles all around his face. It looked like he was tall too. You couldn’t really tell since he was mostly on the ground, but he looked strong.

“I am so sorry,” you repeated. “I have some bruising salves and if anything hurts more I can probably fix it, I mean I am a healer-” you cut yourself off. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, I think it's just my pride that’s bruised,” he said, smirking as he moved into a seated position. You cringed as you saw the blue and purple mark that was already developing on his forehead.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to fix that bruise? It looks pretty nasty.”

“Just your pretty face should be fine.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you grabbed the salve. Still, he was cute…

“I don’t know,” you teased as you began applying the ointment to his face. “Delusions like that might indicate some sort of brain damage.”

His smile widened. “Does that mean you’re a hallucination? Because that would be cruel.”

You rolled your eyes as you finished. “Seriously though, I am so sorry,”

“Seriously though, it’s fine,” he mocked with a deadpan expression. “I’m Fred, by the way. My brother and I run that shop over there.”

Fred stood as he pointed to the massive orange shop labeled Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“Really, I couldn’t tell from the massive statue of your face on the front.”

He smirked. “Can’t miss it,” he paused for a second. “And you never told me your name.”

You introduced yourself, and Fred smiled. “Pretty name.”

“Uh…thanks,” you stuttered. It felt like the flush on your face would never go away.

It was silent for a moment before Fred asked, “Do you need any help bringing those boxes up?”

You immediately shook your head. “No, no I’ve got it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you sure?” he smirked. “It seemed like you were struggling a little bit before.”

You glared at him. “I was perfectly fine until you got in the way.”

“Got in the way!” He gasped in mock-anger. “I was simply walking the pavement when someone hit me with like ten flying boxes!”

“It was not ten, you liar,” you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you continued to banter with him. It was just so fun.

“Wow,” he tutted. “Barely known me five minutes and you’re already calling me a liar.”

“I’ve always been a good judge of character.”

Unbeknownst to you, Fred had already taken his wand out of his pocket and was beginning to edge toward the boxes. He waved his wand, and two boxes rose into the air as if they were feathers.

Of course, he has to be good at magic too.

“No. You are gonna go home and make sure that you don’t get hit by any more stray boxes,” you demanded, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.

Fred’s smile grew as he lowered the boxes (much more gracefully than you ever have) and placed his hands up in surrender. “How about we make a deal?”

You cocked your head. “What kind of deal?”

He clasped his hands and stepped closer to you. “How about I help you with these boxes-”

“No.”

“Let me finish, I swear did no one teach you that patience is a virtue?” There’s a smiling lilt to his voice that makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“Fortune favors the bold.”

“Anyway,” he continues, smiling still as he rolls his eyes. “I’ll help you with these boxes, and in return, you’ll come and visit me in my shop tomorrow.”

You paused, pretending to think for a moment. Of course, you were going to do it. More time with cute ginger shop boy who was definitely taller than you and looked like he had some very strong arms? How could you say no?

“I suppose I could fit it into my schedule,” you said, daring to elbow him in the side as you both walked toward the boxes.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with more laughs than you thought possible. Fred was so funny, you supposed it made sense that he ran a joke shop. It felt like both of you were laughing every single second.

And the best part was when you found out how strong his arms really were.

Fred had just been telling you about one of his Hogwarts escapades when he and his brother used an age potion to try and enter the Triwizard Tournament.

“So you really grew long white beards?” you couldn’t stop giggling as you followed Fred down the stairs.

Fred threw a smile your way as he reached the bottom of the steps. “Yup. We nearly started fighting each other too. Would have if not for- woah!”

In your incessant laughter, you hadn’t been paying much attention to your very steep stairs and found yourself falling…

…straight into Fred’s very strong arms.

It was silent for a second as you stared into each other’s eyes. His arms held you tightly as if you weighed nothing at all. You could feel heat creeping up your neck.

Fred paused, looking like he was thinking hard about something.

“You know, I guess you could say that you fell for me,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

You smacked his (heavily muscled) arm. “That was disgusting.”

“Sorry darling, I couldn’t resist.”

Was it possible to die from joy and embarrassment at the same time? It had to be.

You told him more about your shop as you floated the last few boxes upstairs. You were opening an apothecary with potions, ointments, and other helpful tools for healing so that people didn’t have to go to St. Mungos every time they had a problem. You were also thinking about offering small healing services once you had more staff.

