#and live in peace where if i don't like what she comes out with i won't experience it as this great tragedy

[wholoveseggs]

Yo I’m back. Tbh half of your anon requests are me lol. Can you write something about Elijah and the reader having a family. Kids of any age maybe living in the compound with the rest of the mikaelsons? Still smut ofc but I love that episode where Elijah is with Cami at the safe house and he acts all family man fixing the fence n stuff that was hotttt

Family Man

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Life at the compound can be chaotic with kids and family running around, but Elijah wouldn't have it any other way.

♡♡ Thanks for the request wonderful @elijahstwink (everyone go check out his fics!) & anon!I Love domestic Elijah sooo much, I truly believe this would be his dream life. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, unfortunately I didn't make this as kinky as requested...its just very sappy and sweet, this is just a day in the life of Elijah as a devoted father and husband, pregnant!reader, uncle Klaus being precious, toddlers, hot cocoa, kittens & so much flufffffff

ps, this is pretty much a sequel to devotion...

In the early hours of the morning you were awoken by a loud snore from your husband. You rolled over to face him, chuckling a little as you watched his peaceful sleeping form. It was the first time in a long time he was finally getting the rest he deserved.

You slowly turned, carefully sliding out of bed. You tiptoed out the room and decided to go down to the kitchen to make some tea.

You loved this time of night, being in the stillness of the house, just enjoying the calmness and being able to take in the beauty of it all.

When you reached the bottom step, you heard some sniffling and cries coming from one of the rooms down the hall. You rushed to the door and opened it, and a small figure ran into your arms, clinging onto you.

"What's wrong, little one?" you asked, scooping her up.

"I had a nightmare. There were these people with sharp teeth and they were chasing me. And then you were there but you were gone. It was scary, mommy," she sobbed, her head buried in your chest.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it was just a dream. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are safe," you said, kissing her head and stroking her hair, soothing her. "Come on, let's go get something warm to drink,"

You carried her down to the kitchen and began to prepare the hot cocoa, which was her favorite. As you stood over the stove, waiting for the milk to boil, you felt her little hands rubbing your stomach.

"Mommy, when is the baby going to come out?" she asked.

"Not for a while, sweetie. It needs to grow inside my belly for a little longer," you chuckled.

"Okay," she said, looking sad. "I can't wait to meet them. Is it a girl or a boy?" she asked, looking up at you with her big, brown eyes.

"We don't know yet," you replied.

"Oh," she replied, disappointed. "I hope it's a girl. I already have a brother, I want a sister," she said.

"We'll just have to wait and see," you smiled, placing the mug of hot cocoa down on the counter. "Here, drink up, before it gets cold," you said.

She hopped off the chair and held the mug with both her hands, sipping away. You sipped on your tea as well, feeling relaxed. You loved these quiet moments with her, and you would cherish every one of them, since she was growing up so fast.

"So, what was this dream about, princess?" you asked, wanting to know more.

"T-there were people with sharp teeth and they were after me," she said.

"And why do you think that was?" you asked, not wanting her to feel afraid, but curious about what caused this dream.

"I think I saw it in a movie or something," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "An-and uncle Nik showed me his sharp teeth, but he promised he would never bite me, only use them to protect me," she said.

"Oh, did he now?" you laughed.

"Yeah, but then he bit my teddy bear," she said, giggling. "he said my teddy was a threat!"

"That sounds like something uncle Nik would do," you chuckled.

"Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied.

"Thank you, mommy," she said, smiling and hugging your legs.

"Come on, let's go to bed," you said, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck and laid her head on your shoulder as you walked back up to your bedroom.

You placed her in the middle of the bed, and she quickly snuggled up against Elijah, her head on his chest. She loved having his attention. She was a daddy's girl through and through.

You slid back into bed, lying down on your side and Elijah instantly pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you both.

"Is my little one alright?" he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"I had a bad dream, daddy," she sniffled, curling up against him.

"It's alright, my love. Everything will be alright," he said, kissing her head and soothing her. "No bad dreams will get you while I'm here," he said, pulling the blanket up and tucking her in.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, cuddling him as she drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair, and her eyes grew heavy. Soon she was sound asleep, and he placed his hand on your stomach, his precious family safe in his arms.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Exhausted. Our littlest one is keeping me up, constantly moving and kicking," you sighed, feeling drained.

"Let's hope it's not like this for the whole pregnancy," he chuckled.

"Don't even joke about that," you groaned.

He gave you a kiss on the head, your daughter snuggled in between the two of you, and you finally managed to get a few more hours of sleep.

Elijah was woken by the sunlight shining through the curtains, and he smiled at the sight of his beautiful family.

His daughter was still cuddled up to him, her head buried in his chest, she stirred slightly and yawned.

"Do you want breakfast?" he asked, his hand on her back.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Hmmm what would you and your brother like? Gruel? Porridge?" he asked, teasing her.

"Eww no," she groaned, loudly.

"Alright, alright, pancakes it is, let's go wake your brother and the rest of the family," he said, chuckling.

"Can we get chocolate chips on the pancakes?" she asked as he carried her out the room.

"I don't know, maybe your brother wants blueberries, but we'll ask," he said, tickling her.

His son and his niece were both awake and running around, and Klaus was chasing him, laughing, the children giggling as they hid under the dining table.

"Oh, look who's here. Little Rebekah is up," Klaus teased.

"No! That's not my name!" she pouted, crossing her arms.

"Yes, it is," Elijah chuckled.

"Nooo," she whined. "It's just Bex," she said.

"Alright, alright, Bex it is," Klaus chuckled, patting his head.

"Pancakes for breakfast, anyone?" Elijah asked.

"Yes, yes, yes," the children yelled.

"Chocolate chips?" Klaus asked, grinning.

"Yes!!!" the kids screamed, all jumping up and down in excitement.

"Alright, I'll make them, the last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg," Klaus said, speeding off.

The kids squealed and ran after Klaus, and Elijah chuckled and went back upstairs to check on you.

You were sound asleep, your hair fanned across the pillow. He laid down next to you, placing his hand on the swell of your stomach, smiling and talking to the baby.

"How are you, littlest one? Have you been keeping mommy up all night?" he asked, his dimples on full display.

"Yes, they have," you sighed.

"That's my job," he smirked, leaning in and giving you a kiss. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked.

"I'll go eat later. I just want to stay here for a little longer," you replied, holding his hand on your stomach.

Elijah hummed softly and pulled you close, kissing your head and rubbing your back. He loved the way you melted into his touch.

"How is Bex?" you asked.

"She's completely forgotten about her nightmare, Klaus is making breakfast for all the kids," he chuckled.

"They have him wrapped around their little fingers," you giggled.

"He has grown soft, it's true," Elijah said.

"Bex told me he bit her teddy bear," you laughed.

"Yes, well, that doesn't surprise me," he chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.

You sighed happily and wrapped your arms around him, feeling complete bliss in his embrace.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked.

"Stay right here with you," you replied, running your hand through his hair, making him hum in delight. You were feeling a bit needy this morning, the pregnancy hormones making you want him all the time.

"I think that can be arranged," he smirked.

You grinned and leaned in, kissing him slowly, deepening the kiss. He moaned, and rolled over, pressing you into the mattress, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach.

He loved your pregnant state, the way your skin glowed, your eyes sparkled and the way you moaned his name made him crazy. He couldn't keep his hands off you, he wanted to ravish you day and night.

He thought he knew all of his kinks, but this one took him by surprise. When you were first pregnant with Henry it was like something in his brain clicked. The possessiveness, the lust, the way his cock ached to be inside you, he was lost.

Henry was a miracle, he didn't quite know how the magic worked. You tried to explain it to him once, your witch ancestry, how the moon played a part, but all he could think about was fucking you senseless, filling you up, and breeding you.

You were the perfect partner, and an absolute warrior, but nothing turned him on more than seeing you in this submissive, almost docile state. You were his wife, his goddess, and his greatest treasure, and he wanted nothing more than to please you day and night.

His hands went to your soft, full breasts, squeezing and kneading them, making you whimper and moan. He captured your nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, his other hand moving your nightdress up your thighs.

"Elijah," you sighed, his fingers brushing over your wet panties, making you gasp and moan.

"Is my beautiful wife needy this morning?" he smirked, his fingers slipping past the lace.

"Yes," you panted, the pad of his index finger teasing your clit, making your body tremble.

"Good," he hummed, his mouth on your neck, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wet heat.

You were both so lost in pleasure that neither of you heard the sound of Bex running up the stairs, Klaus not far behind her.

Luckily the door was locked, Elijah knew better than that with a house full of children.

"Daddy? Mommy?" she asked softly, knocking on the door.

"One minute, my love," Elijah called, his voice strained, trying to keep himself from ravishing you.

"Okay," she said, not leaving, but sitting down outside the door.

"Come back downstairs Bex, your mom and dad are a bit busy at the moment," Klaus chuckled, his voice low.

"Are they playing hide and seek?" she asked.

"Something like that," he replied.

"Can we play after?" she asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Now come on, let's finish our pancakes, you don't want Henry to eat them all," he chuckled, lifting her up and taking her back downstairs.

Elijah looked down at your flushed face, laughing at the situation.

"You are so mean," you groaned, pushing him off you.

"Mean? I was just getting started," he chuckled.

"I think our daughter needs us, and Henry has probably eaten all the pancakes by now," you laughed, getting up and smoothing out your dress.

"I'll finish what I started tonight," he smirked.

"Don't get your hopes up," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and getting dressed.

Elijah watched your every move, the way you walked, the glow on your skin, and how the dress clung to the curve of your stomach. You looked ethereal. He was completely mesmerized, and completely smitten.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, the dress a little too tight, the buttons straining against your swollen breasts.

"We are going to have to get you new dresses," he chuckled, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

"This was my favorite," you pouted.

"We'll find you something that fits, don't worry," he said, kissing your shoulder.

"My back is killing me," you groaned, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Let me try something," he said, his hands dipping under your belly and lifting the bump, and you immediately felt relief. "Better?" he whispered against your skin.

You let out a happy groan and leaned into him, letting him hold you. His hands were gentle, his touch making the tension and aches melt away.

"Thank you," you sighed.

"You are very welcome," he hummed.

"Let's go eat, I'm absolutely starving," you laughed, kissing him and taking his hand.

"Let's," he smiled.

When the two of you entered the dining room, Bex squealed and jumped out of her seat, running towards Elijah.

"Daddy I saved you a pancake, see, here it is," she said, holding it up.

"That's very sweet of you, darling," he said, bending down and picking her up.

She fed him the pancake, giggling and laughing, and Klaus was grinning from ear to ear, and he handed you a plate filled with an assortment of fruit, knowing it was your favorite.

"Thank you," you smiled, sitting down at the table, feeling your stomach rumble.

Hope was sitting with Henry, and they were coloring on their plates, syrup and chocolate spread everywhere, their laughter filling the room.

Bex was still cuddled up to Elijah, and his hand was on your stomach, and he was feeding you pieces of fruit, smiling at you.

"Your birthday is coming up little Bekah, what do you want as a present?" Klaus asked, ruffling her hair.

"Hmmm I don't know," she replied, deep in thought.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Elijah smiled.

"Can we get a puppy?" Henry asked, excitedly.

"Not until you're old enough to take care of it," Elijah replied, ruffling his hair.

"What about a kitten?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I love kitties!" Hope squealed.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the children yelled.

"I'll have to think about it," Elijah chuckled.

"Please dad! It's all I want for my birthday," Bex begged, her big brown eyes looking at him, her little lip pouting.

"Don't let her pull that face, Elijah, it's not fair," Klaus laughed.

"Alright, alright, you can have a kitten," he replied, smiling at his little girl.

She squealed and threw her arms around him, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"I promise I'll take care of it, daddy," she smiled.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, smiling and looking at you.

Klaus could see the exhaustion on your face, and the way you rubbed your stomach. You were tired and he could sense it, he knew you needed a break and some alone time with Elijah.

"Why don't we go out and play, little ones," he said, scooping up the children. "Let's all go to the park, we can even invite uncle Kol and aunt Rebekah," he suggested.

"Yay, yay, yay," the kids cheered.

"That sounds like a good idea," you replied, yawning and stretching your arms.

"Let's go, let's go," he said, wrangling the kids out of the compound.

Once they were gone, Elijah got up and started cleaning up the mess everyone had made. The compound was bursting at the seams with his family, and it was never quiet, but he enjoyed it, seeing the children run around and play, their laughter and their love filling the rooms.

You leaned back in your chair, admiring the sight of your husband working, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair falling over his forehead.

"You are gorgeous," you sighed, making him look up from the sink.

"As are you," he smirked.

"I can't believe you agreed to get Bex a kitten," you laughed.

"She can be very persuasive," he chuckled, drying his hands and coming to sit next to you.

"She has you wrapped around her finger," you smiled, cupping his cheek.

"Like I am not the same with her mother," he laughed.

"You have a point there," you grinned, kissing him.

He smiled against your lips, his hand moving down your body, resting on your stomach, letting out a contented sigh.

You mind wandered to all the things that needed to be done for the kids and around the house, you also hadn't even started preparing the nursery. You felt overwhelmed and the hormones weren't helping. On top of all that you had a party coming up.

"Stop thinking out loud," Elijah chuckled, pulling you closer.

"I can't help it, there is just so much to do," you groaned, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "I'm already behind, the baby will be here soon and I still haven't gotten anything ready."

"We still have a few months, everything will be fine, love. We will get the nursery ready, and the party will be wonderful, I'm sure of it," he replied, kissing your forehead.

His reassurances didn't help your worries, and you knew you were being unreasonable, but the stress was starting to take its toll.

"And now we have to go find a kitten, I don't even know where to start," you sighed, shaking your head.

"We can look online, we can go to a shelter, there's plenty of options," he replied, stroking your hair.

He was always so patient, so understanding, and you had no idea how he stayed so calm. You felt like you were going crazy.

"Do you even want a kitten?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I prefer them over dogs, although their hair does get everywhere," he chuckled, cupping your cheek. "They are excellent little predators, great for catching the mice that are running around this old place," he smirked.

"You're not wrong, the mice are awful," you laughed, remembering the time you were down in the wine cellar and one of them ran across your foot.

"Why don't you go rest, my love? I will clean up here and join you upstairs," he suggested.

You nodded and yawned, standing up and heading towards the stairs, Elijah's eyes on you the entire time.

The moment you got to the bed and laid down, your eyes closed and you were fast asleep.

When you woke up you heard soft hammering coming from the other room, and you went to investigate, finding Elijah, shirtless and sweaty, fixing the nursery.

"I told you not to start without me," you sighed, crossing your arms and leaning against the door.

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the sight of you, the sunlight coming in through the window and making you glow.

"It needed to be done. I'm almost finished," he replied, standing up and putting the crib together.

"You've been busy," you laughed, walking over and running your hands over the white, wooden furniture. He hand painted the walls and assembled everything, and you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

"It's beautiful," you sighed, looking around.

"Are you crying? Don't cry, darling," he said, pulling you close, your face pressed against his chest.

"I can't help it, these stupid hormones," you sniffled.

"It's alright," he laughed, stroking your hair.

You sighed and pulled away, taking in the nursery. There was a rocking chair and a bookshelf, filled with all the children's books the two of you had collected over the years.

"It looks wonderful," you said, smiling and wiping away your tears.

"Now, what would my lovely wife like to do for the rest of the afternoon? We have the place to ourselves, so I was thinking we could make good use of that large tub in our bathroom," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You read my mind," you grinned.

You followed him back into your room, watching him fill up the tub with warm water, pouring in some bubble bath.

"Get undressed, darling," he smiled, taking his pants off and getting in the tub, moaning at the sensation of the water against his skin.

You slowly peeled off your dress, feeling a little self-conscious about your changing body. Here was your husband, eternally chiseled, and there you were, round and swollen.

"Come, let me take care of you," he whispered, seeing your hesitation.

You slipped in next to him, the water and bubbles a nice contrast to the heat of the day.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, placing his hands on the swell of your stomach.

"There, doesn't that feel nice?" he hummed.

"Very nice," you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing.

His hands roamed over your skin, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck.

"I've missed having you all to myself," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

"Mmm," was all you could say, too relaxed and content to form words.

He gently cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper and moan.

"Eli," you sighed, his touch sending shivers through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice breathy.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze filled with lust and desire.

"Do you want to continue this on our bed?" You asked, your voice sultry.

"I'd love to," he replied, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.

He helped you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body. Before suddenly scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you down.

"I can't wait until I'm not this enormous," you sighed, looking down at your swollen belly.

"You're not enormous, you're beautiful, and absolutely radiant," he replied, hovering over you, his hand gently resting on your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile, and the tears started rolling down your cheeks.

"Don't cry again, my love," he chuckled.

"I can't help it! Just ignore me," you said, wiping the tears away.

"As if that is possible," he laughed.

He kissed your forehead, moving his way down your body, placing his hands on your hips, his lips pressing soft kisses against the curve of your stomach.

"Elijah, you don't have to do that," you whispered, feeling a little shy.

"But I want to," he replied, kissing his way down, spreading your legs.

"Oh," was all you could say, his tongue swirling over your clit, one hand on your inner thigh, the other resting on your stomach.

He hummed and moaned, the vibrations making you gasp, and arch your back. He could tell you were sensitive, and he was gentle, taking his time.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging a little, making him moan and pick up the pace.

" 'lijah," you panted, feeling the pleasure coil in your core.

You couldn't even see him over the swell of your stomach, but you could feel him, and the noises he was making were sending you into overdrive.

"Fuck, don't stop," you gasped, the orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.

