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#but he would respect her enough to let her go if he knew he was unwilling to give up his position
princessbrunette · 2 days
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how would stepbro!rafe react if his friends were ogling you and making gross comments about how badly they want you when they come over to hang out with him 😳 he’d be so angry and torn between telling them they’re not allowed to talk about you like that because he’s your protective older stepbro orrrr taking you upstairs and letting them listen to why he’s actually protective over you
i luv this idea w s1!rafe because he’s got more of a temper n the whole thing just seems more icky <33
︶︶︶⠀𓏸𓈒𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི𓈒𓏸⠀︶︶︶
you were used to the stares from rafe’s friends — the ogling that wasn’t much different from the looks you received from your stepbrother himself. that distant look of amusement, the unabashed way they’d drag their eyes all the way down your body and back up as you speak — like you were a zoo animal behind glass. you barely noticed it anymore, the whole concept of ‘boys will be boys’ having been drilled into your head from rafe’s behaviour. after marrying ward, your mother had even noticed the way rafe looked at you, she’d even raised it with ward himself — who simply shut the whole thing down by telling her “hes a guy, honey. and… she’s a young girl walking around in a bikini i mean of course he’s gonna look. he just has to get used to the way things are around here. in no time, he’ll be seeing her as a sibling and treating her as poorly as he does sarah, trust me.”
but the looks didn’t go away, and with time you started to look back. enjoy his attention. to the point where you’d secretly end up on your back, with your big step brother ‘teaching’ you things that no other guy could, or would be allowed to teach you. your dirty little secret.
you knew rafe’s friends didn’t know — which surprised you, considering you thought rafe would jump at the chance to brag on something so pornographic. you figured they had suspected something was amiss with the two of you, from the way he would take any chance to put his hands on you to ‘mess with’ you, or from the way his eyes would drop to your ass when you’d walk away — but he hadn’t said a word, which to his friends meant it was free game.
after you’d walked out the room, having had a brief discussion with rafe about dinner plans — the eyes followed you until you disappeared into the hallway.
“shit, i nearly got up and followed her.” kelce fills the silence with a joke, causing the room of guys to erupt into laughter of agreement, even topper — the boy who prided himself on being the most ‘respectful’ slapping at his arm and nodding, chortling out something along the lines of “hey you said it not me!”
rafe chuckles himself, understanding the hype. you were smoking hot, and knowing he secretly had the girl they all wanted to himself filled him with a sense of sick pride. “yeah, alright.” he drawls, hoping to end the conversation there and then as he walks back around the couch and slumps down, chewing obnoxiously at his gum.
“you see the way that ass moves, man? shit i get hypnotised everytime she’s walking away.” another comments, followed by another chiming in with “hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave!” which of course had the room erupting into more laughter.
rafe got in his head pretty quickly after that. they were laughing, and not at you — at the idea that you were so easily accessible, and yet untouchable. perhaps they were laughing at the fact rafe wouldn’t be brave enough to make a move on you, due to the odds you’d been dealt — which couldn’t be further from the truth, but rafe didn’t enjoy the insinuation of disrespect. his smile slowly slid off his face, staring ahead, continuing to chew to curb that coke craving that his irritation fed him.
he feels a hand on his shoulder, some red faced try hard from the club that had tagged along back to tannyhill with barely an invite. he sucks in a breath of excitement, unable to continue what he was about to say through his laughter and rafe curls his lip up a little bit in disgust.
“bro, if that was my step sister… things would have got real pornhub in this house, i can tell you that for fr—” his words are cut off by rafe violently shoving the boy a little too hard off him, the guy crashing off the couch onto the floor. quiet falls over the group, now noticing rafe’s sudden change in mood. he doesn’t wanna seem too bothered, so he clears his throat and adjusts his polo collar.
“s’my fuckin’ stepsister you’re talkin’ about… alright? watch your mouth.”
the group decided to drop the topic after that.
︶︶︶⠀𓏸𓈒𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི𓈒𓏸⠀︶︶︶
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writingroom21 · 2 days
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The Nanny
Pairing: rafe x nanny reader
Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?
Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy
Wc: 5.3K
Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken
Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 
The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.
Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.
Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 
“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”
“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.
“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”
This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”
“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”
Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”
“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”
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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 
Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.
It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 
The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.
So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 
The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.
As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.
No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 
Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 
You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 
“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.
He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 
“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.
Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 
To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.
He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 
You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 
He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 
“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.
 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.
How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.
There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.
The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”
The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.
“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”
He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”
With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.
“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 
He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.
Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.
 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 
“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.
 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 
If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 
Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 
“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 
“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 
“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 
“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 
“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 
He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”
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the-fiction-witch · 2 days
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Orland and Ophelia
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Shela (Fleabottom Smallfolk Girl) Rating - Sweet AF Word Count - 3093
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Aegon sits in a tavern down the deep pits of fleabottom, the place dirty, bloody and grim, the place almost empty as the sun begins to rise most heading back to whatever holes they hide in from the light. Aegon sits at a table on his ninth ale, he's hiding down here away from his family and he was a common sight in this place. He had snuck away from the red keep, away from his family and their chaos as he often did. Shela the bar girl walks with her rag cleaning up the mess from the evening in her long brown skirt, white blouse, a small apron and a blade on her hip, her Y/H/C hair pinned up but slowly falling from the night of work,
"Another round." Aegon signals another drink by lifting his tankard. He looks extremely tired. This is a regular, almost nightly occurrence for him to get completely drunk in this place.
"That's the last one," she warns him,
"Another one Shela." Aegon's voice sounded very slurred. He didn't even bother to look at her as he spoke.
"And I said no." She told him, "You've had enough Aegon." She said sternly,
Aegon let out a long sigh as he looked at her with a frown, now turning to face her. She really thought she had that much power to deny him a drink. He was the prince after all. For a moment he stared at her with a scowl on his face. Was she really gonna play that game with him? He then turned back to his empty cup for a moment knowing she was what stood between him and another drink, "Fine."
"You can stay as long as you like, but no more drinking. Else you'll find yourself head first down in the rain pits," she explained picking up his tankard to wipe his table and kissing his head as she took the tankard away and back to the bar so he definitely couldn't have another drink.
Aegon seemed to be contemplating his next move after she took his tankard away. For a moment he even looked like he might go after her with the intent of taking the tankard from her. He needed that drink, but then something stopped him. Perhaps it was the kiss she gave him. Or perhaps it was his own stubbornness and pride. He and Shela had of course kissed before, he had taken her to bed when drunk more than once and even though he knew that the kisses still made his body feel warm, but he snapped at her, "I hate you."
"I'm well aware Aegon,"
"Then why do you insist on staying with me?" Aegon had never really noticed it before but when he spoke, he realized she was the only one who never abandoned him. His parents were too busy, His siblings either resented him or feared him. But here she was, always. He couldn't think of a reason why she would want to stay when he was so drunk and miserable. Why was she?
"Well.. no matter how drunk you get you always pay your tab in gold dragons,” She chuckled, “You get into fights but you never break anything most of the time you fight outside, you’re a very loyal customer. And you can at rare times before a very sweet man."
Aegon couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did this woman, a bar-maid for seven hells, actually like him? Did she believe he was sweet? This was absurd. There were so many men in the Seven Kingdoms more worthy of her affections. Men more handsome, more charming, more...perfect. It became obvious to him that it was the alcohol speaking. And perhaps his own loneliness. Aegon tried to shrug these thoughts off and instead waved his hand to wave her off. "Whatever."
"You always get some grumpy when you drink," she chuckled,
Her comment hit a nerve with him. "I am not grumpy." He was silent for a moment before asking her a question as his own curiosity. "Why? Why do you stay? You could have any man you want. Any guy in Westeros. And you choose to hang out with a drunkard, with a prince no one respects and who's not worthy of love?"
"who says you are not worthy of love?"
"Don't you know the things they say about me in King's Landing?" He looked her directly in the eye as he spoke, making sure she was looking at him directly. "I am called a drunk. A fool. An idiot. A disgrace to the Targaryen name. I will never be loved by anyone. Not ever. Because I do not deserve it."
"all kings and lords are drunks. Most are also fools and idiots. The Targaryens have ruled a dynasty longer then anyone can remember, there have been many disgraces Aegon. You will not the the first nor will you be the last I'm sure of it. And I would make a bet one day there will be targaryens even worse then you that will make your crimes and your unworthiness seem like footnotes of history. You have not had time to find your talents with all this madness going on. And everyone deserves love in some way or another," she explained as she came over gave his head another kiss and set down a plate of hash browns and bacon a nice breakfast for him something she never usually served to people,
Aegon was speechless for a moment. He didn't like the fact that she was being so kind. It almost made him feel like...like he was wrong. And he knew better than this. This was the first time that maybe he was actually...wrong. No one had ever talked to him like this. Perhaps there was something to her story....but he still wanted to be stubborn and refuse being wrong. He took a bite from the hashbrown and spoke softly. "I still hate you..."
