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yourmomsemogarlicbread · 3 days

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Club Lights And Sex On The Beach

PART 1

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: 18+, alcohol, drinking, one-night stands/hookups, smut, penetrative sex, drunken sex (still consensual), protected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), afab reader, feminine terms of endearment used, pretty much a female reader but you could get away with it not imagining the reader as a woman.

Summary: After a fun night at the club you run into a handsome stranger and his friends. What happens when you end up in his bed?

Authors Note: This is a multichapter series!!!!!!! This is only part 1 but we are gonna get into a full-fledged story pretty soon. I will be posting parts 2 and 3 later tonight because they are both pretty short. If you choose this could be read as a one-shot but I strongly recommend following the series. I hope you enjoy it!!! also, remember that my requests are always open!

you can also read on AO3 here.

Part 1

The lights came down harshly on your skin, illuminating the dim room just a tad more. The club is decently packed, and a small crowd of people at the beginning of the night quickly turns into a bustling scene full of college girls looking for either a good time or a quick fuck, either way, it’s still fun. Then there were the rowdy frat boys either being annoying or harassing girls at the bar, either way, they were douchebags.

One type stood out to you though, it was a small group of guys, but they were different. You couldn’t help but notice these men, they were talking with each other at their fancy booth in the back of the club. There were 4 of them, all devilishly handsome you had to admit, but one of them shined particularly bright. You saw him frequent the bar throughout the night, until now.

You feel a force bump into you from the side, not hard but forceful enough for you to spill a little bit of your drink on the bar. “Oh I’m sorry sweetheart are you ok” you hear from beside you, a charming voice guiding you. And there he is, your mystery man you’ve had your eye on all night.

“Oh yeah I’m fine don’t worry about it.” You nearly yell above the loud music to him.

“Well it looks like you spilled your drink,” He says, making you look at the reminisce of your drunken reflexes failing you.

“Don’t worry about it it’s ok” You smile at him, and in return, he looks directly into your eyes. His brown eyes caused a shift in your stomach, piercing your soul while comforting you in a delightful mix of emotions.

“Well, I can stop worrying about it if you let me buy you a drink.” The clever way to buy a girl a drink. You sigh, “Well crap, I guess I gotta let you buy me a drink now.” You laugh out. “Why thank you,” he says, leaning over the bar and ordering sex on the beach. “Sex on the beach? how’d you know?” he looks back over at you with a smug grin strewn across his face, bewitching you even more. “I saw you ordering it when you first walked in.” Oh. So he was staring at you the whole night, interesting, I guess a smart girl’s intuition never fails. “Well thank you for noticing, Mr-” “Kiszka, but it would be best if you called me Josh.” “Well thank you very much, Josh, nice to meet you.” You smile back at him and for a moment you can feel lust piercing through you like you’ve been shot by Cupid himself. Who knew an arrow through the heart could feel so good?

The rest of the next 40 or so minutes flew by in a hurricane of lustful glances and drunken introductions set in the brightly dimmed nightclub you found yourself in. Meeting his friends, those 4 guys you kept in mind to be specific. Their names were Jake, who just so happened to be the twin of Josh, (is it bad you’ve always dreamt of having a thing with a set of twins?) and their little brother Sam, accompanied by their friend Danny. And my god were they the epitome of beauty and grace, their suave presence somehow lighting up the dim nightclub. But then the next thing you knew, you were making out with Josh in the back alley waiting for an Uber.

The ride back to his apartment was tense but uneventful in respect of the poor Uber driver who had probably dealt with enough drunk people tonight already. The sexual tension was overflowing from the backseat where you both resided, his hand on your thigh resting ever so gently with all the passion and care in the world.

Then the car stopped, his hand quickly unbuckling your seatbelt for you and grabbing your hand, leading you out onto the sidewalk in front of a lavish apartment building, the ones you see celebrities come out of in staged paparazzi photo shoots. You felt his hand snake around your waist leading you into the lobby encrusted with marble and the stench of rich people wasting money because they can. Who were you about to sleep with? God only knows but you know for a fact you got lucky.

The makeout session in the elevator was heated, so much so that you barely paid attention to the fact the elevator went straight into a hall with only 5 or 6 doors, with Josh leading you down the short hall straight into his apartment, or more so what looked like to be a penthouse. You didn’t get a great look at it though - through the lips on lips and hands and waists it was hard to pay attention to detail.

He broke your kiss in what felt like hours, arguably the best of your life. You’re led into his bedroom quickly, He playfully drags you into the room, pushing you onto the bed. You spread your legs for him, butterflies swirl in your core. You watch as he starts to slow down, pulling his shirt over his head. He puts his knee in between your legs climbing over you on the bed. Your lips collide once more, desperate and lustful. You moan into it, quickly making work of his pants, pulling them down to his thighs. You can feel him through his boxers, already harder than ever. He slides his hand up your thigh, slowing towards the hem of your dress. He stops briefly, “Can I?” you only respond by lifting your hips and starting to pull it off, he stops you and pushes your hips back down with proximity while pulling it off, throwing it somewhere into the dark room, only lit by the moonlight shining in through the ceiling high window.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, all you feel is warmth. Josh’s body presses up against yours again, lips and tongues intertwined making your head spiral, hell you had just met this guy an hour ago. This was way more fun than you thought you’d have tonight. A random man named Josh, his 3 best friends are hot - and you got to meet them, this guy is probably rich as fuck, and my god was he good.

He pulls away briefly losing the shorts and boxers. You can see his tip already red and leaking, he leans over you, continuing a loss you had such a brief moment ago. He reaches down underneath your hips and tears your underwear off, throwing it aside. The hold he has on your hips is strong, a sickeningly lustful feeling going straight to your head. He breaks away, “Do you want me to wear a condom?” he asks, almost breathless. “It’d be nice,” you say, catching your breath as well. He smiles and reaches over you to the nightstand grabbing one and tearing it open and putting it on swiftly. You grab his face, pulling him down to kiss you. Josh laughs through the kiss, his chuckle soon turns into a moan as he kisses down your neck. “Can I fuck you?” is all he manages to breathe out. “God, please.” you moan.

Your gut and head both turn to jelly as he enters you, not too slow, not too hard, and not too fast.

God, he’s good.

You feel the vibrations of his moan on your neck, mixed with the vibrations of yours coming from the same source. You can’t help but let it all out, moans and whimpers and all the beautiful sounds of sex fill up this room. His hips are snapping into yours, picking up the pace, brutally. He leans back, never losing stamina. Josh grips your hips, hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise. He slides up to your upper thighs, pulling them apart while he kneels in front of you, throwing the back of your knees over his shoulders, making a new angle and another powerful sensation. You feel a coil start to form in your midgut, stronger than anything before it. “Fuck, I’m close-” You’re broken off by another moan escaping you by mistake. You watch as his hips snap back into you over and over, his abs are flexing and covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He takes his thumb and rubs it right underneath your clit, right on the sweet spot that drives you insane. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a freight train at top speed. You don’t even realize how loud you moan, a headrush almost making you black out. You ride it out, soon coming to, hearing the pretty sound of Josh moaning and letting a slight whimper escape his pretty lips. “Fuck, baby-” he cuts himself off with a loud moan and the stutter of his hips. You feel the warmness in your gut fill you through the latex. He almost collapses on top of you, forearms pressed on the bed bedside. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, slowly caressing him through his post cum clarity. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you admit, and to be completely honest, it was. That had been the best, let alone the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You feel him laugh a little, his head perking up, eyes locking with yours. “Really?” he breathes out, a chuckle leaving his lips, his pretty, pretty lips. God, he was beautiful. “Yes.” You watch as his eyes, seeing the words go straight to his head. “Why thank you, baby, I’m flattered.” he gives you a quick kiss on the lips, a gentle but beautiful gesture.

He slowly pulls out of you, taking off the condom and tying a knot in it. “I’ll be right back,” he gently pats your thigh as he gets up and heads towards the bathroom. Finally, you get the chance to look around and analyze where you are. It’s still dark, the moonlight shining in was still a good enough source though. His bed lies in the middle of the room. His walls are off-white, with unique artwork that just looks expensive. Goddamn, you hit the gold mine in the crowd of the bar tonight. You suddenly hear the bathroom door open back up, looking over you see his stature in the doorway, backlight by the bathroom light. He walks over and comes back up to you with a damp washcloth. “Do you mind if I clean you up?” He asks gently, his voice so calming you couldn’t help but agree to the kind gesture. He takes the washcloth to your upper thighs, cleaning up the stickiness. Gently, with more precision than ever, he glides it over your cunt, making sure not to overstimulate, while also cleaning you well. “Thank you,” you mutter out, now suddenly a bit shy after all is said and done. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, smiling brightly at you. You watch as he throws the towel in a hamper, turns off the bathroom light, turns back around, and hops back into bed. He offers you to climb under the covers with him, to which you happily oblige.

“Thank you, Josh, this is nice,” you say, making yourself comfortable in his bedsheets. He places a hand on your cheek, leaning on his side to fully lock eyes with you. “Of course, how could I see a beautiful girl like you and not treat her well?” you laugh along with him, thanking him for his kindness. You cuddle into his arms, sleepiness suddenly washing over you. His delightful musk fills your senses, his skin is so soft and gentle. This man is just so…beautiful. And kind. And sweet. And my god you can’t remember the last time, if at all, where you have ever been this happy, especially after hooking up with a guy you met at a bar. Josh brings you in closer, his gentle love lulls you to sleep, as the world around just goes into a comfortable silence.

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gosmigenergy · 3 days

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DRINK AROUND THE WORLD

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After the boys promised to take you to Disney, you and Benny take on the challenge of drinking around the world.

Warnings: Mentions of Food, Mentions of Drink, Alcohol Consumption, Intoxication, Crying, Language, Nickname/Pet Names, No use of Y/N

Rating: Fluff

Word Count: 5.9k

Author’s Notes: Hi, so this felt like it took me forever to write for such a short fic but honestly there’s been some crazy stuff irl, including a family member’s health, that knocked me for six. In the end, I just wanted something wholesome, maybe a little bit silly featuring the boys to make me feel better. Also I’m an absolute lightweight when it comes to drinking so surviving eleven drinks is witchcraft to me!

“Can we start yet?”

You and the boys had been in the park for what feels like a lifetime. Arriving at Epcot early, they insisted on getting on the Guardians of the Galaxy ride before it got too busy, even though it went backwards and you didn’t want to go on it if it went in reverse. Then you wandered aimlessly for a ‘look around’ and yes, the topiaries shaped like characters and other spectacular creations were beautiful to look at but everyone knew why they were really here.

Santiago arched one brow, “You still want to do this, honey?”

You were giddy, the literal manifestation of a kid in Disney World but it wasn’t because you were in line to meet the princesses or about to embark Journey Into Imagination with Figment.

Sighing, he looked at his watch.

He watched the hands change to 1 o’clock exactly and glanced over to Will, who nodded in return.

Santiago pointed a finger at Benny then you then back to Benny.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

Benny nods, his smile widening as he grabs you by the wrist and drags you away. You smile so innocently at Santiago that it pulls at his heartstrings, there was no way in hell you were ready for this.

“You remember your roles?”

He queries Will and Frankie when you’re out of ear shot. How could they forget when Santiago pulled them to one side on the way back to the room last night? They sat by the pool area as he rolled out instructions with military precision. He wanted everyone to have fun, sure, but this was you and there was a strong probability this could go wrong.

“She’ll be fine, Pope, Benny knows her limits.”

“How many drinks has Bunny had in front of us?”

Will’s brows furrowed, the sudden realisation that he’s seen you drink three, maybe four, enough to make you giggly. This was going to be eleven in a row if you make it that far and his brother’s an encourager.

Frankie shrugs, “You make it sound like you’ve never inflicted her with anything.”

“Alcohol is different to that Aphrodite shit, we know that,” Santiago retorted.

“She’ll be fine, brother.”

Will was assuring himself more than Santiago, especially when he saw you and Benny returning with your first drinks.

“What is that?”

“Whatever she ordered,” Benny retorted to Santiago.

Frankie watched as you took the first sip and your expression scrunched.

“Don’t drink it if you don’t like it.”

“It’s not that, it’s just really strong.”

He thrusts out a hand and you pass it to him. Pursing his lips, he takes a sip before delivering a wheezy laugh.

“Jesus Christ.”

Rather than going for the variety of beer on offer, you decided to follow a list you found online. The cocktail you chose was mostly whisky and you’re pretty sure the tender gave you a little extra.

You giggle as he gives it back. Your eye flit to Benny as he tilts his head back to down his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the liquid goes down with ease.

“Don’t you dare.”

You blink at Santiago whose eyes are barely visible behind his sunglasses, however you could picture them perfectly.

“I wasn’t going to,” you say shyly, eyes breaking away.

Rule one was not to try and keep up with Benny.

Before he was a fighter, he had a reputation for being the last one standing at the bar, you would never keep up. The last time he gave you a shot, you immediately grabbed Will and insisted you needed to go home.

Benny finished his drink, “Where to next?”

“I thought we could just follow the route, seems easier.”

Frankie unfurls the map from his pocket, his slopping nose almost in the paper to hide his concern.

“Where are you thinking about getting food?”

“America.”

The noise Frankie made doesn’t make Santiago feel confident, he wonders what was in that cocktail, whether he should have made a rule about not mixing alcohol but that wouldn’t have been fair.

“Wait, where’d they go?”

Will was finishing the end of your drink, “They’re already off to the UK.”

“These two are gonna be the death of me.”

Benny and you were already lined up against the bar when the rest of them caught up.

“I’m not sure you’ll like this one.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever had Guinness before?”

“Once, maybe,” you sounded so unsure.

“Cider?”

“Of course I’ve had cider, Benny, your mum served it to us warm, remember?”

He shook his head, “That’s not the same.”

The bartender slipped over two pints with frothy tops and an almost black liquid that turned golden at the bottom. Benny paid and carried them both to the table that Will had managed to snag in the corner.

You and Benny cheered, clunking the plastic glasses together before taking a drink. You barely swallow before you gag. Frankie stifled a laugh behind his hand, body shaking as Will began to crack.

In France, the five of you sat on the wrought-iron tables by the water, Frankie and Will joining you in having an Orange Slush. Santiago snuck away, reappearing with a croissant, just a little something to keep you going, he said.

He did however join you for a drink in Morocco, where the Iced Mint Tea came with a refreshing, surprising punch. He knew you were getting tipsy, your eyelids were getting heavier, your voice rising a couple of decibels and though your fake boyfriend was Benny, your hands were over all of them.

Frankie discreetly sipped your drink when your back was turned or when Will distracted you.

“She’s doing great,” Benny elbowed Santiago.

“You’re only four drinks in,” he responds flatly. “We’ll see how she’s fairing after number five.”

Drink number five took a while to get to, your fuzzy mind easily succumbing to the attaching store with Japanese merchandise.

“Please can we go in?”

Your eyes became wide and puppy like, your eyelashes fluttering until one of them caved.

“Come on then, sweetheart…”

You squealed, bouncing on your toes as Will stepped forward. You grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his without a care in the world. He simply leaned into it, not caring about the possibility of someone seeing you with him instead of his brother.

“You want a new plushie?”

Your lips skew, “It depends what they have.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

Santiago hoped the shopping trip would be enough for you to get the tiniest bit sober.

Inside, your concentration was short, everything was distracting. You’d jumped from Hello Kitty to Pokemon to Studio Ghibli, from kimonos to tea to candles without making a decision.

“Do you think Santiago would do a face mask?”