Elijah was enjoying himself, the taste of you on his tongue, the noises you were making, and the sight of you coming apart, was driving him crazy.

You tugged on his hair, pulling his face away, the sensations becoming too much, and he crawled up your body, kissing your stomach as he moved.

"Did you enjoy that, darling?" He asked, kissing you and tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Mmm yes, very much," you hummed, pushing on his chest so he laid back.

He watched you move, a smirk on his face, his pupils blown. You sat on his thighs, stroking him, seeing his abs tense and relax, and he let out a long, deep moan.

"You are such a good father and husband, always going above and beyond for us," you said, leaning down and licking his length. "Let me show you how much I appreciate you,"

You leaned down and teased his head with your tongue, enjoying the string of curses that came tumbling from his mouth.

A soft hum escaped you as you slowly, and carefully, sucked on the head, teasing and tasting.

"Love, you are exquisite," he groaned, burying his fingers in your hair.

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, letting him move at the pace he desired. All you wanted to do was please him, you loved when his voice would crack from pleasure and the way his fingers would tug on your hair.

"Come here," he said, cupping your cheek.

You pulled off of him with a pop, moving to sit on top of him, kissing him and grinding against his length.

"Mmm, I could do this forever," you hummed, biting his bottom lip and tugging.

He ran his hands up and down your back, nibbling at your shoulder, suckling marks into your skin.

Your swell was pressed against his abs, and he could feel every slight movement, enjoying the sight of you rolling your hips.

He guided you down onto his cock, the sheets bunched up around the two of you, and he rolled his hips, his hands gripping your ass.

"You are stunning," he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts.

His lips brushed over your nipples, sucking, his teeth grazing them, his groans vibrating through your body.

"Eli- stop, they are too sensitive," you panted, running your nails over his skin, leaving bright red scratches.

"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning at the sting of your nails.

He did most of the work, gently rocking you in a steady rhythm, and the two of you moaned, the pleasure coursing through your bodies, his lips brushing your neck.

It was a slow, hot and steamy fuck, you felt like your body was on fire, the sweat and heat radiating off the two of you.

You leaned forward a little, allowing Elijah to get a little more friction, his hips moving faster, the both of you panting and moaning.

"Ah- Elijah, I'm-," you panted against his lips.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you came undone, clenching around him.

Elijah followed suit, the sensation of your orgasm bringing him to the edge.

He cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down for a kiss, and the two of you hummed, content and sated, basking in the afterglow.

"I wish we could stay like this," you sighed, nuzzling against him.

He laughed, and gently rolled you onto your side, pulling out of you and tucking you against his chest, both of you smiling like idiots.

"I love you," he said, stroking your hair.

"I love you too," you whispered, resting your head on his arm, letting the world melt away for just a few minutes.

Elijah watched you drift off to sleep, a small smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being next to you.

It was days like these that made him wonder what he did to deserve it. That perhaps there was some sort of higher power that had guided him to you, that brought him such profound peace and happiness after centuries of darkness.

You mumbled and cuddled up against him, he placed his hand on your belly, rubbing it with his thumb, thinking about how lucky he was.

He was living a life he never thought he would have, a family of his own, one he created. He didn't know what was waiting for him after he was done with this life, but he hoped you would be there with him.

In the next life, and all the ones after that.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡

Also! If you wish to be removed from the tag list just send me a dm, you won't hurt my feelings (it's okay if you got sick of me ~lol) I don't wish to hold you hostage ♡

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #hope mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #pregnant reader #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #pregnancy #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #smut

[eponastory]

Gotta apologize again for practically swimming in your DMs lately, but I remembered why people like 'Toph x Aang', and often cited Toph's honesty and lack of glorification to Aang as a reason why she would've been a better romantic interest for Aang than Katara. And I don't disagree with that, Toph is much more likely to put her foot down to let Aang know when he's wrong, which should urge him more to grow. But despite Toph theoretically being a better love interest for Aang, I have a question:

Would Aang be a good love interest for Toph?

Because since you, @longing-for-rain , and other Zutara supporters described Aang's immaturity very well, I have to wonder if Toph would be happy with Aang, knowing how hurtful he can get (Desert, Ember Island, did Aang even apologize for those instances?). What do you think? Do you think Aang has the qualities to be a good love interest for Toph? Could I ask this question for Ty Lee too? Because I see lots of people believing that Ty Lee would've been a good choice for Aang, but would Aang have been a good choice for Ty Lee? You know what, let's just get every popular alternative candidate out of the way, since people ship Aang with Toph, Ty Lee, Zuko, Sokka, and even Azula and Mai. Run the gauntlet (if you want to). Would Aang make a good love interest for literally ANY of the main characters?

Unpopular opinion, but as Aang is written in the show... he's not a good candidate for anyone.

Wait wait wait...

Hear me out before everyone gets up in arms...

This is where we have to acknowledge that Aang is a fictional character and not a real person (we are not going to count LA Aang because technically that would make him an actual person because he is portrayed by an actual teenage boy) therefore everything is written to be as it is. However, because fiction is subjective, we can debate whether or not to treat Aang like an actual person.

So with that in mind, let's begin this deconstruction of Aang's character and how he is not a good fit for any sort of romance as he is written in the show.

Aang's Selfishness

This right here is glossed over many, many times in the show. What I mean by selfishness is the fact that he is unable to look beyond his nose when it comes to other characters and their feelings. In real life, this is a very twelve year old thing to do, but unlike real life there is no one there to call him out on it. Just the writers, and they don't even do that. That coupled with the fact that he is written to be a child, it really doesn't make sense to me. That and he is the McGuffin and 'The One' of the entire show.

Bryke sets it up to be a good show by giving us the premise right from the start, but as the seasons move on, I don't really see any development from Aang. Only the characters around him.

That being said, because you don't get that development, any relationship going forward is going to feel shallow, like most of the relationships (except sukka) feel. Zuko and Katara progress in their relationship well because there was growth from both of them.

When it comes to Aang, he is more concerned with his views than taking a moment to think about everyone else's. Of course, I applaud those who actively seek peace in their lives and with dangerous situations, but Aang is incredibly naive. He doesn't get any better, even when Zuko calls him out on it. We see Aang struggle with the solution, but then Deus Ex Lionturtle shows up and doesn't really encourage that growth.

Because you don't get that growth and him moving past how HE feels, that is where a relationship is going to fall apart. It's not toxic, but if he doesn't change then it can become that way. Again, Aang is not a narcissist. He is just selfish and naive. These are two big things that cost him.

#i said what i said #you cant handle the truth #zutara #anti bryke #anti kataang

[deafsignifcantother]

Hear No Evil, Introduction

♥ series summary: with a reader overcoming the belief that they have been cursed from birth, they find solace in the hazbin hotel who assure them that they can do good things.

♥ relationship: alastor x gender neutral deaf reader

♥ word count: 1.8k

♥ notes: okay so I know that sign language didn't exist / modern greek sign language would be totally different but don't care didn't ask and she uses it idc. also if this flops then i'm not continuing it teehee i break continuity by giving her communication

♥ content: reader is from ancient greece but ethnicity is not stated nor described, i found out that it was a common belief greek gods hated deaf people and i immediately decided to write a fic about it, albiesm but only in the first part except alastor being a pos, reader has attitude

Statistically, only a handful of people probably suffered from hereditary deafness in an ancient Greek city. Athens, the largest one, probably had a population of only 240 or so congenitally deaf people; smaller cities may only have had four or five. There is no proof of the existence or absence of sign language. Still, there are some references to using gestures for communication. Women were often entrusted with caring for the disabled since the home was their particular sphere of action. 

.

A curse from the Gods. 

Still, beyond that belief, your mother would try to teach you language herself, even when other people thought you couldn't learn. In silence, you'd just observe the planet around you, watching animals play and flowers grow. Even if the Gods thought negatively of you, you found peace in the world they created. 

They hated your success. You cared for household animals and raised livestock for a living; that's what you found you were good at. Without the means of communication, all you spoke was money and coins. You had a beautiful house, a thriving garden, and a supportive customer base. But of course, to the city nearby, this must mean you were a negative spirit manipulating the people. Because how could a disabled person live such a perfect life, nevertheless independently?

You can't say you were surprised when you ended up in the underworld after your murder. Your mother would describe you as a keen intellect with a kind heart, but that's not enough to allow you into the heavens. 

You put your motivation into lifting yourself from the dirt as you did when you were alive. The underworld won't wear you down, no matter how rude others are, no matter how disadvantaged you may be. 

Sadly, there weren't any farms in the Pride Ring, not that you could find. The only gardens you could locate were in Cannibal Town, but you weren't quite ready to enter that place alone yet. The first body you ever saw was behind the town boundaries. The woman's chest was spread open, with no noticeable distinction between the concrete and her skin. Teeth marks covered her entire body; if you didn't know any better, you'd assume she was ravaged by dogs. The last thing you noticed was the number of nails that had broken off from where she was clawing at the street beneath her.

Your mind went blank, and it felt as if your vision stopped being processed. All you could do was turn away and walk back. 

Where was there else to go? 

Like the angel she is, Charlie went outside, passing fliers around, and that's when she came across you, huddled in an alley alone, hiding from danger. It was a vulnerable position. You wish she could have seen you with a pumped chest walking down the street. Instead, you were curled within yourself, head in your knees. 

When she touched your shoulder, you jumped. Her red eyes held a softness you didn't expect from anybody down here. She had an ethereal beauty. A goddess?

Behind her was another woman who looked at you skeptically as if your presence was some sort of trap. You pursed your lips the moment they opened their mouths to talk to you.

You looked at her wary, no words coming from you. What was there to say? 

The white-haired woman puts her hand on her shoulder and leans in, seeming to whisper something with a straight face. The kind-looking woman's mouth forms, and O before her eyes show panic; she pulls out her phone, typing slowly, reading over her words a million times.

'Hi! My name is Charlie, and this is my girlfriend, Veggie. We want to help you.'

And then she holds out a flier.

It's hand-drawn with sketch-like handwriting. Unconsciously, you tilt your head, squinting at it. Redemption? In the religion you were raised with, what you learned to be 'Heaven' was only for heroes. You are anything but.

However, maybe this hotel is a chance to prove yourself. 

You clench the paper.

Also free housing. It's not the worst offer.

Even though you know they don't understand, you sign a fine, your hands waving synonymously in front of you.

Your smile is all Charlie needed. She jumps up and down, holding a hand out for you, which you take without hesitation. 

Considering this recruitment a success, she puts an end to her mission and instead walks you to the hotel. She holds your hand the entire time, talking to Vaggie, her eyes wide with admiration towards both her and you.

The familiar bright blues and purples suddenly look more pleasant, especially with how they highlight her red suit. She sticks out like a sore thumb, but as a protector of you, it's comforting.

The worst part about the walk isn't the monsters around you but the hill. With the lack of food and energy in your system, each step was a nightmare. But alas, the big red door was in front of you, and Vaggie was the one who opened it. 

The interior reminded you of home, but definitely Hell's interpretation of it. Gorgeous lights, flower pots and pillars with statues filled the lobby. A bar with a cat hardly caught your attention. To be honest, that was like home, too. She must have noticed your amazement; she threw you a thumbs up, which you tilted your head at but returned. 

Unlike the other denizens in Hell, you were reserved, trying your best to keep your eyes on Charlie as she typed on her phone. 

'Do you want me to show you around? :D'

You shook your head. You signed a quick no, trying to soften the motion, worrying it appeared aggressive. You lifted your eyebrows in an attempt to show gratitude. Though she seemed disappointed, she nodded, looking around awkwardly.

That's when the others popped up. A quite freakishly tall man covered in white fur shows up from around a corner, previously sitting on a couch. When he started talking to you, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hiding your annoyance. Charlie was nice. You knew she'd explain it to him before he could figure it out himself. When you opened your eyes, Vaggie was in front of him, putting a finger on his chest and obviously scolding him. You smiled. 

Charlie shoved the phone in your face. 'That's Angel Dust, and the bartender is named Husk!!!"

Husk, what a lovely name. You took a few steps towards him before noticing Veggie and Angel Dust looking behind you. Your Deaf senses failed you this time. You couldn't even feel the presence behind you. With a slight turn of your head, you used your peripheral to investigate before fully turning when you caught a glance at a man in all red.

Your eyes flickered between him and Charlie, who was nervously laughing, talking with her hands.

The man stared at you with a bright smile, tilting his head and squinting when Charlie finished her sentence.

He held out a hand. You gave in, shaking it. 

You assumed he knew you were Deaf, but he spoke anyway, mouthing something you would never be able to recognize. His pleasantsmile made you nod. With Charlie's smile becoming a bit more genuine, you could only assume it was his attempt at being polite. 

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Breakfast was simple. You cooked every day (refusing to use the stove) and mixed together fruits, using Hell as an excuse to eat dessert in the mornings. You didn't have any company, which was pleasant, as Charlie usually kept a protective eye on you. 

But Alastor started eyeing your morning routine. 

You had been taking a shot at returning to the schedule you had when you were alive. When you were alive, you would wake up at the farm early, feed the animals, and check on the plants. The days in the hotel had been the calmest since you'd died. 

When you finished mixing your bowl, you put a fork in it. You turned to the lounge before being surprised by Alastor at the doorway, having avoided your peripheral. He leaned on his cane, his body language rather cocky. You chewed on the inside of your lip, debating either trying to communicate or just rudely walking past him. Choosing the latter, you tried to slip past him until he stopped you, placing his clawed hand on the doorway at your height. 

You pursed your lips, not pushing your luck by ducking under him.

If he spoke to you knowing you couldn't understand, you would sign to him.

"What?" You signed, swiping your hands in the most annoyed way you could portray. His smile grew at your evident frustration. With that, he simply dropped his hand, gazing down at your brow. There was still a creeping skepticism about if he was letting you off that easy.

But when he turned towards you and lifted his arm, motioning to go ahead, you left the kitchen. This time, you could feel his cane hitting the floor as he followed behind.

Vaggie has informed you about his evil presence. It clicked in an instant that his voice must be used as a way to mock you. He was like any other person, seeing your deafness as a weakness. You could never escape. This truly was Hell.

He sat on the couch across from you, crossing his legs, summoning a newspaper, and reading it. You eyed him. Fine. 

You ate, not focusing on anything else, just trying to enjoy the peacefulness of the morning, which was impossible due to his presence. Your eyes remained on the floor.

Kill me.

His cane repeatedly hit the floor, and you instinctively looked up. His attention stayed on you briefly before turning the newspaper around. The headline read, I'm afraid I've not had the pleasure of knowing your name.

Before you could lift your hand to fingerspell out of spite, he lifted the newspaper higher, showing a spot for a signature. A pen summoned next to you, and the newspaper, folded by your side.

This is ridiculous. 

You unfolded it, noticing all the other words were gone, leaving only room at the bottom for you to write.

So you did, giving in. You wrote your name in the best English you could muster before returning it. He stood, softly grabbing the newspaper from your hand, too soft for your liking, and read your name over.

Without acknowledgment, his eyelids dropped, and he walked away, no longer using his cane.

You turned your head to look at him. He turned his neck and looked at you as well, his smile more mischievous than anything. God, did he trick you or something? Your face heated up.

No. There was no flashing green light like Vaggie said he could do. 

Then what was his problem?

At least now you could finish your breakfast in peace.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #x deaf reader #alastor #x deaf s/o #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

[rosezza]

࿐Distanced

-r

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

warnings: smoking, strong language, soft!jj, mentions of violence/abuse

you were laying on your bed, reading a book you got from the library down the street 3 days ago. you couldnt really dig into it, not finding it as entertaining as you hoped it wouldve been. you sighed and closed the book, placing it down on your stomach as you stared at the ceiling.

your quiet, peaceful time was interrupted with a few knocks on the door, quick ones. you pushed yourself off your bed. taking a coat from your chair as you walked, throwing it over yourself as you made your way to the door. it was probably your mother, wanting to talk about how beautiful her day was or anything else she could think of. she usually came at this time, wanting to visit now that you finally got yourself your own apartment.

but you were wrong.

when you opened the door, there stood your bestfriend, jj maybank, or— ex bestfriend. his hair messy, cuts on his cheek, bruised throat. he was breathing heavily. his eyes half closed as i stared at your confused and shocked face. your lips parted as you took in everything "jj?.." your voice almost a whisper. him and you had not spoken for soon over a year, suddenly he was at your doorstep, all bruised up. he had stopped talking to you without a reason, but you never reached out.

he looked away from your eyes, almost embarassed to be standing here "im-.. i- can i come in." he uttered out before clearing his throat. you nodded slightly "yeah– yeah ofcourse" you said softly as you stepped to the side, allowing him inside. he looked stubborn, like he always was. you could tell he was hiding away emotions under that mask of his. because he usually did.

"what happened?" you asked gently as you closed the door behind you. ,,dad happened" he muttered quietly, trying to keep his composure. your face softened at the mention of his dad, you knew how hard he had it with him

"you're the only one who knows about that– and.." he swallowed "nobody else would get it they would just.. call the cops or sum." he added as he rubbed the back of his neck "im sorry i just came here out of nowhere i just didnt know where to go.." his voice broke a bit as his lip started quivering slightly "fuck i'm stupid.." he brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes

you shook your head and walked closer to him, your arms hooking around him warmly, embracing him like you used to do before. "shh.. its alright, im here" you reassured softly. his arms wrapped around you, hugging you close as tears started running down his face, his composure falling down, showing his vulnerable side to you. but only to you.

your fingers gently caressed his back as he cried into your shoulder, small sobs escaped his mouth as he clung onto you. it had been a while since you were this close to him, but you still recognized his scent of cigarettes.