"I'm sure you do," she chuckled
He ate another bite and then another before he spoke. "Have we ever kissed while I was sober?"
"Not that I recall" she shrugged cleaning sine tankards behind the bar "Then again you’re so rarely sober here... I think I've only seen you sober... Twice... And both of those you were just hungover"
He kept eating his food in silence before asking her another question. "Are you married? I don’t recall ever asking,"
"You’ve never asked, and Not married no, honestly having a husband as a bar maid is sort of an occupational hazard they often get jealous and get beaten up usually. But I do have someone special,"
He stopped eating for a moment, almost choking on the bite he took of food as he processed what she just said. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “You DO? But you’ve kissed me so many times… and we’ve-” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice now. She was the first woman who he thought cared about him, and she already had someone.
"yes? Relax I'm not dating my special person it's a very different relationship but I love them very much,"
Aegon raised his eyebrows as he was taken aback by the unexpected answer. So she did love someone else, though apparently it wasn’t in a boyfriend or girlfriend sense. “Then what do you mean by special? Family?” He asked curiously for the first time, about the woman he was kissing and sleeping with so often, but never knew anything about.
"mhm, my twins" she nodded,
Now that was most certainly unexpected. He had no idea she had children. He took a bite of food and then asked her another question. “How old are they?”
"three."
“Boys or girls?”
"both one boy and one girl"
"What are their names?"
"Orland and Ophelia"
He was surprised by their names. They were quite beautiful. He had thought more common names. Aegon had a look on his face of pleasant surprise as he spoke again. "Are you going to give them another sibling?"
"I'm not planning on it but I wasn't planning in having them so if it happens I guess" she shrugged,
"And who is the father of your children?" He wanted to know more about her now and even if he didn't like it the breakfast and this chat was certainly sobering him up,
she didn't answer she simply continued to clean the tankards behind the bar, her eyes on the bar for a moment before she simply looked at him and that look told him all he needed to know, Aegon knew what that look meant, and when he did he almost choked on the last bite of food he had in his mouth. He tried to swallow it down but it didn't seem to go down. Almost like the food was stuck in his throat. All he could do was stare at her in silence after that, not even knowing what to say because he couldn't believe what he had just heard.
The silence between them went on for a bit when Aegon finally cleared his throat and spoke, though his voice was quiet and sounded hoarse.
“Shela Are you saying…?”
"yes. They're yours Aegon."
A long silence followed, as he looked at her in disbelief. His mouth was open and his eyes widened. Finally he spoke in barely a whisper. "You're joking?"
"Why would I joke about that? You think having a couple of Targaryen bastard's running around is something I'd like to be advertising?"
His eyes widened even more at the realization. The twins were his children. His blood. His flesh and bone. The thought alone overwhelmed him. For a moment he just stared at the ground. He was a father. And he had no clue. He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he had not been there for her, for them. He turned his head to look up at her again. "How long....how long have I been a father?" his voice trembling,
"well the twins are three. So add nine months from that. And I was pregnant about a year before the twins too but… I lost it"
"Oh gods...how come you never came to tell me about this?" He seemed hurt by that thought. She had his children. His blood. he'd been missing their lives for all this time.
"I did. I told you both times as soon as I knew. However, you were drunk and didn't care"
This had shocked him again. He didn’t even remember her telling him. He was so drunk all the time he couldn’t remember such things. Aegon tried to remember those memories but realized they were lost in the haze of alcohol that had clouded his past. He sighed as he realized not only did he have two children. He also missed his chance to be with the woman who truly cared for him and that in some strange way deep in his soul… he loved. He was a fool. He finally spoke again, his tone sorrowful. “Do they know about me?”
"of course they do"
He seemed surprised by that. He let out a long exhale and leaned back in his seat. His face had an expression of sadness and regret, but he tried to keep it hidden. It was his fault that she had been raising them alone for this long, and it was his fault that he was missing so much of their lives. He finally spoke with this mixture of emotions inside of him, the words laced with sadness. “Can I meet them?”
She set the tankard down, she checked the tavern was empty but the two of them. She went and locked the doors and drew the blinds clearly fearful of someone seeing her children and it became clear why, she unlocked the door that led to the basement apartment she and her children lived in and she called them up. And soon enough two happy little three year olds came into the bar, both had bright Targaryen blonde hair, Y/E/C eyes like Shela's, they wore decent clean clothes for smallfolk and seemed very happy little Ophelia even had a bunny stuffie under her arm,
Aegon's heart melted the moment he laid eyes upon his children. His son and daughter. A son and a daughter. The twins he had never known about. His children. He couldn't quite believe his eyes. And the way they came in so happily...he suddenly felt like a horrible father for being absent in their lives until now. But they didn't care. They were just happy at the sight of their father. That thought alone almost brought him to tears. He smiled at the sight of his children and waved them over. He had to meet them. He had so much to make up for. They were both so adorable. He hadn't felt this warm in a long time. The warmth he got after drinking was nothing compared to the warmth he got from seeing his children. His beautiful children.
Ophelia happily skipped over and hugged his leg, Orland was more tentative slowly walking over and sitting across from him, He gently bent down and picked Ophelia up, hugging her and holding her in his arms. He looked at her for moment before he spoke, his tone full of warmth. "Hello, little one."
Orland didn’t say a word, and Ophelia giggled happily at being picked up and sat on Aegon’s knee she nodded and took her bunny plushie moving it to use the plush to kiss Aegon’s cheek
"He is a bit... Standoffish" Shela explained fixing Orland's hair, "she however is a giggle pig" Shela smiled giving Ophelia a tickle and making her giggle like crazy
Aegon laughed aloud as he watched Ophelia being so affectionate. She was a sweet child. He also smiled and looked at Orland. He seemed to be the opposite of his sister. He was shy, stoic and quiet. He didn’t say anything as he sat across. Aegon smiled and waved for Orland to join him on his lap. He wanted to hold both this sweet children, his children.
Orland didn't move but he spoke "where have you been daddy?"
"Orland. Don't be rude" Shela said
A tear escaped Aegon’s eye at Orland’s words. He had not expected that question, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. He understood why he would ask that. Aegon was still their father after all. He wiped away his tear and spoke softly, he didn’t feel like he deserved the title of father but he was willing to fight for it. “I’m here now,”
"but mummy says your important, that's why you don't visit us. Mummy says it's not safe for you to visit us cause your family is all big and important" Ophelia said,
"We're bastards." Orland snapped. "That's why you don't come to see us,"
"Orland! What have I told you about that word!" Shela told him off
Aegon listened to them as they spoke. They knew they were bastards. He listened quietly to them as they spoke. He wanted them to know that he did not agree, "I am your father. You may be bastards as well, but that does not change the fact that you are MY children."
"we missed you daddy," Ophelia giggled
He was touched by the words. They'd missed him. How could he have missed such wonderful children? How could he have not known about the most precious beings in the world? He was ashamed of himself all over again now. But he was grateful to her that she had raised them so well. He chuckled softly as Ophelia giggled, holding her tightly with one arm and then patting her head with the other. His eyes went back to see Orland and he smiled again. "Can I hug you as well, Orland?"
Orland shook his head "you're just going to leave again, run off back to the red keep and never see us again, you'll get drunk and forget we exist -"
"Orland!" Shela said
"No! He's just going to leave us again. We're bastards, he can't stay with us, he will never want to stay with us he just wants to live in the castle with his royal family. We're just some bastards he doesn't care about us. And when you become king it'll get us killed when someone finds out"
This hurt Aegon. It hurt him more than any pain he had felt before. Orland was right, wasn't he? This is exactly what he did before. He left them. But he had been too stupid to see it. Aegon put Ophelia down and went to wrap his arms gently around his son. "You are not just some bastard's. You are my children. Yes I was an idiot. I was drunk and I forgot about you. But I will not leave you again. I promise."
Orland trembled clearly wanting to hug him back "But your just going to leave go back to the red keep and we won't ever see you again"
Aegon squeezed him gently to reassure him the moment he saw his son trembling. He would not let his son feel afraid of him anymore. "No. I don't care what they think there. I don't care what my sister thinks or any other person there thinks. My home...my real home now is with you. I won't leave you again. You are my children. And I love you no matter what."
"what about when the king's guard come looking off you, or your family, what happens when the king dies and your needed to be king. You'll leave us. You'll abandon us again. Kings guard will kill us for being bastard's" Orland hugged him but cried in fear
Aegon squeezed him gently and held him for a few seconds before speaking. He didn’t want his son to have fear and worry about such things. He would protect them no matter what happened. “No one will ever hurt you. If someone comes looking after me, I’ll make sure I’m strong enough to protect you. And if I have to become king then I swear to the gods that I will not abandon you ever again. The only thing that matters is you and your sister and I love you both.”
Orland trembled but decided to nod and trust him for now, Ophelia smiled and joined the hug so Aegon had both his children in his arms which made Shela chuckle, Aegon smiled at the sight of them both in his arms, their bodies tightly pressed against his. They were warm and soft and for a moment those four felt like a perfect family. The thought made him want to tear up, how could he have been so foolish before? He would do better. He would be the father they needed. He would never leave them again. They were going to be his entire world now.