Will found you in the beauty section, clinging onto five different types of face masks, inspecting the backs though the words were blurry at the edges.

“I’m sure he’d do one for you.”

Your sigh seems disheartened.

“What’s up, Bunny?”

“Is he mad with me?”

When you didn’t look round, he began to question whether your eyes had got glossy, tears threatening to fall.

“He’s not mad, just… concerned.”

You sigh again, “I want us all to have fun, not just me and Benny.”

He offers you the basket in his hand and you place the face mask carefully in before turning around. There was an understanding that he shared that he didn’t necessarily need to say aloud, Santiago wasn’t the best when plans went astray and he was doing his best to keep everything on track.

“And I know what he’s doing or you’re doing or maybe it’s all of you…”

Will cocks his head as he can see your brain trying to put two and two together, concentration plastered on your face.

“But tell Frankie to buy his own drinks.”

He laughs at your comment, “Anything else?”

“I can’t decide on a plushie.”

“Well, we could just get these and come back when you’re sober.”

You bite your bottom lip, “How bad am I?”

“Getting a little handsy,” he shrugs, it’s why he already put snacks in the basket for later.

Benny checked his phone for the time, you had been gone for almost half an hour and he could feel the chill coming from Santiago’s gaze.

“I’m gonna buy the drinks ready.”

“Make it non-alcoholic.”

“I’m not doing that, she wants to do the challenge, let her do the challenge.”

Santiago didn’t respond as he walked away. When doing your research, you showed Benny the drink you wanted, violet in colour with a light up ice cube and that’s what you were getting.

Frankie waved as he saw you and Will come out of the entrance. Seeing that Benny was missing, you scurry off to find him as Will went to join the others.

“That’s a pretty small bag,” Frankie tipped his head to the bag in Will’s hand.

“I said I’d take her back when she’s sober.”

“So, she knows she’s tipsy?”

“Uh-huh,” Will closes in on them both. “She also knows Frankie should be getting his own drinks.”

Santiago pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that Will didn’t catch, he just knew he was pissed.

“I would actually like that,” Frankie quipped.

“Pope, we’ve dealt with so much more than a drunk girl at a theme park.”

He knew that, Santiago just didn’t like it.

But then he caught you out of the corner of his eye. Clutching a plastic cup, you were beaming at Benny who took your hand to ensure you weren’t led in the opposite direction. You were undeniably happy, dressed for the occasion with a pair of Minnie ears and a spring in your step.

This was the first mini vacation with all of them present and his stomach rolled with guilt at his behaviour.

“Wanna try?”

This was the deciding moment.

He leaned back at first before taking it from your hand. Taking a sip, the sugar hurt his teeth and with a grunt he clutched his jaw.

“Where’s the sake?”

“Oh, so now you want me to have alcohol!”

“As much as you like honey.”

You go to take back the drink except he leans further against the railing, head tipped up with a smug smile. Huffing, you fold your arms and scowl.

“Not until I have another sip.”

By the time you make it to the restaurant in America, you can’t think straight. You’re surrounded by brick walls with blue, red and white fabric handing from the ceiling, patriotic music playing under the hive of screaming kids and constant conversation.

There wasn’t much choice on the menu but your hands started to go clammy when you realised the words didn’t make any sense.

“Benny,” you call his name in a hushed tone, his head hung low like he’s almost fallen asleep. “What are you getting?”

“The burger.”

“Is that on the menu?”

He opens up his hands, “Is it really America if a burger isn’t on the menu?”

Was he always this cryptic?

Will passed his phone along for everyone to make their choices and as the phone got closer to you, you stiffen.

“Bunny,” Frankie waved the phone in front of you.

His lips are parted under his moustache and suddenly that’s all you can focus on, that bottom lip just waiting to be bitten. The knot between his eyebrows tightens and you suddenly realise you’re not talking even though he’s said your name, your actual name.

“Uuuu—“

“She can’t see the menu,” Benny leaned in from behind you, coming into Frankie’s periphery.

Your cheeks grow hot as you press your lips together so hard they disappear.

“I’ll just order what I think you’ll like.”

A plate was placed in front of you and you were grateful Frankie did the ordering because fries topped with macaroni cheese and onion rings would definitely soak up the alcohol churning in your stomach. You also drank water, waiting until you got outside to order a Frozen Mint Julep.

Though the food hadn’t helped as much as you’d prayed it would.

You found yourself pressed between Will and Santiago as you walk, the pair of them keeping you on track to Italy.

As Benny went to get your drink, you looked up at the looming columns, squinting to try and make out the statues at the top, fully believing they weren’t there earlier. A hand came swiftly to your waist, gripping tightly as a shoulder propped your head back.

“Don’t think I’ll be doing that again,” your tongue is loose, the words luckily sounding right.

“You almost lost your ears, Bunny.”

You gasp, “Thank you, Santi!”

It was a poor excuse, he’d admit it but he could see your back arching in such a perfect curve that you were seconds away from hitting the floor. He set the ears firmly back on your head as you gave him a lopsided grin.

Benny returned with another frozen drink for you.

“Another frozen one?”

“They’ve not all been frozen, there was that one you liked… and that other one. Wait, what number am I on?”

“Seven, cariño.”

“So, when are you lot having your next round?”

Benny wrapped his arm around his brother and his best friend, his cheeks pink yet a broad smile set on his face.

“Where are we going next?”

“Germany,” Santiago glanced over his shoulder, holding onto you as you slowly sucked on a straw. Your doe eyes moved from people watching, honing in on his jaw where his stubble was getting longer.

Oh, the urge to touch it.

“I could do with a beer,” Will said.

“Yes, brother!”

It was the point in the drinking marathon where Benny forgot his own strength. The pat on the back he gave Will took the wind out of him and Frankie was almost wrestled to the ground as Benny’s arms locked around his neck.

There was a possibility the five of you could get kicked out of the park. Santiago felt something irritating on his chin, distracting him from what was unfolding.

“You’re getting a beard,” you stroke a fingertip over it.

He hummed, “You like it?”

“I dunno,” you say, eyes narrowing.

Ducking his head, his mouth came to the shell of your ear and you heard the smirk form on his lips.

“You won’t be saying that when you feel it between your thighs.”

The words travel, sinking to the bottom of your belly and something breaks through the alcohol induced fog in your mind.

“Oh.”

“You ready, Bunny?”

Your head snaps round to Benny, his head cocking to one side when he sees your startled expression. Smiling, you slip from Santiago and hold Benny’s outstretched hand. Yet you take a second look, a fleeting glance because you knew you were in danger, not tonight but soon.

“What did you say to her?”

“Nothing, just discussing my beard.”

Frankie grunted, he hated how his friend could grow a beard far better than he ever could.

In Will’s hand was a half serving of grapefruit beer that appeared comically small in comparison to his full one.

“It should have a citrusy flavour,” he says.

The main thing you can taste is beer and you weren’t sure, after the cocktails and slushies this wasn’t the same.

“Chug, chug, chug.”

“Benny, stop it, Santiago told me not to.”

Benny stared at his leader, his green eyes pleading with him. There isn’t a word spoken between them, a series of gestures causing Santiago to cave.

“The rules went out the window three countries ago, honey.”

“And we all know you can swallow.”

Frankie choked, erupting into laughter as Will shook his head.

“Benny, you’re gonna end up in Disney Jail with that mouth.”

He scoffs, “The jail isn’t real.”

“It is!” You almost spill your drink with the sheer enthusiasm of how you slap his chest, “I’ve seen the stories online.”

“They wouldn’t put me in there anyway,” he block his chest with his arms.

“And why’s that?”

There was genuine curiosity in your question.

“Because I look like that guy from the Tron sequel.”

You start to have a fit of giggles, at least Santiago looked enough like Poe Dameron to get hassled by the Stormtroopers at Galaxy’s Edge. The others were chuckling too.

“What?”

“Ten years ago, maybe,” Will countered.

Only his comment made you laugh more, the pain entering your ribs as it hurt to keep a straight face. You weren’t denying that Benny had some resemblance, it was years of being out on the battle field and then being in the ring that made him rougher around the edges. The guy in the film was baby faced or so you can remember.

Benny glared, “Now, you have to chug.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“You hurt my feelings, the only way to make me happy is to chug.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

His one eyebrow raised.

Maybe there was somewhere private the pair of you could go, a hidden away corner, how busy would the bathrooms be? He had to push back the thoughts because he could not be horny in a theme park.

“Don’t give him any options, Bunny, just do it.”

All their eyes fell on you as you brought the rim of the plastic glass to your lips. You tipped it back cautiously at first before tipping your head back and screwing your eyes shut. The pink golden liquid went down all too easily and you heard Benny cheer as the last drop hit your tongue.

When you open your eyes, they’re all beaming at you. A sudden hiccup comes from deep in your chest and you press a hand to where your diaphragm is.

“That sounded like it hurt,” Will’s eyes flitted up and down your frame.

You nod, wincing as another one comes but as he steps forward to check on you, you wave him off.

“It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

The hiccups subside yet they were replaced, you felt lightheaded and your legs were legitimately turning into jelly. Frankie saw you flagging, giving you a helping hand across the bridge to China for drink number nine but you were beginning to regret your decision on the challenge.

You swirled your straw and watched the blueberry boba dance in between the ice. Your one arm was looped into Frankie’s as he slowly guided you to the next country, the other three going on ahead.

“Cariño,” he glanced down, expecting you to look up, “you’ve gone quiet on me.”

With those words, you grind to a halt. It’s like you wait for the other three to fold into the crowds before you break.

“I’m not going to make it, this was such a stupid idea.”

You immediately cover your face and you can’t stop the tears from coming. Frankie went from laid back to full blown military mode the moment your words caught in your throat. He got you away from the oncoming public, finding the nearest, tucked away corner he could spot from his vantage point.

There wasn’t a soul around them.

“Bunny,” his voice was gentle, his fingertips wrapping round the cup. “Look at me.”

Placing the remains of your drink on the wall, he pulls your focus to his face. He holds your cheeks with his broad hands, thumbs catching the tears before they could go any further. He breathed with you, in and out through your noses because that’s the way you’re meant to do it.

You fall so deep into his brown eyes, the park seemed to fade away and you grab his wrists to steady yourself.

“There we go, better?”

You blinked out of your hypnosis, nodding.

“How did yo—“

“Had my fair share of freak outs.”

A soft smile returns to your lips as you try to wipe away the mess that you assume is around your eyes, your makeup may or may not be waterproof.

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

Your teeth graze the flesh on the inside of your cheek as you play with your hands, the straw you’d been fidgeting with taken away.

“When I’ve had this much I usually embarrass myself or throw up or both and that’s not happened yet. Then I know Santiago will judge me and say how he knew this was gonna happen and Will will take pity on me and drag my sick covered front back to the hotel and Benny would laugh and go on about it for weeks…”

Frankie couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, none of them would do that to you.

Ok, Benny would laugh, nervously, because he wouldn’t know how to react and then would go and vomit himself. Will would more than likely take off his shirt and walk around topless if he had to. Santiago would pay a fortune to get a taxi ten minutes out of Epcot or even further, Disney World itself to get you to the comfort of your own bed. Whilst Frankie, he would happily get you back to the hotel room and hold your hair all night whilst you continued to chuck up processed food into the toilet. He’d tap out only to head down to the food hall and pay fucking fifteen dollars for a big carton of fruit to get those vitamins back in your system.

They wouldn’t be embarrassed, they wouldn’t let you be embarrassed and if someone had made you feel that way for having fun and going a little overboard in the past, he wanted to initiate some form of pain to make him feel better. However, his only concern now was the fact you hadn’t taken a breath.

He squeezed your shoulder, a staggering breath from you followed.

“We’d never do that to you, you know that right?”

You splutter out a laugh as you nod your head, your mind was clearly playing tricks on you.

“There’s only two more to go and I kinda owe you a drink.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He puts his thumb back to your cheek and removes the last stray tears before bringing you close. He coils an arm around your back, pressing you into his chest to hear his soothing heartbeat. You could contentedly spend the rest of your time like this but your feet were itching to go.

“I’m gonna finish my boba,” you stretch to grab the cup, “they might help line my stomach.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna help.”

When the pair of you arrive at Norway, you excuse yourself to go and check your reflection, Frankie went and found the others.

“How’s she doing?”

“Just a little bump in the road,” he shrugged as if it was nothing.

In the distance, they heard a cast member call someone out for running and Santiago knew it could only be one person. He caught you speed walking round the corner, waiting until there were no more watchful eyes to continue running.

“We should go and meet Anna and Elsa,” you bang your hands on the table.

“I’m down for that.”

Benny shut his mouth before he expressed that Elsa was hot.

“I’m sure the princesses would prefer to not meet two intoxicated town folk,” Will passed you a pretzel shaped pastry. “Maybe another day.”

Your food is accompanied by a Frozen Viking Coffee because they thought it was a better option than beer, they’d live with the repercussions of you being buzzed.

“Did you get told off for running?”

Santiago had that smug look across his face as the heat in your cheeks rose.

“Maybe.”

Will gave you that smile that makes you soften at the edges and now it was hard to look at either of them.

“I’m getting the next round.”

“You serious, Fish?” Benny got a glint in his eye. “You know Mexico is next and we could finish the day with—“

“We are not having shots.”

“Why not?”

“Everyone’s gotta make it back.”

Benny sighed but then he saw your shimmering, wide eyes looking back at him, the drink they got you going down way too fast. Honestly, he thought you would have been defeated by now, possibly a crying, drunken mess but you weren’t. He was proud of you.

“I’m gonna win,” your words don’t come out that precise.

“Of course you are, Bunny.”

His words are equally as slurred.

There was a novelty in watching you and Benny try to make it to Mexico. The location was obvious, a brown brick pyramid that was a beckon to where you needed to go except you two were going straight past it.

“We’ll head to the bar, you grab them.”

Will nodded, wandering over to the pair of you to an accompanying cheer.

Santiago and Frankie find the most popular bar in the place, by some miracle snatching the last table.

Somehow, the three of you make it inside the pyramid and immediately you comment on how dark it was. Will had your arm hooked in his, his brother refusing help even as he stumbled down the steps. Giggling as you came in, there were drinks already on the table.

“I’m surprised you got them here in one piece.”

“We had a close call.”

Will wouldn’t go into details with Santiago, he didn’t know how he’d handle you falling up the stairs and almost cracking your head on a step if your instincts hadn’t kicked in and saved you.

“Not so fast, we’ve got to cheers first.”

Frankie made sure you took the one luminous green in colour before all five of you clinked your glasses and took a sip. You smacked your lips after to make sure you got the salt from your skin.

“Good?”

“Not as good as yours.”

“You don’t need to flatter me.”

“I’m not lying though,” you wink.

Frankie made the best margaritas, he would host special evenings just to make them, always finding the best bottle of tequila at barbecues. He also never added any fancy ingredients unlike this one, who needs avocado in a drink anyway?

You took your time with this one, sipped carefully and tried to embrace the moment. All of you sat round a table, laughing and joking. Benny had tucked you underneath his arm, pulled you in to lean you against his frame as you play footsie under the table with Will.

“I’m gonna head out for some nachos,” Benny unravels himself from you.

There were glances between Frankie and Will before Frankie suggests joining him.

“I’ve not finished my drink,” you moan.

Benny bent down, cupping one side of your face with his palm. He brings your attention fully to him.

“Don’t rush,” he kissed your cheek sloppily. “I really need to get some food down me.”

Then he crashes his lips into yours with so much force it knocks you back. As him and Frankie walk away, you start to giggle.