"im fucked— i've distanced myself from you because i'm a bad influence.. but i can't live without you anymore" he cried into the crook of your neck as his hands pulled you closer to him, his fingers digging into your shirt, gripping it tightly, almost as if he was afraid of losing you again.

"hey its alright, okay? its okay, you can always come to me i don't mind. you don't have a bad influence on me, jj." you mumbled, your fingers still tracing his back, trying to soothe him

he gently pulled back, his glossy eyes staring into yours, his lips slightly parted, a cut visible on his lower lip. he was quiet for a while, he had something on his tounge, threathening to spill out. your gaze darted from his one eye to his other "whats wrong?" you asked softly, his blonde hair hanging over hia forehead. his mouth opened a bit more but he hesitated. until he finally spoke

,,the real reason i left was because i fucking fell inlove with you."

taglist: @rafeownsriley @necroflame

#jj maybank #jj x reader #outer banks #obx #jj obx #jj obx imagine #jj obx fic #jj fic #rudy pankow #fluff

[tenpixelsusie]

"Rick is the better scientist!" "actually, Reagan is the better scientist because-!!" shut up shut up shut up we all know the best fictional scientist is ALPHYS from UNDERTALE

#jeremy hater moment #hate hate HATE looking up reagan on anything and seeing her compared to rick like leave my girl alone !!! #STOP BASHING HER!!! #istg anytime i see rick and reagan in the same post i'll think ''god help me''. this is making me hate r&m fans so bad #where was i. oh yeah #in comparison to both of these characters i personally think alphys comes out on top both in a better written and better story arc stance #like don't get me wrong!! i love reagan!! but alphys will always be first in my heart #alphys is an amazing example of the ''good person who's done bad things and has to live with themselves'' character archetype- #what with the amalgamates and locking them away and hiring mettaton to stage stuff for the human just so alphys could be apart of it all- #and her arc about forgiving herself and finally giving the families closure and bringing their relatives back home and confessing- #what she had done and just. overall- everything about her story and her time interacting with frisk and undyne and everyone- #it's amazing how toby fox created this- this AMAZING little dino gal and wrote her with so much love and. just. AH!!! #alphys is. an amazing character. and i wouldn't have had her story go any other way. #(also if any of the details here are inaccurate please be nice 😭 i haven't replayed undertale in fuck knows how long) #like i said i think she comes out on top for any fictional (mad?) scientist in any media tbh. she's so sillay ♡ #(sorry to reagan. even if i love her character and overall just. her in general i'm giving alphys this one. she's the og 💥‼) #one last thing: outside of everything i've mentioned alphys is just SUCH a charming character overall ! #alphys appreciation club 4eva *peace sign* #(also i think reagan and alphys should meet and become friends right... neow!!) #(should i tag rick and reagan??? i'll tag em for organizational purposes) #reagan ridley #rick sanchez #tw rick and morty #<- for blacklist #inside job netflix #im not tagging r&m LOL #alphys undertale #undertale #dr alphys #this is ok to reblog by the way

[seventeengoingunder]

realized that i need to keep away from album theories because they negatively affect my experience of the album itself. trying to piece a sound and theme together from two pictures will eventually turn into me rationalizing that taylor will actually do what i want her to do and building expectations that will only lead to disappointment and living with phantom albums that could’ve been :/

#i was sad that i wasn't excited for the release but then i realized. we haven't heard a single second of it. once a song comes out and #i like it as i usually do #then i'll be excited for it! #but i am going to learn from my past mistakes (reputation and lover) #and live in peace where if i don't like what she comes out with i won't experience it as this great tragedy #anyway. growing out of fandom spaces is very sad #but maybe also good? who knows!

[cluescorner]

There's no feeling stranger than knowing that something is bad but liking it anyways. Not in a 'it's so bad it's good' way. Because that implies that it has become good. I'm talking like this thing is just kinda bad in the normal ways things are bad, but i like it anyways.

#honestly I'm talking about Batgirls rn #because like...it has its moments but I wouldn't call it good. it even has some of my own personal pet peeves #specifically the overabundance of narration boxes that aren't from a character and rather the author is speaking to us. #if I wanted an overabundance Authors Notes I would read fucking early 2000s fanfics #and Babsgirl existing but I've made peace with the fact that we'll only get an Oracle story in a Black Label or similar thing at this point #I love the art and it has among my favorite designs for both Spoiler and Black Bat #don't get me STARTED on the covers holy fuck. the 90s rewind in particular lives in my head rent free because ajlkdfjdsalk;fjdlsa;kf #it also has both moments of REALLY FUCKING BAD characterization and REALLY FUCKING GOOD characterization #Cass being like 'ok but do we HAVE to save Seer?' horrible! demonstrates an egregious misunderstanding of her. what the hell? #Steph being abnormally good at solving the Riddler's puzzles and knowing basically every cipher because of Arthur? then getting incredibly #upset at even the MENTION of him to the point that she gets fucking stabbed by the RIDDLER of all people? #wow thanks for actually addressing a very interesting part of Steph's character that is often left by the wayside. good job. #issue 14 is amazing and it makes me want to implode every time I read it. like I actually recommend it without any caveats attached #it is straight up good. it's the high-point of Batgirls and it's not even close imo. #and wow! there is almost no dialogue and NO NARRATION BOXES?? #it's almost like the whole appeal of comics is telling incredible stories through art or something. and that when you have good art #and good art direction you should just fucking let it speak for itself or something #and that maybe using what words you DO have to let your CHARACTERS speak in a way they normally wouldn't is a good idea #even if the in universe reason is that Steph is basically leaving this note as a 'I am either dead or close to it' type of thing #like holy fuck how did they do that?? AND SO LATE IN THE GAME THAT NOBODY FUCKING TALKS ABOUT IT?? #and obviously there is a conversation to be had about 'was Batgirls queerbaiting' but honestly since it was cancelled IDK #I could see a universe where given time it could have made a natural shift to a love story between Steph and Cass #I'm not upset about it but I get why other people might be. there are some panels that like...come on. #and as always I am most fascinated by missed potential. because Batgirls showed that it COULD be good with Issue 14 #and arguably other of the better issues. the art was incredible and as the issues went on it felt like the kinks were getting ironed out #plus getting a series focused on 3 of my favorite characters was a dream come true for me. ESPECIALLY because we rarely get good #stuff for Cass and Steph.

[holybibly]

ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 | 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idol!Au, s2l, fragment of life

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,9k

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Seven times you've been lucky, on the eighth Song Mingi from Ateez shows you a side of himself that his fans will probably never get to know.

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Pervert Idol! Mingi, Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, сreampie, sexual audio recording, rough sex, praise kink and more.

𝔸/ℕ: Wrote this overnight, it's really crazy. Gosh, I am so excited to show you the handsome Mingi who has become a favourite for an overnight train ride poll. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is one of the 4 pieces I've been working on. It brings us closer to a tender and sensual smut with Seonghwa (I'm still suffering from the idea).

I'll make a masterlist this weekend.

Comments, reblogs and questions are always welcome. I'm completely open to communication, so don't be shy bunnies. We have a safe space here.

Lots of love to you all. Have fun on your night train ride with Mingi.

dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Take care, darling; you never know what may happen. Especially in the night." Asa's voice was soft, but with a note of insistence.

"Asa, you don't have to worry so much. It's just a night train; I've done it a thousand times." You sigh tiredly, knowing it was pointless to argue with Asa, and yet, in a way, she was right. You never know what might happen at any given moment in your life.

"There's always a first time, Y/N. Take care, and be sure to text me when you get on the train."

"Sure, I will see you soon." You pull the sleeves of your shortened jumper tighter as you press the call disconnect button.

The night air is cool and fresh, dancing on your skin like a light breeze, crawling under the hem of your short skirt, tickling the soft, milky skin of your bare thighs. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you begin to regret your choice of clothing. It's too open and too revealing, both for the time of day and for the situation.

But it doesn't matter; the train is warm and cosy in its own way, and soon you'll be relaxing on the soft seats of the dark compartment under the peaceful rhythmic rocking, but most importantly, you'll be alone without the noise and bustle. Travelling to Tokyo is great, and you enjoy every second, but the crowds get tiring and the incessant noise starts to stress you out.

That is why an overnight train journey is a nice and relaxing change of pace.

It's a spontaneous trip to another city, just for a few days—a place quieter and more secluded than the never-sleeping Tokyo. Asa is waiting for you to finally join her, having travelled there the day before yesterday. Rumour has it that this is also the town where you're most likely to find the most Korean idols, who have come to relax in the luxurious hot springs.

They always come here to spend their long-awaited holidays without the constant camera surveillance and screaming fans. You didn't care if you met any of the celebrities there. Seeing a pretty face here and there was a nice bonus, but the main purpose of your trip was the hot springs and a few gourmet restaurants with high user ratings.

It's not that you were totally ignorant of idols; you were aware of many groups thanks to Asa and her crush on pretty boys, but you were a realist, and it was just stupid to have rosy dreams for a guy who had never seen you in his life, and if he had, he probably wouldn't remember you. That's why it didn't matter to you at all whether or not you met any of the pretty idols along the way.

You always thought night trains were the best way to travel. Travelling during the day is too hectic, too noisy, and too impractical. Instead of sitting in a stuffy metal box on wheels and wasting precious time, you could be doing something useful. There's always the chance of a night's rest, even if it's just for a few hours, and the next morning you'll be somewhere else, full of energy and good humour.

This was the seventh time you'd travelled by overnight train, and so far you'd considered yourself lucky. You were so grateful that you'd never had to share the confined space of your compartment with anyone else. The prospect of sleeping next to a stranger wasn't the most appealing one, and it would no doubt make you very nervous.

You cross your fingers in the hope that your luck will hold this time around. As you walk down the aisle of the train, you shift your gaze from your ticket to the small numbers on the tightly closed compartment doors. You try to find your seat. When you finally find it, you exhale with relief and push open the heavy sliding door. You are glad to be able to sit down and stretch your legs, taking off the most uncomfortable shoes in the world. It's first-class. The door opens silently and smoothly, allowing a thin strip of light from the narrow corridor into the secluded compartment, illuminating it with a bright yellow glow.

You've never thought about sharing your space with anyone else because you're so used to being alone. Except for a few passengers who seem to share your point of view, most people prefer to travel during the day, so the night trains are usually almost empty. Once your eyes get used to the changing light, you can't help but gasp at what you see.

"Oh!"

You're not alone. There's someone else in the semi-darkness of your compartment.

Someone from whom it seems impossible to take your eyes off, no matter how rude it might be of you to do so. There's a man sitting on the seat directly in front of you, with his legs spread wide open and his mobile phone held loosely in one hand. He is an incredibly attractive guy. You quickly look away, embarrassed that you're openly checking him out, as your eyes slide down his body. He's dressed in a black suit that hugs his thick thighs. God, this is embarrassing. His jacket is folded beside him, leaving him wearing a single black shirt and a few buttons undone on his chest, contrasting beautifully with his smooth golden skin.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his, and you gasped. You somehow know who those eyes belong to, and who doesn't? Two puddles of melted milk chocolate, the soft, sugary look of puppy dog eyes—Song Mingi, a gorgeous, cheeky rapper from Ateez. Oh, boy.

You swallow loudly at the realisation that your eyes aren't the only ones analysing the stranger in front of you.

"Good evening." You bow and lower your head as you realise that you've clearly been staring at the idol all this time. Suddenly, you feel so ashamed that you can't even imagine meeting his gaze again. In return, you get a small hum of approval from him and a polite nod of the head from him.

You finally decide to go inside and close the door behind you after a few seconds of awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot. The lights inside are rather dim, a bit of a nuisance despite the fact that they hardly illuminate your compartment at all, and you wonder if he would mind if you asked him to turn them off completely at some point. Eventually, it starts to make your sensitive eyes ache, but you don't want to make Mingi feel uncomfortable by asking for it.

The atmosphere was already awkward and strange, and you didn't want to make it worse. He must have decided to take the night train for the same reasons you did. And here you are, the two of you, strangers, although can you really call a guy the whole world knows a stranger? In the semi-darkness of a night compartment, without prying eyes or cameras.

The situation seemed to be stressful, and that's why you were so grateful that up until now you hadn't had to share your space with anyone else on overnight journeys. Even so, there was something strangely intoxicating and exhilarating about the whole thing.

Does it look like your luck has run out, or have you managed to grab it by the tail?

You take your bag off your shoulder and tiptoe up to put it on the luggage rack with your back to him. Unfortunately for you, you can't get to it. Right now you're cursing your short stature for looking utterly ridiculous in front of a good-looking guy, and not just any guy, but Song Mingi himself. You can feel the muscles in your legs tense up in pain as you try to stretch yourself up, and you have the feeling that the bag in your hands is getting heavier and heavier the more you try to put it on the shelf. It's so embarrassing that you let out a muffled, awkward laugh.

"I'll give you a hand with that." The unexpected touch of the palm of your hand against your lower back upsets your balance, and your body jerks.

Your head jumps up, goose bumps running up your arms and creeping down your back as you realise that Mingi is now standing next to you, too close to be considered decent. The scent of his woody, tart perfume fills the small space between you, and you long to bury your face in his broad, muscular chest and take a deep breath of him.

He easily takes the bag from you and sets it on top of the top compartment, the touch of his other hand still palpable—hot, confident, and somehow possessive—as it slides down, almost to the curve of your butt. 

You look down and suddenly realise how far your skirt has been pulled up. It now exposes most of your milky thighs and barely covers your bottom. Trying to look as decent as possible, you pull down the hem of your skirt with a soft squeak to get your clothes back in place. Your cheeks are flushed with shame and embarrassment. Looking up again, you realise that Mingi is watching you intently, watching every move of yours.

"You're so tiny." He says this, tilting his head to one side and letting the corner of his soft, plump pink lips curve up in a smirk.

Your heart flutters at the thought, perhaps a little more than it should be doing. You would never have thought that you would feel a strange mixture of emotions—something between excitement and extreme embarrassment—over something so trivial, perhaps even offensive.

"Maybe you're the one that's too tall." You realise this and immediately feel sorry for yourself, desperately wanting to put your hand over your mouth. God, can't you just make yourself look even stupider in his eyes? You shouldn't have said that aloud.

In response to your words, Mingi hums and raises an eyebrow. There is a gleam of amusement in his beautiful brown eyes; your comment seems to amuse him. Your cheeks heat up from the blush that is spreading over them, but you're grateful for the playful reaction; it makes the situation a little less weird and awkward.

You really should sit back in your seat and shut up so you don't say too much, something along the lines of, "You look absolutely stunning in that suit; can I sit on your lap?".

Eventually, you turn your attention to the hand still on your hip, and the sight of his long fingers adorned with massive rings makes your knees tremble more than you'd like to admit.

When he pulls away, you find that the loss of his touch is making you feel as cold as ice. You quickly come to your senses and sit down on the opposite side of the idol, who follows your lead and settles down in his own seat.

You take out your phone and text Asa, as promised. God, you'll have so much to talk about when you meet. Awkwardly crumpling the hem of your skirt, you wait for the train to depart. For a long minute, there is silence in the compartment—an utterly awkward, embarrassing silence.

Every time you cast a quick glance towards Mingi, you notice that his eyes don't seem to leave you for a second. He presses the tip of his tongue lightly against the corner of his plump, beautiful lips, as if analysing your every move.

It makes you nervous to be in your own skin.

"I'm Mingi." Your ears perk up in an instant as soon as he starts to speak again.

When he says his name, his voice sounds so soft, soothing, and confident. You can't remember the last time you've been so attracted to another man's voice. It makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, and maybe, just maybe, it makes you squeeze your thighs a little harder than you should.

 

This is messed up.

"I know." You answer quietly. This is a fucking embarrassment. You decide you've humiliated yourself enough in front of him, so after a moment, you add. "Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Ah, so you know, eh?" He smiles brightly, and you somehow melt. "And here I was thinking' we were just strangers to each other. That's not a problem for you, Y/N, is it?" The way he says your name takes your breath away from you. It's something in his nature—a hidden but imposing dominance, so deep with a quiet note of authority. There were darker layers lurking beneath that image of sweet charm.

You have no idea why he has such an effect on you, but it's safe to say the overwhelming feeling is not entirely unwelcome.

"No, no, it's fine." You wave your hands in an awkward manner. "It should have been my turn to ask if it was OK. At a time like this, I guess you didn't expect anyone else to be using the train." Your cheeks flushed, and you nervously bit your lower lip.

"How cute."

You bring your hand up to your face and press it against your hot cheeks, trying to cool them down a little. Cute! It's a real miracle that you manage to stop yourself from squealing enthusiastically.

"Are you going travelling, Y/N?" He tilts his head to the side in an interested way, like a curious puppy, and you can't help but smile in response to that.

.

"Yes, to the hot springs." Looking anywhere but at Mingi, you reply humbly.

"Ah, I see. Takayu Onsen?"

"Tamagawa Onsen, actually."

At your words, the idol nods understandingly, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips. God, can he get any more handsome?

"Of course it's Tamagawa. Somehow I can't imagine you anywhere else; this place is your kind of place. Then you're stuck with me. I'm going there too; the boys and I have to spend a few days there before the concerts." He says it in such an easy and casual way. As if you've known each other for a long time.

"Um, it's quite a long trip. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" You ask Mingi, vaguely hoping that you'll be able to sneak away from him and find yourself comfortably alone again. For some reason, his presence makes you feel very uncomfortable and makes you tingle. There's something special about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"It's fine. Really, don't worry." Mingi settled himself more comfortably in his seat and spread his long legs a little further apart, causing the tight fabric of his suit trousers to stretch and outline the contours of his gorgeous, muscular thighs. His whole posture seemed to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." "Actually, I'm the one who should be asking if your boyfriend is upset that you will spent the night with another man." There is something about the way he says it that makes you tense up inside, but you ignore it completely and answer quietly instead, crossing your legs shyly.