“Thats so cool!” Fred grinned. “I think we’ll probably end up with some similar customers.”

You snorted. “Yeah, I’ll get all the victims of your schemes.”

“I just sell the stuff,” he objected. “What my customers do is their own business.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Sure Fred. You tell yourself that.”

He gave you an innocent smile as both of you looked outside to realize that you had just brought the last boxes in. You stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” you said. “I did make a promise to see your shop.”

“That you did,” Fred replied. “I better see you. I didn’t carry all these boxes for nothing.”

“That excited to see me, huh?”

“Yes, actually,” his smile was genuine. “I can’t wait to see your reaction to all my ‘schemes’ as you call them.”

Heat spread through your cheeks. “I’m excited to see you too.”

The next day was torture. Showing up at Fred’s shop at eight in the morning would have been the definition of creepy, so you forced yourself to set up your shop and unpack most of your boxes.

You were quite proud of the work you had done for the last few hours. Twinkling lights were strewn around your shop, and magical plants wrapped around the shelves. All in all, the glass potion bottles and herbs would fit right in.

You finally allowed yourself to head upstairs and choose an outfit. It took far longer than it should have, considering that Fred saw you yesterday in what was quite possibly the ugliest outfit you owned.

Then you messed with your hair and your makeup. You knew it was kind of stupid, considering how flirty he had been yesterday, but you wanted to feel confident. And looking good was probably the only way you were going to get there.

Finally, after spending far too long on your appearance, you stepped out the door of your shop. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was the brightest thing on the street, and your eye was immediately drawn to the massive statue of Fred at the front, the orange coloring, and the smiles and laughter that surrounded the building. Even just looking at it made you want to smile.

As you walked briskly toward the building, you could feel your heart beginning to race. You bit your lip, trying to hide the smile that was emerging, because really, you should not have a crush this big. You'd met the man once, for Merlin’s sake.

Your smile immediately dropped when you actually got to the shop.

Because Fred was standing there, his smile wide but different than yesterday. It wasn’t filled with the same laughter and joy. He wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at someone else. He was looking at another girl. Another girl who leaned in a kissed him. And he kissed back.

And you turned on your heel and fled back to your shop.

#sorry #fred weasley x reader #x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter #fanfic #writing

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sacredjake · 4 months

Text

pairing: Josh Kiszka x Reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! cussing, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, smut, praise kink, very slight degradation, spanking, rough sex, overstimulation, hate sex, unprotected sex

welcome to the first of four collabs that @gold-mines-melting and i have planned! we hope yall enjoy this enemies to lovers josh fic that we planned out :)

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“You’re going to Jake’s party tonight, right?”

“Yes, Jenna, of course I’m going to Jake’s party. We talked about this like last week.” You set your phone down on your bathroom counter and pulled out your makeup bag.

“I know that, Y/n, but you also said you considered not going just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Josh.”

She wasn’t wrong. You had said you were debating not going to your mutual friend’s party just because of his twin brother. Jake was one of your closest friends, so of course if he was throwing a shindig you wanted to go, but Josh made it so hard to be around most of the time.

You and Josh had once been close. In fact, at one point a long time ago, you really liked him and you thought he liked you back. However, that hope was quickly stripped away and the feelings you had towards him grew into loathing when he started treating you horribly. He constantly made rude, snarky comments to you and about you, and made sure to really kick you when you were down. And you had no idea why.

“I’m not gonna let Josh ruin a great New Year’s Eve party.” You began applying your foundation as you spoke.

“Good. I gotta start getting ready so I’ll see you later.”

“For sure.” You agreed and let her hang up so you could blend the foundation out. You quickly finished up your festive makeup, and slipped on your sparkly dress and heels.

When you arrived at Jake’s house you were pretty positive that you had been the first, if not the only, to arrive. While there was still an open spot in the driveway you pulled into the spot in front of Jake’s garage. You didn’t bother locking your car and headed straight for the front door. Just as you were walking up the path leading to his house you could hear a car loudly making its way down the road. Out of habit you turned towards the noise to see who it could be.

Of course it had to be Josh. And of course instead of pulling into the open spot next to you he decided to park behind you. Completely blocking you in. Asshole.

“You couldn’t park in the completely open spot next to me?” You nearly shout mostly to be heard as Josh exits his jeep.