“He’s so drunk…”

Santiago chuckles.

“And so am I,” you thrust your arms up.

Will drops his head, smiling, “You ready to head back soon, sweetheart?”

“But what about the show?”

“You’re gonna fall asleep before the show starts, honey. We’re taking you and Benny back to the hotel.”

It was easier said than done.

The moment you stepped outside the pyramid, the fresh air hit you and suddenly came the realisation that you were intoxicated more than you’ve ever been in your lifetime. You freeze at the top of the stairs, the view ahead of you going fuzzy at the edges and there’s two Santiagos and two Wills.

“It’s ok, Bunny,” Will was stretching out his hand and taking one of yours firmly. “Hold onto the handrail.”

There were other sets of eyes on you, those you didn’t know as you shakily held onto the thick wooden rail, cautiously going down each individual step.

“If you make it to where benny and Fish are, I’ll carry you home, yeah?”

You deliver a feeble nod and slowly your feet catch up with what your brain is telling them. Wobbling, you move one foot in front of the other, nails burying into Will’s hand as you hold on for dear life. Frankie was trying not to laugh.

“You’re adorable when you’re drunk.”

“Shut up,” you whine at Benny before taking a chip from his depleted box.

“How are we gonna do this?”

Frankie was worried, it took you almost four minutes to do something that took him a minute.

“Don’t worry, I got this, brother.”

While you were distracted, Will crouched down and squeezed into the gap between you and Benny. Instinctively, Benny moved back as his brother grabbed behind your knees. You flopped forward, protesting as he lifted himself up, your arm ravelling around his neck to stay upright. He forced you a little higher so he could get a better hold before turning to Frankie, who stood with his mouth open.

Santiago shrugged, “I suppose it’ll work.”

“I lost my ears.”

“I’ll get your ears, honey.”

“Don’t stretch them.”

He rolled his eyes, why on earth would he put on neon pink ears with pom pom detailing and a massive yellow bow? They rattled as he picked them up and then he started to shake them like maracas.

“What have you done to them?” You ask accusingly.

“Nothing, you didn’t realise they did that?”

“No,” you throw out a hand, “gimme!”

Santiago stepped back, the corner of his lips curling. Will dug deeper into your thighs as you leaned further to try and nab the ears back. You huffed before giving up the fight, sulking against Will’s shoulder.

Seconds later, Santiago slipped them onto your head.

You don’t know why the boys were making such a fuss, you could have made it to the bus. The driver mentioned how you were all going to miss the show later but Santiago said you’d already had too much fun. You rested your eyes, head relaxing to Benny’s shoulder as he continued to talk and talk, barely making any sense.

“I’m gonna pick up something,” Frankie motioned to reception, leaving Will and Santiago to take care of you.

“Where’s Frankie going?”

“He won’t be long, sweetheart.”

You grumble something incoherently, staggering forward and following the group. They barely got you through the door before you were removing your clothes.

“Fuck, Bunny, at least let me close the door.”

However your mind was focused on getting into bed, pulling off your top and yanking down your jeans. Benny had already thrown himself onto the available queen, arms spread wide, hopeful that you’d join him. You strip to a cute lilac underwear set, thinking this morning that at least one of them would see them.

Benny’s eyes flit up and down, he likes what he sees but as you step wobbling towards him, he’s aware he’s not going to get any action. You crawl and snuggle into his frame with an exasperated sigh.

“Aw, you tired, baby?”

Even in your clouded head, you knew Benny had never called you that before, you blame the alcohol. You respond with a single grunt, eyes already closed.

He envelops your body, lightly touching the areas he hasn’t seen all day. Your sigh comes softer this time, limbs relaxing as you settle your head into the crook of his neck. You note the citrusy undertones of his aftershave as you breathe him in, your final big breath before sleep takes you.

Feeling your weight slump, he kisses you on the cheek and temple just as he gets himself comfy.

When Frankie arrives, the two of you are out for the count, Santiago and Will having snuck onto the balcony.

“How much did that cost you?”

Frankie glanced at the plastic container in his hand, “All my snack credits.”

Santiago scoffed, “Thought you were gonna have a turkey leg.”

“I ain’t eating that shit.”

He’d seen them, they looked questionable, no turkey leg should be that big. Ducking back inside, he placed the fruit in the kitchenette before grabbing himself a drink, joining them to watch the sunset.

Benny’s arm had gone dead and his mouth was dry. He tactfully got himself out from underneath you though he’s sure you’re so far gone, you’ll be out the rest of the night. He unbuttoned his shirt and abandoned it on the bed with his hat, walking unsteadily around the room to find water.

He found a litre bottle and went to the balcony, opening the door a fraction to keep the sound from travelling in.

You don’t know what brought you out of your slumber but the awareness of being on your own was enough to get you out of bed.

“Fuck,” you say, stumbling from the tall bed frame.

Bleary eyed, you blink and wait for the room to come into view. It took a minute or two for you to remember where you were, turning to face a giant painting of Donald Duck with his three nephews on a hike. You decide to freshen your face, wiping off the make up before splashing yourself with cold water.

Picking up Benny’s appropriately themed shirt, you throw it on and then spot Santiago’s sunglasses on the giant chest.

“There she is!”

Your expression scrunches, “Argh, Benny, too much.”

The boys had managed to move the table inside and squeezed all the chairs they could on the balcony.

“There’s some fruit in the kitchenette, let me get it you.”

Frankie climbed over the back of his seat to get out, wrapping his arm around your waist to bring you a fraction closer. His lips meet your temple gently.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and went inside.

“Whose lap you gonna sit on?”

“No offence to Will and Santiago, you’re closest.”

“None taken,” Will was cradling a beer, shoved in the far corner by the railing.

Hooking your leg over the arm of the chair, you bring up the other and settle on Benny. His arm coils around you as he reaches down for the bottle of water and you gladly take it from him.

You gasp as Frankie returns with the carton of fruit, enough to last you the next few days. He hoisted himself back over the chair, settling down once again.

Benny propped his chin on your shoulder, opening his mouth as you pluck some berries from the pack. He sucks the juices from your fingers as you place them in his mouth.

“Can we see the fireworks from here?”

Santiago looks around the group, hoping someone else would admit it, there was no way in hell they were going to pay over a hundred dollars more just to see a bunch of pretty lights.

“Pool side view, sorry, honey.”

He didn’t like to disappoint you but you seemed unfazed.

“They probably want a fortune for it anyway,” you shrug, “and I think I’m ok with the view right here.”

They all groan at how cheesy it sounds, knowing that you were talking about them and not the fake mountainous waterfall down below.

“You’re gonna make Pope throw up, Bunny.”

You shove some fruit in Benny’s mouth to shut him up.

“I’m coming out in hives just being here.”

Rolling your eyes, you allow them to continue with their banter. You’re grateful you didn’t put into words what you were thinking in your head because, sure, people say Disney is the happiest place on earth but you believe here is even happier.

#triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier #triple frontier fluff #santiago garcia #benny miller #will ironhead miller #frankie catfish morales #fluff

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honorhearted · 2 years

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Ben would be a great dad

With all the hate Ben had been forced to endure over the years, it was quite easy for him to forget the love he also harbored -- the love he yearned to one day bestow upon a charming, beautiful wife, which would then earn him the brood of children he dreamt about during his moments of deepest, innermost despair. The idea of what he could have beyond the w.ar sustained him, saved him, and helped to remind himself that he was still human; that he hadn’t fully succumbed to the bowels of darkness.

“I hope I will be,” Ben softly allowed. Unable to lift his gaze from the ground, he smiled and continued, “I had a wonderful teacher in my own father. If I can be half as kind, half as patient, half as loving, then I know I’ll at the very least be on the right path.”

#Anonymous #about ben #//i'm assuming ben probably wasn't supposed to answer #BUT HOW COULD HE NOT? :' )))#i agree though ben!dad is my weakness #i didn't start writing happy endings until this fandom lol #cuz it's like *gives ben 10.000 kids and a happy existence*#i love the scene with ben and sprout cuz it's the first time we see how he'd act around children #i think the slight look of melancholia he gets is cuz he VERY MUCH wants to be a father #but has had to put all his d.esires on hold for the bigger picture #and i imagine he also saw a bit of himself in the boy because of the whole 'your dad and i used to play with these'#so i imagine he was also mourning his own innocence a bit #IDK I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS OKAY? lol #thanks for sending this in! <3

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malkaviian · 1 year

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expanding on the "luca was bullied" thing, because i knew i was going to give this guy some trauma eventually

#oc talk #kinda classic but he was always a shy and soft-spoken guy- and that made him an easy target for bullies who wanted to mess with someone #i imagine it wasn't an everyday thing though; more likely they would let him 'rest' and then suddenly attack #and it could turn very severe. but he never said anything to anyone because he thought it wasn't that bad and that he could handle it #things got worse when he started to be himself though-- he didnt felt comfortable using '''girl''' clothes yet but he would like #use cute stickers on his face or draw stars or hearts under his eye with eyeliner or have pink school supplies-- that type of stuff #so they saw him as even 'weaker' and well the bullying got worse to the point one day he came back home with a bruise #because he was beaten up after school. his dad got worried and immediately talked about with the director but luca was too scared to talk #so he just said it was an one time thing and that he probably deserved it-- alongside saying his pale skin probably made the bruise #look worse than it was; alongside not really specifying who were the ones that did it. honestly the school didnt really cared that much #so they just allowed him to stay at home for a week and then come back. but he was anxious that entire week about the consequences #plus his dad asking several questions about it bc obviously he was extremely worried!! but luca just avoided them all or give vague answers #when he came back not a lot happened in a month-- but he was always on the edge and tried to be as quiet as possible #until one day after school they grabbed him and locked him the boys bathroom; although the original idea was the girls bathroom #just to add an extra. they also told him not to make any noise and he did in fact stayed silent for half an hour #until he realized he was literally all alone and locked in a bathroom stall and started to cry. no one would listen anyway.#to make it short he was about to call someone he was somewhat friends with but his dad called him first as he was getting worried #after an hour passed and he still wasnt home. luca went sometimes to a shopping mall somewhat near the school to get something to eat #but he would always tell his dad about it so he wouldnt worry. and well hearing his son cry on the other side of the screen made it worse #even more bc luca was babbling and couldnt form sentences. after he calmed down a bit though he told him what happened #luckily everything ended up alright and he didnt had to spend the whole night in there but you know. the trauma was now there #and thats why hes claustrophobic now!#bullying tw

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sluttywonwoo · 8 months

Text

collision || h.js

pairing: virgin!fratboy!han jisung x best friend!reader

summary: jisung's fraternity brothers decide to pool their money and surprise him with a stripper for his birthday! nice gesture and all, but that stripper just so happens to be his best friend...

warnings: swearing, a little bit of mention of stigma towards sex workers at the end, smut (18+ ; minors dni)

additional warnings: lap dancing, dry humping

word count: 3k

Jisung’s blood ran cold as he stared at you from the opposite side of the room. A similar look of shock graced your features for a moment but it was quickly replaced by a smile, a fake one if Jisung had ever seen one.

To be fair he had imagined this exact scenario- you in lingerie, standing in the middle of his living room- hundreds of times. But in those fantasies, the room wasn’t also full of a dozen or so of his friends.

When Jisung’s fraternity brothers told him they had a “surprise” for his birthday he knew it couldn’t be anything good but he certainly hadn’t been expecting his best friend to be the hired... entertainment for the party he hadn’t even wanted.

“Should we leave them alone?” Minho, one of the older boys, teases.

“We don’t get to watch?” Jeongin whines.

“Nah, Hannie’s too shy for that.”

“That, and we only bought a private dance because it was the cheapest option,” Chris mutters under his breath, hopefully not loud enough for you to hear.

“Let’s go into the other room, then,” Hyunjin says, finally drawing all of the attention away from you. “The others are waiting for us and we haven’t finished mixing all the drinks yet. The birthday boy can join us later.”

There’s some grumbling as the boys shuffle out of the room but they do make their exit, leaving you alone with Jisung.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Happy birthday?” you offer with an awkward chuckle.

“This is why you couldn’t come tonight?”

“I was going to join later!” you correct him. “But yes, this is why I was going to be late.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you I had to work! I didn’t know it was you!”

“They didn’t... give you my name or anything?” Jisung realizes as he’s speaking that he doesn’t really know how your client intake works. Is there a form they fill out? Or do they just Venmo you and give you an address? Surely not, right? That would be dangerous. There had to be more to it than that.

“They called you ‘Late Bloomer’,” you mutter, staring at the floor. “Said I’d know you when I saw you.”

Jisung’s cheeks burned and he scoffs. “Ironic. Yeah, that’s what the guys call me because they know, um, about...”

“You don’t have to say it!” you blurt. “I already know. That’s a really mean nickname.”

“All the pledges get nicknames like that,” he sighs. “Sometimes they don’t wear off after initiation.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You had taken a couple of steps closer to where he was sitting while you talked but you were still several feet apart.

“Uh, well did you still want me to-”

“No!” Jisung shouts, cringing when he hears himself. “No, oh my god. You don’t have to do that.”

“I mean, it’s what I’m getting paid to do,” you point out. “Do you want your brothers’ money to go to waste?”

“I don’t give a fuck about their money.”

“So you don’t want me to?”

He’s sweating now. He feels it on his brow. “No, no. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

And I don’t want to cum my pants the minute you sit on my lap.

You laugh. “Nothing can be more uncomfortable than what just happened in front of your, uh, friends.”

You had a point. “You don’t think it’ll make things... weird?” Jisung asks.

You shrug. “Things are already weird, aren’t they? But if you don’t want me to, I'll go get dressed and we can join the rest of them at the party.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to!” Jisung clarifies. “I mean, I’ve always been curious about... how your sessions go, like what happens and stuff, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to or that I want you to if that makes sense. Like I don’t want you to think I’m a creep-”

“Jisung.”

“Huh?”

“Instead of a real dance, why don’t I just demonstrate for you? Show you what I do, like you said?”

That didn’t sound too dangerous.

“O-ok. You don’t have to do it on me, though. You can just, like, use a chair?”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Sure.”

There are lots of chairs to choose from but you pick the closest and drag it in front of where Jisung is sitting. You spin it so that the back is facing him and then run to get something from the bag that you’d dropped by the door when you came in.

Jisung tries not to look at your ass as you bend down and rifle through the tote, training his eyes on the ceiling instead. He’d already been struggling not to get hard this whole time and it was about to get a whole lot harder, metaphorically and literally.

You come back with a speaker and set it up on the floor under the chair.

“Usually I put on some music,” you explain. “I’ll sit on the guy’s lap and ask him what he likes to listen to.” You sit sideways on the chair and cross your legs, pretending like there’s a man underneath you. “Whatever he says doesn’t matter to me, though. I just pick whatever I want to dance to and pretend his answer influenced my decision so he feels like he gets to have a say in the matter. Men like to feel special like that.”

Jisung nods along. You look up to check that he’s following before moving on.

“Then I’ll stand back up, like this, and start dancing. Most girls dance in front of them first, to make them want it more. I used to get really self-conscious about that part because it feels silly to me but it really pays off in the end.”

Jisung gulps and nods again. He watches you sink to your knees and arch backward, spreading your thighs wider as your back touches the floor. He had no idea you were so flexible, no idea you could move like that, though he supposes he should have assumed considering you literally do this for a living.

“And then right before I get back on his lap I’ll take off my top. Usually, it’s like a bra or something but sometimes I’m wearing a bodysuit and I’ll just pull it down.”