"I've no boyfriend." And without knowing it, you give him exactly the answer that Mingi wanted. "I'm just on a road trip with a friend." Shying away from making full eye contact with him, his gaze so intense and focused, your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as you speak.

When he speaks again, you can almost hear the smile in Mingi's deep voice.

"Then I hope you'll enjoy it fully."

Silence falls over you once more. You keep looking at your shoes, desperately wanting to take them off and curl up on the soft seat. But Mingi's presence prevents you from relaxing completely. As the train sets in motion, you give a slight jerk. Midnight, it's now. It will take about eight hours to get to Tamagawa, and you should arrive at the station in the morning.

You let your eyes slide down from your shoes to Mingi's legs in stealth. His thighs are so muscular and strong that he could probably squeeze you between them, and you wouldn't be able to move an inch, trapped as you were under his tall, strong body. You feel warm between your legs, and you bite your lower lip, hoping Mingi is too busy phoning to notice you're staring at his thighs. And you have to push away the thought of how nice it would be to ride one of those beautiful, thick thighs and rub your pussy against it.

"This is a beautiful pendant. It looks good on you." The sound of Mingi's voice makes you jerk, and you raise your eyes to him fearfully.

Instinctively, you press your fingers against the gleaming heart of crystal that sits on your chest. It's massive—heavy on your chest, glimmering cold, hard to miss.

"Thanks; it's my favourite too." The compliment takes you completely by surprise, but at the same time, it brings a slight, sweet pout to your lips.

Mingi can't help but think about what that pendant is going to look like between your naked tits while you're being scolded like there's no tomorrow. He can bet that it's going to be fucking amazing. His plump lips curl up in a smirk.

"Do you always wear it?" Contextual question: When you get fucked, do you take it off?

"Yes. It's my lucky charm." As if to warm it up, your fingers wrap around the large crystal, rubbing it a little. "It always brings me good luck."

"How appropriate." Mingi observes, chuckling grimly.

For an idol, Mingi seems inordinately interested in learning more about you, but you naively chalk it up to a trivial lack of social contact and a limited opportunity to see the world without the constant scrutiny of managers and the attention of cameras.

You're too enamoured with his sweet, playful personality, reminiscent of a big, soft puppy. You'll fancy yourself under his scrutiny and answer all his questions, even the ones that make you blink in confusion or blush hotly. Mingi is a real sweetheart, and you can totally agree with his fans: He's such a nice, nice guy. Little do you know about him...

He does it almost mechanically, moving his hands so you can't take your eyes off them, twirling the massive silver rings on his long phalanges, touching his plush, juicy lips with his fingertips, and noticing the beautiful gel on his nails. Your body reacts to his every move; your lower abdomen feels pleasantly tight, and you can feel a faint throbbing between your legs every time he smiles at you, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm nervously in your seat.

"Sorry for asking so many questions. You know it's not always easy to talk to someone." He lowers his eyes shyly and bites his plump lip. You immediately try to put his concern at ease.

"I get it; being an idol must be hard, having to be in control all the time."

Damn, you were so right; you'd run away from him as soon as you opened the door to the compartment if you only knew what dirty, lustful thoughts he's having about you and how his sweet smile hides a passionate desire to push you into the padded seat and fuck you so hard you can't think or walk.

But Mingi was good at it. He could control his face and body very well, thanks to Seonghwa's great example. He had taught him only the best.

"You must be tired; if you want, we can turn off the light and you can go to bed." Mingi said, noticing that you were rubbing your eyes more and more, stumbling over your own words, and yawning all the time. "You can trust me; I'll take care of you, Y/N." The tone is so sweet, too sweet, to hide the true meaning of what he's saying: Sweetheart, I want to jerk off to your sleepy, pretty face as you relax in my presence—so seductive and vulnerable.

That deep, honeyed tone inevitably makes your thighs clench, but with it comes a flood of guilt as you feel your panties get wet, and dirty thoughts put you in such an uncomfortable position that you have to fidget awkwardly on the seat, praying by all that is holy that your embarrassing arousal goes unnoticed and you don't leave a wet spot on the seat.

"Are you sure?" You're terribly tired from the day. The offer is so tempting, and Mingi is so charming and respectful. A real gentleman.

Mingi smiles softly, but it is a smile that looks a little predatory at the edges as his big, hot palm comes down on your bare knee. It sends a shiver down the length of your skin.

"Sure, go to bed, doll."

You feel yourself blushing again, but you can't tell why—the heavy, hot touch of his hand against your skin or the caressing nickname. God, this guy is a threat. You give a slow nod and turn your gaze to the dimly lit wall sconce on the wall. Mingi follows your eyes and reaches up to turn it off, plunging the entire compartment into a pleasant darkness. The faint, diffused light of the moon through the window is the only source of light that allows you to see each other's faces. A smile of gratitude is on your face in response to his actions.

"Thanks, I had no idea how much my eyes were hurting."

"You're welcome, doll."

You try to ignore the way his voice seems to sink lower. It takes on such a velvety, dark tone that it makes you even wetter between your legs. You pull back. Mingi has been so sweet and polite to you all this time; you should be ashamed of these feelings.

As you lean back in the empty seat beside you and close your heavy eyelids, the touch of his hand fades. You feel a strange comfort in Mingi's company, despite your earlier apprehension at being so vulnerable in the company of a stranger. Despite being a world-famous star and just a damn gorgeous man, he really is so kind and attentive to you. You do not dare to doubt what he says. Mingi has promised to take care of you, and you are strangely comforted by the thought. In fact, he really is a very caring man. You begin to suspect that this is true for all of them.

Before you close your eyes again, you look at Mingi. His dark gaze is fixed on you, and there is something raw in the depths of those chocolate-coloured irises of his. The moonlight falling on him makes his chiselled face look sharper and sexier, and there is no longer the sweet smile and adorable puppy-dog expression on his handsome features. It makes you take a sharp breath before your fluttering eyelids stay closed, weighed down by sleep. Your whole body relaxes, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by the peaceful rocking of the train and the calm presence of Mingi.

Mingi just can't take his eyes off you. You look so tiny, so soft and juicy with your plump arse and the most delicious pair of tits he's ever seen. They're perfect to hold in his hands and his hands are just itching to squeeze them into his palms, feel their weight, pull on those pink nipples until you start wriggling and sobbing. Oh, how he wants to hear the sweet sounds you make as he fills you with his cock, or even better, as you moan out his name.

For tonight at least, he just wants to have you. Mingi isn't at all picky about where he wants to get laid; a night train isn't the worst option. He's been fucked in more uncomfortable places than this. But that wouldn't be very nice of him. Would it? He said he'd look after you while you slept so innocently in front of him in that seductive little skirt. He wonders if you're wearing lace or silk knickers. It's probably silk, because you look as if you're enjoying the light and soft touch of the silk fabric against your sweet pussy. You must also be very sensitive.

Y/N. He is absolutely mesmerised by you. Everything about you is so enticing. The way your round cheeks blush, the beautiful way you smile, and especially the way you squeeze your thighs together every time he turns to you. You are a little slut. Mingi is absolutely delighted with how he's making you feel. He makes you nervous. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin even more.

But if Mingi has learned anything by now, it's that despite your best efforts, you're not a very subtle person. In fact, you're easy to read. Your petite body gives you away all the time. Your teeth bite your plump lower lip until it's swollen and red. Your eyes never leave his hands as he deliberately plays with his rings, causing you to lose your train of thought. You're probably thinking about him using his fingers to stretch your tight hole or using his fingers to fuck your soft, wet mouth. Mingi's sure he'll have to spend enough time getting you to take three fingers in your cunt before lowering you on his cock, and maybe you'll even let him play with your virgin arse. Hell, he'll beg you if he must. Fuck his pride at the prospect of being the first to fuck your plump arse. He's going to have to make a video of himself fucking you so stupid and so deep. San is going to go mad when he sees your juicy arse blushing under the palms of his hands and and jiggling seductively every time he enters you up to your balls.

You are definitely something special.

That's what Mingi tells himself over and over and over again. He's just reaching out to you. Nothing more than that.

Just like he promised, he'll take care of you. You'll feel good, and getting his dick wet will be a nice bonus for him.

He takes another good look at your beautiful face as he leans forward in his seat. Your lips are wet, plump and parted, and he can't help but imagine how beautiful they would look stretched around his big cock. You're going to have to practise getting yourself to swallow his dick whole, you probably won't get more than a quarter of him the first time. The thought of it is the cause of the salivation in his mouth. 

Your eyelashes are touching the top of your cheeks, your soft dark hair is beautifully curled up in ringlets, and Mingi wants to mess it up and pull it out. You look absolutely angelic. A real doll. Mingi has never seen an angel before. He can't be blamed for his desire to have a touch and to defile.

Idol or not, Mingi is just a man. 

It all begins with a small movement of his fingers over the kneecap of his knee to the top of his thigh. He can feel how his touch raises the goose bumps on your skin. Mingi feels bolder and lowers his palm all the way down to your thigh, letting it rest gently on your body, and then gently reaches up to the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. At the sight, Mingi licks his lips. It would be easier if he came closer. Would it?

As he kneels down, he places his other hand on your leg, now touching both of your thighs. Your skirt rises with each touch of Mingi's eager hands, lifting the fabric higher and higher each time. He glances over your voluptuous body, his gaze lingering on the spot where your sweater has risen, exposing the soft skin of your stomach and the peeking lower half of your bra. Fuck. He can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but he knows it must be the creamy silk that covers your full breasts. That makes him dig his fingertips harder into your skin.

You move in your sleep, shifting until you're on your back, giving Mingy full access without even wanting it. It's as if you want to make it even easier for his dirty hands to touch your chaste, tantalised body. When he sees an opportunity, Mingy never says no. Carefully, he slides one hand under your skirt while the other continues to massage your thigh in a soothing way. Confirming his earlier thought, his fingers are impatient and run briefly over your panties. They're silk, and they're wet as hell. You're soaked through, and he's already decided that he's definitely taking your panties with him. He'll be sure to jerk off in them when he has a bit of free time later.

"Oh, dolly, you're so damn wet." Mingi moans hoarsely as his fingers slowly slide over the wet material, rubbing it. The furrowed brow quickly disappeared, and the doll's lips parted in a perfect 'o', a short sob escaping from them. "Precious little one."

Your legs twitch in an attempt to squeeze Mingi's forearm, but he quickly calms you, spreading your thighs with his free hand and smiling carnivorously at the soft squeal that escapes your lips as you feel long fingers play with your plump clit through your underwear. If the fans knew what their adored idol was doing, they'd be going crazy. But they probably already knew. Considering the number of female fans they've fucked over the years, the information has leaked out somewhere in the tight circle of their fandom.

Mingi decides he doesn't like the silk barrier. He slides his hand under the silk of your panties and touches the wet warmth of your cunt, making his trousers suddenly feel too tight around his crotch.

As if he'd just discovered a new toy that he wanted to touch and explore before playing with it, he let himself explore the wetness. You are soaking wet, and Mingi can feel that he is gradually losing all self-control and all control over himself. He wants to taste you; he wants to feel you on his tongue; he doesn't even mind rubbing his face against you like a dog. The pressure of his thumb against your throbbing clit finally seems to wake you up. You gasp and begin to open your sleepy eyes. You look around in confusion. Then you let out a startled cry as you noticed Mingi crouching beside you, one hand between your thighs.

"Shhhh." As your legs begin to convulse, Mingi quickly reassures you. "It's all right, doll; it's just me. You can go back to sleeping if you want to. I'll take care of the rest." He whispers it in a velvety, soothing voice, as if he were trying to lure a kitten into his arms.

You still seem to be very disoriented; your eyes are not quite open, and you are whimpering in despair and shame at finding yourself in a situation for which you were totally unprepared. Mingi kneels before you. Song Mingi is kneeling before you with his hand pressed against your pussy. 

It is Mingi's wish that he could do away with all your worries and nerves. He knows he could, if only you would stop squeezing your legs so tightly around his hand.

"M-Mingi, what..." There's a sharp exhale from you at last, as if you're coming to terms with the situation. "What are you doing?"

The idol gives you a seductive smile.

"You looked like you needed help, doll. So needy and restless. Let me help you, huh? Let me take care of you, Y/N." Mingi leans down on your thigh to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it. When he lifts his eyes up to you, they're bright and languorous, but with that adorable puppy-dog expression that's so well known to his fans.

"I'm going to take good care of you."

You resist, still stunned by the sight and situation you woke up from, and bring your hands to your chest, unconsciously wrapping your arms around the heart-shaped pendant for reassurance. Mingi allows her fingers to continue doing what they were doing before, slowly circling over your clit, causing you to catch your breath. Your small hand reaches out for Mingi's palm, which is still gripping your thigh tightly, the nails digging into his skin.   "Y-you shouldn't do that. You...you can't act that way; what  if?"You sob in a convulsive manner, your glassy eyes meeting Mingi's. Sexy, gorgeous, and lecherous Mingi, the sweet image of him completely shattered, towers over you even in this position. Despite your words, your body has its own opinion: your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and your breasts are rising and falling rapidly. The way your thighs are still trying to squeeze together and the way more and more moisture is dripping onto Mingi's fingers is a clear sign of approval for his actions to continue.

You're so easy to read. Mingi loves it. He's always liked the more responsive and sensitive type better. For him, what a pleasure it is to fuck them, dumb and docile.

"And why shouldn't I be, huh?" Mingi says as he intertwines his fingers with yours and leans forward to run his nose along your thigh, too close to your pussy. He takes a deep breath. Fuck, you smell delicious and his drool starts to flow. "Because I'm an idol? Is it because I have to be good and obedient? Or is it because you don't want me to, because it seems like that's all you ever think about? Have you had a dirty dream about me? You used to moan so much in your sleep, Y/N."

You hesitate, closing your slanted cat eyes and letting the feel of Mingi's touch envelop you, your lips pressed together to hold back a loud moan. He can already feel you giving in, even though you haven't answered him.

He's good at cajoling. Again, thank Seonghwa for that.

"We shouldn't..." You whine as one of Mingi's long fingers teases at your wet entrance, and the thought of that finger plunging into you makes you shudder. 

"We can do what we want to do, or don't you want to do that? Don't you want me?" He purses his lips, pretending to offend. "You like me. Don't you? I'm your favourite boy, right?"

You nod, feeling more depressed by the second, unable to form a coherent thought. How could that have been the case? You must be dreaming. Dreaming that Mingi of Ateez is kneeling before you.

Oh my God!

"Use your words, doll. Say, "I want you." Speak my name." The idol continues to coax you, and you give in, much to the delight of the Mingi.

"I want you, Mingi." You do your best to keep your eyes on Mingi as you speak, but his gaze is too intense and too strong, and you feel terribly embarrassed. He looks almost predatorily.

Mingi grins fiercely and slowly licks his lips. His finger slides lightly into your wet cunt. In response to this, he hears an intermittent sigh of pleasure from you.

"What a good girl."

You sound so precious as he bends his finger inside you, feeling your velvety walls. Wetness drips down his massive silver rings to the base of his fingers. Mingi wants to record your sweet sounds and include them in the next track so everyone can hear how well he pleases you. He should do it, damned. Hongjoong will be burning with envy when he hears about you. The captain has a weakness for sweet little girls who moan and groan. Fucking pervert.

Mingi lets go of your hand to pick up his forgotten phone from the floor, still finger-fucking you. He quickly opens the audio recording application, hits the 'record' button, and drops the phone on the floor next to him, giving his full attention back to you.

You are so in need of his touch. You can't deny your desire for him. Your body speaks for itself.

"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let everyone hear what a dirty girl you are. Come on. What do you say we put some of your beautiful moans and groans on our new track? Mmm, you're going to hear it all over the place; every time you will remember how good it felt when I fucked your little, tight cunt."

"Oh God, that's... You can't say that." You whimper.

"Don't be embarrassed, gorgeous. Let's get you out of those pretty little knickers so you can sing even more sweetly for me." You nod impatiently, breathing heavily as Mingi helps you to lift your hips and pull your knickers off, quickly slipping them into his pocket. He was quite serious when he said that he wanted to take them with him.

Now that your pussy is fully exposed, Mingi takes the liberty of spreading your legs wide open and stares intently at the clear liquid that oozes out of your hole, causing you to whimper and cover your face in shame. He leans down to leave a hot scarlet and purple hickey on the inside of your thigh.

"Look at how wet you are, fuck." Mingi moans in a guttural voice as his fingers push your folds apart so that they are completely covered in your slick, glistening juices. "You've had a dirty dream, haven't you, baby?"

Your eyes are closed, and your long lashes are fluttering. Your plump lower lip is trapped between your front teeth. You're such a spectacle; oh, how he wants to fuck your brains out. In response to his question, you nod your head shyly.

"Y-yes."

Your embarrassment excites Mingi even more as he slaps your pussy, finally giving in to his perverted desires and feeling the moisture splash against his palm. You let out a shrill squeal, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

"Must have been something fucking satisfying, getting your little cunt that wet, huh?" He grins lecherously as he looks at you. You look tasty enough to make him want to eat you alive.

He should really thank the manager for getting him a ticket on that special train.

Your legs twitched, trying to close, but Mingi's hand stiffly stopped them before letting them close around his forearm. You're so overwhelmed by all the sensations, but you're not at all ready for them to stop.

"I... I don't remember. Maybe I was thinking of you. Or maybe someone else." Having heard from Asa about the jealous nature of the group, you say this deliberately. All of the members were very possessive of their fans and very aggressive towards them. Why should they look to anyone else when they are right here, ready to make all their fans' dreams come true?