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astarlightmonbebe · 4 months
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it's easy to read the situation between li tongguang, ruyi, and yuanzhou as a love triangle on a superficial level, but looking even one step further, it's clear that there's no triangle about it. li tongguang is obsessed with ren xin; ning yuanzhou is devoted to ren ruyi. ltg's obsession is fervent and all consuming, but it's not devotion. like ruyi herself notes, his feelings to her are on the basis of her as a mother figure in his life, as a replacement for what he never received from his mother. is there an element of romantic/sexual love/desire to it? maybe. more likely he's deluded himself into thinking that, because the truth is, it's doubtful that ltg even understands what love is (platonic, filial, familial, romantic, all of the above, etc), because he has no basis for understanding. ruyi's teachings and actions towards him are the closest thing he has to hold up as an example. what he wants is ren xin, is a replica of the master he had. he doesn't want ruyi, because he doesn't actually care about ruyi. therefore, he doesn't care if she's sad, angry, mad; he just can't bear her 'abandoning' him. we saw this way back when she first meet and left him, both at thirteen and seventeen. although he distrusts her first, she saves his life and cares for him in the way no one else has, hence her first being raised on a platform in his mind. when she leaves for good, ending their master-disciple relationship/training, even though it's for official business and she's not abandoning him, in his mind that's exactly what it is. so now that she's in his life again, he won't let her leave again. he was powerless before, a child with no proper name, but now he's a recognized member of the imperial family, a man who can meet her as 'equals' (even when that's far from the truth). as a child, he could only cling to her legs and beg her, but now he has the power to keep her by his side. it's telling that when he finally gets confirmation of her identity, it's not ning yuanzhou he seeks to harm (even though he detests him and their relationship), but yang ying. yang ying is ruyi's new disciple, and as ltg doesn't know she's a woman, he only sees her as his direct replacement.
ning yuanzhou, on the other hand, is devoted to ruyi. he wants to build a new life and future with her, instead of slotting her into a spot in the life he already has. he's someone who accompanies her on walks and makes her midnight snacks, who holds her when she needs to be held and lets her go when she needs to do things on her own. when she speaks her mind, he listens, even when it makes him discontent/it's not what he wanted/wants to hear. he sees her unabashedly as his equal, and though he acknowledges her skills and abilities, or points out her naivety, he never does it to belittle her; to him, she is his peer, deserving of the highest honor and respect. he trusts her to have his back, and she has come to trust him to have her. he did what she might have thought no man would ever do: he proved himself reliable, so she came to rely on him. yuanzhou gives her freedom and autonomy as both ren ruyi and ren xin. of course they run into problems, but they both learn and grow from them, as individuals and as a couple. yuanzhou's belief in her is unwavering, but adaptable, whereas ltg's is unwavering, but frozen in time, disallowing for any new information to be presented. yuanzhou works with ruyi to accept the changes thrown her way; he seeks the core behind her actions in order to better understand her. li tongguang cannot accept the changes in ruyi's character, because they run contrary to the master he has on a pedestal in his mind.
what li tongguang wants is to return to the past, but yuanzhou offers ruyi the promise of a future, even one that might never come to fruition. there's no triangle about it.
#star stumbles#my thoughts#a journey to love#一念关山#cdrama#written right after watching ep 26#hope i explained it well#honestly i have a lot more thoughts about this ep and ruyi/ltg but that's still a separate post that will happen. well sometime#maybe after ep 32 idk#it's just the juxtaposition between entering a room that is a shrine to the person she is trying to leave behind#and going home to a man who makes her wonton soup and accompanies her on her revenge journey#who offers his own insights and thoughts but lets her lead the way when it comes down to it.#he gives her ultimate control over her own journey. and ruyi who has never had that freedom of course is drawn to him#oh and one more point that didn't make it in#ruyi's confrontation about how ltg is unwilling to give up his power and success is further proof of his obsession =/= love or devotion#it's not that ning yuanzhou WOULD necessarily give up those things if she asked him to#but he would respect her enough to let her go if he knew he was unwilling to give up his position#of course nyz right now is someone who is planning on retiring and living a quiet life away from it all#which is appealing to ruyi#but ltg obviously won't give up his name and success. he wanted an imperial name but now that he got it the avenue has opened up#we saw his big dreams early on in eps 4-5 (before the character butchery...though i can't really call it that since it makes sense#but still drives me insane)#and of course he won't! for a neglected illegitimate child with no power even gaining a sliver of it is just the beginning#and ruyi is honestly so far from the court in that she might have been close with empress zhaojie#but her understanding of the court is very ignorant. not in a bad way but she was a weapon so of course she didn't have to understand that#she just struck when told to. the power games of the court are basic knowledge but they still shock and confuse her#so it's also a thing about living two different lives and different paths#even though yuanzhou and her are on different ones theirs are still compatible#at this point in their lives. as they said earlier if they had met earlier they probably would be trying to kill each other
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crypt1dcorv1dae · 2 years
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i cannot emphasize enough that i ship bbrae in a very trans, very gay, very QUEER way and i just simply cannot relate to the 90% cishet content out there... like have fun but the vibes arent doin it for me most of the time!!!
their vibes are SO specific to me... and ive only encountered a very small handful of people that have had the same view of them ksjdksn....
#raven is nonbinary as hell and likes everyone but tbh prolly unlabeled#she doesnt see a reason to find a specific word to deacribe her ...#but if prompted she would probably say nonbinary or genderqueer#gar is a bisexual trans man but not like 100% a dude either. hes got some special gender juice goin on#like hes every single creature in the animal kingdom.. he doesnt feel fully *HUMAN* let alone fully *male*#and he tbh takes a while to see/accept his sexuality but he does eventually#by the time hes like 19 hes probably accepted the fact that he likes men (and everyone else)#like he always liked guys but he figured it was just... admiration of his cool older teammates#also also gar knew he was trans super duper young so his birth parents knew/accepted him and let him name himself#he of course named himself after his favorite lasagna loving orange cat. bc he was like 4#he kinda regretted it bc garfield is a super dorky name but he likes the nickname gar a lot so he kept it lol#also the doom patrol also knew and accepted him but he didnt actually start transitioning until the titans#galtry knew but did not accept him and usually refused to call him by his chosen name :/#like gar passed well enough at that age so he had to refer to him accordingly to keep face but he didnt ever respect gar in any way#also about the bbraes specifically istg they need to be at least 21 and have know eachother since like 15 to be anywhere close to ready#like if they tried to date amy time before that it would absolutely not go well custheyre both too immature and young to be with eachother#like they could date someone else. someone easier. bc they are not easy to be with. theyre both difficult broken lil bastards#and they need years of maturity and built up trust and friendship and mutual understanding before taking that leap#or else the leap will lead to falling into a giant ravine and dying (metaphorically)#basically they need to be best friends before they make that move bc theyre both too messy for it to work out otherwise...#so theres years of pining and a while where each of them actually KNOWS the other feels the same... but they know neither of them is ready#so i imagine its less of a 'woah theyre together now!!!' and more just... the next logical step when the time arrives#they come together slowly and gently and without fanfair... (until kory finds out and screams so loud the entire tower hears it of course)
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gurugirl · 5 days
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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randomdragonfires · 27 days
Text
I'm A Fire And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm [One Shot]
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Text Divider by @saradika-graphics
SUMMARY | Flowers come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage.
WARNINGS | 18+; Mild Smut.
WORD COUNT | 9.6k
A/N | Yet another repost, yay! This one was written based off an ask sent to me by @wonderbias and beta read by the loml @humanpurposes
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Their union began as a fragile, delicate one.
By all accounts, Aemond Targaryen was a fine man that any maiden in the Seven Kingdoms would be proud to be with, should he– a skilled dragonrider, a scholar, a respectful man of honor, a prince worthy of his name and blood– choose to take her to wife. 
If only he was not so stoic and dull, they said. The very jovial little lady of Highgarden will be bored of him in moments!
‘Twas the first of many whispers he heard of his apparent inadequacy with regards to his impending nuptials and marriage, and even though it killed him, he could not bring himself to disagree. The woman that he was to marry – the beautiful, kind, ladylike wisp of a girl that was to be entrusted to him– was a fair maiden who lit up any chamber she graced with her presence, a stark contrast to how he seemed to darken those that he stalked into.
Charming girl like that, she will hate him, they said. The poor thing is probably scared.
Every lady dreamed of chivalrous knights and charming princes, and Aemond knew very well that he was far from being either. They dreamed of charming men who would immortalize them in song, whose looks could thaw the hearts of the coldest women in an instant. Aemond knew very well that the Gods had refused him the chance to even try with her– what with their allowance of his mutilation at a tender, young age. 
Even with just one eye, he saw many possibilities but to his dismay, he did not imagine any outcome would be favorable to him. With the scar he carried on his face and the weight of the world on his shoulders, Aemond was never meant to be the man that his intended deserved. 