“You’re the one that parked in my spot, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry? Your spot?” You can’t help but stare at him completely baffled by his entitlement. You also can’t help but notice how nice he looked. His mullet was curled and fluffed up nicely, and his outfit, an elegant suit over his usual white crewneck, flattered his slender frame very nicely. You mentally scolded yourself for even thinking about it. Josh paid you no mind however, and walked past you.

“That’s what I said.”

It took you a moment to get moving again, but you started following him towards the door, you were hot on his heels. He had already managed to piss you off before he even left his car.

“This isn’t even your house, Josh. How in the hell is that your spot.”

Josh didn’t bother knocking on the door and instead just let himself in. Had it not been for the two of you arguing, rather loudly, Jake probably wouldn’t have known you were there. You and Josh were bickering so intensely that it was actually Jake's presence that went unnoticed.

“You’re a self-entitled prick.” You pointed your finger at him, your chest puffed up and practically touched his.

“And you’re a selfish brat!” He spat back.

“Hey! Whoa!” Jake finally decided to intervene and pushed his brother back gently with his arm. “What the fuck could the two of you be arguing about?! You just got here!”

“Little miss ‘I only think about myself’ here parked in my spot!”

“How arrogant do you have to be to claim you have a parking spot at someone else’s house?!” You started to move in closer to Josh when you felt a pair of hands grip your shoulders.

“That’s enough, you two. It’s fucking New Year’s Eve.”

Somewhere between fighting with Josh outside and walking inside, Sam and Danny had arrived to help set up. Danny was currently holding you back.

“Josh get your ass in the kitchen and help me put out the food. Y/n go with Sam and Danny to set up the living room. I don’t wanna hear either of you say a peep to or about the other. Got it?” Jake demanded. The only response either of you gave was an unhappy mumble of agreement.

For the next hour you and Josh had been separated by his brothers. It was definitely for the best.

You, Danny and Sam worked together to finish the decorations up in the living room and set up a cocktail and champagne station. Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jake and his twin set out all the food and the full bar. When a few of your friends showed up Sam and Danny were nowhere to be found. You had assumed that they were making their rounds talking to everyone, but you spotted them almost hiding away with Jake, deep in a private conversation.

With more party-goers showing up it was easier to keep your distance from Josh. The lights had been dimmed, and you were feeling pleasantly tipsy after a cocktail. You drifted from person to person catching up and saying hi, enjoying the glamor of the evening. Some people you didn’t know and would introduce yourself to. Eventually Sam found you while you were free from company.

“Hey, Y/n, I need you to go down into Jake’s basement and get another bottle of champagne.”

“Yeah, sure. Is there a certain brand I’m looking for?”

Sam’s lips pulled up at the corner in an almost sly grin. “You’ll know it when you see it.” Without another word he walked away leaving you to retrieve the bottle.

You made your way to the door that led down into the basement and began the familiar descent down. There had been countless nights with your close friends spent in Jake’s basement just drinking, playing games and getting high. Not bothering to close the door behind you, you walked carefully down the steps.

“Dude I’m not seeing a bottle of champagne anywhere.” A voice called out from the room below you.

Josh.

He must’ve thought you were Jake coming to check on him. Before he realized it was you and not his twin, you turned and practically bolted up the stairs. You saw a glimpse of Sam on the other side of the door along with Jake and Danny before it slammed shut. The next sound you heard was a lock clicking into place.

“You have got to be joking!” You shouted and banged your fists on the door.

“Y/n? What the hell did you do?”

You turned around to meet Josh’s eyes. He was about more than halfway up the stairs, a puzzled look on his face.

“I didn’t do shit! They slammed the door and locked us in here!” You wiggled the handle furiously hoping to god it would open.

“You can’t be fucking serious.” Josh closed the distance and basically squished you against the wall. He repeated your previous action. Clearly the door wasn’t going to open.

“Oh we’re serious alright. No one is allowed to enter or exit until the two of you have worked your shit out.” Jake’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Open the goddamn door, assholes!” Josh pounded his fist against the wood this time.

On the other side of the door there was nothing. Clearly all of them decided not to stick around. Seeing that standing there waiting around was pointless, you turned and walked down the stairs before flopping defeated onto the couch.

Great. You were trapped in a room for god knows how long with a man you despised. As if on cue, the devil himself thundered down the steps.

“This is all your fault!” He seethed, finger pointed at you as he walked over.

“My fault?!”