He doesn’t expect you to actually do it but you do. You reach behind yourself and pull on the ribbon holding the corset you were wearing together until it unravels and you can take it off.

Jisung immediately averts his eyes, going as far as shielding his vision with a hand.

“Oh my god!”

He hears you laughing. “They’re just boobs.”

Yeah, your boobs.

“I thought you wanted me to show you how I usually do it,” you chide.

Jisung hesitantly turns his head to face you again. He stares you right in the eyes, pointedly ignoring everything below your neck. “I didn’t think you would actually, um, strip.”

Your teasing smile falters. “Do you want me to put it back on? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! You don’t have to. I’m not uncomfortable.” You look like you don’t believe him so he adds, “I just wanted to be respectful and stuff, you know?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re sweet. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen me topless before. We’ve known each other for so long.”

Jisung is in so much pain. “Haha, yeah me too.”

You approach the chair and straddle it like you would if someone was actually sitting there. Since there isn’t, you fold your arms on the back of it and rest your chin on your wrists.

“I always lay some ground rules before I start, even if they’re a regular.”

“Ground rules?” Jisung asks.

You nod. “They’re not allowed to touch me whatsoever. I’ll touch them unless they request otherwise, but only on the face and the shoulders, sometimes the chest. I’m not going to grope them or anything like that, even though I am grinding on them.” You demonstrate with the air, pretending to cup someone’s face and bring it closer to yours before pushing them away. “The whole thing is essentially just teasing someone for however long they booked me for.”

“Are there any other rules?” Jisung asks, trying to seem engaged and eager to learn more about your profession instead of focusing on how you’re riding that chair.

“Yeah, one of my biggest rules is that the client has to stay fully clothed the whole time. There are exceptions like if they’re wearing a tie, I might loosen it or undo it. I’ve worn their ties myself once or twice.”

“Has anyone ever, um,” he pauses.

You cock your head to the side in intrigue. “Has anyone ever what?”

“Has anyone ever like, cum? While you’re doing that?”

“It’s happened before. But they usually try not to because they’d have to pay me more. It’s in my contract. It’s also really embarrassing for them and it’s unsanitary- I won’t get into the details but it’s not very common.”

It definitely would have happened to Jisung if he had gone through with it. Honestly, it would probably happen if anyone were to give him a lap dance, but if it was you? He wouldn’t stand a chance.

“But it’s normal for guys to get, like, hard, right?”

“Oh yeah, that’s pretty much guaranteed. Anyone would get turned on if someone was grinding on them. Sometimes it happens before I’m even on their lap, like you’re hard right now and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Wha-” Jisung’s neck snaps as he looks to confirm what he already knows to be true. He rushes to cover the bulge in his pants with his hands even though it’s way too late for that. “Fuck, I didn’t- it doesn’t-”

You brush it off. “Don’t worry, Ji. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to seeing something arousing. It means I’m good at my job.”

“No, but I’m your best friend! God, you must feel so objectified and weird...”

“Jisung, I promise I don’t feel weird or objectified. Is this too weird for you? Do you want to stop?”

“I- uh, I don’t know,” he admits. Obviously he likes what he sees, his hard dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans is proof enough of that. But he’s also never felt so embarrassed in his life. It feels so... wrong of him to be taking advantage of the situation like this. He should have taken up your offer to go join the rest of his brothers at the party because now he’s fucked. He’s a weak, weak man. “Are you sure you’re okay with... it?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “That’s the point of this birthday present anyway.”

Maybe, but it wasn’t supposed to be a present from you. Jisung is so overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions that he can’t even focus on what you’re doing anymore. He zones out, willing his erection to go down until he remembers that he’s supposed to be paying attention. He’s supposed to be learning.

“So I go back and forth between grinding on the guy and dancing in front of him so it doesn’t get too intimate, and then towards the end I usually- fuck, it’s kind of hard to do when there isn’t someone actually here.” He watches you stand up and approach him. “Do you mind if I just....” you trail off expectantly.

Are you asking what Jisung thinks you’re asking? Is whatever it is you’re trying to show him so important that you need to torture him further?

“If you just what?”

“If I sit on your lap for this part? It’ll be quick, I swear.”

“Go ahead,” Jisung says before he can argue with himself.

He had already dug his grave, he might as well bury himself too.

You take a deep breath before placing a hand on each of his shoulders for balance and lowering yourself onto his lap. His legs are spread a bit so they’re kind of awkward to straddle but you’re used to it so it’s easy to adjust.

“Wow, you are hard,” you breathe out, laughing a little.

Jisung wants to die. He takes a deep breath of his own and steels himself before asking, “what was it that you wanted to show me?”

Your eyes light up like you had forgotten why you were sitting on him in the first place. “Oh, right. I put the music on a timer to fade out at the end of the session so when that happens I’ll grab the guy’s face like this,” you take Jisung by the cheeks and squeeze so that he’s forced to open his mouth.

He wonders briefly if you’re about to spit in his mouth but to his disappointment you make him bite down on a piece of paper instead. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and reaches up to pluck whatever it is from between his lips.

“What is this?”

“My business card!” you exclaim. “Smart right? I wanted to do something memorable and so far it’s gotten over fifty percent of my clients to become repeat customers.”

Jisung snorts. “Yeah, it’s definitely that and not the fact that you’re hot and have your tits out.”

“It’s all part of the sell,” you joke.

“Well, I can see why you’re working all the time,” Jisung quips. “You’re very good at what you do.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m just sorry I ruined your birthday present,” you sigh.

Jisung frowns. “What do you mean? You didn’t ruin it.”

“Yeah, I did! If your friends had hired someone else you would have gotten a real lap dance, not... an instructional.”

“I didn’t even know that’s what I was supposed to be getting! I didn’t know they had hired anyone!”

“Still, it could have been fun.”

“No, this was fun. I’m glad it was you.”

The worry line between your eyebrows softens and you smile fondly at him, making Jisung’s stomach do a somersault. Out of everything that had happened tonight, that was what affected him the most.

He doesn’t know how much time passes but suddenly your expression changes. Your gaze shifts from relaxed to focused as you sit up and lean in, closer and closer until your nose is pressed to his. Jisung doesn’t want to speak. He doesn’t want to break the spell. His fists clench and unclench repeatedly at his sides. He’s desperate to touch you, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him, but he won’t break your rule unless you give him permission.

You break it for him, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips.

“Is this okay?” you whisper.

He nods, his forehead knocking against yours. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You swallow hard, eyes searching his for something he isn’t sure he has. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Jisung has fantasized about this moment countless times and not a single one compares to it. Your lips are soft and warm and you taste like that chapstick you always keep in your pocket. Jisung recognizes it immediately because he’s borrowed it more than a few times.

You moan and run a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. It’s gotten a lot longer recently but you seem to like it. In fact, part of the reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you keep complimenting the way he’s been styling it. He wonders if you like how it feels between your fingers.

To his own surprise, Jisung is the first to use tongue. He feels your lips part and uses the opportunity to slide his tongue between them like you had with your business card. You moan again and this time you grind down on his lap for real.

It catches you both off guard. Jisung’s hips follow the movement of yours, chasing your heat even when you lift yourself off of him in a panic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t be,” he murmurs, trying to hide a smug grin, “it’s a perfectly normal reaction.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I guess I deserved that.”

“Mhm- mph!” You kiss him before he can get another word out, this time shoving your tongue in his mouth.

Now that you know it’s okay to grind on him, you don’t hold back. You seem so eager. If Jisung didn’t know better he’d think this had been your plan all along.

“God, baby,” he whimpers, shocked at how shattered his own voice sounds. “This feels so good but if you don’t stop I’m gonna-” he can’t bring himself to say it. “I’m not going to last.”

You slow down and lift your head from the crook of his shoulder. “Do you want to stop?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know how far you’re okay with going but...”

“We can go as far as you want, Ji. You’re the one...” you don’t finish the sentence but Jisung knows what you’re implying. It isn’t hard to guess. It’s why he’d been given that stupid nickname freshman year.

“You’d... you’d want me in that way?” he asks. He’s almost afraid of the answer because he doesn’t think you feel the same way about him. Even if you are down to fuck, he doesn’t think it’s because you have a big giant crush on him like he does you. Maybe you’re just horny or maybe you’d be doing it as a favor.

“Of course.” It’s not an answer that quells the burning questions he’s been holding onto since he met you but it does enough to temper the flames a bit. You want him. It’s enough. “But... you don’t care that your first time would be with a stripper?”

He knows that’s not what you mean. He knows you’re worried that he feels like it’s inorganic. That it’s part of the job you had been hired to do. But he knows the truth. That isn’t what it is at all.

He shakes his head. “My first time would be with my best friend. There’s no one else I’d rather it be with.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#happy birthday sungie <3 #still 18 min left where i am #lmk if you want to read the actual sex part #i wanted to include it in this but ran out of time #collision #stray kids smut #skz smut #han smut #han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung x reader #stray kids x female reader #han x female reader

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bigwishes · 7 months

Text

Pretty Boy's Mistake

Kye was you average university athlete, mainly there to get a degree a generic sports degree to get a job as a personal trainer in the high end gyms, he rarely went to his lecture but always got outstanding grades. It wasn't that he wasn't passionate about sports or health, in fact he had taught himself pretty much everything the university had to offer before he had even gotten there. He was only there for a piece of paper. He spent most of his time in the gym, lifting weights whilst also training some guys on the side for some cash in hand work but he always made sure to put his own workouts first. His body was almost perfect and he loved every inch of it.

Although he wished he could be bigger. He saw some of the guys in the gym, how their tank tops looked like they could burst at any moment. One time he even saw a guys tank split because of an insane chest pump. He loved huge guys, wanted to be fucking huge like them. He would picture his gym crush and how his entire car would bounce and wobble when he squeezed his massive frame inside, he wanted a guy like that in his bed, he wanted to be bigger than that but a body like that would probably take him another 15 years to build and he wanted to enjoy and flaunt that size before he left uni.

Kye was in the gym when he saw a huge lumbering giant walk in. The man looked like a superhero right out of a comic and something possessed Kye out of no where. He followed the huge meathead to the locker room.

Kye stood there seeing the giant block almost all the lockers on a wall his back was so wide and Kye got nervous, a lump formed in his throat and he spat out what he had to say.

"so...how do I get as big as you bro"

the massive dude turned around looking around the locker room checking to see if he was talking to someone else, he let out a thunderous chuckle.

"you talkin to me pretty boy?"

Kye grew red in the face "y-yeah man, look I been lifting for a few years and I really wanna get fucking huge like you man"

"aaa just keep at it guy, youll be massive like mean real soon"

"how old are you?"

"Im 22 bro"

"22!" Kye yelled "bro im almost 23 how the fuck you get so big man, you gotta tell me your secret"

"hmmm, look, you're kinda cute bro so, I'll let you in on a little secret, for a trade of course"

"Anything man, anything, Ive tried everything I know with diet and routine and I'm just not swelling up like other guys are"

"I'll give you my secret if you tell me why you wanna be so big, annnnd, for a date" the large man raise his eyebrow and walked closer to Kye.

Kye's heart started pounded as he imagined what it'd be like to have his skull crushed by the giant bodybuilder's monstrous thighs

"o-okay, ummm, phew, is it hot in here?" kye tripped and stumbled over his words like it was his first time ever talking to a guy.

"so, why you wanna be big pretty boy?"

Suddenly the man had is arms leaning on the doorframe behind Kye forming an arch over him looking down at him.

"eer, well, I-I like size and, I like guys with size and I wanna be big y-ya know" Kye tried to avoid eye contact as the massive brute leaned in

"So you like big guys hey? why don't you keep your lil jock bod, let a mountain like myself have fun with you"

"Because I ain't no bodies bottom bitch, believe me man, if I was as big as you, I'd of already throw you against the wall and you'd be beggin for it"

The massive meat head in front of him bit his lip

"so you promise, once you're as big as me you'll be tossing me around?"

Kye smirked trying to keep up the confident façade

"yeah bro, but gotta warn you, I'm already a catch, once guys see me with arms tearing out of my shirt and my huge muscled fat ass squeezed into tight gym shorts you'll probably have some competition"

"oh I like a cocky meathead"

the man turned around walking back to his gym bag pulling out a small vial of orange fluid, he handed it to kye

"I'm Jason by the way"

"What is this?"

"My secret mixture, drink it man, it'll make you real big...and give you that fat juicy ass you want"

Kye instantly downed the drink and gave Jason a wink.

"Alright, Im gonna go workout man"

"See you tomorrow pretty boy" Jason laughed as Kye walked out.

Kye was stepping into his car, having to stop to catch his breath, he worked harder than he ever had. He knew the vitamin shot he was given wasn't going to do anything but it was at least energising. Kye felt a strange tingling, as the veins on his pelvis swelled with blood pumping downwards. Kye gritted his teeth feeling like he was about to get hard and suddenly he watched as his package swelled and doubled in size in his pants.

Kye jumped in his car feeling his thighs and arms swell. Like his pump was subsiding but his muscles weren't shrinking down to normal size.

He drove home, gritting his teeth and occasionally grunting the entire way.

Kye stepping of of his car feeling his shirt tight around his chest and arms. He let out a tired sigh feeling strange and walked inside. Kye saw himself in the mirror, his shirt tightly pulled across body. He pulled off his shirt seeing his abs slightly stretched out, rubbing his stomach watches his package swell again.

UUUUUGGGGhhhhhh He groaned.

"W-what the fuck is going on"

Kye watches as his bulge swelled outwards in his pants straining against the fabric, as his stomach swelled outwards with it.

"W-WHAT THE FUCK MY, MY ABS"

Kye grabbed his stomach feeling it strain

UUUUUUUGGGGHHHH-UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRPPPPP

Kye let out a painful groan that turned into a belch as tears started to form in his eyes, his perfect 6 pack was gone swelled out like he had been bulking all year round.

Kye couldn't hold back the belches escaping his mouth and with each on his body changed. His arms swelled bigger, his thighs swells bigger.

He watched helplessly in the mirror unable to stop the changes, no matter how hard he pushed his stomach trying to get it to shrink the only thing he managed to do was push out another belch. Kye mercilessly began scratching at his jaw and neck feeling an annoying itch take over. He was too busy watching as his body swelled up to notice the changes in his face. Kye finally looked up from his bloated stomach to see himself, hairy, big and bulky.

"WHAT THE FUCK, I" Kye pinched the side of his waist in disbelief

BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

Kye's massive meaty hand felt is muscled gut vibrate as he belched. Feeling a surge of change again, but he didn't see himself get any bigger in the mirror, he heard a slight ripping noise and looked around. Turning to the side he saw the fabric of his gym shorts tight, torn and ripped over his massive muscular ass. His face turned bright red.

"Oh god..I'm...uuggh I'm like a fat bear"

Kye's stomach grumbled and he made his way to the kitchen poking and patting his gut hoping by some mirecal it would shrink and turn back into a six pack.

Kye sat in the gym locker room trying to hide his new burly body under bagging clothing. Embarrassed and hoping Jason would walk in at any moment. After about an hour Jason walked in.