And so, he decided that he would keep her at arm's length and in consequence, save his pride. He'd reject her before she rejected him. He may not know it now, but matters of the heart are fickle– and to the utter disappointment of his pride, his little lady rose was very easy to love. 
He would not be caught dead pathetically pining after a woman who would soon be his. He would not.
And so, their courtship remained devoid of romance and scandal. His family was made privy to each of their highly appropriate conversations, with them taking turns in chaperoning their walks through the gardens. 
There was nothing that he wished to share, for he did not want to lose too much. He did what was expected of him, and she did the very same. Soon, there was respect, admiration, and a whole host of burgeoning feelings that Aemond tried hard to suppress - feelings that he clearly did not see in her eyes as she dared to look into his.
How could she feel anything for a stoic, dull, one-eyed man like him?
As he draped the red and black cloak over her shoulder and pledged to be her man of liege and limb, he told himself that he would not try. He would not give into fantasies, only to be met with rejection from a woman who was too good for him; one that may realize it soon enough as well.
After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride. He would feed himself to the dragons before admitting to someone else being better than him, let alone be rejected by that same person. He was certainly not going to woo her, not when he knew that he would only be met with contempt and disgust.
It did not matter how badly he wanted to. He would not allow himself to succumb to such idyllic daydreams. He would not.
When night fell and the wedding feast was in full swing, his new good-father was the only one who could give his brother a run for his money with how deep he was in his cups. It was obvious how the wine-induced stupor affected the fat lord Tyrell as he bellowed for his daughter and his new good son to take the lead and join in the dancing and merriment.
Aemond was ready to retch at the thought, but what stopped him from making his irritation  clear was the possibility that she may want to dance. His wife. He had seen her dance before– as graceful as an otherworldly swan. She had a better grasp at frivolous courtly affairs than he did. 
His wife may want to dance. His wife, his wife, his wife. A little rose, his.
He shuffled his feet under the cloth-covered long table and allowed his one eye to train over his clothed boots. In spite of all the dancing lessons he had taken with Helaena, Aemond had never indulged before– and now, he was expected to entertain his bride each time a song played. The thought made him want to press his feet into the ground further than he already has, in hopes that perhaps the ground would swallow him whole.
His view of the dancing crowd had been taken from him by half along with his eye. Without the luxury of complete vision, he could not dance without bumping into everyone that was on his blind side. Now, he would have to– if she wanted to. 
He thought he could say no, but he feared that if he were to look her in the eyes, he'd never be able to. Perhaps that was why he had refused to even look at her throughout the ceremony, despite her many admirable– yet failed– attempts to catch his line of sight and share a smile.
It was her meek, mouse-like voice that brought him out of his nervous trance. “We do not have to," she said, the words falling out of her lips like a song.
“You like to dance, my lady,” he said.
“But you do not, my prince. It takes two.” Her surprisingly understanding words were followed by a timid smile, one that threatened to rip through his defenses and get to him.
In the crowded throne room, as his new bride sets aside her happiness to accommodate his preferences, Aemond worried that his self-imposed distance from her may not last too long if she kept offering him kind glances and sweet smiles– no matter how forced and dutiful he knew them to be.
He had much to lose; his pride, his heart. He would not risk it, even if she was seemingly easy to love. He would not. He would not. He would not.
After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride. 
Soon after, her drunk nuisance of a father had called for the bedding. Aemond did nothing as his trembling bride was ushered away by the handmaidens and ladies, each of them wriggling her jewelry off as she stumbled in her steps before they carried her off.
Should he have asked for a private bedding? In hindsight, he believed he wronged her by throwing her to the mercies of the court in her vulnerability. Equally, he did not want to attempt a show of compassion– not when she may not even welcome it from the one-eyed fiend of a husband that she was stuck with.
When he walked into the chambers in his loose linen shirt and breeches, his breath hitched in his throat. Helaena had once told him that the Septas refer to women’s maidenheads as flowers. “Beautiful, ripe and ready for the plucking,” she had said, keeping her nose pointed upward in her imitations. He'd never given the words much thought. 
Until now.
There she was. His wife, his flower, his rose, ready for plucking, in her translucent white shift and now untamed hair, like a fae in a dream. How could she possibly be his? How could she possibly be happy with a man as monstrous as him for a husband? 
Her eyes, wide and fearful, flittered about his face, in his mind an expression of her repulsion. It pained him to think she did not even give him a chance.
But she was accommodating about my not wanting to dance… 
Perhaps she did like to dance; just not with him. 
These unsaid words and subsequent misunderstandings plagued their wedding night. Both believed the other did not desire them. 
That night, she offered her flower to him– as is her duty– and he took great care in taking it from her. He made sure she was pliant, so that when he took it, she would be as glad and thrilled as he was, regardless of how well-hidden his happiness was. 
He may have grimaced in disgust at Aegon's vulgar demonstrations and lessons about the pleasures of the marital bed, but he was thankful as he heard her moan out his name in a silent scream while she convulsed around his fingers. The silent sounds of her choked out moans and the heat engulfing his fingers may have very well been enough for Aemond to find release, and he reminded himself quickly that she will not want him when they're done. How could she, deformed as he was?
And so, he stopped wanting to be good for her, and simply endeavored to get it done with.
She was only more than willing to allow him to take her flower. If he was not so preoccupied with his own insecurities, he may have seen that it had gone past duty for her. Her loud moans proved the fact, and left little room for dispute (or doubt, in the minds of the prying ears that stayed close to the doors of their chambers, and the sharp eyes of the council who were now shuffling out of their seats).
He inched into her, and her tears and turned face only seemed to make it harder for him. Was he so beyond hope that she could not even look? What was it? Had he hurt her? He did not ask, lest he risk finding out that he was a disappointment. So he lost himself, drowned in his own head as he mechanically moved in and out, in and out, in and out. 
Duty. Duty. Duty.
If he had not been so preoccupied with tearing his own being to shreds in his mind, he may have heard her moans as the bright pink tip of his cock hit a rough spot in her, allowing her pleasures and experiences she did not believe she would ever know. He may have known that she desired him, just as he did her.
His self-deprecating thoughts couldn't have been farther from the truth– he may not have realized it that night, but he would soon enough.
Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the first ever flower she gave him– whether she chose to see it that way or not– came to him on their wedding night, in the form of her maidenhead.
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Tourneys were a time of celebration for her.
There was something to be said about the romance of watching men ask women for favors and fight with all the might and grace that they possess. She had often dreamed that a dashing knight or a courteous prince would perhaps approach her for her favor, and then perhaps crown her Queen of Love and Beauty. If she was lucky, the man would court her too.
The man she married was the antithesis of all that she hoped a tourney would bring.
Her husband was not a bad man by any means– no. He was a good and respectful husband, slightly removed and isolated for her outward nature, but she did not mind. There were worse men to be married to, and even if he never went out of his way to be there for her, he certainly treated her well when they were in each other’s presence.
She tried with him, Gods bless her. 
She would try to catch his eye at the supper table, or watch him train in hopes that he would meet her watchful gaze once or twice. She would watch in a sleepy haze as he woke early in the morn, long before she had the strength or consciousness to wish him a good day, hoping he would turn to do the same. He never did.
More often than not, a curt nod and a wavering glance was all she’d get.  Still there were brief, hopeful moments that kept her active in her pursuit to build a friendship with her husband.
She would have done something absolutely obnoxious— acts that would have him sneering if it was someone else– and she’d see it. That little hint of a smile, waiting to bubble through the surface, just by the corner of his pink lips, that she would have missed if she blinked. Each time there was a tenuous beginning of a hesitant smile, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.
He was not so intimidating to her now as he was in the initial days of their union– no. In a little corner of her mind, she acknowledged that fact– that is what helped her find his hand and hold it tight in nervousness, before she could even comprehend the intimacy of the act.
The knight who had just taken a harsh tumble from his horse was carried away by servants, with his head beaten bloody and hands hanging limp by his side. If she did not know better, she would have thought him dead.
The champion then raised his hands up in victory. Thunderous clapping sounds overshadowed all else around her, but she could not bring herself to join. She was still stunned by how the other knight had fallen, and was yet to let go of Aemond’s hand.
She felt the bile rise in her throat, so she brought her other hand to her chest and bowed her head down, a feeble attempt at keeping the vomit at bay. It was awhile until she managed to catch her breath again, and by then the celebrations had moved on from celebrating the champion to the crowning of his Queen of Love and Beauty.
The eldest Lady Baratheon smiled coyly as she received the wreath of winter roses, followed by a chaste kiss to her cheek. The crowd gasped at how brazen the act was, with neither of them being married, but the high of winning makes men do the most peculiar things, she supposed. In the back of her mind, regardless of how uneasy she felt, she wished– desperately. 
How she wished it was her. 
A childish fantasy really. What was a publicly gifted crown of flowers worth in the face of what she had? She was a Princess of the realm now, married to a skilled dragonrider from a family of illustrious history and blood. Any children they may have will be immortalized in the annals.  Nothing. A crown of flowers was worth nothing when compared to what she had– or at least, that is what she would tell herself.