“Yeah, had you not parked in my spot we wouldn’t be down here right now!” He was looming over you now.

“Do you even hear yourself?!” You stood up causing him to back up quickly but the coffee table between you ensured he couldn’t go anywhere. “Any sane person would have just parked NEXT to my car, but no! You had to block me in because I parked in a spot of a house you DON’T EVEN LIVE IN!” You shoved your pointer finger into his chest to drive the point home further.

“I think you need to go back to Kindergarten when we were taught to keep our hands to ourselves.” His voice was calm and collected unlike yours, but you could tell he was fuming. It only served to irk you even further.

“Fuck. You. Josh.” You pressed your finger into him with every word and craned your neck upwards even more, invading his space just to make him break.

This was the closest you had been to Josh in a very, very long time. Even when you were arguing earlier you hadn’t been this close. His sweet but musky scent invaded every sense and you had to keep yourself from looking at his lips.

“Y/n,” You could see the anger flare in his eyes, “I would suggest you take your finger off me.” You could feel his chest rising rapidly underneath the sole digit.

“What are you,” Another thrust of your finger into his sternum, “gonna do about it?”

In an instant his lips crashed into yours. It was like your mouth moved of its own accord melding into his. Your hands fisted themselves in the collar of his white crewneck sweatshirt and pulled him closer. His hands were firm on your waist, fingers pulling you to him. The kiss was sloppy and rushed. Everything was moving a million miles a second.

Josh’s hands moved back over your hips to grab your asscheeks and gave them a firm squeeze. You bit down hard on his lip and tugged on it earning a groan from him. One of his hands gripped itself in the hair at the base of your skull and pulled enough to cause slight discomfort, but not enough to pull you away.

The kiss only got more heated, groans and moans escaping both your lips. After a few moments you were craving more and found your fingers working to undo his belt. His hands slid underneath the hem of your dress and teased around the top of your underwear before dipping further, but still he avoided everywhere you needed him. Not wanting to play into his game, you pushed his slacks and boxers past his hips, freeing him completely.

“Eager are we?” Josh didn’t even bother pulling his lips from yours.

“Are you going to play with my underwear all night or are you gonna fuck me?”

“Need it that bad huh?”

“Fuck. You.”

“Oh you’re about to. Turn around and bend over.” He took your hips in his hands and forced you to turn around. You followed his second instruction, bracing your hands on the back of the couch. With his foot he kicked your legs further apart and ran two fingers over your covered cunt. As he ran them back up the length of your slit towards your clit he curled his fingers on the edge of the fabric. He bunched the skirt of your dress up over your hips and slowly pulled your underwear to the side, watching the wetness that clung to them stretch.

“Any day now would be fucking great, Jo-”

All of the air was ripped from your lungs as he buried himself into you fully. He didn’t give you any time to recover before pulling out of you almost completely and driving back in repeatedly. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t know what he was doing. With every thrust he successfully hit that spot that made your core tighten and pitchy moans leave your mouth.

“Don’t have much to say now, do you princess?” There was no slowing his pace, and in fact you thought it even got faster and harder.

In a matter of a few minutes he had already brought you to the edge of an orgasm. You could feel yourself staring down the abyss, but you just needed one final push. Using the small amount of leverage you had, you pushed your hips back to meet his and arched your back ever so slightly. The small change in position had you practically barreling towards your climax.

“Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, Josh. Just like that. God don’t fucking stop, I’m about to- I’m gonna- Fuck me, Josh.” You sounded desperate and whiny, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“You sound so pretty when you beg for my cock.” Continuing his space, Josh spread his hands over your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and stretching you even further. His right hand released your ass before coming down hard on the sensitive skin. The blow he delivered was the last push you needed into your high, and he fucked you through it.

“Look at my favorite brat cumming for me. That’s it, baby, let ‘em know how good it is.”

Even when you had finally come down, Josh never once stopped his hips and chased his own high. His pace had slowed somewhat, but the obscene sounds of his skin slapping against yours only grew louder from how wet you were.

“Josh I-” You were cut off by your own moan. It was becoming too much and you were oversensitive.

“I know, I know. Just give me one more.” His hand snaked down in front of you and rubbed slow, tight circles on your clit. His voice was far softer than it had been in the longest time. “C’mon, just one more.” It sounded almost like a plea. His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, his chest grazing over your back.