Mingi bristled. Sinking his teeth into your thigh and forcing his finger into you, making his ring stick to the sensitive rim of your used hole. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure mix together and turn your thoughts into mush.

"With my fingers fucking you like this, don't you fucking dare say that." He growls, the deep sound of it vibrating against your skin. Mingi slides a second finger inside of you, the two of them gliding through the wetness with ease and a loud slurping sound. "You will think only of me all the time. There is no one who can be better than me, doll."

You throw your head back, your chest rising and falling in a quick motion. The velvety walls of your pussy clench around Mingi's fingers. The sound of your moaning rises as the idol runs his fingers along the plush and tantalising walls of your vagina. They seem to just suck him in. You're so tiny all over, and he wonders if you can take all his cock.

"It's only you, Mingi." The way you howl out his name is all the answer that Mingi needs to hear.

The idol can't resist the temptation to lean forward and put his face between your thighs. His lust takes over; the sight is too exciting. All he had to do was find out if you tasted as sweet as you looked. The reaction is immediate: his tongue is licking a flat line from your slit to your clit, which he is circling greedily in between his plump lips. Your soft thighs tremble, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with a long moan, and your little hands cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, oh, God!" You let out a gasp, a barely audible whimper, your nails digging into the hard flesh beneath your tight-fitting shirt. Mingi is hoping that you are going to scratch him to a bloody pulp. Hell, he's in need of it.

You drive him crazy with your cuteness. Your juices are flowing in abundance all over his tongue. It tastes amazing, just the way he imagined it would, and Mingi thinks that he could get drunk on you. Fuck, he'll be bragging about you for days to come, rubbing it in the faces of the members. What a sweet thing he's managed to get his hands on. He could probably sit there and do that for hours, even days, licking that pretty little cunt of yours until his jaw hurts and his whole face is wet. He may have oral fixation, but that's not something he's going to want to put on his profile.

He sucks furiously on your swollen clit as his fingers begin to penetrate your tight hole, the wet, squelching sounds drowning out the sound of a train rumbling down the tracks. You're just perfect—too perfect for Mingi to ignore and not fuck. You literally taste heaven, and your voice sounds like sin—hot moans of uncontrollable pleasure.

"I...will...ahhh...M-Mingi..." You whimper, pressing your hand to your own mouth, and Mingi passionately wants to stop you and tell you that there's no better sound for his ears than your moaning. But the rational part of his brain, which sounds strangely like Seonghwa, tells him that it's for the best and that it's wise not to attract the attention of outsiders. "Please!"

You beg, and it's beautiful, your words muffled by the small palm of your hand but still clearly audible to him. Your back arched as you pushed your hips forward, forcing Mingi's fingers to dig deeper into you. You squeeze them so hard that the idol can barely move them inside of you at all. You squeeze them so hard that Mingi's chest vibrates with a rather low purr, which only drives you more wildly and adds to the pleasure, finally taking you to an unexpected peak as you cum profusely on Mingi's waiting tongue and fingers. You are flowing everywhere, and Mingi is greedily drinking it all in, insatiable in his quest to bring you to yet another orgasm, to make you so silly and submissive in his hands. He will take it all and more from you.

Mingi is so hungry for you, and you are so juicy and ripe, perfect for eating.

The second orgasm makes your whole body shake, and the stimulation is almost painful. Your hips jerk in Mingi's tight grip as he digs his fingertips into the plush, creamy skin. He simply can't get enough of you. He marvels at how dishevelled you look, lifting his dark gaze. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed, your skirt is pulled up high over your hips, and your cropped sweater almost completely exposes your bra. But it is your sweet mouth that beckons him to you completely. Beautiful, plump lips, slick with saliva and bite marks. They have been opened to let out gorgeous moans of his name and heavy, puffed-up sighs. He will crawl up your body like a predator until his face, soaked with your juices, is hanging over you.

Mingi is a big man—tall, strong, and nicely pumped up—his stunning figure completely covering you and trapping you underneath him.

You gasp for breath, still in a hazy post-orgasmic stupor, your glazed eyes meeting Mingi's, and you whimper as big, rough hands slide down your sides. He easily encompasses your boobs with ease, squeezing them with a force that causes them to fall out from under your bra.

"What big, juicy tits you have. Mmm, you can't be a better doll." Your embarrassed squeal is swallowed whole as Mingi kisses you passionately. Your tongues meet in an exchange of saliva and heavy breathing. On his lips, you can taste your own slime. It's rough, but you like it that way.

He slides his hands under your bra and massages your breasts, pinching your nipples with his fingers in a teasing way that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

"The most beautiful and seductive pair of tits, so soft and heavy in my hands, I could just fuck them, couldn't I? Would you like that doll?" He whispers as he bites down on your lips and sinks his teeth into the soft, tender flesh. To be honest, he'd like to tear your lips into a bloody mess, but that's probably for another time.

Right now, he wants to use you. He wants to finally get his cock inside you and fuck you into a stupor. As if you could read his mind, your trembling hands reach out for his crotch.

"You want my cock, darling?" He moves his hips gently, and you feel his huge, hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers.

"Yes, yes, I want your cock so badly, Mingy." You're not as shy as you used to be; your desires are overpowering your modesty. And you don't have to ask twice as Mingi leans back and quickly unbuckles his belt, and you reach out for it, drawn to his sensual lips. 

You would never admit it, but his lips were driving you crazy—those gorgeous, plump lips—moist and inviting, making you want to suck on them like a leech and never let go. You wanted to feel them all over your body.

Mingi quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Your tiny hands grabbed his shirt collar, trying to pull him as close as possible, and you licked his neck with your soft tongue. He's never met anyone so desperate to be touched. The way you whimper into his neck, kiss him randomly, and smear saliva over his lips and chin drives him wild. You're definitely his favourite—the best girl he's ever fucked in recent times, if maybe ever. He should tell the members about you; he should let them hear your beautiful, needy moans with the endless repetition of his name; he'll shove your wet panties right in their faces, damn it.

With one firm hand, Mingi holds you by the waist while the other pulls his boxers down until they are low enough for him to pull out his thick, aching cock. Running his thumb over the swollen, wet head, he squeezes the heavy length into his palm. You whimper and look up at him with your eyes wide open as his fingers grab your chin and pull you away from his neck. So perfect you look—dishevelled, tits bulging from your bra, skirt crumpled, and gathered around your hips as you desperately grab his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible.

Mingi's desire is to destroy you completely.

"On your knees, dolly."

You are so relentless in your desire to please the man who is in front of you. As you obediently lower yourself to the carpeted floor—rough enough for your delicate knees—Mingi's hands run through your hair. You're too mesmerised by the sight in front of you—a gorgeous man, a world-famous idol, by the way—stroking his big cock lazily, looking too amazing to remain indifferent.

"Do you want to try it?" You drool. The only answer you can give is an impatient moan that tells Mingi all he needs to know.   You're so desperate; you've never wanted to take someone's cock in the mouth so much. It would probably be so hard on your tongue because Mingi looks so big.

You're not quite sure if you can take the whole thing or just half of it. You know it'll bulge out of your throat if you do. You're so focused on thinking about it that you only come when the hot head of Mingi's cock begins to circle your smooth, swollen lips. He lets out a deep, low moan and the sound is pure porn. You can bet your bottom dollar that Mingi can make an entire concert hall cum at once just by moaning into the microphone. Fuck, their concerts must be wild.

Your mouth falls open in impatience as you look up at him with your eyes glazed over.

"You are such a good girl." Mingi whispers, holding back a moan as your tongue sticks out to lick the drop of pre-cum that is leaking from the head of his cock. He's sure that you've only been made for sucking his cock.

It's so easy to lead you; you're docile, submissive, eager for pleasure, and desperate for the praise that comes with it. The further your mouth descends onto his cock, the bigger and brighter your eyes become, full of pleading as you look up at Mingy, watching how he reacts, wanting to know if you're doing well. Mingi knows that if he were to send your picture to the members right now, it would cause a universal heart attack. They're absolute wimps for obedient little girls that they can scold and use at will.

"Look at you." He takes a sharp breath and runs his thumbs over your pouting cheeks. You look wickedly adorable, and perhaps Mingi is tempted to shove his cock even deeper down your throat, so that you choke on it and begin to sob. "You bruised your knees just so you could suck my cock. How did I get to be so lucky?"

The stifled moan that you let out is accompanied by a thrust of your hips that makes you feel like you are starting to choke. You try your best to relax your jaw as much as possible, holding back the coughing that starts to bubble up in your throat and forcing yourself to calm down. You look at Mingi through the protruding tears and blink your eyes slowly, waiting for the idol to start to fuck you down your throat. He takes no more than a second to realise what you're proposing.

"Want me to fuck your mouth, baby?" Your strangled moan stops momentarily as Mingi moves his hips again, pushing further into the enveloping wet heat, throwing your head back as you accept his heavy, massive length without complaining. "Damn beautiful, such a pretty cock slut."

Your lips tingle around the suggestive girth, and your cheeks are warm from the praise and effort you've put into his pleasure. You look so dishevelled right now, saliva dripping from your chin down your neck and between your heavy tits falling out of your bra. Your knees are red from rubbing against the rough carpet, your eyes are wet and red from unshed tears, and a small puddle of your secretions is also collecting underneath you, dripping freely from your quivering cunt. You haven't even been fucked yet, and you probably look as fucked as you feel. Even though you have every hope that you will be soon.

When Mingi suddenly yanks you by the hair and pulls you away from his cock, you make a half-squeaky sound and look at him with a crying, hurt look on your face, as if your favourite toy has just been taken away from you. Mingi leans down and pulls you to him for a dirty kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and licking it from the inside to the outside as he tastes himself. 

It may be disgusting, but your moans are enthusiastic, and you enjoy every second of it.

"You're so beautiful, dolly. What am I going to do with you?" His words are breathed in through searing kisses, the lips sliding together at random, smearing saliva and mucus all over. Damn, this is unrealistically hot—all of his fantasies coming to life in a beautiful girl who just happens to be sharing a compartment with him on the night train. "Maybe I should have you with me for an introduction to the other members? How would you like it if I were to fuck that obliging mouth of yours off in front of the whole group?"

Enjoying his praise and such a tantalising prospect, you whimper again. Being their whore isn't such a bad option, to be honest; as long as you're fed and well fucked, it's enough to have fun.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart. You're literally a pollination." Mingi's deep, velvety whisper tickles your ears. He reaches out to take the palm of your hand and cradle it against his cock. 

It's a heavy, hot length, resting perfectly in the palm of your hand, and you long to feel it inside of you. It's big, big enough to send you to heaven with every thrust, and the big head hits you right on the cervix with every thrust of those skilled hips. God bless his dancing skills, because, as you know, dancers can fuck like gods.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" You gasp as Mingi's big hand glides over yours, both of them sliding up and down his hard cock in a confident manner. "With your beautiful eyes and the beauty of your face, Perfect, sweet lips, perfect for the sucking of my cock." He bites down on the torn lower lip you have bitten and kissed and pulls it into his mouth, then pulls back to give you a chaste kiss on your swollen mouth. "All of this is just for me."

Leaning completely on Mingi in front of you, your weak legs have long since stopped supporting you. Your beautiful mouth is open a little, a small whimper escaping from the depths of your throat as you savour the praise that is pouring down upon you. It makes you feel so damn good.

"You are such a delicious girl." Mingi moans as he bites down hard on one of your lips. He turns you around and pushes you in front of him until you find yourself pressing your face first against the fogged-up window. You look out, eyes wide open. There is nothing on the road, just wide fields whizzing by in a fast, blurred image. But something about the thought of somehow seeing how Mingi is fucking you stupid in front of windows makes you wet. Your pussy clenches against nothing. You arch your back and your plump, soft arse, trying to rub against Mingi's cock.

His commanding hand pulls one of your buttocks back to reveal your wet cunt and virgin anal opening. Fuck, you look so delicious. He thinks about pushing his face into your pussy once more and licking you until the morning comes. Next time, he says to himself, shaking his head in the hope that the urge will go away. His hair is falling down over his eyes, giving him that same vicious look that makes their fans go crazy for them. 

"I'm going to fuck you like this." Mingi whispers, clenching the lobe of your ear with his teeth. "You'll be a good girl, and you'll be quiet for me so that nobody else can hear how good and how deep I'm fucking you. Do you understand me?"

The rough, big palm slapping your mouth muffled the impatient moan you made as the head of Mingi's cock pushed your sticky folds apart from behind.

"What I told you, doll. If you want to feel me inside you, you need to hear it. I can tease you all night long and play with your lusty little pussy if you are naughty." His words are disapproving and you do a quick nod of understanding. You're going to be good for him. You know you can. You will do everything Mingi asks of you and fulfil his every wish.

Mingi continues to tease you, enjoying the stuttering moans that are muffled by his hand as his cock slides between your folds, rubbing against your clit but never penetrating you. The bulging head of his cock clings to the edge of your throbbing hole and you want to start begging for it. It's agonising, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration at how much you want to feel the thick, long Mingi's cock inside you.

"Have I upset you, doll?" Mingi cooed at the sound of your sobs. "You want my cock so badly. Don't you?" Confirming his words, you nodded mindlessly. "Baby, you know how much I love you; I can't upset my fans." One second you're empty, needy, and throbbing with anticipation, and the next Mingi's thick cock is shoved deep inside you, your oozing hole struggling to get used to his massive size.

A wheeze bursts from your lungs at the intensity of the thrust, your breasts pressed against the window. Your nipples are hardening from the cold of the glass and are becoming even more sensitive than they were before. It's so painful and so good that you're on the verge of tears.

"So perfect, if only you could see the way your beautiful cunt is taking my cock in. I thought you'd have to be stretched for that, but what a pleasant surprise; you don't need it." The sultry purr makes you roll your eyes. His voice is a damned aphrodisiac, making you dumber and wetter, your juices squirting around his cock with every sinful move he make of his hips. Mingi fucks like a god; you were right about him.

You whimper weakly as your nipples rub against the cold glass of the window. Rationality has left you completely. Drool flows freely into Mingi's palm, which is still clamped over your mouth. Your legs turn to jelly as Mingi holds you with a strong arm around your waist, sliding hard in and out of your wet cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Somewhere far away, your mind is foggy. All it can think about is how good you feel and how much you want this to never end. It's like you're addicted to a drug and you need more Mingi—more, more, and more.

The narrow, velvety walls of your vagina close in over Mingi's dick, pulling him inside and holding him in what feels like a soft vice. Mingi's low, deep moans, the slapping against skin, and the loud, rhythmic squelching echo around you. It's so damned loud, even when he's holding back, and you can't help imagining what it would sound like elsewhere. This must be in their dorm; the rooms are soundproof because he's a terribly loud, whining, moaning mess.Two long fingers slide into your mouth and onto your tongue. You gurgle around them, sucking hard, the cold of the rings burning you, and it's so erotic.

"The best for me." That's all Mingi has to say to you before his thrusts get faster and faster, becoming almost aggressive as he presses you up against the window, his muscular thighs slapping against your plump arse.

All you can do is take what you're given and lick his fingers deep into your mouth as his massive cock fucks the life out of you. You throb and whip your juices around him. As your orgasm hits you, you rest your head on Mingi's shoulder. You arch up and shake with your whole body. Mingi's cock is still thrusting into you. He is having a hard time moving because you are squeezing him so hard. He doesn't stop hitting you, he moves his hips in a calculated way, hitting that special spot that makes you want to see the stars. It's almost mocking. The intense stimulation is searing, almost maddening, as if you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

"That's it, doll. You look so beautiful when you cum so hard. Maybe I should fuck you on stage before all the fans, so they can see what a pretty face you make when my cock is so deep inside you." Teeth sink into your shoulder, and you give a weak whimper. "Or maybe you want me to film it so that I can jerk off any time I feel like it? Tonight I'm going to watch you cum over and over and over again."

Mingi seems to really mean what he says, because it's pretty clear from the way he keeps moving inside of you that he won't be satisfied until he's gotten a few more out of you. His endurance is something rabbits would envy. Mingi fucks like an animal, but it's fucking splendidly.

You squeal in overexcitement and run your hands over the window in front of you, leaving a trail of fingerprints all over the glass. You moan loudly as Mingi comes out of you, your used-up, reddened hole shrinking in the emptiness as you instinctively try to close around the hot, massive length. He has literally broken all the men in your life. How the hell are you going to be able to have sex with anyone else after this?

You'll be in need of rehab for the rest of your life.

He pulls you by your waist like a real doll. You find yourself on the lap of a cheeky idol. Your hips are shaking, and you are trying to hold on to him, clutching at Mingi's broad, muscular shoulders with your hands. He stares at you with a lustful, wet gaze, his eyes gliding over every curve and every mark he's left on you. And Mingi isn't finished with you yet.

"Now let's plant you properly, baby." As he pushes you onto his cock, his hands grab your arse and spread your cheeks. The squelching sound is loud and sickening as you sink down onto him completely. Mingi presses his hand on your belly as the head of his cock protrudes from under the thin skin of yours. "That's right, you take me so well. Your cunt is the perfect place for the warmth of my cock to be. Don't you think so, dolly?" He's almost purring like a fucking cat, and you're not thinking anything; you're just mindlessly nodding along to everything he says.   You moan longingly as he circles your hips, and you settle comfortably on his cock. You're so full that he presses against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp for air. With Mingi's help, you begin to rise and fall, slapping your arse against his muscular thighs, your mouth ajar, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chubby cheeks wet and hot. You're pure sin. Your legs are too weak to ride Mingi properly, but the idol doesn't care; he's doing fine on his own, guiding your hips as he pleases and driving his cock into you with powerful, deep thrusts.