"H-Hey Jason"

"Oh hey Pretty Boy, hows it feel bein big"

"I" Kye couldn't even finish his sentence before letting out a monstrous belch

"I didn't ask for this"

"yeah you did bro, you wanted to be big"

"AND NOW LOOK AT THIS, WHERE ARE MY ABS IM TUBBY" Kye lifted his shirt and poked at the muscled slab

"Man you aint tubby, you bulky, thick muscle"

"But I wanted my abs bro, I wanted to look like some pro bodybuilder not like some kinda burping werewolf"

Kye rubbed his gut cocking his mouth open belching causing Jason to laugh. Kye's face turned bright red

"Dude stop laughing and fucking do something, uuuggghhh"

"alright bro, quit the complaining I might have something for you"

"Anything is better than this man"

Jason handed Kye a vial filled with bright pink liquid

UUUURpp "so, this'll fix me?"

"Oh man, it'll give you the perfect body"

Kye looked at it suspiciously feeling the concrete wall he had for a stomach. He closed his eyes and downed, a few moments passed and Kye didn't feel much different, when suddenly the familiar sensation rose up from his gut to his throat.

UUUUUHHGG-UUUUUURRRRRPPPP

Kye's eyes widen and his face turned white

"WHA-UUUUUURRRPPPP DID-UUUUURRRRRRPP YOU GIV- UUUURRRPP ME?!"

Kye tried to speak more but he struggled to form a full sentence from his constant belching

"Looking good man" Jason laughed

Kye, felt is rock hard bloated gut and heard the sound of tearing fabric as his muscles bulged out of his shit, soon he was left standing there in the gym locker room in nothing but his underwear.

tumblr

Kye looked at himself in the mirror disappointed by his huge muscle gut, he cocked his mouth open and belched.

Jason let out a booming laugh "bro you look like you take roids and smash 6 protein shakes hourly"

"bro why'd you do this" Kye sheepishly asked

"because you wanted to me big"

"then why not make me like you, why give me this huge gu-UUUUURRP"

"Coz you were cocky, and I find it hot when cocky guys get taken down a peg"

"oh" kye smiled "so now you've gotten you kick I can go back right?"

"nah, you were a pretty boy jock, now you can enjoy being a bulky cunt"

Kye went to walk away from the mirror, hearing his underwear start to rip around is massive muscled ass. That'll teach him to take stuff from strangers in the locker room.

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #gay transformation #tf story #transformation #muscle bear #bear transformation

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httpsghostie · 9 months

Note

ok this is the video i mentioned, like imagine könig in this, i want to tie his hands and feet and make a mess out of him :((( imagine him crying out of frustration that he can't touch you (and he makes a mental note to punish you as soon as he gets released), so overwhelmed and trying to scape the entire time, so cute :(( you make the context, my brain isn't creative enough to think of how we end up in this situation. sorry if i misspelled something and again i love your blog it's amazing !!*:! also i'm sorry if this make you unconfortable somehow idk?

Enemy pt 1

pt 2

TW: porn

and I strike again with another questionable scenario

this is just... I... uhm... well...

there's no such thing as crossing the limits with me I'm a fucking whore

Summary: you interrogate an enemy soldier in a different approach.

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: smut, König x female!reader, they're both a bit crazy, male overstimulation, edging, knife play (if you squint), glove kink, no use of y/n

masterlist

Recently, your team had brought an enemy for interrogation, and you were the one assigned to get the job done.

"Make him talk, we don't care how." They said.

You got in the cell, hands sweating nervously as you saw the man you were dealing with. You've met before, a long while ago, and he didn't change a thing. He's still arrogant, like he wasn't far within a hostile environment, his hands and feet in chains, in a cell that has never seen daylight. The only thing in the room being the chair he was sitting on and a fucked up mattress.

You crossed your arms as you entered the room, not knowing if he was able to recognize you from the mask you wore. But your voice, he could never forget the sweet melody of your voice moaning his name a few years ago when he fucked you senseless at an abandoned house, in the middle of war.

It happened fast, you were sweeping the place and he was there. You missed your shot when he pushed your gun upwards and tried to strangle you, but soon backed down when saw you were a defenseless damsel in distress.

And you found yourself pressed against a wall being fucked by an enemy soldier, just because he felt like it.

You try to shake off the thoughts that creep on your dirty brain, and as soon as the door gets locked behind you, his body relaxes on the chair.

"So, we meet again." He cleared his throat. Pretentious prick.

"König." You start, raising your eyebrows. "I guess you won't be using your free will to tell me what the code is, will you?" You walked towards him, he was still tall, even when he was sunk on the chair with his legs spreaded.

"My free will has better things to do than to hand out codes like candy at a parade. I prefer keeping my secret to myself. Yours too." You could feel the creepy smile that lit up his face. How could you ever do that to yourself?

"They won't believe you." You shrug, slowly walking from side to side on the cell, arms behind your back, your heavy boots hitting the concrete floor. "They're too busy torturing your general for info." His eyes widened and he straightened himself on the chair, tensing up. "So, what are you hiding, pretty boy?"

He flexed his muscles in response, trying to get rid of the chains that kept him restrained. But the praise, coming from your lips, it was impossible for him to contain an enormous wave of heat that destroyed any ounce of self respect he had. He lowered his head, but looked at you through his eyebrows.

"I assume we'll have to do this the hard way then." You took the knife from your belt and stood in front of him, running it along his collarbone and stopping at his chin, lifting it up. "Such a beautiful pair of eyes you got, 'wonder what you hide behind that hood." You say, lifting the fabric of his mask.

"Gonna use flirting as your way to get around this?" He chuckles, looking away.

"I'm offended." You fake a gasp and hold a hand to your chest. "Wasn't that what you did to me?" You're just able to get a laugh from him.

"You wanted that to happen." He looked at your eyes again.

"And you're wanting, too." You stick the knife in the wooden chair between his legs and he jolts in panic.

"Fuck, are you insane?" He looks down and at you again, and you laugh.

You crouch in front of him, spreading his legs further, and laying your elbow on his thigh. The tip of your finger touches the end of your knife and plays with it, watching how his thighs tense.

"I might be." You say, looking at him. "But I always get what I want."

"You're fucking crazy." He chuckles and looks to the sides, trying to contain his embarrassment as a bulge slowly shows up on his pants.

You take the knife from the chair and put it on your belt again, moving your gloved hands towards his belt and pulling him up. He's heavy as fuck, it was almost impossible to do it if he didn't stand up, towering over you.

You pushed him back, and because of his feet tangled in chains, he fell back on the mattress, bucking his hips up as you eagerly unfastened his belt.

"You weren't this straightforward when we first met." He chuckled and looked up.

"What can I say? 'Guess your taste is addictive." You remembered the bitter taste of his release when he ruthlessly fucked your throat back in that house.

You pulled his hard member out, lifting your mask just below your nose to spit on it, and he whines as you wrap your gloved hand around it, jerking it up and down slowly. He pleads, trying to fuck your hand, but you pull away chuckling and he sighs.

"Let's make a deal, shall we?" You ran your finger along his length, stopping at his tip.

"I won't talk." He gritted his teeth.

"Then you won't cum." You give him a sly smile as you pull the mask down again.

Your hand grabs his dick, jerking it roughly, and he can't help but whine as he tries to get away from your touch. He's so desperate it's pathetic, and he moans as you set the pace.

He tries to move, to get away from the chains, he thinks about how bad he wants to be free and pin you down on the mattress and fuck you until you're begging him to stop, knowing he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.

Your touch becomes too much on him, almost too harsh to bear, and he cries as he feels his cock throbbing as hard as it could, knowing that he wouldn't last long if you kept going this way.

And suddenly, as he's about to cum, you pull away again, leaving him whimpering at the sudden loss of contact.

"Fuck, why did you do this?" He whines desperately.

"It's simple, you give me what I want and I'll give you what you want." You shrug, grabbing his member once again and going fast on it. He cries, feeling his high approaching once again.

"I'm not talking." He shakes uncontrollably.

"Aww, stubbornness only turns me on." You say. He's too overwhelmed to think about an answer, trying to get away from your grip.

You feel his body tensing up again, his hips bucking up, chasing his so wanted release. Your hand keeps its pace, but your other one blocks his tip just as he's about to cum, watching his vein twitch. He's crying and cursing at you in german, his heavy balls filled with cum as he was being denied once again.

"Come on, I'm not gonna let go until you tell me, and it's only gonna hurt more." You say, letting his dick fall back to his stomach, and one of your hands grabs his balls. He's still shaking, completely overstimulated, and you use your thighs to make him stay put.

"I only know part of it, alright?" It comes out high pitched as his voice cracks, you could feel the pain in his eyes. "The general too, and your team is going to need more than just us for the full code if you want to stop that damn operation." It's almost impossible to understand his german accent at how fast he speaks, his chest rising up and down.

His cock twitches, his tip was red and leaking, and you decide that's probably all that he's going to say, and plus you needed him for his part of the code.

"That's it, please, maus, it's hurting." He cries. Maybe he deserved to get his award now.

"Such a good boy you are, huh, see? It wasn't hard." You stroke his dick, the praise enough to make him see stars.

As you increase your movements, he becomes a whimpering mess once again, and deep in his brain he's thinking of how pretty you would look with his cock buried in your pussy, and how bad he will ruin you once he has his hands on you.

It's too much to take, he's trembling, making it hard for you to keep him still. And he can't hold back any longer, his thick cum spouting on your gloves and his shirt.

"Maus, please, stop." He pleads, his body giving in. You clean your gloves on his clothed thighs and get up, leaving him there, covered in white. You stand there, looking down at him and his softening length, and slowly walk towards the door. "Where are you going? Don't leave me like this."

You knock two times on the door and one of your men unlocks it. You open it, looking back at König, still there, still messy, still panting and angry, spitting out as you leave.

"You're gonna pay for this."

#cod mw2 #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #konig x reader #konig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig mwii #könig smut #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #könig mw2 #könig call of duty

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pumpkinbxtch · 12 days

Text

— two people, one umbrella ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° headcanons

the hoO boys when starts to rain and there's just one umbrella. ft. apollo

who's here: frank zhang, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson and apollo

warnings: none

a/n: its friday, so headcanons arrives here. kisses for y'all. enjoy.

— frank *⁠.⁠✧

This guy doesn't hesitate for a second, he's got you covered with the umbrella, most (if not all) of it.

"I don't want you getting sick," he says while holding the umbrella.

He's so tall he doesn't need to raise it any higher than necessary, and you keep pushing it toward the center so each of you gets at least a little covered.

He might pretend he's covered, but his shoulder is getting terribly soaked.

He's thinking about the shape-shift, imagining what it would be like if you had a canary on your shoulder while walking in the dry, safe rain.

But in the end, he obeys you. He takes your hand and tries to cover both of you (because he thought he might get sick, then you'd want to help him, and he doesn't want to bother you).

— jason *⁠.⁠✧

Once the umbrella is fully open, he figures out the best way for both of you to be covered, always putting you first in his mind.

He moves you in front of him, but he can see you might trip.

He considers just covering you, but he knows you'd both end up fighting and getting wet anyway.

So, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Now, you're both under the umbrella, dry.

He smiles at you and takes advantage of the closeness to kiss your cheek and your knuckles.

“let me, my love” he says soflty if you try to help him with the umbrella.

He's the type to hold your hand and tuck it into his jacket to keep you warm.

Another thing he could do is control the air so the umbrella holds itself up and you can walk together even more comfortably.

— leo *⁠.⁠✧

"I already anticipated that!" he exclaimed when he saw that both of you weren't completely covered by the umbrella he was carrying and smiled eagerly at you.

He presses a button on the umbrella's handle and it expands even more, Hurray! You're both covered.

But...

As you continue walking on the sidewalk, Leo looks at other couples in similar positions, only much closer, cuddling and lovingly playing around, while the umbrella with the improvements he invented works so well that you even walk a bit away from him.

Oh no... :(

He wants to do those cheesy things with you too, and he plays the fool.

If a child of Hephaestus can fix something, they can also break it, so he presses the button too hard, for breaking it. The extra space is gone.

"What happened?" you ask confused, some drops start to wet your hair, and Leo smiles seeing how beautiful the dew looks on you,

he just shrugs "I don't know, I guess it doesn't work anymore" he says uninterestedly, and he pulls you to him impatiently,

definitely using some of his warmth so you don't get cold.

He adjusts himself, hugs you, and you walk together.

— percy *⁠.⁠✧

He literally gives a fuck if it rains or not, so the problem is, he never carries an umbrella.

But that's because he can control his waterproofing. If Percy Jackson doesn't want to get wet, he won't, but you're not him.

"Don't worry, babe," he says with a confident smile as you cover yourself with your hand from the increasingly heavy rain.

He bites his lips and looks above you, now the rain avoids you both, and you're no longer getting wet.

He winks at you, and you hug him sideways. Let the mist take care of what others see, and he leans in for a kiss. You give it to him.

suddenly feeling the drops hitting your hair again. For a few seconds, neither of you cares, and he hugs you, prolonging the kiss.

A kiss in the rain.

When the water trickles down your noses and you can taste some of those drops, you break apart with a giggle.

"Oops," he says, and he focuses again to keep you both rain-free.

Though you run to get home as soon as possible because for Percy, it's hard not to want to stop and kiss and cuddle you.

— apollo *⁠.⁠✧

He's a god, and the god of the Sun. He could literally make a few calls to get rid of that silly rain bothering his beloved.

But oh no, Apollo lives for the drama, for love, it's for the feelings he exist, so he conjures up an umbrella and covers you.

Apollo will definitely sing "Singing in the Rain" while dragging you along and giving you gentle spins.

For him, it's such a mundane moment, but because he's with you, he wants to turn it into the greatest musical ever told, because it's for the two of you and for him, it's better.

He takes your hand and swings it with great humor.

He's literally a sun walking on the streets full of people grumpy because of the bad weather and a gray, cloudy landscape.

When he sees you smile and chuckle, his spirit overflows with joy, and unintentionally, the sun appears among those clouds, and the rainbow makes a nice trio in the sky.

He gives you a peck on the lips when you raise your eyebrows at his mischief.

"I can't help it," he says with a smile and links your arm with his to continue the walk.

*⁠.⁠✧

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sy-on-boy · 4 months

Text

"Anya, are you... feeling okay?"

Anya stared at Becky with with big, blank, buggy eyes. "I don't understand," she said in a monotone.

Becky squinted at Anya. Anya was usually weird, but Becky knew her well enough to discern Anya's different types of weirdness. "Are you trying to be like Damian's creepy older brother?"

Ewen and Emile heard and quickly turned around to defend their best friend's brother. "Oy, don't insult Demetrius!" "He's not creepy, he's a genius! His mind operates at levels we cannot understand!"

"You guys are talking about my brother?" Damian's voice came. "What's all this fuss?"

Becky sighed, then deadpanned, "I think Anya's trying to be like your brother. For some reason."

Damian jumped and instantly scowled. Anya continued to silently stare at Damian with her buggy eyes. Damian backed away, weirded out (and oddly jealous) by Anya imitating his own brother. "Ugh, what's wrong with you, Forger?" he spluttered out, cheeks turning pink.

Upon seeing Damian's distaste, Anya blinked, dropped the act, and looked normal again. "Super Sy-on boy is a genius so I'm going to be like him until I become a genius. I wanna get stella stars like Super Sy-on boy."

"But Bossman also has stella stars," Ewen said innocently.

"But Super Sy-on boy has more stella stars," Anya interjected just as innocently. Damian's face instantly darkened.

Becky noticed and nudged Anya. "You didn't have to rub it in his face!" she hissed to Anya.

"Rub what in Sy-on boy's face?" Anya might not understand the saying, but now she knew she shouldn't had compared Damian with Demetrius even if it was unintentional. Anya gulped and nervously glanced at Damian, who was looking solemn and suddenly older than he was.