And yet, she craved the romance. She had always enjoyed the idea of being loved and cherished. Her husband respected her, and if she was feeling bold, she’d say he liked her– but he certainly did not love her. That much she was certain of. When she naively wished that he’d crown her, she asked if he was going to enter the lists. He had sharply turned so quickly that she feared she had angered him.
“I don’t give a sh…” He had sighed before speaking again, as though he felt tested. “I do not care for tourneys.” The sharpness in his voice had hurt her, and she did not speak of it again.
Their marriage was a decent one– but it held none of the love she hoped to have, despite all her attempts.
Did he find her so disagreeable?
All of a sudden, his hand felt cold to the touch and she let go of him like he burned her. The heat came back to her hand just as it showed on her cheeks, and his had turned cold from having lost her touch so abruptly.
“I’d like to get some fresh air, husband,” she said, and rose before he could even ask if she needed him to accompany her.
Her quick walk took her to the tent where the court ladies had been sitting, and she had stepped in right in time to hear them gossip– about her husband.
“Well he must keep it on while they… you know! It can be jarring to look at, I’m sure it is!”
“It must be terrible to see it up close all the time. I can hardly look at him from across the chamber!”
He is certainly unnerving. It does make you wonder though, do you think they actually…” the woman lowered her voice to match the vulgarity that was to follow. “Do you think they actually fuck? She cannot possibly want to, and she is not with child either…”
“Well, does it really matter if she wants to? He’s a Prince, and her husband. He’ll take his pleasure regardless.”
Regardless of where she and her husband stood, she would not stand for their marriage to become fodder for court gossip. If she stayed quiet for any longer while these empty-headed women berated her husband, she would be insulting him herself.
“Might I ask what is so amusing?”  she said with sharp eyes and a tilted head. The sweat on their faces upon her arrival was apparent, and so was their nervousness.
“My Lady, we were just–”
“Princess,” she corrected.
“Yes of course, Princess. We were just–”
“Making presumptions about my marriage?” 
“No… we just…”
“Don’t deny it,” she seethed, anger looking completely foreign on a soft, comely face like hers. Her nostrils flared and her nose went red in her current state, but there was no way she could stop now. 
“The next time you feel the need to comment on such matters , perhaps you will all learn to remind yourself that he is a Prince of the realm and I am his wife! There will be suitable punishment, and you will all be dismissed from court at my pleasure, disgraced and husbandless. Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her words were cutting and sharp, and they had the younger ladies bowing their heads in fear almost immediately.
“I’ll have you all know that unlike the other men of the court, Prince Aemond’s scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. His bravery only makes him more handsome to me.”
She then fixed her attention onto the married lady of the bunch and delivered a questionable blow that she would certainly feel bad about later. “If you’ve been led to believe that the man takes his pleasure from his wife even if she does not want to, then perhaps your marriage is a lot worse than I thought. Your husband must have no regard for your wants, unlike mine. And for that, I am truly sorry.”
She did not wait for them to respond as she gathered her skirts and walked out of the tent, feeling largely annoyed and satisfied to an extent. But as she began her walk back, the fear of news of her anger reaching her husband hit her like a harsh and heavy wave.
Would he call her insolent and disgraceful? Has she damaged her marriage more than it already has been?
She did not have to wait long for her answer, for Aemond had been just a few steps behind her, watching the entire scene unfold. The angry flush on her face left her as quickly as it had come, replaced by a skittish nervousness that led to her shuffling her feet as she stood before him, at a complete loss for words.
She swallowed the spit gathering in her mouth, throat bobbing as her head remained facing down to the floor, awaiting a scolding from him for her absolutely inexcusable behavior; her husband was a man who knew his courtesies, after all. He could not possibly be happy with how she carried herself and disappointed him.
“You do not look well. Let me walk you to our chambers,” was all he said before he led her away with a hand on the small of her back.
She remained worried that he was perhaps leading them to privacy and silence so he could punish her while being undisturbed. She could not have been farther from the truth.
She expected him to scream at her, forget all the courtesy that he had shown her and throw his words at her without care. What she was not prepared for, was for him to hold her chin between his thumb and index fingers, pulling her face up to meet his.
He curiously inspected her, almost as though her little show of anger thoroughly amused him. She would not be surprised if it did– she had never been so outward in her anger in the two months that they had been married; this was a completely new side to her that he was now privy to.
“What was that, wife?” His words were measured and cut. 
“They…” She was stunned to find that, despite her tongue becoming loose in moments of anger,  it was hard for her to speak right now. So, she chose to gulp once more and tried to look someplace else. The uncertainty in his sharp, one-eyed violet gaze was becoming too much for her to bear– but Aemond did not give up easily. He kept her head held in place as she desperately waited for the words to come to her.
“They were being crude, and insulting you.”
He looked at her for a moment, his sharp gaze refusing to waver as the sunlight pierced through the glass windows of their chamber. He then let go of her, and handed her a goblet of wine to calm her clearly unsteady senses. He watched as she took little sips from the chalice, the restless turning of the wheels in his mind apparent on his face. 
Soon after, he made up a sham of a reason about having to leave when the cheering crowds became louder and louder. She nodded and continued to sip, completely oblivious to the change of heart that her husband was having as she wondered why he brought her back to their bed.
She did not know the thoughts that now ran fast and surely in his mind. She did not know that he thought his eye had cost him a chance at a happy marriage with her. She had no idea of knowing how conflicted he felt at the new realization, for his sculpted face gave nothing away.
He turned to face her with a hand on the door.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.
She nodded and smiled meekly while he stalked back to the festivities.
He held his hands tightly behind him as he tried to make sense of how light his heart felt in comparison to the rest of him. 
Back in the chamber, she blushed. For all her worry that he may have been disappointed, she had been completely floored by how he had responded– he was thankful. She berated herself for not considering the possibility– and smiled at the realization that for all her husband’s prowess as a warrior, in times like these,  he needed a champion too. 
That night, Aemond burned the midnight oil while reading in the library, trying to still his racing heart and make sense of how it leapt at newfound thoughts of his little wife. 
Across the Holdfast, in the soft candlelight of their shared chambers, she sat on her husband’s dear chair, looking at her handiwork– an embroidered silk tourney favor, with a little rose.
Her husband may not care for tourneys, but making the favor allowed her the luxury of thinking that should the possibility of him willingly entering the lists come around, he would do so with her gift on his lance. Mayhaps he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty too– the thought makes her blush.
She would give it to him should he ever choose to partake someday. Until then, it would be safely hidden away in her shelves, amidst her gowns and other possessions.
Flowers have came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the second flower that was intended for him– despite the fact that she was yet to give it to him– came to him on the day of the the twins’ name day tourney, in the form of a rose, embroidered onto a tourney favor. 
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They have come to enjoy each other's company.
Her coming to his defense while expecting nothing in return had lit a fire in Aemond that he could not seem to quell. What he believed she had rejected him over, she had actually taken to being proud of. What he had believed was his one big, obvious and visible fatal flaw, was something that she had taken to holding in high regard.
I’ll have you lot know that unlike the other men of the court, his scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. And his bravery only makes him more handsome to me.
Her words rang in his mind like the definite tolling of the Great Bell at the Royal Sept. With each chime, her assertiveness on the matter came back to linger in his thoughts, he had fallen for her – bit by bit. 
Feelings had always been a conundrum to Aemond, one that he did not entirely understand or even want to. But now, with a wife who warmed him and his heart slowly but surely, with her lovely smiles and nervous face, he found that he would like some certainty in the face of all that was uncertain in his heart.
He did not know if he loved her just yet. But what he did know was that, at the pace that she had set for them, it may be a very short while before he does. His wife. His wife, his wife, his wife. 
His, his, his.
Coming to terms with having a wife that actually desired his company– and him, surprisingly enough– had spurned his attempts to bring some sort of intimacy to their marriage. Gods knew that she had tried, only to be rebuffed rudely by him in the initial days of their marriage. It was a time that he now felt deep regret and shame for, one that he would not rest until he had made right. 
He needed her to see that he wanted to try.
He did not know how to be the charming prince from a bard’s songs. He did not know how to make women laugh like Aegon; be as sweet and kind as Helaena; or as chivalrous and perfect as Daeron. 
But what he did know was respect. Aemond understood respect as something that was earned by everyone around him, but to his wife, it should have been unconditional. It should have come to her the day he had cloaked her and made her his– but it did not. Now, he intended to make it right.
He needed her to see that he wanted to try– which is how he found himself with her on his arm, as they walked hand in hand through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast towards their chambers. Ah yes, hand in hand. Another one of the little joys that he savored like it was his last day alive. 
Their initially cold marriage had also been fueled by his blatant refusal to simply be near her, much less touch her. Why would she have wanted to be touched by a one-eyed monster, such as the likes of him? 
But the moment he realized that she did not consider him so– not in the least– led to a warmth seeping through his blood, making him crave her so much that his heart hurt. If she did not mind it, why must he not exercise his liberties? And if there was some joy to be derived from it, why would they not want to indulge?