With his free hand, Josh moved your hair away from your neck and began leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. He could feel you relax more underneath him, the discomfort turning to pleasure again. Keeping his attention on your clit, his hips started to speed up once more. You could feel the coil in your core tighten again, but much faster this time.

“God, you feel so fucking good.”

Once again he was ramming into you, but at a much slower pace and each brutal thrust of his hips bringing you that much closer to your second orgasm of the night. At this speed you were able to push back onto him more easily. After a few moments, Josh’s hips stilled completely, letting you take control. You sped up your hips and angled them with every push and pull, fucking yourself on his hard cock.

“Yeah that’s it, just like that.” His hand came into contact with your ass again forcing you to gasp in a pleasured sigh. “That’s it, baby, you fuck me so good.” Another slap landed to your backside and you were almost there.

“Just a little bit more. Keep going. So, so good.” The praises tumbled from his mouth with ease and you were eating it up.

With what little control you had left, you sped up your hips and slammed back on him repeatedly. His hands were gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises. You weren't going to last much longer.

“Josh I’m gonna cum, please.”

His hands stopped your hips from moving so he could take over. The pace he set this time was almost as fast and hard as when he first entered you. His right hand found your clit again while his left gently pushed your lower back down to increase the angle he was slamming into at. Your fingers were digging into the couch cushions, knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping them.

Just as before, with a firm smack to your ass you were pushed into your second orgasm of the night. You weren’t sure if you were making noise or not, the rush of adrenaline dulled every sense that wasn’t burning pleasure. Josh pulled out shortly after you came, catching sight of your cunt fluttering around nothing while he pumped himself a few more times. He braced himself against the back of the couch with his hand next to yours and his chest almost leaned fully on your back as he came on your lower back and ass.

As soon as he caught his breath he moved off you with only a simple, “Don’t move.” You did as he asked and stayed put, but mainly because you didn’t wanna risk getting cum on your dress. A few seconds later you were being wiped off with some kind of cloth before he carefully moved your underwear back in place.

“You should be good.”

“Thanks...” You stood up slightly confused and let the skirt of your dress fall back over your hips.

Josh threaded his belt back through the buckle and sat down on the couch. You felt awkward just standing there, but you weren’t sure what to say. He had been nice to you which you weren’t used to. And just gave you some of the best sex you’ve had in a very, very long time.

“Well that is not how I envisioned our first time going.” Josh rubbed his hands down his face and leaned back into the couch.

Once again you were confused. What did he mean by that?

“Our first time? Like you’ve thought about it?”

Josh didn’t say anything and instead stared at you like he hadn’t realized he said it out loud.

“And why were you being nice to me? You’re always such an ass, I thought you hated me.” He took a deep sigh and thought for a moment before speaking.

“I don’t hate you, Y/n.” His voice was soft and quiet. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually hated you. I think I was just hurt.”

“Hurt? You’ve treated me like shit all this time because you were hurt? What the hell did I ever do to you?” You couldn’t help the animosity seeping into your tone. You were pissed off. He was the one that started treating you like shit out of nowhere.

“Please, Y/n, don’t pretend you don’t know what you did.” Defeated anger laced his voice, his eyes slicing but still soft in a way.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Josh. Please enlighten me!”

“You ditched our gig for a date!” He stood from the couch and faced you, his hands flailing about. “I had specifically invited you to our home show for Strange Horizons and had passes for you and you blew us off for a date with your coworker!” He leaned in closer to you, invading your space more and more.

“Josh I-“

“I planned to sing Unchained Melody for you and then after the show I was gonna finally tell you how I felt because I thought you felt the same!”

You knew exactly which show he was talking about but he had the information wrong.

“Josh, I did feel the same way… And I never stood you up for a date.”

“But-“ You grabbed his hands and gave them a light squeeze.

“I got stuck at work. The person who was supposed to cover my shift backed out at the last minute and I had to go in. I couldn’t find anyone else to cover me on such short notice. I never had a date. My coworker canceled on me for a date.”

He looked absolutely dumbfounded. It was like the pieces were clicking into place for him.

“Oh god I am the stupidest man alive.” You smiled at him softly and threaded your fingers with his.

“No you’re not. It was a miscommunication. It happens.”

“Yeah, but I wasted the past year being so awful to you. Had I just asked you about it then maybe we could’ve…” You cut him off with a soft peck to his lips.

“Hey, it’s a new year, right?”