"Of course my brother is always better at everything. Even an idiot like her can see it. I don't like how she's imitating Demetrius (hah, a commoner like her would never come close to us Desmonds) but I see her point. Maybe I should be more like Demetrius too..."

Anya blinked. Becky's earlier words of "rub it in his face" came back to her. Face, face... Sy-on boy's face? In her mind, she superimposed Demetrius' buggy eyes and slicked back hair on top of Damian's. Hmph, a bit off-putting, but this was actually fine because Damian still looked stupid and snot-faced as he always did.

But then Anya imagined Demetrius' complete lack of expression on Damian— no more taunts, no more temper tantrums, no more of his silly red faces, but also no more smiles, no more tears, no more of that unadulterated fear she saw during the bus hyjacking, no more of that determined face of his when he shielded her from the dodgeball, no more of Damian being his annoying, crybaby, sometimes heroic self. A Damian with barely any thoughts. A Damian who didn't understand people and didn't bother with anything at all. No more Sy-on boy being Sy-on boy.

... And Anya didn't think she liked that.

"You don't have to be like Super Sy-on boy," Anya blurted out. She felt bad for making Damian feel down earlier, because she was supposed to be friends with him, and friends didn't make each other feel bad.

Damian looked at her, bewildered and somewhat taken aback. "Huh??"

What Anya thought was "your mom is weird and your brother is weird and your dad is an evil super boss. You're a jerk sometimes but you're not weird like they are, and I feel bad for you", but obviously she couldn't say that, so she simply said, "Sy-on boy is Sy-on boy. You're not Super Sy-on boy and you don't have to be like him (because I need to read your mind for the mission)."

Damian blinked, his heart warmed by Anya's unexpected sincerity. Anya wanted him to be himself? And not like his brother? She... didn't expect that from him?

Becky, intuitive as always, chimed in. "Damian, you're a bit of a brat, but don't turn into a creep like your brother."

Damian scowled. "My brother's not a creep!!"

"I'm just making a honest statement! It's for your own good!"

Anya stepped aside to let Becky and Damian bicker. Her eyes flitted over to Damian— Damian without those buggy eyes, Damian with long eyelashes, Damian with anger and scowls, Damian with thoughts and feelings and fears and likes and affection.

Then she thought of Damian's mother and brother with the odd, mysterious, and almost chilling darkness in their heads. In some way, Demetrius' apathy was easier to stomach than Melinda's tornado of chaotic and contradictory thoughts, but both of them threw her off. Damian, despite being Damian, despite being the son of the evil boss, was still... relatively normal. He smiled. He loved his dog. He was protective of his friends. He wanted stella stars. He threw temper tantrums. He wanted his family to love him. (He was scared of being abandoned.) Despite everything, Damian was still like Anya.

... Yeah. Anya hoped Sy-on boy would stay Sy-on boy for as long as he could.

#spy x family #damianya #damian desmond #anya forger #spy x family spoilers #fic snippets #<3 #quick little fic

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russellsppttemplates · 7 days

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We can all agree that our little gremlin boy Lan has a big head, don't we? Like we love him, he's cute(hot af too), but boy was blessed with a big head 😅 so I just had the funniest scene of his wife complaining to him about his big head while drowned in hormones when she's pregnant with Tilly. Like really complaining, but laughing at the same time, and maybe his sisters or max and P are cackling while he tries not to laugh too much not to hurt her feelings,but they all end up having a laughing fit together 😆

Note: when I was a baby, my head was so big that I had to get a series of tests and scans to rule out any problems! In the doctor's words, fortunately, the only problem I would have was finding a hat that fits! So I relate to this very much - also, absolutely agree with all you've said!

Cw: reader is pregnant

The annual Norris family summer vacation was well underway by the time you decided which days you wanted to spend on the boat, Oliver and Savannah staying inside with the girls along with Adam and Cisca who decided they would make lunch for everyone.

"Do you know what I have just realised?", you spoke to Flo as you both watched Lando and Cisca's boyfriend jump into the water, "your brother has a massive head - like, it's really big, specially when you compare to Max's", you pointed to your husband's best friend.

That morning, you cried about the fact that your bikini dug on your hips only for Lando to tell you that you hadn't tired the sides properly and that you had more than enough room to accommodate your growing body, so right now this was a way better way to deal with the rush of hormones you were having.

"I think we all do, to be fair - Cisca has the smalled one I guess", Flo squinted as she looked at her sister who walked closer to you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?", Cisca wondered.

"I've just realised how big your brother's head is and how I'm probably going to be split apart when this little girl - little body but surely a big head - joins us", you rubbed your bump as tears formed in your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N, my friends have had babies with big heads and they're fine", Pietra offered, "they were just fine", she said before waving at Max so him and Lando could come to the rescue.

"I don't know why I'm crying, which makes this even worse - Goodness", you wiped your eyes and chuckled, "I can feel her head, it's about here from what I remember from the scans - and it's big, like, really big! How is that going to work?", you blurted.

"What's the matter? Is everything alright? Y/N, are you good? Is it Tilly?", Lando asked worriedly as he saw you break into a fit of giggles and seeing the girls fight their laughter a bit before joining.

"The matter is that you have a big head and Tilly's will also be big", you explained, "I'm not the tiniest person ever, so there's definitely room but can you imagine? I have to ask your mother how big your head was when you were born because I feel like I need to do prep work for it", you mused, "it's all natural until you decide to have a kid with the guy who has a big head".

"Oh, Y/N has gone dark", Max muttered, earning himself a swat on his forehead from Pietra, "what? Did I lie?", he hissed, containing his laughter.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to do here, my love", Lando admitted, sitting next to you and attempting to squeeze your thigh lovingly, knowing the affectionate gesture could go both ways.

"Our baby is making me feel like I have the emotional and cognitive skills of a toddler", you mumbled as you cuddled your husband, supporting your bump with a pillow Flo got for you as you both layed down.

"It's okay, Y/N, I don't mind having to reason with you - we'll consider this practice for when we have our little one, okay beautiful?", Lando kissed your forehead.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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clairegregoryau · 6 months

Text

Through the Looking Glass

From fairytale in Season 1 to stark reality in Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death- meta ported across from this Twitter thread by popular demand!

This thread contains spoilers for the entirety of OFMD Season 2

First OFMD S1 rewatch since S2, and holy shit, if you haven't done that yet... do that. A thing that it made instantly clear: they told us *all along* where this was going, but there was a reason we didn't see it. Because we were living in Stede's world then. Now it's Ed's.

I know that a lot of us have felt that the tone shift at the end of S2 was... jarring, compared to what's come before. This felt like a show that wouldn't go there. One where being run through was a temporary hiccup. We've travelled all the way from this to this.

But we haven't jumped there without a journey in between. And from the minute we started hearing about Blackbeard, the show never tried to hide what Ed's world and his specific life was like. Not once. In fact they told us over and over and over.

But Season 1 told us a lot of those things through song and story and fuckery. It blended reality with fiction.

Stede met the Blackbeard he knew through books and tall tales, and the real man was even more wonderful than he'd imagined.

We, along with Stede, were comfortable thinking that all those other tales were exaggerations and misrepresentations, and a lot of them very likely were.

The Ed Stede got to know was a person who was capable of whimsy and silliness and loved soft things and doing something weird. Yep, he was also capable of violence and rage, but when he was with Stede, he didn't feel it so much.

This was a vacation from that life.

To Stede he was absolutely lovely... oh, and also a bloodthirsty killer. And Stede loved (and loves) everything about him, and both of those things can be true. This is a perfect example of a spot where (in watching Season 1 without the benefit of hindsight) I assumed that everyone else in that pub was wrong, and Stede was simply trying to protect Ed's fearsome reputation by agreeing on the bloodthirsty bits. And I think from Stede's perspective that was largely true. I think that's how they wanted us to see Ed, through his eyes. Now, after watching both seasons, I think it wasn't the whole picture.

They told us, we heard it, we saw glimpses of it. But we (and Ed) were in Stede's run-away-to-sea fairytale the whole time. It wasn't until Stede left that we saw the reality- the Ed we knew had been, to a degree, a fictional character all along. I always saw this scene as Ed putting a bit of distance between himself and reality; it always felt like the Blackbeard of Stede's storybooks was the fictional one. But now it feels like the softer Ed that Stede knew was much the same- neither of them the whole story of who Ed was and is.

The one person who refused to live in Stede's fairytale was Izzy. I've seen people say it before, but he always gave off that vibe of the only human in the Muppets movie, or the guy who was in Black Sails while everyone else was in Pirates of the Caribbean. He saw the real risks clearly.

And in that light, the end of S1 has shifted an inch to the left for me, and I'm seeing it at a slightly different angle.

Izzy ripped away the healing Ed was doing, but in some respects he did it by tearing away the fairytale we'd all been living in, shoving Ed back into the Blackbeard story.

And that's where we pick up again in Season 2.

The fairytale reference came back in S2 in two notable places, those being Jim carrying that legacy forward in the darkest times, and in Izzy invoking the wooden boy against Ricky's efforts. Stede's made himself into a real boy. Ricky, nope.

Now that I've watched both seasons together, the tone shift doesn't feel so jarring at all, actually.

It feels like sliding through the looking glass, out of Stede's world, and into Ed's- a world that existed all along; we were just seeing it, la vie en rose, through Stede's eyes.

At the beginning of S2, Stede's gone, and we're seeing it unfiltered through Ed's reality.

But Stede wasn't lying when he said he loved everything about Ed. He made a promise to come back and find him- he went down into Ed's darkest place and reminded him that no matter how bad things got, there WAS someone waiting for him, ready to love him.

The contrast between S1's fantasy and S2's reality (excluding mermaids and actual bird guys and cursed coats) is stark, but it really is that.

We have the same settings, the same people, and very different ideas and outcomes at different times.

But it was always there.

Things do come back to a state of (precarious) balance once they're all together. Apologies are made, whether they're spoken out loud or through actions. Things go right, things go wrong. Healing happens. Izzy continues to have the steadiest, most real through-line in the story as he tracks toward redemption, finds acceptance, and to an extent finds himself.

Once again, I hate that they went here with the ending and I wish they hadn't. But it got a fraction easier for me looking at it not as a continuation of Stede's fairytale, but of the grounded-in-pirate-reality arc Izzy was always on, even while we lived in Stede's world.

Where does that leave us? We're not going back to the fairytale, but we're not going to be living in Black Sails for S3, either. We've hit a fusion point where S1 ended with each of them going to separate, miserable homes, but S2 ended with them in the same place, ready and willing to make a go of it.

Season 3 is going to give us their world, together.

I LOVED the moments in this season where the deep emotions were in balance with the silliness I've always adored about this show. Eps4-6 were wonderful like that. Clearly we're not done with drama, either, but like Ed and Stede, I think we'll find a middle ground.

Anyway in conclusion, a rewatch of S1 after S2 somehow made me love the first season even more, which felt impossible? It's now gained /even more/ layers of depth than it had before. No matter how you feel about S2 I think it's worth that rewatch.

Adding one more bit of clarity for myself: I think we got a bit (intentionally) seduced in S1 by the idea that the Ed of the storybooks, the Vampire Viking Clown with the nine guns, was a version of him that others saw, when Stede saw the REAL person who 'worked' for Blackbeard.

In hindsight I think it's clear the Ed Stede go to know was also not the complete version of himself- the reality is, there's a whole spectrum between the two, and they've landed in the middle of it now. Ed intentionally leaned into the unlovable Kraken image to protect himself.

It very much didn't work, just like being just... Edward hadn't worked to protect himself, either. This season has been very much about pulling those two extremes together and finding all the parts that make up Ed overall (another thread on that here on Twitter, which I'll also shift across to Tumblr soon!)

And I think one of my favourite things in S2 has been seeing the way Stede SEES that- he knows what Ed's done, everyone's told him, but he still loves Ed. sees his trauma and how it affects him, and believes he's a good man regardless. He IS lovable; he's not forever broken.

And together, they can heal.

#ofmd #our flag means death #gay pirates #ofmd meta #unreliable narrators #fantasy vs reality #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers

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jingsyuans · 11 months

Text

☆彡.。.:* “and who takes care of you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I take care of me.”

-> jing yuan & pregnant!reader (gn, afab body)

headcanons & snippets : very long post I don’t have the wordcount because I wrote it on tumblr </3

a/n: i am simple and small and love meetcutes but also imagining the idea of the character meeting a reader who’s a single parent lol

When Jing Yuan first met you, it was, of course, by pure luck. Everyone needs to go grocery shopping, even the general. And with Yanqing effectively eating into his budget, Jing Yuan is forced to look at prices a bit more carefully than normal.

It’s not just about the money that’s spent, but also about discipline. Jing Yuan reasons that if Yanqing eats into all his allowance and can’t afford his own food, then he cannot just let the boy starve. But he cannot spoil him with lavish food, either. So Jing Yuan goes to the market with this goal in mind.

That’s when he spots you. It’s not exactly busy on the streets but it isn’t barren either, so Jing Yuan cannot fully explain why he saw you in the midst of the crowd. Perhaps your obvious condition caught his attention, along with the way you were carefully trying to bend over, kneel, squat, and various other attempts to try and get the apple on the ground.

It didn’t take much thought to stride over to where you were, wordlessly picking up the fruit and dusting it off on his chest. You audibly huff- not out of aggravation, it sounded more like relief as you slowly straightened your back with your hands on your belly.

“Thank you,” you say first, and then your eyes meet his and the surprise on your face is obvious. “Ah! General Jing Yuan!”

He cannot help but chuckle, handing the apple to you after assessing it isn’t bruised. “Yes, that is my name. But you do not work for me, so there’s no need for formalities.”

“Oh, well… still, thank you.” Taking the apple, you place it in the sack you carry full of other fruits and veggies alike. “Soon enough I’ll be able to do simple things like picking up my own groceries again. That’ll be nice.”

“You do look far along,” Jing Yuan comments, eyes dropping to your belly. “Do you not have anyone else to help you with groceries? I don’t want to assume, but usually I hear about how your feet can be sore at this period and walking around too much can be exhausting.”

You laugh- not exactly merrily, a bit more dry than he was expecting. “Right on both accounts! Yes, my feet are… rather sore. But I have to get used to it. There’s no one but me.” You seem to be fine, as lonely as your statement sounds.

And Jing Yuan assesses a few things in this moment.

Whoever you are, you’re on the last stretch of your pregnancy and you are doing everything by yourself. There’s obvious exhaustion in your features which means this is no easy feat and it’s wearing you down, which cannot be good not only for someone who’s pregnant but also someone who’s about to be a parent and needs all the rest they can get before the baby arrives. You seem to be resigned to your fate.

So, Jing Yuan makes a decision.

It starts with this shopping trip. He’s suave and charming as he takes the bag of goods out of your hands, smiling all the while he makes himself your new shopping buddy.

You’re reluctant at first, embarrassed, because surely someone so important doesn’t need to go out of their way to help you. But even you can’t deny that it’s insanely helpful when he reaches for groceries you need that are conveniently on the highest shelf- you wouldn’t have been able to get those things on your own.

You’re pretty quiet at first, but once Jing Yuan opens up to you about why he’s shopping and the difficulties he’s having with Yanqing- it gives the two of you a modicum of common ground.

Jing Yuan doesn’t seem to consider himself Yanqing’s father, but you can tell the instinct of one is there. The way he talks about his disciple is clear enough.

You give him a few bits of advice on how you’d personally go with disciplining him as well as rewarding him. You dont expect him to really do the things you say, but unknown to you, Jing Yuan takes mental note of everything.