And so he had begun. A stolen touch here, a featherlight graze there. 
His huge, calloused hand, seemed to be always holding her dainty one as he accompanied her throughout their time in the castle; on the small of her back as they maneuvered through feasts and dances; around her waist as they closed the distance between each other in their sleep, with her back to his chest; clutching onto her thigh to keep her in place for when she turned around and draped her tiny leg upon his waist.
His hands, all over her.
It was not just these fleeting, quick touches that Aemond had grown to enjoy. With their bond growing stronger with each passing moment, he had realized that their marital duties were simply not duties anymore. They had gone from believing that the other had tolerated their presence, to trying their level best so that the other would know how much they desired them. The growth of their marriage was evident in how their carnal indulgences had evolved.
Where he had held himself to hover over her so as to not facilitate any unnecessary touches, he had now taken to covering her entire being with his own. His hands around her hip as he pounded into her; her hands on his chest as the tip of her fingers grazed and pinched at his nipples. His hands in her hair as he mouthed at her heaving breast; her hands around him as she held onto him as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go. His hands on her cunt as he drew peak after peak from her before thrusting himself into her; her hands around his cock as she pumped him before impaling herself by straddling him, just the way he liked. 
Their sounds of pleasure had been held back and muffled in the beginning, but now they were uninhibited sounds taken by the wind, made with the intent of being heard and making desires known.  
Oh yes, their marriage had grown. 
This is what Aemond had been pondering as he led her through, with servants making their way for the young prince and princess as she held onto her husband with one hand, and a piece of rolled parchment and some charcoal on the other. He enjoyed their touches now, and it made his heart soar that he did not have to doubt her want for him either. 
Yes, they could make something out of this.
“How was your time in the gardens, wife?” It made him happy that with the growth of their marriage, she had taken to exercising her liberties. So, when she had come to him requesting charcoal and bound parchment so she could begin drawing again, he was only happy to oblige. 
“Good. I managed to sit and watch the flowers flit about in the wind for a time, and I drew a bit as well. Then the court ladies came to join me as they…”
Aemond listened to his wife as he sat himself on his chair by the hearth, most intently, and with the utmost concentration that he could muster. He could not bring himself to make selfless romantic declarations of love, or speak to her more than he was able. But he could listen, and that is what he would do. 
Not a word unheard, not a moment missed. He needed her to see that he wanted to try.
She prattled on and on about her day, and how the court ladies had gossiped about each other when they thought the other wasn’t listening. He listened to the way her voice heightened when her recollections were happy, and he noted the way she frowned when she was in disapproval. He observed how her eyes widened at shocking narrations, and how her hands seemed to move like they had a life of their own. 
He kept observing, losing himself in his newfound knowledge of her, her, her… and it was not until she stood close to him, her body slotted between his legs as she held her hands behind her back that he realized she had stopped speaking.
“Go on.”
He did not expect to be given something, not when his name day had just passed. But that is exactly what happened. 
“For you,” she said. With her raised eyebrows and coy smile, she managed to place  a parchment roll into his hand. Aemond made note of how her head faced down and her feet shuffled as she stood in wait for his approval.
He unrolled the parchment, careful to not cause even a stray tear at the edges. His eyes raked over the drawing, one of clear skill and years of training of the highest level– one befitting a lady.
“I shall treasure it, thank you.” 
She smiled at his acceptance, and he nodded. He was not a smiling man, but he hoped that she knew how much he appreciated these gestures. He hoped that their marriage had grown enough for her to notice his quirks, just as he had made note of hers.
Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the third flower that she had given him was a charcoal sketch of a rose, into which she had poured her heart and soul.
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As the days passed, their mornings became brighter.
While she had hoped that the initial days of their marriage would have some semblance of love, and if not, at least affection to some extent, her hopes had been quickly dashed with the closed off and curt behavior that her husband seemed to have made his own. Neither did he ever wish her a good morrow upon sunrise, nor did he kiss her goodnight like in the songs.
But now, there was more.
Where there was coldness, there was now warmth. It was not heat, not like wildfire, no– it was warmth, like from the calm blaze of their hearth. She might not have awoken to a smile, no– her husband was not a smiling man– but she always woke to an arm snaked over her breasts, pressing into her. Where there was distance, oceans between them, there was now a shared intimacy, one that they had both been quietly happy about. She was not put to sleep with a kiss, but whenever she slept on the chaise waiting for him to arrive, he now ensured that she was put into comfortable clothes and carried to their bed with care. 
He may not have cared for her in the beginning, but she knew he did now. Her husband was not a romantic man, but his small gestures were enough to make her feel happy and content.
The shift in their dynamic was not just visible in their daytime activities, but in the passions of their marriage bed as well. On the first night that they had coupled, he had been careful, experimental, doubtful. But as the days went by, he had become surer, rougher… insatiable.
She enjoyed this new side to him. She enjoyed being the woman that belonged to a fierce prince, the one that he so clearly desired. She enjoyed being held by him as he moved her up and down his cock, his head buried in her breasts as he breathed in the heady smell of sweat and sex. She enjoyed being impaled by him, her small body being split into two, all while having him whisper words of appreciation in her ears. 
My little wife, my little flower. Made for me… only for me, he would say. Tell me who this cunt belongs to, he would growl, hands slapping her little nub over and over until she caught her breath, found her voice again and appeased him.
You! Gods… to you, my prince, she would whine, holding his hand in place, hoping he would fuck her with his fingers once more, just the way she liked.
It came as no surprise to her that ever since they had become welcome to each other’s affections, they had been a lot more active in their marriage bed– so much so that the lewd moans and loud curses had become court gossip.
When she had addressed the matter with him once soon after they had fucked, Aemond had smiled, albeit darkly– the only kind of smile that suited him. Dragons do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he had said. His insinuation that she was now a dragon too, all while his warm breath fanned her neck and his large hands squeezed her backside, was all she needed to quell her worries.
And of course, as was the natural order of these things, she was now with child.
She had been overjoyed when she had found out, and a tad relieved too. The court ladies whispering about her womb was not something she appreciated– their assumptions about her being barren, even less. So when she found out, she insisted that she be the one to break the news to her husband– her time as an expectant mother would never completely be her own, given the station she had now married into. 
But this, this moment could be hers and his. It would be theirs alone.
And so, she sat in wait at the training grounds, watching him as he expertly maneuvered his sword and slashed at his mentor, Ser Cole. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge–
Ser Cole had bested him, having noticed the predictability in his movements. Aemond of course, being the headstrong man that he was, refused to give up. The anger in his face at being won over in a fight did not escape her, and she would be lying if she said it did not awaken desire in her once more. Before she could think further however, one of the lords in the audience had piped up. 
“Perhaps the Prince would benefit from a token of luck from his dear lady wife!” He said, and the watching crowd around them seemed to agree as they cheered and whistled. Aemond was flummoxed, not knowing how to cope with being faced with the topic of his wife while in the middle of a fight. It was only then that he noticed her, red-faced and smiling as she was– before he could say anything, she had taken the lead.
“I’m afraid I’ve come empty handed, my lord. I’ve nothing to offer him right now!” She quipped with a smile. It had warmed him to know that she was jovial enough for the two of them, allowing him the luxury of staying quiet as she became his champion during situations like these.
“Ah well, he knows you’re here now, Princess! If that does not add to his fire, I do not know what will!”
Perhaps it was her presence, or it was his own prowess as a swordsman. But Aemond was quick to come through this time around. The crowds cheered for their Prince, and so did the man who had taught him to be all that he was.
“Well met, my prince,” Ser Cole said. He patted her dragon prince on his shoulder and walked over to where the swords were arranged. Aemond quickly followed in reverence to his teacher, one that he did not freely give to most. Soon after, the crowds had dispersed, and she watched as his slender, tall form stalk towards her.
“Since when do you frequent the training grounds, wife?”
“Can a wife not seek her husband out when she wants to?” 
She could not have imagined rhetorics like these tumbling out of her mouth in the initial days of their union. But they were now closer than they had ever been, and she had discovered that it would not hurt to take initiative, especially given how quiet of a man her husband could be.
He was not the charming prince from the books or the songs, but she certainly loved who he was– inquisitive, considerate and respectful.
“Hm. Perhaps.”
Their walk back to their apartments was a slow and quiet one, with her knowing that he preferred his moments of quiet soon after his training. They soon settled into the solar, with the food spread out for them to break their fast.
As was his habit, Aemond stripped himself of his clothes as she checked the water in the tub with the tips of her fingers, water rippling as her hands moved. He was quick to step in and let his hands rest on either side of the tub, his legs ramrod straight but slowly loosening up as she ran a washcloth over him with a gentle softness that is most unlike him.
Her hands glided over his chest, arms and he caught hold of her when her hands moved to clean his neck, beckoning her to come closer. “My dutiful little flower, hm? Come to assist her husband and answer his every beck and call.”