“Right.” He checked his watch. “Looks like we missed midnight,” he noted playfully, “but we definitely got our New Year's kiss.”

You giggled at that. Josh pulled you closer and smiled down at you fondly before giving you another quick kiss. “Let’s hope they didn’t forget about us.” He snickered, keeping one hand entwined with yours and walking towards the stairs. When he tried the handle it gave way with ease and the door swung open. He led the two of you back out into the house still holding your hand.

“Well it’s about damn time!” Sam hollered pointing at your hand in Josh’s. Whoops and more excited cheering followed making both of your cheeks flame.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Josh turned to you with bright red cheeks but with a smile that overtook his entire face. You nodded, not wanting to have to deal with how obnoxious your friends will be all night.

“Guess it doesn’t even matter that he blocked you in now!” Danny called after the two of you. You tried to make a quick getaway with everyone adding their two senses to the subject, all in favor of the two of you getting over yourselves.

Both of you just laughed at Danny’s comment and exited Jake’s house towards Josh’s Jeep. He opened the door for you to hop in the passenger side and made his way around to the driver’s side. Josh pulled his phone out to put on some music and chuckled to himself. He flipped the phone around to show you what amused him.

It was a text he had gotten while you were stuck in the basement.

Jake: Went to check on you to make sure neither of you murdered the other. Definitely didn’t sound like either of you were in danger… Not what I intended, but glad you worked your shit out. Don’t fuck it up this time.

The two of you rang in the new year at Josh’s house with an actual bottle of champagne and even more fireworks than the ones going off all around.

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onlyonetifosi · 4 months

Text

Behind the camera -> chapter 5

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

author note1: im sorry for the absence have been very ill but im better now i have some things to post that i will be posting these next days and weeks

uthor note2: if you want to be in the taglist comment it or send me a message <3 and i hope you like it

banner from @reveriesources she does incredible things

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the winding streets of Monaco. Yn and her twin brother, Charles, were at the heart of the glamorous city, surrounded by the energy of high-speed life and the whispers of the Mediterranean breeze. The twins had decided to gather their friends for an evening of laughter, chatter, and exploration.

"Come on, Yn, we are going to be late! " Charles said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Yn, twirled in front of the mirror, trying to perfect the balance between casual and stylish for the evening ahead.

As she rushed to finish her makeup, Charles lounged on her bed, an amused grin on his face. "You know, Joris won't notice if your eyeliner is perfect or not."

Yn rolled her eyes, and hurriedly applied a final stroke of mascara, glancing at the clock with a hint of panic in her eyes. "Maybe I just wanted to look presentable for once, Charles, not like you” she says, feigning nonchalance.

"You know, you're not fooling anyone. We all know you're taking extra time to impress him tonight."

Yn scoffed, trying to deflect. "Oh, please. You're imagining things"

As the two siblings descended the stairs, they joined a group of friends gathered in the living room.

"Salut, tout le monde!" Charles announced as they arrived, drawing everyone's attention.

Riccardo, a lively friend with a perpetual grin, greeted her first, "Bonjour, Yn! You look ravishing tonight."

Yn blushed, "Merci, Riccardo. You're too kind"

The group set off for a stroll around the glamorous streets of Monaco. The air was filled with laughter and the excited chatter of friends.

Unbeknownst to Yn, her friends, including Joris, were well aware of her not-so-secret crush.

Joris, a boy with a charming smile and kind eyes, walked alongside Yn.

As they walked, Yn caught glimpses of Joris, the object of her secret affection. She stole shy glances in his direction, catching his eye a few times. Unbeknownst to her, Joris couldn't help but smile every time he caught her looking.

"Alors, Yn, did you pick your outfit for Joris or the entire population of Monaco?" teased Marta, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Yn blushed, "Marta, you know I just like to look good"

Riccardo winked, "Sure, Yn. Whatever you say"

Their journey continued through the bustling mall, and the group split up. Marta and another friend insisted on exploring a flower shop, while Charles and the rest wanted to visit the tech shop nearby, leaving Yn feeling torn because Yn wanted to go to her favorite boutique. Joris, sensing her hesitation, offered to accompany her.

"I'll join you, Yn. It seems we have similar taste," he offered with a charming smile.

Their friends exchanged knowing glances, teasing smiles hinting at the unspoken feelings between the two. As Yn and Joris explored the shops together, their interactions became a dance of laughter and shared glances.