Once the groceries are well done and bought, you’d think that the interaction would end here. But Jing Yuan is never one to leave a job unfinished, and he simply continues to walk by your side with your groceries in hand once the two of you leave the market. You come to realize yourself that he’s planning on accompanying you all the way home.

You don’t argue this time. You’re flattered and happy and willing to take advantage of his help now. Talking to the general was surprisingly easy once you got over the initial shock of it all.

You do underestimate him though. By the time you’ve made it back to your little home (which you’re also embarrassed by, sure that Jing Yuan probably lives somewhere with a lot more space and design, but this is what you have), your feet are aching and Jing Yuan must have noticed the way you’ve slowed during the walk back.

At the door, you’re ready to grab your groceries from him. But when you lift up your hands, he’s looking down at you, a soft pout on his lips that utterly surprises you.

“Let me put them away,” he offers, pout shifting into another easy smile. His tone is firm nevertheless. “You’re tired and need your rest. Sit down and I’ll take care of it.”

This is surely too much. But when you try to argue, it’s as if the man isn’t listening at all. He opens your door and enters your house like it’s his own! Leaving you staring and dumbstruck in your own doorway.

It doesn’t help that Jing Yuan flawlessly navigates your little kitchenette as if he’s always been here. The image of him blending into your home is strange and alien, but there’s not much you can do. You simply sit in your favorite chair and watch him until your eyes start to droop, and before you realize what’s happening, you fall asleep

And … when you wake, dinner is ready for you in Tupperware in the fridge along with a note.

It’s Jing Yuan’s handwriting. Telling you to take care of yourself and your little one, and a number for you to call if you ever need a helping hand

( part of you really thought it was his personal number, but once you gather the guts to call it, you realize it’s the number to his assistant. You could still get in touch with him this way, but you end up always asking for a knight to come to your aid instead, much too anxious to ask for the general personally )

You end up seeing Jing Yuan a few more times during the tail end of your pregnancy. Once during a walk in the gardens, another time when you were going out for tea, and then another, more vulnerable time, out in the gardens again but much later at night— fear shaking you to your core as you cried alone on one of the benches.

It’s impossible he would find you at such a time. But apparently the two of you shared your thinking spot-

(And you wouldn’t find out until later that these gardens were right next to where he lived, right in the tall building nearby that you’d always looked at in awe and wondered who lived there)

Scared, anxious, and oh-so lonely, you couldn’t help but cry to him when he offered his arms. How were you going to take care of a child all alone? What if you got angry and hurt it? What if you left it alone for too long? What if you coddled it too much and stunted it’s development that way?

There were so many things you could do wrong and you were convinced that you’d do them all.

“Of course you’re scared,” Jing Yuan would sigh in your ear, arms wrapped around you. The size of your belly makes embraces while sitting down a bit more awkward than usual, so he settles for one arm wrapped around your back, another gently stroking your belly. You’d told him once that it was alright if he wanted to touch- and he couldn’t really explain it- but he did want to. There was something about it that was so intimate and comforting despite the fact the two of you were still getting to know eachother. “It’s rational to be scared. You’re life is about to change in so many wonderful ways, and on the precipice, it feels like falling off a cliff. Predictability has been thrown out the window. But there are still many things under your control.”

“You can control the love and care the baby will have,” his voice is soothing and gentle, continuously lulling your anxiety to a slow, “the safe environment that it will grow in. Introducing it into a world of kindness.”

And though he isn’t nearly finished, your body is shaking under his touch. For a moment, he fears he somehow made things worse, before he hears the delightful sound of your laughter. He cannot help but lean back, eyes wide and a confused smile on his lips. “What is it?” Did he say something funny? While it wasn’t his intention, at least you weren’t crying anymore.

“You-“ you giggle, wiping your tears with your wrist, “my baby isn’t an it. You keep saying ‘it’.”

“Oh.” Jing Yuan chuckles, a slight embarrassment over his mishap making his cheeks flush just barely. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s- haha- it’s alright.” Not for the first time, Jing Yuan is rendered speechless. By you, your absolute beauty. It’s all he can do to simply sit and stare at you, taking in every delightful crinkle of your face and the sparkle in your eye (though you were still crying a little; maybe that’s why). “Jing Yuan…” suddenly, you maneuver slightly, taking his hands in yours with a smile. “Thank you. For all your help. I think… it would make me and my daughter very happy if you could find time to visit us again once she’s born. If you’re able to find the time.” You sigh. “I would love for her to meet you.”

Yes, it isn’t until then, warmth filling his chest and fluttering his heart that Jing Yuan realizes that he is so utterly in love with you. And he has been for awhile. Each of your meetings took a special place in his heart, something he unknowingly looked forward to every time.

Suffice it to say- there isn’t anything that would get in his way from meeting you again. You and your baby girl.

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan reader insert #x reader #reader insert #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #headcanons #baby AU

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Text

Wayne loved Eddie more than anything else in this world. That kid was his son, sister and her shit husband be damned, and he had been for almost eight years now.Wayne would do just about anything for that kid, and he liked to think that Eddie knew that by now, so he couldn't quite understand why he was trying to hide something so obvious.

That being whatever was going on between him and the Harrington boy.

The two had been attached at the hip for months, and while Eddie was no stranger to having friends, having one that slept in his bed nearly every night was certainly new. And if that wasn’t a dead giveaway to what was really going on, then all of the touching sure would have been. He had never seen his boy be so tactile with someone before, and that was saying something considering how freely Eddie liked to give out touch. But with Steve? It was like he couldn’t go five minutes without being all over him, whether that be an arm draped around his shoulders, a hand on his thigh, or pressed against his side, if Steve was within arms length, then Eddie was reaching for him.

At first, Wayne worried he was keeping quiet because he was scared of his reaction, but he had been more than clear with Eddie growing up that being different in any way was nothing to be ashamed of, despite what the world may tell you. And Eddie seemed to be living up to that advice in every other aspect of his life, so that couldn't be it.

Then, he thought it was because he knew Wayne didn't like Steve. Or at least used to not like Steve. In hindsight, he was a little ashamed of his mistrust of the kid, but could he really be blamed? It wasn't so long ago that Steve Harrington was on the list of jackasses Eddie would complain about after school, a smarmy smartass just like his father.

But then Eddie went up and almost died, and suddenly Wayne was met face to face with just how much the kid had changed, and just how much the kid loved his Eddie. Slowly but surely, Steve wiggled his way into his good graces.

Like the way he made his boy smile wasn't enough, the kid basically became a live-in nurse during those first few awful months of Eddie’s recovery. And if Wayne thought Eddie was obvious with his feelings, Steve was on a whole other level. The kid was walking around with heart eyes whenever Eddie was around, always giggling like a high-school girl at whatever lame jokes his boy made, always leaning heavily into any touch, always obsessed with wearing his clothes. And as much as the cutesy behavior made Wayne roll his eyes, it also melted his heart a bit, knowing his kid was with someone who loved him just as much, if not more.

He just…wanted Eddie to know he was safe to be himself, both of them were, in any way that was. Eventually Wayne just let it slip, on one of those rare nights when Steve wasn’t there for dinner. He was working a late shift, and as Wayne watched Eddie wrap him up a plate for when he got off, he just let the question fall out of his mouth,“So…you and the Harrington boy huh?”

Eddie almost dropped the plate in surprise, spinning to stare at Wayne with wide eyes, “Huh?”

“You and Steve,” Wayne reiterated, “Not that there’s anything wrong that Eds, really, I don’t care-”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Steve!” Eddie interrupted, face bright as he put the plate down, “Why would you think that?”

Wayne sighed, “Eddie, you don’t got to hide anything from me.”

“I’m not!” Eddie insisted, face still insanely red, “Steve’s great but we’re not-I’m not like that, okay?”

Wayne blinked at him. He knew what his Eddie sounded like when he lied, and this wasn’t it…but Wayne also knew what he saw, and he couldn't help but feel his heart break a bit for Steve. Maybe his boy wasn’t in love with the kid, but Harrington sure as hell was, “My mistake then,”

Eddie gave him a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair, “You bet it is, really letting that imagination run wild over there huh?

Wayne sighed as he stood up, “But Eddie?"

“Yeah?”

"Try and let him down easy when the time comes." He patted his shoulder as he made his way to his bedroom, already wondering if there was any way he’d be able to help the poor Harrington boy out when his heart got broken, leaving a shell-shocked Eddie in his wake.

Let him down easy when the time comes.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with that. He trusted Wayne, respected him too, but there was no way in hell that Steve felt anything towards him that wasn’t friendship. King Steve wasn’t gay, if anything he was a flaming heterosexual considering his insane number of flings in highschool.

Not to mention the fact that Eddie wasn’t gay, or at least…he didn’t think he was gay. But then again, he wasn’t thinking about much these days that wasn’t Steve, Steve, Steve. But they were best friends, new best friends, so wasn’t that normal? And okay, sure, Eddie had never felt like this for anyone ever before, but that didn't mean it was romantic. And so what if the thought of Steve with a girl made him ill? He was just a needy guy who loved having all the attention on him.

And so what if Steve was objectively attractive? Was it gay to know that a man was pretty or was it just having eyes? And okay, sure, Eddie had had a few wet dreams about him, but dreams didn’t mean anything. Right?

Eddie flopped face down onto his bed, groaning into his pillow. If, on some very off chance that Wayne was right, then he was going to have to put a stop to it wouldn’t he? It’s not like he and Steve could just drive into the sunset together as gay lovers, not in this town. No, Eddie would just have to lay down the law, put up some boundaries, do something to make this relationship make sense, because now that he was actually thinking about it, they were nowhere even close to normal.

Eddie could hear the front door unlocking, the tell-tale sign that Steve was finally home. Eddie wasn’t sure when their shitty trailer had become Steve’s home, but he hoped it stayed that way, even after they managed to put their friendship back into the strictly platonic category.

He kept his face in the pillow, mind racing on how to even start this bizarre conversation when he heard Steve laugh behind him, “What’s got you so dramatic?”

You.

“Wayne,” he mumbled into the fabric, listening to the sounds of Steve puttering around the room. He could tell everything he was doing from the sounds alone, so used to the little night routines they had developed together. He was digging through Eddie’s drawers now, definitely looking for something clean to sleep in.

Shit, would Steve stop wearing his clothes after they talked? Would he stop sleeping in the same bed as him? Eddie was really starting to question the worth of useless things like boundaries if it meant having his Steve around less.

His Steve. Platonic friends didn’t call each other that did they?

Eddie could feel Steve start to crawl onto the bed, laying right beside him, “Are you ever going to come out of there?”

“Never,” Eddie grumbled, because that would mean he would have to look at Steve. He’d have to acknowledge all the stupid shit going through his head and things would change. And he didn’t want things to change.

Steve laughed at that, and Eddie could feel warm hands start to poke at the side of his face, “But what if I want to see you?”

“Then that sucks for you.” Eddie mumbled. He could feel Steve getting closer, close enough that his breath was tickling his face. Close enough that Eddie felt like his heart was going to escape his chest from how hard it was pounding.

“You’re such a shithead,” Steve giggled right into his ear, “Come on, please? I missed you today.”

Eddie sighed, finally turning his head to look at him, only to be met with that stupidly pretty face. Was it legal for men to be this cute? Steve was smiling, the small kind that Eddie was almost sure was just for him, and he was so close. Eddie glanced down at his mouth, realizing it would take almost nothing for them to be kissing.

And from the look on Steve’s face, he just realized the same thing. They stared at each other, all of the playfulness from earlier gone. Steve was biting his lower lip, and Eddie knew that he was watching him stare at it.

“Do you wanna?” Steve finally whispered, leaning in the slightest bit closer, so near that it was making Eddie’s head spin.

This was it right? What Wayne was talking about, the perfect opportunity to let him down easy. He should just sit up, tell Steve to stop joking around, and start talking about what the hell they were even doing.

"Sure," he said instead. Vaguely, in the back of his head Eddie remembered he was supposed to be having reservations about this whole thing as their lips finally met, but whatever they were vanished into thin air the second they touched.

Because kissing Steve Harrington felt fucking amazing.

The thought of saying no? Of never kissing him again? It wasn’t going to happen, not after he'd gotten a taste. Eddie gripped his shirt and pulled him in closer, relishing in the little surprised sound Steve made when he slipped his tongue into his mouth. He wanted to do this forever. He couldn’t even remember what the argument against it was, not when Steve was moaning against him, not when he was too busy scrambling to move and get Steve in his lap, definitely knocking multiple things off the nightstand in the process.

If this is what being gay meant than Eddie was on board, himself from half an hour ago could go to hell.

He should have realized that they were making too much noise, noises that his very protective uncle, who just found out Hell was a real place and it lived below Hawkins, was not used to hearing from his room.

They both jumped when the door slammed opened, a frenzied Wayne standing in the doorway with Steve’s favorite bat over his shoulder, He let it drop at the sight of them, half relieved that they were fine and half shockingly amused to see what they were doing.

Steve tried to scramble out of Eddie’s lap, an apology already on his lips when Wayne started to cackle, “I really let my imagination run wild huh?”

Eddie laughed right along with him, rolling his eyes as he kept an iron tight grip on Steve’s waist, forcing him to stay in place, “You win this round old man,”

“Damn right I do.” Wayne laughed, turning on his heel, “You kids have fun now, just not too much.”

Steve could still hear him cackling as he went down the hall as he sat dumbfounded in Eddie’s lap, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugged, “My uncle approving of us. Now kiss me again.”

And well…there was no way Steve was going to say no to that.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #drabble #wayne munson number one ally #i needed a fic where Wayne had to step in and show his dumbass son he's in love #is it gay to be in love with your best friend #yes eddie #yes it is

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honey-milk-depresso · 3 months

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Request HC for Dorm Leaders at Karaoke. Would they sing, what would they sing, how good are they at singing? Thank you~

I’ll be doing requests for a while, head on to my pin post to see!

TWST Dorm Leaders in a Karaoke

Riddle Rosehearts

I feel that he has a soft, angelic voice but would be shy to sing in front of everyone, probably passing the mic to all his other dorm mates.

He’s more piano-equip than singing-equip, so singing techniques might be a bit amateurish. I don’t think he’ll try to sing classical opera songs though, more of like soft pop songs that he can sing to and don’t embarrass himself in front of everyone.

Leona Kingscholar

Living Aggrestuko

Sleeping in the day, but at night when the beast is awoken for karaoke night (I’m sure Savanaclaw does often-)…

Yeah- beside him is Ruggie-

Azul Ashengrotto

He might be the best singer out there, I mean he used to run a band before as lead singer so-

He’s got a smooth, elegant singing voice that can sometimes go sultry if he sings a love song but he’s not gonna do that in front of people-

Azul has some flair to his singing, swaying his hips slightly but honestly it’s pretty subtle. You gotta show that ✨pizass✨, but not too much you know?

He’s NOT gonna stay in the karaoke room for too long though, otherwise he’s gonna suffer through Floyd’s weird ass playlist he’ll sing or worse, Heavy Metal Rock-

Kalim Al Asim

Great karaoke singer!

He’ll mostly sing pop songs but one thing about this boy-

d a n c e s-

He might pull up a Just Dance session and sing along (and that’s hard to do ngl-) since Just Dance lets you sing along too while you’re at it and he might as well do a whole ass concert in front of the Scarabia Dorm

Also pulls Jamil in to do a duet with him-

Vil Schoenheit

Another good singer, and this time he’s the most normal one like Riddle.

He has a delicate yet pretty deep voice he can go down to, but it’s usually light and pretty, perfect for singing slow songs and all.