“I am nothing, if not dutiful.” She said, playful smile teasing him as her breasts threatened to spill out of the neckline of her dress– causing his cock to half-harden at the sight. She kissed his cheek and set the washcloth down, hands traveling to his alabaster hair as she ran her fingers through it, allowing her wet hands to trudge through. When she was done, he was quick to pull at her hand from his side, causing her to bend to meet him, eyes to eye.
“You have a council meeting to get to, husband. Now is not the time.” 
She knew very well what he wanted. It was what she wanted too– which is precisely why her own protests meant absolutely nothing to her as she gave in, dress riding up to her thighs and billowing wet in the water as she straddled him. Her cunt was already soaked for him, and he was hot and ready from all the energies that training seemed to have put into him. She rocked her hips forward and backward, adjusting to his girth, while sighing and breathing at the feeling of having him in her. It did not matter how many times he’d taken her, she would never get used to feeling so full. 
Soon enough, he had her held harshly by her waist in a bruising grip, his teeth nibbling at her sensitive nipples as he moved her up and down, up and down, up and down. The water crashed out of the tub like waves crashing onto shore and she was quick to fall apart in a mix of pain and pleasure, moaning his name in her broken voice, followed by a silent scream. His release followed soon after, cock twitching in her as he drew her closer, closer and closer still. When she felt his cock soften after a time, she got up and he let her, following close behind. 
“You fought well today, husband.” She said, in a feeble attempt to coerce a conversation from him as they sat at the table. He was a man of silence, and she was not. He did not prefer it, but she would try anyway - because there were times when he indulged her.
“Hm. Thank you.”
The smell of cut fruit was intoxicating to her, more so than usual. She had heard of women craving peculiar kinds of food during their time as expectant mothers, so she supposed that this may have to do with the little dragon that she now grew in her belly. The rest of their time eating moved in a swift silence– a comfortable one. The only sounds they heard were of the servants in the corridors and the birds chirping from out the window.
When they finished, the trays were taken away and he got up, ready to leave to sit in on the council meeting that his grandfather had called him for. He was halfway out the door after nodding to her when she took his hand, and he stopped.
Her hands held onto his as tightly as they could, and she was skittish as she continued to look down at the floor. By now, he knew her quirks well enough to know that she did that only when she wanted to say something.
“Go on.” He urged her as his other hand reached for her too.
She drew in a sharp breath as she bit her lip. “I… I am with child, husband.”
She did not know what to expect from him of her news– but his silent sigh and slight smile as his hands reached down to cover her belly in his hold is enough of a reaction. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude and happiness made obvious– to her, even if not to anyone else. She did nothing but smile as his forehead met hers in a soft touch– their touches were always passionate and rough while in the privacy of their chambers, so it was peculiar for her to be treated this way. She found that she enjoyed it, just as much as she enjoyed being roughly handled by him.
She then stretched the fingers of one hand, revealing a little silk patch, a little tourney favor with a rose stitched on it. A flower, from his little flower.
“I know you do not prefer tourneys, but… it is my hope that you would at least keep it with you while you train.”
His hands ran over the soft silk, fingers tracing the intricate patterns that she had clearly taken her time with. He was quick to smoothen it out and pocket it, following it with a kiss to her lips. 
“Thank you, for everything.” 
The favor was only meant for the training grounds. But a week later, when she found it peeking out of his pocket while they walked around the gardens, she smiled. Soon, she found out that he kept it with him all day.
Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fourth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of a favor with an embroidered rose, one that he kept on his person at all times.
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There was something to be said about the comforts of silence.
Her husband was not a smiling man, nor was he an ardent conversationalist. Being a woman who leaned towards being both, she had begun their marriage with the intent of treading lightly, lest she annoy him or risk having him dismiss her halfway through. And she did try; Gods knew that she did. 
Royal marriages were a sacred duty– those held in its sanctity would have to hold themselves to a higher standard, no matter how much it hurt them. With that being said, she was eternally thankful for Aemond understanding her preferences and trying to meet her halfway. She had been prepared for a man who would coldly dismiss her and her wants, but she had not been prepared for one that would actually want her.
One of the greatest pains of being born a noblewoman, she supposed, was that happiness in itself, was a privilege– one that she wished was not as such. She wished for it to be an easy thing to have, and as such, understood that she had been blessed with a quiet and peaceful marriage - one that did not take from her more than she was willing to give. It did not matter how many times she thought it over– she never failed to be as grateful as she was at the first realization, many moons ago. 
These were her thoughts as she accompanied her husband in the library. Aemond sat opposite her, on the other side of the table with his finger running over the texts of the Summer and Winter Annals, deeply engaged in the knowledge that the book had to offer on the now lost Kingdom of Sarnor, once a famed trade partner of Valyria. 
The fresh assortment of flowers lay haphazardly on her side of the bench, while she worked towards entwining them all onto the coir to make a crown. She often stole a glance at her husband as she repeatedly adjusted herself on her seat, one that was bigger than her usual one - to accommodate her, and the babe that she now carries. 
An heir, a royal heir. There is dragon blood in you now, he had said. 
She felt it, what with her babe’s constant reminders - boy or girl, the kicks were hard and swift, and it never failed to take her by surprise.
Aemond was a very fast reader, she gathered. His pages turned a lot faster than hers did, and his eyes never stuck to one part of the parchment for long - they flitted about and were restless, aiding him in his desire to learn as much as he can in the least amount of time. They have been married for half a year by now, and yet she manages to learn something new about him every day.
Her deft fingers worked through the stems of the flowers, piercing the sharp ends of the coir through them. In and out, in and out, in and out, she went - establishing a pattern that she ended up memorizing, whether she was cognizant of it or not.
Aemond stood up as he noticed a guard waiting near the doors, summoning him on behalf of the King. Her crown was now completely done, and she admired her handiwork as she twirled it in her finger and smiled. Aemond was now speaking to the guard as she ran the tip of her fingers over the petals. She brought it closer to her nose to smell them - the flowers were not as fragrant as they were once before, but there was a faint scent that she adored. 
He nodded, and she could not help but smile again as he approached her. It struck her harder with each moment, how the Gods had blessed her with him - him with his infinite knowledge, calm disposition and otherworldly beauty. She wondered if the babe she carried would look like him - she hopes, hopes and hopes that they would.
He took the crown of flowers in his hands and handled it with the same care that she put into making it. It looked thoroughly out of place, yet so at home in his hands - much like herself.
A mildly happy lift at the edge of his lips caused a sharp dimple - one that made him look harsh, content and menacing at the same time. She may have wished for a Prince from the songs all the moons ago - but right now, she could not help but think that she had been blessed with someone greater, even if she knew that he did not believe it himself. 
He placed the crown atop her head, crowning her. She remembered wishing he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty at the twins’ name day tourney - but at this moment, as his fingers glided over her smooth hair to set the crown of white roses into place, she was happier than she could have ever been at any tourney.
“Escort the Princess safely to our chambers,” he ordered, after rubbing her growing stomach and giving her a kiss on her temple before going to meet the King. She stood slowly, and noticed that one unused and withering flower had been left behind. The air from outside the castle gushed through the windows, and it was purely by instinct that she grabbed it by the stem and placed it inside the pages of Aemond’s book before the pages flew - so it would be marked and he could begin where he left off if he so wished.
Long after her exit, Aemond came back to his bench after finishing his meeting with the King. He noticed the protruding stem, and he could not help but feel the warmth coarse through his chest as he opened the tome and found the withering flower pressed inside.
Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fifth flower that she gave to him came to him in the form of a dried rose, one that he kept tucked safely inside his favorite book.
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It was moments like these that made Aemond believe in anyone but himself.
Being able to love someone blindly was not a gift that Aemond ever found himself capable of giving. Ever since the loss of his eye, he had grown to be full of spite and resentment, believing that having his dragon was enough to make the loss of company around him worthwhile. Nobody knew how to speak to him anymore– how does one comfort a boy who could only see half the world around him?
And then, she came to him. His wife.
With her free smiles and open heart, she had made her way through into the center of his. He found that he preferred her there, where she belonged. She had made her home in his heart, and he marveled at how despite not matching up to her in any way that mattered, she had found it in herself to allow him to take shelter in hers.
It brought him shame to think of how they could have fallen in love much sooner if he had been open to her affections and not been so wrapped up in his own presumed fallacies. But with time, he learned that in a world where marriages remained cold until the bitter end, a late bloom of happiness was a gift that he should learn to treasure.
It is a girl. Do not ask me why I believe so, husband. I simply do, she had said.
The tomes say a bigger belly is indicative of a boy. I read it, he had countered then.
He stood corrected. Aemond would tell the entire realm that his worldly knowledge did not stand a chance against his wife’s intuition– the little girl he held in his arms was enough support for his claim. 
She slept soundly in his arms as he sat in his chair by the hearth. His wife, tired from her taxing labors, had taken to sleeping through most of the last three days, and he had not left his daughter’s side, not once.