As he hits you in all the right places, making your toes curl, you see stars behind your closed eyes. You sob openly, your slippery lips pressing against Mingi's neck in an attempt to muffle your moans. You whimper about how good it feels, how deep it goes, and how he never wants to stop. With each thrust, the round, wet head comes to rest against your cervix.

You shudder and squirm in his hands as Mingi presses his fingers against your swollen clit. You can feel it; you're so damn wet. You're flowing like a waterfall, all the way down the length of Mingi and probably all the way down to your balls, forming a puddle on the seat beneath you. You don't want this moment to end; you feel so full and satisfied.

He can collar you and drag you all over the world if he wants to, just so you can keep feeling that gorgeous cock inside you.

"Now! I'm going to cum now, Mingi!" You squeal, pressing your hand to your mouth and bouncing up and down in spite of the tension in your thighs, your tits jiggling with every move you make. Aydol leans forward and catches one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his hot, silky tongue around it as he licks it. Are all rappers that good with their tongues, or is it just something that Mingi does? So you come for the third time that night, your head thrown back and your muscles burning as you continue to be fucked mercilessly. You contract and throb relentlessly all over the thick length that has been pushed deep inside you.

It's a lot, so damn much, but Mingi is still insatiable. To be honest, you wonder where all this sexual appetite comes from with such a constant workload. He could probably go at it with you the whole night through, changing position after position until you pass out.   Mingi isn't enough; he isn't full enough to be finished with you.

He turns you over on your back, and you slam your back into the uncomfortable seat. Mingi is still so hard; the head of his cock is a fierce shade of red; his balls are throbbing; one more orgasm from you, and maybe he'll finally let himself come and make a real mess of you. The prospect of flooding you with his cum would be heavenly for him; you would look so beautiful with thick white jets of cum flowing all over your face. It was definitely an unforgettable sight.

Your walls are on fire as Mingi's cock struggles to get back into the nice velvety warmth, and you shake your head underneath it, visibly shaking your whole body and letting out the most beautiful wet sobs.

"It's too much; I can't! God, Mingi, I can't." Mingi kisses you lovingly to calm you down, and you breathe heavily, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"That's OK, baby; you're OK. You can give me another one, right? I know you can, beautiful doll. Come on, make me cum."

"Just one more time." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes, just one. And you can get some rest. I promise." It's something between a promise and an assurance; the words are little more than reassurance, but you're in agreement.

If you had another member with you, you can't even imagine what it would have been like. You wouldn't have survived. And you wonder how fans keep referring to the idols as cute prince charmers with big innocent eyes. Never again.

Mingi squeezes your plump breasts in her hands and bends her head down so that she can take one of your nipples in her mouth. You're too sensitive right now, and even this action makes your hips tremble slightly. Her tongue swirls around the hard bud until Mingi begins to suck tangibly. You tangle your fingers in the surprisingly soft hair, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you slowly recover from the hypersensitivity of your last orgasm. Mingi's cock is still warm deep inside you.

His hips begin to move gently, in a slow, erotic rhythm, as his teeth graze your nipple, making you whimper. It is this kind of change that almost gives you whiplash. You wrap your legs around Mingi's slender waist and scratch his back with your nails; it hurts, but in a good way. Deep down, you always knew you were a bit of a masochist.

"Look, baby, you're doing so well. You look amazing." The deep, gentle movements of his hips hit the right spot in you. You jump, and you see white spots in front of your eyes. "You need this, don't you? You need to be fucked until you can't take it any more, you little slut."

You nod desperately. It's exactly what you've always needed. A fuck on the edge of your life is exactly what you need after a string of unsatisfying, disappointing partners, after work and endless errands, after the weariness of the day and the noise of the crowd. And it seems that Mingi does too.

You never expected to intentionally meet an idol, and you certainly didn't expect him to remember your face, let alone your name, but here you are with Mingi's cock from Ateez deep inside you, and to be honest, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life.

You're so lucky.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open in a silent moan, and your breasts are shaking with every thrust. And just as Mingi expected, the crystal pendant looks amazing between your bare tits.

You are being fucked so well that you can't find the right words to describe it. The contrast between you and Mingi is striking: you're completely dishevelled, shattered in every sense of the word, shivering, your clothes half hanging off your body, while Mingi has only drops of sweat on his forehead with long strands of fringes clinging to them, his trousers still on his hips, unbuttoned just so his cock can slip out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his hair slightly dishevelled.

In a selfish desire to cum, you are pressed mercilessly into the seat, fucking the rest of your life out of you.

"Cum inside." You whisper, barely coherent. "Please, Mingi."

Mingi growls at this request, losing all self-control at the thought of him filling you with his cum, forcing you to keep it inside you so that all you can think about is him. Feeling him inside you with every step you take. He rubs your swollen clit hard with his thumb, making sure he squeezes the last orgasm out of you. His hips set a frantic, jagged rhythm as he enters your pussy that still flows around him, wet squelches and slaps echoing between you.   It's the final orgasm that finally brings Mingi to his own release. He lets his head drop low as he bites the back of your neck to stifle a loud, prolonged moan, both of you lost in their own pleasure. Mingi's orgasm is so intense that you can feel his cum running down the sides of your cunt, filling you to the brim. The intensity causes him to go blind for a few seconds, and it takes him a while to come to.

This is new. Even for him.

Mingi finally pulls back to look at you. He coos softly as he notices how broken and completely fucked you look.

"That's my girl. You did great, doll." He whispers in a low voice and leaves soft kisses on your bitten skin. His lips are like soft, fluffy clouds—very soft and delicate.

Your vision is blurred and your mind is a mess, and you don't seem to be able to function properly anytime soon, but the only thing you're sure of is how content and satisfied you feel right now. You whimper pitifully as Mingi comes out of you, trying to squeeze your hole to keep the cum from leaking out. But it's inevitable; a small amount leaks out of you anyway in a thick, creamy mass.

"Let's get you cleaned up, doll, so you can get some rest afterwards."

Despite the sperm leaking out of you, your head tilts helplessly to the side as Mingi helps you put your clothes back on. He seems to be enjoying the sight, making no effort to wipe it off. Disgusting, yes. He doesn't give a fuck. Nobody ever said he was a nice boy.

You cringe at the sensation. But the knowledge that it's Mingi's cum gives you endless perverse pleasure. You're tired, too exhausted to want anything more than to sleep. You still have hours of travel ahead of you; you must rest before Asa meets you at the train station.

Mingi notices your condition. He has already straightened your clothes and picked up your mobile phone from the floor. The recording is safely stored in a private folder. It is protected by a complex, multi-digit password.

"Y/N, you can sleep now. I'll keep an eye on you." He laughs as he says that, because that's exactly what he said before he started fingering you. But this time, he really means what he says.

"Whatever you want to say." You reply with a smile and finally take off your shoes, which are uncomfortable as hell, and curl up into a ball. "I think, thank you, Mingi. You know, for the sex."

"Don't thank me; I'm kind of totally into you."

"Good night, then."

"Dream about me, Y/N."

By the time you wake up, the train has already arrived at Tamagawa Station. As you would expect, Mingi is nowhere in sight, but your duffel bag is on his seat opposite you. He's not a complete bastard, after all. You pack quickly and fly off the train, straight into Asa's warm embrace.

"Hey girl, you're finally here. God, you look tired and exhausted." If she only had a clue...

"Long night," you reply simply with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, let's go. The hot springs are waiting for us, and I hear there's a famous group staying at this resort right now. Maybe we'll meet some of the idols." Asa is terribly excited and is dragging you by the hand in the direction of her car.

You vaguely remember what Mingi had said about him and the boys coming here to relax before their concerts. But you don't even know if they stay here or not, and this is a big resort. What are the chances?

When you get into the car, the only thing you can think about is Mingi's dried semen on your thighs and where the hell your knickers have gone. 

On the next day.

"This is it; I can't stand it any longer. How can you stand it??"Asa whined as she climbed out of the big hot tub with the bubbling hot water. She was all flushed, the pretty pink bathing suit clinging to her body like a second skin, until she changed into a fluffy white dressing gown.

"It's hot springs, Asa. That's the point.."You rest your head on the padded side and laugh at her pained expression. It's a beautiful resort, after all. "Go on. I'm going to be here for a while."

"Yes, don't get boiled alive; there's no one to save you. We're the last ones here tonight; you can sit here alone all night." You realise that Asa has already left, her voice coming from somewhere far away.

The hot water relaxes you, and you feel so good, warm, and comfortable. While enjoying your own moment, you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, there will be a piece of fabric dangling in front of your face, or rather, is it a pair of panties? Cream-coloured silk with a delicate ruffle around the edge—it's definitely a pair of panties. It's your panties! Oh, shit. You turn sharply around and sail away from the edge to look into a face full of a seductive grin and the most gorgeous cat-like features.

"These are yours, aren't they?" The voice sticks to your skin like a kiss of love, so honeyed and sweet. Shocked by the situation, you nod your head stupidly, not knowing how to choose your words. "Oh, I finally found you. You know, Mingi has told us a lot about you, y/n." The man slips easily into the hot tub, unfastening his white dressing gown, revealing a chiselled, gorgeous body. For your taste, too close. He corners you unceremoniously, putting his hands on either side of your face, his wide shouders completely blocking you from seeing. "I'm San. But you already know that, don't you, baby?" He literally whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your entire body and hardening your nipples, even though the water is warm. "You know, we're resting here before the concerts start. It would be really nice to have a pretty kitty like you to keep us company."

Belatedly, especially when San's lips begin to trace a light path down your neck, you understand the meaning of his words.

"Us? I don't understand." You give him a slight push away from you, but he doesn't move an inch.

"To us, of course, you silly kitty - Ateez. You see, our leader is very interested in making a personal record of all your cute little sounds." He leans over to you and whispers in your ear in a conspiratorial manner. "We had a lot of fun listening to how you cum, kitty."

This is a big resort. You remind yourself. What a possibility, you say. You see a satisfied, anticipatory smile on Yunho's lips as he waves sweetly at you from the other side of the hot tub. He is such a sweet boy. Yeah sure, you absolutely believe it.

Looks like you got lucky. After all, what are the chances of getting to meet not just Mingi, but the whole of his group?

#ateez #ateez smut #mingi x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #kpop smut #ateez mingi #mingi #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez hard hours #atz smut #song mingi #mingi smut #ateez fic #ateez ot8 #ateez hard thoughts #ateez san #san smut #san x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #choi san smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #jeong yunho

[httpsclarye]

#GOOD LOKING+!

Your plan was quick and simple. You would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. You weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, big dick sanji, kitchen sex, blow job, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, sanji moaning, p in v type of sex.

Ao3: Good Looking

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.

Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.

Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.

“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.

Barechested. Topless. Half naked.

“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”

You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.

“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”

"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.

“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”

“I could not sleep”

“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”

“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”

You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.

You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?

“Are you and Luffy close then?”

The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.

“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”

“I remember that. You were so naive”

Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so��

“Not anymore.”

He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.

“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.

You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.

He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.

“What dear? See something you lik-”

You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.

“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”

He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.

You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.

His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.

“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”

You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.

”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”

He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.

You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.

You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.

“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”

You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.

His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.

"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”

You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.

“My love, you are so perfec-“

A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.

 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.

He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.

You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.

“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.

He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.

Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?

You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.

“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”

It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.

“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”

You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.

He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.

He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.

He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.

"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”

You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.

“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“

He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.

In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.

He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.

You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.

“Sanji, p-please more”

"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.

It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.

"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”

The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.

“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”

It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.

Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.

He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”

Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.

“Do you think anyone heard?”

“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”

“Next time, huh?

Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.

"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”

"And you should go shirtless more often too.”

"Only for you, my love.”

You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.

© HTTPSCLARYE, 2023

#vinsmoke sanji x reader #i tried #one piece #english is not my first language #anyways sanji is hot #op #one piece scenario #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #taz skylar #sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #smut #sanji smut #opla #opla smut #sanji one piece #my works

[yawnderu]

cr: @ave661

Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.

Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.

It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.

Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.

Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.

“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.

“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.

“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.

The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.

“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.

“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.

It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.

“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.

To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.

You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.

She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.

“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.

“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.

“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.

“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.

“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.

“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.

Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Dad!Ghost Masterlist

#dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #hurt/comfort #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #tw postpartum depression #dad mw #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x fem!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #simon x reader #simon riley headcanons #ghost simon riley #simon riley cod #mw2 ghost

[writersblockiskillingme]

Peace | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)

Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.

Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly the summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.

However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.

The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.

District 12.

Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.

He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.

He lost everything. Every hope for the better.

That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.

Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.

He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.

Why did he do it?

Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.

Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.

He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.

Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.

"And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me"

Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.

Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.

Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.

Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.

Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.

"No, I could never give you peace"

But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.

His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.

The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.

A girl from District 12.

He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.

But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.

Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.

He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.

Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.

Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.

°

Why am I here? What am I doing?

These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.

The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.

Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.

He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.

As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.

It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.

At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?

But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.

More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.

Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.

Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.

"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.

Your integrity makes me seem small

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

I talk shit with my friends

It's like I'm wasting your honor

Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.

He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.

He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.

"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."

Coriolanus ignored him.

He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.

"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."

Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me, Coryo."

He kept his mouth shut after that.

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough?

Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.

His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.

He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.

He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.

Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.

"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.

You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.

Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.

You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.

You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.

He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.

"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.

"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."

This took him a back a little.

"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.

"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."

He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.

But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.

But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.

You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.

You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.

That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.

"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."

When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.

You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.

Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.

"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."

"Of course I will Coryo, but-"

"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.

"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

#Spotify #peace #folklore #imagine #fic #songfic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games fanfiction #thg #thg movies #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #rachel zegler #lucy gray baird #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #taylor swift inspired

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for coming to dinner with my ex and his new GF uninvited?

This situation is long and messy, so I'll try to include the relevant info only. I (F32) broke up with my long time partner (M33) right before COVID hit. We stayed in the same house during lockdown and continued to live together after lockdown was lifted, because we generally get along and we had a child (F11) to raise together. Over the last 3 years we've been roommates and co-parents and that's it.

One day he was supposed to take our daughter to buy new school clothes, and she came back 10 minutes later in tears. She said they were on their way to the store when his new GF called, and he drove her back home and dropped her off so he could go spend time with her. He even asked our daughter to lie to me for him, but she was tired of covering for him (implying she'd been lying for him for a while now).

When he got home we had a massive argument. I didn't care if he dated other girls, I cared that for some reason he thought he had to sneak around, and it made him act like a jerk to me and our daughter. I told him if he had been a man about this new girl and just introduced me to her then maybe we could have all been friends, but instead he had to act like a horny teenager. It ended with him moving out to live with his parents.

A couple days later he called and apologized. He said he hoped it wasn't too late for him to do things right, and he hopes we can all be friends. I was hopeful that we could finally co-parent in peace for the sake of our child.

This is where I may be TA: I have always been close with my ex's parents, to the point where even after we broke up I would be invited over regularly for dinner. They said even if I wasn't their son's partner I'm still their grandchild's mother, and that makes me family.

So one day when my daughter texts me while at my ex's parent's house and invites me to dinner because they're having my favorite meal, I don't think twice about coming over even though my ex and his GF I've never met now live there. I figured everyone had to be okay with it, since my daughter was inviting me.

I end up having dinner with my ex's parents and daughter, but my ex only comes upstairs to grab two plates of food and goes back downstairs. I ask my ex's mom why and she says his GF doesn't feel well today. Whatever, I think. She's just sick and I'll meet her another day. I have a perfectly pleasant dinner with my ex in-laws, help clean up, and make a promise to bring them a coconut cake (ex father-in-law's favorite) and take my daughter home.

Later my ex blows up my phone with texts and calls, saying it was so weird and rude that I came over for dinner uninvited. That I made his new GF uncomfortable, and like she wasn't welcome there. And that I caused trouble in their relationship because she assumes we must still be in love for me to come over and see his parents out of the blue like that, because "exes don't do that. it's creepy."

I had a talk with my daughter and asked her calmly if she had asked everyone else if it was ok if I come over before she texted me, and she sheepishly said she didn't know she had to ask since it had never been a problem before. (I didn't tell her about her dad's meltdown at me, or tell her dad that she's the one who invited me. She's a child and shouldn't be involved)

Instead I just told him I'm sorry me dropping by made things awkward, but I thought he wanted us all to be friends from now on and I figured this was a good place to start being friends. He said there was no way she'd want to be my friend now that I made her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

It wasn't my intention to make anyone uncomfortable, but I admit I'd be perturbed if he brought this woman into MY home and I had not even been warned first. So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course &lt;3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew. 

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 

He doesn't let go of you. 

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 

You need him. 

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not." 

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

[berryzxx]

Not yet

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your not ready to tell Azriel's family your mates in fear of them not liking you

note: It's just Az being the standard and the cutest shit ever. Also its pretty short im sorry lovelies <3

"I don't want to. Not yet" I murmured to Azriel, snuggling closer to his warmth. His hands ran up and down my back, sending small shivers down my spine.

"And why is that, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up, pressing small kisses to my face. I opened my eyes and tried to get used to the light in the room. It was a Saturday, one of the days Azriel was content to just lie in bed with me with no commitments for the rest of the day.

"I just...I don't think they'll like me. I know it's stupid but I don't know them well enough. What if they think I'm using you or don't actually love you? What if they convince you that I'm not good enough?" I waited for him to say something. I didn't usually have anything bad to say against his family but I was never comfortable around new people. Especially if they were such important figures in our court. A slight sigh left his lips "Y/n. Do you really think I'd stop loving you if one of them told me to?...not that they would"

I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his heat suddenly too much. "No but it's not just that. Imagine I say something wrong. I know their your family but their also high lord and lady. What if I say something...I don't know politically wrong? They'll laugh at me and think how in the world are us two mates."