It’s just that he might go first to excuse himself to leave later because he is NOT gonna sit through to listen Rook going crazy af over the love song playlists-

Idia Shroud

Mostly anime songs. He’s singing voice is actually not bad, it’s just that he’d rather not, and maybe he’ll only have a karaoke session with his brother Ortho.

Family Bonding Time 👍

Idia can sing all kinds of anime songs, and I mean ALL KINDS-

It can go from sad ones too downright fast and upbeat and Ortho would be having light sticks raised for his brother and cheering him on.

If he’s particularly grumpy for the day it’ll just become:

Malleus Draconia

I’m sorry, when I imagined him at a karaoke session I saw him bringing a violin and scoresheets and lyric sheets💀-

Because all Lilia told him was “it’s a singing fest”.

Anyways, he might be rather stiff in holding the mic, but his voice is deep and soothing so yeah.

Lilia might tease him a little to sing pop songs for fun and oh my god it’s hilarious-

He’s having a lot of fun though, maybe he can invite his favourite magicless student too to have fun~

Reblogs help! ^^

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milliesdiary · 1 year

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Imagine if the reader is friends with Jace and Luke but also betrothed to Aemond, so when he makes that offensive toast at dinner, reader gets mad and confronts him. She says that if he actually loves her, then he would stop doing those things, which leads to a confession <3

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; after a fight-provoking tribute at a family dinner, you ask aemond — your friend and betrothed — where his feelings lie.

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader from an unspecified house, fluff, a bit of spice ♡

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; thank you all for the support! also a big thank you for those who wanted to be tagged :) you keep me going! for anyone who reads this, please reblog and comment with your feedback. i fall in love with everyone who does and it means so much! i appreciate you & be sure to consider following to stay updated ✨

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬; @deeeeexx @cassianas @sweet-andromeda @thedeathofduty @evasgreentea @burningcoffeetimetravel

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄.

It started off a bit rocky, to be fair. But then Viserys’ made a plea for peace, begged for the family to heal, and the tension melted like a slab of butter in a warm hand. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place.

Forgiveness was offered. The family was together. Your betrothed was complacent, despite being in the presence of his nephews. Alicent hid her laugh behind a hand, Rhaenyra’s pretty lips were curled into a smile that matched Daemon’s, Jace and Helaena were dancing — it was all perfect.

You’re not even sure where it went wrong. It just did.

You are laying in bed now, hours after the eventful gathering. The insomnia you're experiencing is a classic case; Aemond's tribute plays over and over in your head. You aren’t even remembering the crucial details, like what he said or what you ought to have said.

Instead, all you can recall are the expressions on Luke and Jace's faces, the way the lighthearted mood deteriorated, and the clang of your knife on your plate after dropping it in shock.

You also remember storming out of the room.

Truthfully, you are embarrassed at your future husband’s behavior. His smirk had been so arrogant that you wanted to meet it with a fist, and you probably would have if you could get away with it.

You have been betrothed to Aemond for about a moon, and while you were aware of his distaste toward his nephews, you never thought he would disrupt his family as they attempt to repair the rift between them.

Over a fucking pig.

Maybe you should have expected it.

You met Aemond when you were both children, as your father had established a peace treaty with the Targaryens at the beginning of his reign. You saw the boy get taller, watched his jaw sharpen, and stared on as his charm turned into the stern temperament of a man. He learned to ignore the things that do not serve him.

You knew that Aemond became a person of duty, of justice; he would not let things go that easily. He held a grudge with the incident. Losing his eye.

Taking that into consideration, this should not have been that big of a surprise.

And Gods, do you still want to marry him. When your father informed you about the betrothal, you were overjoyed, fit to burst, chest suddenly stuffed with the warmth of the sun and a billion ‘what ifs.’

Aemond has fascinated you throughout the years; he has always seemed so at ease and still. Unhurried and righteous. He can remain at the fireplace for a considerable amount of time, leaving you to constantly wonder what he might be thinking and how he is able to survive in such solitude.

You love him. Always have, though you are too scared to tell him. Part of you wonders if he shares the same affections.

But there’s no chance of that, is there? Aemond does not allow himself to experience attraction or establish attachments. There is no changing that. He must have agreed to the proposal because it was the right political choice; there is no other reason why he would have accepted.

Aemond loving you back? It’s impossible.

You roll over onto your side and stare at the window that sits across the room, trying to focus on the moonlight drifting through. It takes about thirty seconds of dead silence for you to realize that you might just go insane. You’re literally about to grab an extra pillow and shove it over your face — with the plan of suffocating yourself to sleep — when you hear a knock on your chamber door.

The noise almost makes you jump. For a moment, you consider not answering it, but curiosity refuses to bid you farewell. You crawl out of the sheets and reach for a match on your dresser, flicking it against the wood to conjure a flame. You ignite the oil lamp that sits on your nightstand, the light basking the room in a warm, orange glow.

You are just making your way over to the door when the knock comes again. Straightening out your nightgown and taking a deep breath, you open it.

Despite the darkness of the stone hallway, you recognize Aemond immediately.

No, it‘s not just his chiseled face that gives him away, or the long silver hair that drapes over his shoulders. It isn’t the black leather tunic he wears, hugging his lean chest. It is the way he stands: the confident way he waits for you, chin high, strong and assertive.

He’s too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people you know.

“Princess,” Aemond greets. His eye briefly looks you up and down before focusing on your face again. “Green suits you.”

Your gaze flicks down to your nightgown — made from a beautiful silk and a deep emerald, decorated in golden floral designs. It was a gift from the Queen; even though you and Aemond had not married yet, she happily proposed that you start to wear the family’s house colors. You accepted, of course.

Aemond’s compliment is so genuine that you don't know how to respond. You feel a sense of pride at his admiration. “I do not wear the color much,” you shrug, trying to sound unbothered. “But I will get used to it over time.”

“You shall,” Aemond nods. He seems pleased. Pleased that you will become a Targaryen, that you will be dressed in the color of his house until the end of your days. It is a reminder that you’re his. All his.

“My Prince,” you change the subject. “Might I ask what you are doing outside my chambers this late?”

“I have come to talk.”

You fix him with a blank stare. Talk? The last thing you want to do is talk.

“Where did my guard go?” you ask slowly.

“I advised he take a walk.”

You get a feeling that the conversation with your sworn knight did not play out that way, but this is your future husband; it probably would not be a good idea to go to sleep on a bitter note. Biting back a retort and a sigh, you open your chamber door and wave him in. Aemond struts in casually.

He acts like he owns the place with how he stands directly in the center. You dawdle by the doorway, allowing him to observe the space: he takes in the fireplace, the golden decor, and then your bed, draped in silks and the pillows similar to the fluff of clouds. It’s a beautiful room, you must admit. You take pride in it.

“You are upset about the tribute, I presume,” Aemond says finally, turning to face you. That eye of his is the perfect shade of violet; purple like a flowering bruise, unclouded and intense and determined.

“I am not upset anymore,” you lie. “I do not care.”

“You do care.”

“No.”

It is quiet for a second. Not a word uttered.

Then Aemond pries you right open. “You do.”

“Fine. I do.”

“And why is that, Princess?” He almost taunts.

You want to snap at Aemond — ask him what he means and how can he take something like this so simply. It is not a joke. A civil war is brewing among his family, yet he does not take it seriously at all. He even seems to take joy in participating. The idea has you seething.

Here Aemond is, continuing to pretend that he is harmless, that his touch is gentle, that his palms won't burn handprints into your skin. You would almost believe it if you didn’t know any better.

“With all due respect, My Prince, Jace and Luke are my dearest friends. They are kind and loyal to me, as well as their family.”

Aemond hums, uninterested. "A dog possesses the same traits.”

An anger gathers within you. It screams right into your face: this is how it shall be and you will have to deal with it.

“You are playing quite the jester today, My Prince,” you tell him. I would like to slap you across the face, is what you’re truly thinking.

Aemond lets out an amused huff at that. The light from the lamp in the corner of the room dances along his silhouette, illuminating every plane of his face. His hair is a white, jewel-drenched curtain — there’s the urge to run your hands through it.

How can someone so gorgeous cause so much chaos?

"I am exhausted," you finally sigh. You can feel how hardened your expression has become. “I am finished with miscommunications and arguments. I have tried to refrain from intense emotions and confrontations. The moment I entered King’s Landing, I told you that there was to be no drama. You promised me. And what you did at dinner? That is the trouble I stray from, yet you seem so content in dragging me back in.”

Aemond’s mouth threatens to twitch into a scowl then. He’s trying to keep his face neutral, though annoyance peeks through the cracks in his façade. “You are acting as if jests are more harmful than stealing an eye.”

“I am not saying that. I am saying that if you are to be my husband, you should be shielding me from conflict. Not causing it.”

Aemond has nothing to say to that apparently. He just gazes at you piercingly, that one violet eye intently focused on you. You try to remain steadfast, although you do feel like shrinking under the chill of his stare. Somehow, you find the courage to continue.

“If you truly respect me as your future wife — if you truly love me — then you would cease this petty game.” You steel yourself, begging yourself to be bold and ask the question. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

For a moment, you catch how Aemond’s face changes into one of surprise; he obviously was not expecting that question. It takes a couple of seconds before he fixes his jaw, training his expression into something more cool. Practiced. Poised. But then he looks at you; truly looks at you, stares you down from the inside out. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

You freeze, almost shocked by the rebuttal. You can tell he is being serious: there is a sincerity with which he wants to know.

Aemond may be wild and deranged like a dragon, thirsting for havoc, but he still aches for approval and acknowledgment. Always has. Perhaps that’s what he wants; he wants to hear that even though he fails at kindness and charity, you are still able to love him.

“Tell me,” Aemond demands. Before you can say anything, he strides forward until he’s standing right in front of you. He leans into your space, breath fluttering along your cheeks and voice almost threatening. “Do you love me? For my righteousness that drives you mad and for my lack in restraint that you so despise?”

The fire inside Aemond could kill anyone in a five mile radius; he knows it. Yet he still wants you to love him, to bravely walk into the tempest. Locate him amongst each dancing flame.

“I will accept every piece of you,” is all you can choke out.

Aemond seems to mull the words over. His face is terrifyingly neutral as he observes you carefully; he must not know impatience.

“You still never answered my question,” You blurt. “Do you love me?”

Tell me you love me, is what you really want to say.

Aemond’s face remains blank for a second.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s almost offended at the inquiry. After all the years you have spent together, all the conversations and the secrets shared and the plights experienced — how could you utter such a thing? He was the one who spoke to his mother about proposing to you. Do you really think he did it for political gain? To secure a higher seat in the ranks of royalty?

Aemond almost sneers at your ignorance. “How much longer must we be together before you acknowledge that I am not doing this for power?”

“That does not comfort me, Aemond.”

Silence. Dead silence.

The lack of an answer from Aemond makes you worry: worry that you struck a chord within him, that you have irritated him enough for him to leave, that you have made him regret accepting you as his wife.

But something changes. Slowly — agonizingly slow — Aemond takes both of your hands into his, like a silent vow without words. A white flag of surrender. His profile relaxes into something slightly softer, more reserved.

At the end of the day, he is to be your husband. If you need comfort, he will give you comfort, even if it means he has to be vulnerable.

Just for you. Only for you.

“When we were children, you once accused me of not knowing the meaning of love," Aemond starts. "But you were wrong."

You begin to breathe faster, grateful he can only discern the the direction of your emotions and nothing more. Hearing those words makes you feel something; it flutters inside your lower belly and is comparable to hope.

“I do not give a shit about anyone but you,” Aemond admits. His voice is low, deep, sincere. You almost cannot believe it.

“Is that so?” You try to sound indifferent, but it’s not convincing. His face is so, so close: your noses are almost touching.

“I would not say it if it weren’t the truth,” Aemond hums. “I did not know how to deal with my affections before, nor did I accept them. You have tortured me into becoming someone I am not.”

Tortured?

“I don’t understand—“

“You are the sword I gut myself with; that, Princess, is love."

That’s it. That’s all you needed; that reassurance, that validation. Every single ache in your heart is extinguished in a single second, every wound healed, every internalized scar covered in gauze and bandages and the homeliness that accompanies love.

More. You want him to say more. “…And you will continue to love me?”

“You are mine until death, my dear wife. I am your monster for the rest of time. I am your insanity. I am yours.”

“And me?” You whisper. You’re struggling to focus, trying to remember that you’re mad at him, but his lips are right in front of yours.

Your question nearly makes Aemond chuckle. He holds it back, a sharp exhale of air coming from his nose instead. “You are my refuge.”

“Your refuge?”

“My refuge,” Aemond repeats, his expression more resolute. “I can envision no other peace beyond the one that exists when our bodies are bound.”

“And you prefer me?” You want to be showered in his love, again and again. “Over anyone else?”

“I would choose you over all,” Aemond purrs. His tone, his accent — you could crumple to your knees. "The world is cruel and it steals from everyone, so I shall do the same. I will take what I wish. I will take you every time you are offered.”

Goosebumps threaten to rise from your body. Aemond’s hand comes down to rest on your waist, causing your breath to come out as a stutter. You’re not sure how you haven't disintegrated into nothingness. “I have loved you forever, Aemond.”

A warmth akin to sunshine rises in his face and he almost looks humored. You need him. And he needs you, though he may not outwardly admit it; needs you like you’re oxygen and he's trying to catch a breath.

Suddenly, Aemond’s hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss. Your fingers fly up to grip his shoulders when your lips touch, opening your jaw for him on instinct. You grab a fistful of his leather tunic and kiss him as hard as possible, allowing his hands to conquer your body. He tastes of peppermint, smells musky like dragon.

Everything seems to be on fire. The pit of your stomach, your blood, his mouth. All you feel is the strength of his silhouette against your own and you want to remember this forever. With how Aemond holds you so firmly — almost like you might disappear any second — you can tell he feels the same. You have the power to kiss away his suffering, his years of self-hatred, his doubts, and the crushed dreams of an irrelevant future that he always imagined.

Aemond’s hands roam to your lower back, thumbs digging into the silky fabric of your nightgown. You draw him closer, brushing your thigh against his crotch to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a ‘hmm’ into your mouth.

There is nothing you desire more than to examine Aemond in full view with all lamplights on and his clothing off, to have him slowly remove this gown from your body and take his time with touching every inch. You want to run your fingertips across the ridged skin of his scar and trace it all the way down. You want to feel the weight of him flush against you, wrapped around you. You want him.

Finally, you draw away, only to whisper.

“You said you would take me whenever I am offered. Take me then, Aemond.”

A fire alights in Aemond’s eye — he’s considering it — but the flames quickly freeze over with that sense of duty. Self-control. “Not like this,” he murmurs. “But I vow to treat you to obscenities when I bed you. I will leave such marks on your body that anyone you entertain afterwards will have to know me in order to know you.”

Aemond’s words have the ability to make you shiver. It only makes you more excited for your wedding day. Even then, you still want him in this moment. Need his presence.

“Stay with me tonight, at least,” you plead. “Just share the bed with me. Nothing else. I will bribe the guards tomorrow morning so we will not get caught.”

Aemond considers you for a long while. Then, without a word, he smiles. It’s sly, yes, but oh-so beautiful.

“So you will stay?” You ask again. Aemond hums in agreement, cradling your cheek in a palm. It is a tenderness that you were not expecting, but one that you accept heartily. He nods his head before speaking.

“If you put your hand in mine, my dear wife, I will always hold it.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fic #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fic #millie’s works — 📓

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