Inside the shop, Yn couldn't resist trying on a beautiful jacket. Joris couldn't help but admire her. "Tu es magnifique," he whispered, and Yn's heart skipped a beat. {You look beautiful.}

The warmth of his compliment ignited a blush on her cheeks. They exchanged shy smiles, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Yn blushed, fumbling for words and she stammered, "Uh, thanks. I mean, merci." And their interaction left them both feeling flustered and giddy.

As they rejoined the group later, Charles pulled Yn aside, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, you were redder than that jacket. What happened there?"

"Nothing," Yn mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Charles chuckled, giving her a playful nudge. "Sure, sis. Whatever you say."

As evening approached and the temperature dropped, the group decided to have dinner at a cozy restaurant.

"Let's grab dinner, it's getting late and chilly," Charles suggested, pulling Yn closer to him protectively. "What do you all think?"

Agreeing nods and murmurs of approval filled the air as they made their way to a nearby restaurant.

"Smile, everyone!" Charles called out, holding up his phone. The group huddled together, flashing their brightest smiles as the camera captured the moment.

Charles, in his usual teasing manner, orchestrated the seating arrangements, placing Yn next to Joris. Throughout the dinner, their friends exchanged knowing glances, subtly encouraging the connection between Yn and Joris.

The warmth inside enveloped them like a comforting embrace. They settled at a large table, with Yn finding herself next to Joris, a quiet and reserved boy she'd known since childhood.

"Que veux-tu manger?" Charles asked Yn, scanning the menu with her (What do you want to eat?)

" I think I'll have the grilled chicken" she replied, deciding on the grilled chicken.

Amidst the banter, Yn noticed Joris stealing glances her way. She smiled at him, not realizing the subtle yet kindled connection forming between them.

Joris, seated next to Yn, couldn't help but steal glances at her while savoring his food.

"Tu aimes le plat, Yn?" Joris asked, his eyes showing a mix of nervousness and curiosity.

"Oui, c'est délicieux," Yn replied, appreciating the effort he took to engage in conversation.

As the dinner progressed, the group shared stories, laughter, and occasional glances. The warmth of friendship melted away the evening chill, but it was evident that the night was advancing. Charles suggested, "On devrait commencer à penser à partir, non?" (We should start thinking about leaving, right?)

The group agreed, settling the bill and heading out into the cool night. They huddled together, waiting for their parents to pick them up.

In the midst of the shared warmth and camaraderie, Joris mustered up the courage to speak to Yn. "Uh, Yn, je voulais te dire quelque chose." (Uh, Yn, I wanted to tell you something)

She turned towards him, curious. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" she asked. (What is it?)

"Je... euh, j'aime bien passer du temps avec toi," he stammered, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. (I... um, I really like spending time with you)

Yn's eyes widened in surprise, a smile forming on her lips. "Moi aussi," she responded, not realizing the depth of his feelings. (Me too)

Joris hesitated for a moment, then finally blurted out, "Euh, je t'aime bien, Yn. Et, euh, je me demandais si tu voudrais peut-être… passer du temps avec moi le week-end prochain?" (Um, I like you, Yn. And, uh, I was wondering if you might want to... hang out with me next weekend?)

A smile tugged at Yn's lips, her heart warming at Joris's shy confession. "J'adorerais, Joris," she replied, her eyes meeting his. (I’d love to Joris)

As their parents arrived to pick them up, the group bid their goodbyes. Yn and Charles climbed into the car, sharing a quiet moment on the way home.

As they drove home, Yn turned to her brother, gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Ça va, Yn?" Charles asked, glancing over to his sister with a grin.

"Oui, tout va bien," Yn replied, exchanging a playful smile with her brother. “Merci, Charles. Merci pour cette soirée," she expressed, overwhelmed with a sense of appreciation for the life she had. (Thank you, Charles. Thank you for this evening)

Charles smiled, understanding the unspoken emotions. "De rien, Yn. Always here for you."

Little did Yn know, the events of the evening had set the stage for a budding connection with Joris, a connection that held the promise of more adventures and moments yet to unfold.

i hope you liked it and if you want to know more about joris and yn and the adventures they are going to follow stay tuned (also the annoying ballet girls are coming back but they are going to know who not mess with)

taglist: @love4lando @gcldtom @im-mi @topguncultleader @celesteblack08 @reblog-princess @sunf1ower16

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