Azriel moved his arm around my waist and pulled me back to lay down on the bed, his hand moving through my hair in a soothing motion. "They will think nothing of the sort because you are perfect. But if it makes you feel better we can wait for as long as you want. Feyre was talking about inviting the wonderful florist tomorrow. Accept her offer and get to know everyone a bit"

I thought about it and slowly nodded my head. "Fine."

Azriel was right because Feyre did invite me the next day.

"Y/n! Oh these are gorgeous! You've outdone yourself" Feyre said admiring the bouquet I had prepared

I smiled and handed her the card with all my business details "Thank you high lady. If anyone asks where you got them from please give them this."

"Feyre, please. No formalities between us"

I nodded my head "Feyre it is then"

She turned her attention to the rest of the shop looking around the flower filled store "You have such a peaceful life. Living amongst flowers and smelling like roses all the time"

I let out a small laugh. Very peaceful. Sometimes a little too peaceful. "I suppose. Although it get's boring at times"

Feyre's eyes lit up in excitement "You should come to dinner tonight! It'll be something different for you and we can get to know each other more"

I thought about what me and Azriel had discussed earlier. Now was the perfect opportunity, to meet his family. "Oh...I don't want to intrude. I don't know-"

She shook her head "Nonsense. Your coming tonight. Everyone will be scrambling over each other to get to know you"

I looked around the store, hoping for a sign as to what I should do. The only sign I could see however was the open sign on the front door.

"Fine. I'll come. Thank you the for the invite high- Feyre"

She beamed and gave me a quick hug, slightly surprising me before walking out with her bouquet of flowers. I sighed. Well I suppose I better go home and change so I looked slightly decent at least.

*Dinner, a few hours later*

Azriel cleared his throat slightly before continuing "Did you want something lov- y/n?"

I paused and clenched my jaw at the slip up. The chatter at the table was luckily loud enough for no one to quiet hear what he was saying. This was the first time I had been happy for Cassian's loud voice. I shook my head "I'll get it myself, thank you" I reached over and picked up the dish, adding a few potatoes to my plate, trying not to gather attention towards us two. Really. Azriel wasn't very good at following instructions. If someone had heard that I don't know what I would have done.

Probably jumped out a window or something.

"Everything alright?" Rhys asked looking over at me first, then Azriel and then me again. I nodded my head quickly and gave him a smile "Fine, everything's fine" Azriel didn't reply merely nodding in agreement too.

I let out a sigh of relief when he turned away and took a sip of his wine. Luckily dinner passed with no other accidents happening. I watched as everyone took their seats in the living room, Feyre and Rhys cuddled up on the couch while the others sprawled here and there, Elain having gone up because of a headache.

Azriel stood half hidden by his shadows in the door way, I could sense him even though I couldn't see him without squinting my eyes.

Come to the kitchen. It's important

His voice echoed in my mind, his deep and low voice making me miss him even though he was just inches away. I got up making an excuse of needing water and walked over to the kitchen, past the dining room where we had just sat. Before I could process what was happening I was against a wall and Azriel's lips were on mine, his shadows cocooning us in a dark and peaceful bubble. He kissed me like he was starving and he couldn't get enough.

We finally pulled apart my hands resting on his chest "Azriel" I warned him, the lust filled look in his eyes ready to devour me. His hands ran up and down my body, my waist, my hips warming each part of me.

"I want to tell them. I want to tell them about my perfect and beautiful mate." He whispered his eyes dark and his hair falling forward onto his forehead. I pushed a strand away "I can't right now. I'm not ready"

I knew even if I shook my head once Azriel would understand. His hopeful expression dropped slightly but his lips remained in a small smile "Let me take you home now, sweetheart. I can't live without having you close to me"

I rolled my eyes but smiled all the same "Don't be so dramatic"

He didn't reply, instead tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We're going" He said finally and winnowed us on the spot. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone but all thoughts left me as Azriel looked at me with his devilishly handsome grin.

-> Masterlist <-

ignore any mistakes <3

tag list: @thelov3lybookworm @fieldofdaisiies @sheblogs @one-big-fangirl @kennedy-brooke

@slut4acotar @cupidojenphrodite @artists-ally @thehighladywrites @claireswritingcorner

@milswrites @riddlesb1tch

#berryfics #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar azriel #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader fluff #azriel fluff #feyre #acotar fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel imagine #shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster x y/n

[ihavethedreamies]

Second Choice | San

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.3k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad),  Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

I barely proofread this and none of my stories are Beta-ed so hopefully its not too messy...

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sighed. 2:38 am. It was much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you knew there was no way you could fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn't nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you were sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You had to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He was sleeping with the door open so his cat could come and go. Byeol was sleeping in the armchair and you were jealous that he could do so in peace. San was staying in Wooyoung's room while he was gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you were home alone. It freaked you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you and you were a bit reluctant to agree but did so. It wasn't that you weren't close with San, you were, since Wooyoung was your roommate, it was just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, your dog was snoring away in her bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She was so sweet, but she was a husky and therefore made the bed way too hot for her to lay with you. Every so often you would have really bad nightmares and would normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she wasn't there, so you had to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good was on.

"Why are you up?" San's voice startled you, and you spun around again to look at where he was coming from behind you. Your dog's soft snores stopped, but she didn't even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

"Nightmare." You shrugged, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

"Couldn't go back to sleep?" His eyes were almost closed and his hair was mussed up. He had worn a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar was very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you could see most of his toned chest. By that point, you were used to it, but that didn't mean you weren't tempted to ogle him.

"No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with (S/N), but…" You shrugged again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you felt antsy under his gaze.

"What about Cookie?”

"She's too warm…" You both sat in silence for a good minute or two and you tried to just watch the TV. It seemed he was thinking.

"Um, I'm going to use the bathroom…Do you…Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung's bed with me?"

"No! I…I mean…" You cleared your throat.

"I…That's fine, but would you mind…using my bed?" You could NOT sleep in Wooyoung's bed, especially with San. You were willing to try anything at that point, feeling exhausted, and you really needed sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

"Yeah, be right back." He flashed a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, your mouth dry, nervous, you shut the TV off, but hesitated to get up. When he came back out, you finally forced yourself up and you led him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, your light strip around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

"You need that off?" you asked him, pointing at the lights.

"No." He moved toward your bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undid the robe, acting like you were naked underneath. After it fell, you dashed to get under the covers, embarrassed about your thin top and your lack of bra. Gently, he got on the other side and you laid down stiffly, flinching when he pulled the blanket over himself, then higher up on you. Your face heated and since you had no makeup on, you were sure he could see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" San's voice was very soft and you felt like crying. You weren't for sure if you were just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turned on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand was already up between your two pillows. Your hand shook a bit, reaching for him, and he gave you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He wasn't the biggest of the friend group, but he was still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

"I'm right here, you can go to sleep." He whispered and you let your eyes close, hoping he couldn't see the tears hanging on your lashes. It was still taking you a while to actually fall asleep, laying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At that point, you were more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San was always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He was sweet and was always careful to make sure you weren't too uncomfortable. You knew, deep down, he probably liked you, but you just ignored the idea. It was like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister was in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung liked your sister, you liked Wooyoung, and San liked you. You knew Wooyoung liked your sister, but he had no chance in hell. Your sister was enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they weren't an actual couple is because she was in denial, afraid of commitment, and didn't like feeling feelings.

Still being mostly awake, you had to make sure and hold completely still when you barely felt his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You heard and felt him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to go far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you could, you tensed further when he lightly pressed a kiss to your forehead. You bit the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settled, you didn't open your eyes till you could tell he was asleep from the way his breathing changed. Blearily, you looked over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand was still just as secure in yours. You wondered what time it was, and as you did, sleep slowly overcame you as well.

When you woke up in the morning, your bed was empty next to you and could hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

"Slow down, you'll end up throwing up." You heard San scolding her and when you rolled over to get out of bed, the clock read 11:47.

"Shit!" You sat up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and a maxi dress over. Your hair was messy in its braid, but once you took it out, your hair fell in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thumped on the hardwood floor as you jogged down the hall.

"Sorry I slept so late!" You called to him, he was resting against the kitchen counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

"It's okay!" He assured and you dashed past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It was good you worked from home.

"I think it was because I fell asleep so late!" The only reason he heard you was because he had followed after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you started getting pins and thread out.

"When do you have to go practice?" San was a dance instructor and it was extremely convenient that his studio was just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

"Three." He got up, turning the chair around so he could sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huffed, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it fell in your view again. Grumbling, you grabbed your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you were doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you could hear his steps on the wood floor; you were able to prevent a flinch when his fingers found your hair. Kneeling behind where you were to get the right height, you forced yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braided your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabbed a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

"Thanks." You murmured, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hoped your head was bowed enough he couldn't see your red cheeks.

"What do you want for lunch?" You tried to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hummed and you could hear the chair roll an inch when he sat back down. Him watching you didn't faze you before, but his gaze felt like fire on your back.

"Pizza?"

"Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time." You waved toward your device on the desk next to you.

"Code?"

"Same as the front door."

He typed in the number and you heard it click open and he tapped away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focused on where his partially unbuttoned shirt was tucked into his pants. You had hemmed that pair of jeans so he didn't have to pin them tighter anymore.

"Use the 3033 card?"

"Yes."

"Twenty-three minutes." He told you, placing the order then went and sat back down.

"How much?"

"Like eighteen."

"Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?" you asked, motioning behind you toward your thread storage. He rolled over and you heard shuffling, keeping your hand out so he could rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he had gotten out of the chair and sat on the floor next to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily or fall off, so I'm having to fasten them differently." You deftly and quickly started your task and he marveled at how fast you did it. Tying the thread off, you stuck the needle in the pincushion you had on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

"You're really good at this." San looked at the smooth stitches you had done, even though they were by hand, not machine.

"Practice." You let a small smile grace your lips.

"Do you always do everything by hand?"

"Depends on what I am doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn." You pulled a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fell back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you were doing. His fingers messed with a scrap of fabric laying on the floor, then he picked it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you had done.

"Could you teach me to sew?"

"Probably. It's not hard. Getting to this point is though."

"Did you teach Wooyoung?" Your hands froze at the question, heart thudding harder.

"N-No. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself." He laughed.

"Sounds about right- ow!" Your eyes flicked to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin-riddled fabric down on the desk.

"Like that." You giggled and he huffed bashfully. He kept watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rang so he could get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you took the pin cushion off and made sure there wasn’t anything sharp on the floor, you laid your glasses down as well.

"Hot, hot!" He breathed hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walked out. He wasn't expecting the sauce to still be hot, but the pizza place was very close. It only took so long since it was busy for lunch. You let him talk to you while you both ate, and you only partially listened, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you hadn't played and had no knowledge of.

"I think I'm going to head to the studio now." San had helped you clean up and sat on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

"Bye, (Y/N)!" The door shut, leaving you staring at it. Sighing deeply, you went back to your work, trying not to let your thoughts loop out of control.

Your eyes flew open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stared at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

"Fucking-" You sat up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you threw your comforter to the side and got you of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matched your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it was slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog was noticeably absent, so you walked softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie was laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky's body. The sight made you smile, and you glanced to where San was sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hit him around the middle, and one of his feet was sticking out from under.

"(Y/N)?" His voice caught your attention when you started to step out of the doorway.

"Y-yeah?"

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yes." When he started to get out of bed, you tried to protest.

"Come on." He ignored your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moved. He led you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

"San-" You got in as well, but stayed sitting up as he laid down.

"Just…sleep." He mumbled, hand grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he could get more comfortable, your head ended up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He fell back asleep fast, his fingers that had been running over your hair stilling. Your heart was thudding hard, you could even hear it pulsing. How the hell were you supposed to fall asleep like that? You pondered that question, but at the same time, your eyes were growing heavy and sleep was washing over you. At first, you were only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you began to actually go to sleep, you felt a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This woke you up fully, but you managed to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers were back to running over your hair, "you have no idea, huh?" His voice was so quiet that even though your nose was near his throat, you barely heard it. San sighed, kissing your forehead, you could tell that time for sure. Finally, you couldn't fight sleep off, and fell asleep in his arms.

Once again, when you woke up in the morning, he was already out of bed. You couldn't hear anything else, and when you glanced at the clock it was a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you looked to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pulled the side of the comforter he had been using up to your nose and you sighed. Smelled like him, and you hated how good that made you feel. Dropping the blanket like it was hot, you scampered out of bed and made your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that led into the main room of the apartment, you saw he wasn't in the kitchen and the bathroom door was open. Your dog barked happily and came to greet you and as you pet her, you noticed a note on the counter. He had gone out to do some things and let you know he would be back for supper. You weren't sure if you were disappointed or relieved at this. You only had two, maybe three, more nights before your sister returned. Wooyoung was supposed to not long after that. You were worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you were there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you felt horrible about your rising affections with San, but you had no commitment to Wooyoung in anyway but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you tried to move on, but there was a small part of you that hoped your sister would get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung could move on, and go to you. While you logically understood that would probably not happen, you still hoped.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finished the suit you had been working on and was able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoyed making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you saw you had nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you would most likely need even more of the right color thread. You could wait a bit though, since you weren't sure when you would run out. As you were rechecking your list, your phone started to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

"This is (Y/N)."

"Hello, Miss (Y/N). I'm a delivery driver for Blooming Days Flowers. I was just wanting to make sure you would be at home in the next fifteen minutes?"

"Oh, uh, yes." You had no idea who would have sent flowers.

"Great, thanks!" He hung up and you blinked back at the flashing 'call ended' on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it was hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rang, you quickly went to the door and the man on the other side smiled, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There were two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler-flowers.

"Oh, thank you!" You took the bouquet and the man had you stamp on his clipboard. He took his leave and you moved further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you plucked the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

"Praying for a good night's sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!" You read out loud, figuring out who it was from before you flipped the card around. You had to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You took several measured, deep breaths. It didn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you could stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you didn't have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You licked your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you could taste the salt of your tears. You had thought he had a crush on you, something small, but this? It seemed like he lo-

"Fuck." Your jaw clenched, the card crinkling where your thumb pressed it too hard. Sniffing hard to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You aggressively sniffled, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomped back to your studio. Were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

"(Y/N)! I got food!" You heard him easily even though you were back in your room, the door closed. For the last hour you had been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You tried laying down, but the comforter still smelled like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears were still drying on your face and new ones came up when you heard his voice. You were so tired at that point, head hurting. Your hand was at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bit your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of your mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

"(Y/N)?" San called again, but you still didn't reply.

"(Y/N)?" He was coming down the hall and you got up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blew your nose and he knocked on the door.

"Come in." Your voice was a bit hoarse and when he came in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face fell.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He immediately came forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs rubbing over the skin.

"J-just…" You forced a smile.

"I was just moved from you sending me the flowers, then I was reading…" Your lie was pretty believable since your book was still open, face down on the bed.

"Oh." He slumped in relief, and you wished he hadn't removed his hands from your face.

"You really liked the flowers?" His brow furrowed nervously.

"Yes, San. They're…" Your breath shuddered but you covered it with a soft chuckle.

"They're beautiful, and so thoughtful." You played with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

"Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much." He led you out to the main room and you slowly followed. You tried to maintain your normal attitude while you ate, and it got easier as you both joked and he told you about his day. Your phone dinged and you glanced down. When the name registered, your entire body stiffened and you exhaled hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin' good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

"Is it Woo?"

"Yeah." You nodded a bit, typing out a simple yes, you sent it. His phone dinged then as well and he scoffed at what he read.

"He knows you're lying." San shot you a deadpan look and your jaw dropped a bit, then you cleared your throat.

"Why does he think that?"

"You didn't capitalize it. It was too short too." San stuck his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You rolled your eyes.

"Bitch." You sneered, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I'm not lying. I'm busy. Grow up.

You weren't normally terse with him like that. He would definitely know something was up. Backspacing, you redid it once again.

I'm not lying. We were busy eating. I'm fine and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you didn't get a reply after he read it, but San's went off. He glared at what he saw, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even muted it.

"What did he say?" You were curious but tried to maintain a neutral tone.

"Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend." That was a lie and you knew it but let the topic drop.

"I'm going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?"

"You're gonna use Woo's computer?"

"Sure am." He smiled, his dimples revealing themselves. You considered it, then you were going to say yes, then considered it again.

"I think I'll finish that show I started the other day." You told him and he shrugged, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You hadn't finished yet, so you took the last few bites, then just left the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watched it. You were rewatching anyway…

"Fuck!" You sat up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you felt like you had just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you buried your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glared at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit.

"Don't take it out on the flowers…" You scolded yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You did so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it fell over, rolled, then fell off, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

"Shit!" You almost got out of bed, but then moved to go to the other side so you didn't land barefoot on glass.

"(Y/N)?" San had peaked his head in, he wasn't in his pajamas yet, so he must have just gotten done with his game.

"Hey, wait!" He stopped you as you moved to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He was in crocs, so he took the trash can from you. Using his sleeve over his hand, he gently picked up the fragments and put them in. He looked up when you handed him a roll of tape. He pulled a section out and tore it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

"What happened?" San threw the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

"I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell."

"Another? Maybe you can't sleep without me." He smirked playfully, but it fell when he noticed you didn't even twitch your lips.

"Give me like five minutes." He held his hand up to motion you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing, you sat on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at the small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself, you pondered what your bad dreams could mean. Why were you having so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That wouldn't make sense…

"Here, let's get you to sleep." San came in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he had to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination did?

"Come here." He had gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you laid back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scared you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

"What are you thinking about?" He had seen your pensive face.

"Nothing-"

"No. Tell me." You huffed in reply.

"Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?" You felt him stiffen, much like you normally did.

"I did, on the forehead-"

"No. Tell me." You shot back at him. San stayed quiet for a second and you could almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

"Yes." His reply was soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

"What do I have no idea about?" He really hadn't thought you were awake, and he shifted nervously before responding. The man was taking his sweet time, and you were about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

"How much I like you…" He finally got out; your suspicions confirmed. He thought you would flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he got nothing, so he pulled away enough to look at your face. It was flat, but your eyes were glossy.

"How much?" His eyes widened at your question.

"How much?" He repeated.

"How much do you like me?" He licked his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seemed to dissipate. The hand on your waist went up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touched yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he didn't flinch back, instead, he fully pressed his lips on yours. You shivered, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands flew up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying in his hair. He grunted, rolling a bit so he was leaning over you some. You whined when his hand rested on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top rode up. Your hands moved down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San took the opportunity when your whine slightly parted your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tasted yours. He was over you completely then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hip slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down you knew you shouldn't, knew you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you were somehow betraying Wooyoung…

"(Y/N)-" San pulled away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

"Just- please- need you-" You heaved out and he groaned. Making sure he was still close enough to brush his lips over yours, he got on his up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to open your legs. He wrestled with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as he threw the shirt behind him somewhere. As San's tongue ran over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it could reach, you couldn't help but feel over him. His soft skin stretched over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallowed your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undid the buttons of your pajama shirt, hauling you up to sit so he could take it off. Your tank was swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bit your lip when he pulled back from the kiss, his leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin felt searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San led you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand had cupped your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasped hard as his lips wrapped over one of your nipples, and at the same time, he ground his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through both of your pants. He was spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kissed over to and sealed his lips over your other nipple, he wrestled your pants and panties off at the same time.

"S-San-!" Your whole body twitched as his fingers met your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

"Fucking soaked, precious." He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewled when his kisses went back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licked a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl." His low voice, right in your ear, took your breath away, his second finger spreading you open. He tried to chuckle at your yelp as he softly pressed his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

"W-wait-!" Your body shuddered, back arching, head thrown back when he added a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

"Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you're too tight for my cock, love." San's nose ran over your throat, then rested his forehead on your collarbone. He looked down at where you were sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loved how tiny you felt under him, writhing and whimpering. He had been waiting for this for so long, and he knew you were vulnerable, and shouldn't be taking the opportunity, but he was weak. If you were going to ask for him, he would give you what you wanted.

"Fu- God! San!" Your cunt clenched his fingers, pulsing with your heart and he circled your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He prompted and you immediately did, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirked above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasmed, soaking his hand. Your body shivered one last time as he removed his fingers, barely registering as he lapped his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes tried to focus as he climbed off the bed, figure out what he was doing. You yelped when his hands on your ankles yanked you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he knelt on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

"San-?!" Your voice ended in a very undignified choking sound as he buried his tongue inside your core, filling the void his fingers had left. He wasn't planning on fucking you open with his tongue, but you tasted too fucking good. His strong hands gripped your inner thighs, so hard he was definitely going to bruise them, holding you open. Your body was still weak from your orgasm, so you couldn't fight him anyway. San pressed his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he could swipe through your folds, then circle your clit. You were still sensitive, the sensation jolted you, he could feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and your fingers wove through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

"S-San~!" You fell apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drank and swallowed every drop that fell from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he was bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimpered and he stood up, even though his pants were loose, they were tight against his hard cock. Your eyes were glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze was drawn back to him as he pulled the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick and your mouth watered when the clothing fell, leaving him naked.

"Fuck." You huffed, still catching your breath and he couldn't fight the smug grin that spread over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you didn’t even know if you could get your fingers all the way around him.

"Come here, precious." He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brought to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angled up allowed him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock met your cunt you clenched your jaw, readying for the stretch.

"Wait, do I need a con-"

"Just fuck me, San." You wanted to sound more assertive, but you just whined like a spoiled child.

"Okay, precious." His smirk grew and he wrapped his arm around your left leg by your knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San started to press in you gasped with each breath, trying to breathe through him splitting you open. You were so tight around him, your gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat felt incredible. He groaned low and long as your cunt swallowed each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

"Such a good girl, sweetheart." He cooed as he bottomed out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You were so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body was in shock, almost. Everything seemed to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you wondered if anyone would suffice after him. You were already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hadn't even moved yet. He could tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt was throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He was going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wanted to fuck every little negative thought from your pretty head, drive away the memory of your nightmares. Wanted to leave you only with thoughts of him, his hands, his lips and tongue, his voice, and his cock. He was already making head way it seemed.

"Can I move, precious?" San leaned down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nodded, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulled out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snapped his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust was a little deeper, a little harder and your whole body went limp, the third thrust nearly made you black out. Your cunt spasmed, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back. He chuckled as your orgasm waved through you over and over, and he wondered how long you had needed to get fucked. He was so glad he was the one to do so, and he would eagerly do it over and over, till you were dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him kept repeating to him that he would always fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he was planning. Over and over-

"San, please, please…" He wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but your high had laid, so he continued. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you were nearly folded in half, he huffed a laugh.

"You want me to fuck you good, love?"

"Yes!"

"Want my cock to fuck you stupid?"

"YES, fuck PLEASE." His hips rolled, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your already kind of flimsy headboard thudded hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turned white as you gripped your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

"God, you're so fucking perfect (Y/N)~" San groaned, letting one of your legs go so you wrapped it around his narrow waist. The now free hand gripped over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they could instead weave through his. San's lips fell back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you felt like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis met yours, he ground into your clit, and you were growing close to another orgasm, and he was planning on letting go with you. He tried so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside you thought he was in your throat.

"Cum for me, precious. Cum on my cock." San pulled back from the kiss, and his words granted you your relief, your final climax really did make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbled through the room as his hot cum painted your insides white. He came so much that his release spilled out from where he split you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You had fallen limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompanied each breath. He was heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hitting him then. If he already liked you, he was truly infatuated then, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

When consciousness finally washed over you, it took you a second to figure out why the hell you were so sore. Your thighs were sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hit you then and your body protested as you wiggled on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed was once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

"Fuck." You whimpered as your lower half pulsed as you got out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You were naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limped over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally looked in the mirror, gasping. There were several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even had teeth marks.

"Choi San!" You scolded him despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You were glad you worked from home, because there was no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You took a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You winced when the water flowed over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San's monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you got dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric was soft and loose. There was no way you could handle any pressure on your cunt, so you went commando. San had already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you heard the other shower running. Cookie lifted her head from where she laid right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

"Good morning~" You cooed at your pup and then limped over to the fridge, your dog whining a bit at your strange gait. She watched with interest as you pulled some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you had gone through. When your husky smelled the bacon as soon as you opened the package, she started to wag her tail, whimpering.

"No begging!" You scolded the dog, and she was so well trained she simply hung her head and trudged away, down the hall and presumably into your sister's room. You barely heard the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You had assumed he would go to his room to get dressed, but you startled when he wrapped his arms around your middle from behind.

"San, I'm cooking!" you scolded, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate had spiked, more from fear than bashfulness. You still hadn't processed what had happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

"Sorry!" He giggled and leg you go, but only moved to stand next to you. Your face was warm and your eyes stung a bit, brow furrowed. Once all the food was plated and the heat of the stove was off, you turned to him, taking a step back.

"San, I think-"

"Let's eat first, precious. I tired you out." He took both of the plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You followed after him slowly and he pulled a chair out for you which you gratefully sat down on. Then you regretted it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then noticed he was in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looked so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you were really freaking hungry, so you ate first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You knew before you let him rail you into next week that you would regret it. You did, you regretted it and felt guilty. Felt like you used him. Feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food was harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shuddered, and he noticed the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

"Hey, baby girl, what's wrong?" He immediately got up, coming to your side and kneeling so he could look up at you. Your crying picked up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You repeated between each sob that made you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that had finally boiled over.

"Oh, precious." He sighed, trying to pull you into a hug and you pushed your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocked then fell back, clattering onto the floor. San stayed where he was, feeling utterly helpless as you crumbled to the floor. You balled your fists on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and then floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stayed in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

"God, I'm such a fucking bitch." You whimpered to yourself and he couldn't disagree more.

"No, no, precious girl, you're not." He finally got up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

"Yes, I am! I…God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn't have. I…What about…" You heaved for air and he felt his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifted to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

"What about Wooyoung?" Your voice was quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that's what your issue was. He felt a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why did you feel like that? Did it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

"I'm sorry, San. I can't do this. You're Wooyoung's best friend-"

"Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?" His question threw you off.

"I…I don't-"

"Why are you waiting for him when it's possible he'll never go to you? I'm right here." He insisted and you sniffed, trying to stop your tears.

"But if there's a chance-"

"Look, I didn't want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he's in love. If you're not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I'm right here." His voice had gotten a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

"I think you should go home." Your sobs had quieted, but that sentence pierced him harder than everything else. He wanted to argue, try and convince you, but if you needed space, he would give it to you.

By the time his bag was packed and he was leaving Wooyoung's room, you had gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and was cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

"If you need anything…" He drifted off, hand on the doorknob. You trudged over to the door as he opened it, planning on locking the door with the chain after he was gone. You wouldn't meet his eye, and he prayed desperately that you wouldn't have a nightmare that night without him or anyone else there.

When the door closed, you slowly locked it with the chain, dropping your hand. He was standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closed his eyes tight when he heard your start to cry again. You leaned against the door after it shut, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You were beginning to realize you liked San, liked him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which was terrifying. Just over the short amount of time he had been staying with you, he had needled his way into your heart, more than as just a friend. Little did you know, San was still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quieted as new feelings bubbled up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you could process, but thinking of him leaving shattered you.

"Please, please, please." He suddenly heard you speaking, stepping away from the door. He heard the chair rattle as you unlocked the door and opened it. You weren't expecting him to still be right there, but relief washed over you. You began to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately went back in. He dropped his bag and returned your embrace, hugging you close to him as you cried. San rested his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

"(Y/N), oh sweet girl." He sniffed, easily holding you when you went limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arm's hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carried you over to the couch, sitting down so you could sit on his lap. Your sobs ceased, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

"I'm sorry." Your soft whimper hurt him, to hear you so defeated.

"(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?"

"I…I used you."

"How?"

"I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me."

"I know." You pulled back abruptly, gaping at him.

"Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-"

"San, San…" He had started to ramble nonsense, so you cupped his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry I was being…" You licked your lips, thinking, "I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I loved Wooyoung? No, I don't. It is just a crush…" Your thumb ran over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

"I know that I'm not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don't care if I'm your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end." You sniffled at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

"I thought that there was only one choice, but…"

"But?"

"You're right here." You sighed, your own face softening; you had finally rationalized everything. Why your heart thumped so fast, why his actions brought tears to your eyes…Why you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn't there.

"(Y/N)… I didn't want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long." His own emotions were bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

"We've known each other, what, five years?" You nodded, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

"I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies. You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad."

"F-for that long?" You were so shocked you stopped crying. San hummed, rubbing your back, hand slipping under your tank top.

"I've held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…" He stopped when you slumped forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugged you closer. Your heart had been wanting to break earlier, but all his sweet words filled the cracks in with gold.

"I'm sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I'm sorry I can't say I love you back, because I really don't know at this point. But I do know-" you sat up to look at him, "I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?"

"You're not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you're sleep deprived." His hand went to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

"Will you show me something?" You bowed your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

"Whatever you want, precious."

"Can you show me again, how you feel about me?" Your voice was soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him that night. Yes, you were sore, but in the best possible way, and you wanted- needed him again.

"Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't think I can hold back like last night." His voice was low, but his gaze had sharpened. What the hell did he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck was he going to do that was more intense than last night?

"You held back?" You questioned and he huffed, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

"Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?" His eyebrow rose in question and you swallowed hard; he could hear it.

"I think I can…" Your voice was quiet, quivering, but you were excited. Your cunt throbbed, still sore but you were getting hot quickly.

"I need a solid answer, precious."

"Yes. I can." His smirk glitched into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathered his composure.

"What should I do first…?" He wondered aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

"Can I make a suggestion?" You tried to sound coy and smug like him, but it didn't really work.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"I…" You exhaled carefully, normally not so shy, "I want to swallow your cock." Your eyes flitted up to look at him and his eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned.

"Precious, are you sure? I don't want to hurt you-"

"I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it." You were building your confidence back up from the response you got from him. Your lips were at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kissed the side of his neck.

"On the floor then, baby girl." He almost gasped at how fast you scrambled off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watched with wide eyes as he took his sweatshirt off, then removed the tank he had on underneath. San bit his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogled him. He noticed your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

"Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?" The intention was clear in his words and tone.

"Yes, please~" You shuffled in your crouch, but stayed still. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again let his pants fall. His cock was only about half hard; you wiggled your jaw knowing it would end up sore too. You wanted to be sore completely and all over when he was done with you. His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he was within reach, but you stayed still.

"What a good girl you are." He hummed and you eagerly opened your mouth when the head of his dick touched your lips. You groaned at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

"Fuck-" San sighed, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hit the back of your throat, you looked up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As he heard you take a large inhale through your nose, he kept going and your whole body shuddered as his cock went down your throat. Your cunt clenched desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy it.

"Oh, fucking hell, sweetheart." He groaned, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He was impressed you hadn't gagged yet, but you were swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stayed there like that for a second, to the point where your head began to swim a bit, the lack of air intoxicating. When he pulled his hips back, just enough that you could desperately suck air in through your nose, he registered the depth that allowed you to breathe.

"Count, precious. I'll bottom out every five thrusts, 'kay?" He instructed and you nodded with a whine in acknowledgement. You tried to hold you jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrust, inhaling deep when he went all the way. Each time he groaned, grinding his pelvis against your face. You knew he had stamina, and even though he didn't block your airway each time, your vision was spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building made your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid dripping on the hard wood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brought him that much closer. San smirked at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from his fat cock battering your throat.

"Mmh~ I'm going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you wanted~" His airy chuckle turned to a groan and he tossed his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulsed hard on your tongue and you finally moved yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he couldn't pull back.

"Fuck-!" He grunted and came, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and throat. You kept swallowing, only gagging a bit then from the sticky substance and he finally pulled out so you could catch your breath. More saliva and cum dripped off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop landed on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

"Such a good girl, love." San grinned at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

"You safe?" You took a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

"Pill." You managed to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

"Good, because I'm gonna pump you full." He smirked. You held your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bent, wrapping his around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he did so turned you on even more and you used your own core strength to lift your legs and wrap them around his middle.

He walked forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, your shorts were still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunged into you. The sudden burn made your cunt clench hard around him and he hissed, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You were plenty wet, and he had just fucked you hours prior, but he was so big. It made sense why he prepped you before, and it didn't help you were still sore. But you could not care less, the stinging pain just added to your euphoria.

San groaned when your nails dug into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You threw your head back hitting the wall a bit hard, but you were too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you held onto his shoulders for dear life. He had your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he could, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It was hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they rolled over your cheeks, he leaned in to lick the salt away. He hated seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks went straight to his cock. So cute.

"You're so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?" His chuckle was slightly patronizing.

"Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt."

"San!" You gasped, your next climax starting. He slowed his pace so you could ride the waves, but didn't want to overstimulate you yet, so he forced his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaked, making another mess on the floor.

San pulled away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protested vehemently when he slowly pulled his cock from your still spasming pussy. He set your feet down, spinning you around and you immediately placed your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window!? You gaped, looking out toward the park you could see from the window.

"S-San-?"

"No one can see you up here, at least I don't think…" He chuckled and didn't allow any more argument and fucked back into you.

"Fuck!" You nearly screamed. Somehow, he was even deeper than before, and the front of his hips slapped against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath was fogging the window, even the heat from your palms did so. San's fingers pressed so hard into your flesh; you knew there would be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you were forced onto your tippy toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock sapped more and more of your strength.

"Huh, I'm close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~" He licked his lips like a hungry dog. You squeaked when his strong grip weaved through your hair, wrapping your braid in his first, tugging lightly as he ground his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It was so hot; he was so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair felt so good. Your body eked out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He was still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You didn't know if your poor little cunt and body could take much more, but your mind didn't care. If we wanted to rail you till you passed out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulled his cock out again, more globs of cum leaked out of your abused hole, which still was twitching. He smirked at your quivering body, not having moved much, and cooed as he easily picked you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitioned to a princess carry. Your head flopped as you panted for air, waiting patiently as he carried you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he put you on the bed, he didn't join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moved it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily registered the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sat with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

"Look there, precious." His hand lightly gripped your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You were an absolute mess, but you were too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still wasn't back inside you.

"San, hurry, please!" You whimpered and he chuckled at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs were spread so your knees resting over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

"Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)." He praised, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watched.

"I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me." His words made you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he started to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you were being hypnotized you watched San's cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sat inside you.

"You're so hot like this." San grunted, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stung, overstimulated, and you felt his dick pulsing; he was close too.

"One more for me precious, one more." He coached, then one, two, he came again. There was no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spilled over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You both were panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep was trying to consume you once again. Later, you were mad at yourself, for not choosing San sooner. He should never have been the second choice.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez san #san x reader #choi san x reader #san smut #choi san smut #san fluff #choi san fluff #choi san

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#zero.writes #rogues love letters #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fluff #red dead redemption x reader #this is so lovesick and silly i feel so miserable #I AM A JOHN GIRL. BUT. well that deadbeat father and bastard isnt gonna write you love letters like arthur im afraid