He held her head as his mother carried her for the very first time, eyes shining in joy as she thanked them both for making her a grandmother once more. There were very few things that gave Alicent Hightower joy, and watching her children have babes of their own was one of them.
He rested the tip of his fingers over her smooth and frail silver hair as his grandfather took a good look at her, allowing himself a moment with his guard down. Aemond had not seen his grandfather look at anyone with such  reverence, not unless it was Helaena, Jaehaera or his own mother. And now, Aemond suspected that his grandfather, for all his cold demeanor, did have a soft corner in his heart for the women of his life.
He had towered over the crib as the twins took turns gawking at her, after spending hours begging to see their new cousin. Aemond brought them after they promised to not make too much noise– both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Jaehaera had asked him if she could braid her hair when she grew some, and Jaehaerys poked at the new babe's nose (her mother's nose) with his thumb in curiosity. Aemond laughed, for he was intrigued by her too– only, it was better contained.
He held her tightly to his chest with his hand over her head as Aegon came to meet his newborn niece– completely sober and bathed, upon Aemond’s threats of murder if he came anywhere near his babe with his foulness. He smiled as he dropped the little dragon toy in her crib, looking over at the exhausted mother who could barely keep her eyes open. Aemond’s one eye followed his brother’s then, and visibly softened at the sight of his wife. Aegon laughed and quipped, “I never thought I’d say this brother, but I suppose you do wear the lovestruck look well.”
He had rocked her in silence as Helaena cooed at her, elated at the thought of becoming an aunt to a niece. This family is in dire need of more women, she had mumbled absentmindedly once. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered and Aemond enthusiastically agreed. 
She is beautiful, and she is his. His own daughter, given to him by his own wife.
In the nights, when he was left alone with the women around whom his entire world now revolved, Aemond let tranquility take him. And it was in moments like these, that he learned to love them both with all that he had– blindly, and unconditionally. 
It was in moments like these, that he learned to believe.
Flowers have come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the sixth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of his little daughter. A little flower, from his flower.
The flowers kept coming to him throughout the many years that followed, and he valued every one of them– for they had all come from her, and they were all a part of her.
His flower. His wife. His very own.
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“I don’t think I’m straight.”
Steve had reached that conclusion exactly ten seconds before saying it out loud. Laying upside down on the couch of his house with his best friend draping her legs on top of him.
“Is that what you were thinking about?” Robin asked, not lifting her eyes from her book.
“Yeah, it just makes sense.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Steve hummed thoughtfully. Did he want to talk about it? Was it important enough? Did it change anything?
“I feel the same,” he said. “I thought being gay would feel different.” For a second, Steve was sure Robin would tell him that was a stupid thing to think.
“Are you gay?” Robin asked instead, because she is Robin. She was able to ask something in a judgemental tone without being judgy.
“I'm not straight.” he repeated.
“Pretty sure there are more than two options.” She explained with a joking tone. It was lucky, she thought, that she found a zine hidden in a library when she visited her aunt in Indianapolis.
“How do I know what I am?”
“I don't know, actually,” she said, putting her book down. “I've never seen what the big deal with men is.” Robin explained, crossing her arms. “That's how I knew.”
“I definitely see the big deal with women,” Steve responded simply.
“What about men?”
“I think I always saw the big deal, I just pretended it did not exist.” Steve explained.
“Oh, sweet old denial.” She teased. “How do you feel about this?”
“I would feel better if I had better taste.” Steve deadpanned, causing Robin to laugh and kick him. He slid out of the sofa dramatically to the floor. “Kicking me while I'm most vulnerable, Buckley? I see your game.”
“I have been bidding my time to find your weak spot, Harrington.” Robin joked lightly, jabbing Steve’s legs with her foot. “You will fall, Steven!”
Steve retaliated by pulling her into the floor.
“Look who's falling now?”
“Whatever,” Robin pushed herself to sit upward, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Steve mimicked her with his back against the coffee table. “Who is the guy?” she asked.
“I don't wanna tell you,” Steve whispered, more out of respect for their tradition than anything else. “You’ll make fun of me.”
“Of course I will,” she whispered back. Steve reached for her hand to intertwine their fingers and she held him without batting an eye. “That’s kinda my job as your soulmate.” Steve chuckled. “I have to make sure whoever it is doesn’t mess up our vibe, you know?” He didn’t.
“I’m sure he won’t."
"Are you really gonna make me guess?" Steve lit up at the suggestion. Before he could speak, Robin continued "I'm not gonna guess, just tell me."
"Are you afraid of getting it wrong and looking like a fool?" He teased.
"It's Eddie." She answered less than a second later.
Steve did not respond, shocked at her quick response.
"Who's the fool now, Steve?" The smile on her face was infectious to Steve, who poker her with his foot.
"How did you do that?"
"By having eyes."
"What do you think?" She closed her eyes and hummed as Steve waited for her response.
"I think he looks at you the same way you look at him."
"I should ask him out."
"I can be your wingman!" She exclaimed.
"Oh, my god, yes!"
"We have to make a plan," Robin yelled. She jumped to her feet, letting go of Steve's hand, and dashed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some paper."
Steve stayed behind, sitting more comfortably on the floor, and removing the magazines they had on the coffee table off.
They made a plan, that ended in more of a disaster which is a story for another time. There is only one thing that is important.
Eddie said yes.
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crimsntwlip · 3 months
Text
it’s you | theodore nott.
pairing: theodore nott x reader
warnings: friends to lovers, reader avoiding theodore, reader status not mentioned, fluff fluff fluff !! kissing, google translated italian
summary: based on this request!
a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy this & happy valentines day lovelies!!!
| posted: 2/13/24 | masterlist |
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y/n and theodore had always been two peas in a pod, ever since they first met on the hogwarts express during their first year. even when they were separated by the sorting hat, theodore being sorted into slytherin while y/n had been sorted into ravenclaw, they both knew they would stick together over the years.
y/n was currently sitting in divination class, your mind distracted as professor trelawney rambled on about interpreting signs and symbols from tea leaves.
it was a week prior to valentine’s day and you still haven’t been asked to be anyone’s valentines. you tried to not let it get into your head, but with everyone else around you getting mingled up, you couldn’t help but yearn to get asked. although there was a rumor going around that theodore had already asked another girl, you hoped it was untrue.
theodore, who was seated next to you, noticed your distracted figure and gently nudged you out of your thoughts. you wiped away your thoughts as you turned to face theodore, who appeared concerned.
you turned away, facing back to the professor as you were ready to brush it off when he leaned closer to your level. he whispered,
“are you okay, bella?”
y/n couldnt help but blush suddenly from how close he had gotten. you cleared your throat, trying to push the blush away, theodore's concern softened into a gentle smile.
“i’m fine, theo,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves in the quiet classroom. theodore's eyes searched yours, seeing the slight unease lingering behind them. he knew you well enough to sense when something was bothering you, even if you tried to hide it.
theodore nodded slightly, respecting your boundaries yet still keeping a watchful eye on you in hopes he would get something out of you at the end of class.
once class came to an end, you quickly pack your things away. you had plans to meet luna in the library for some studying. theodore stood by, watching you pack before he spoke.
“y/n, you know you can talk to me ri-”
“yeah thanks theo, sorry i have to go meet luna.” you quickly shut him down, hurriedly walking out. leaving theodore with a disappointing expression behind as he watch you go.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
when you arrived at the library, luna was already waiting for you at your usual table, perusing through a dusty old book with her signature dreamy expression. as she looked up and noticed your arrival, a smile lit up her face. once you settled in and began to study, luna noticed the distant look on your face and raised an eyebrow in question.
“y/n! what's on your mind? you seem a bit distracted today,” luna asked softly, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
you sighed, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “i just can't shake off this feeling of unease, luna. It's silly, really.” you paused. luna's expression turned sympathetic as she listened intently, offering you a comforting smile.
you continued, “its just.. valentine's day approaching and... well, nothing special planned,” you admitted, feeling a bit vulnerable opening up about your feelings.
as you were talking about your feelings about the upcoming holiday, theodore was making his way towards the library, in hopes he would run into you. as he entered the library he passed through the tall shelves, pausing as he heard your voice.
“and it’s not like i don’t want to get asked- don’t get me wrong but i was just hoping theodore would’ve asked me?”
theodore's heart skipped a beat as he heard his name mentioned by you. he had been hesitant to ask you to be his valentine, unsure if you felt the same way about him. but now, hearing your words filled him with a surge of hope and courage. he quickly grabbed a random book off the shelf, leaning to get a closer listen but still trying to stay hidden.
“i dont know luna-“ you groaned before continuing. “i mean bloody hell its been 6 whole years of this unrequited love! now i feel a bit silly.. and there are rumors going around about how theodore has already asked another girl. maybe i should give up..”
“you shouldn’t feel silly for loving someone,” luna spoke softly, comforting her friend. “plus rumors are just rumors y/n, they might not even be true.” luna offered you a gentle smile before silence hit the air again. not awkward silence but instead comforting silence, you were grateful you had a friend like luna.
theodore's heart skipped a beat once again. how could he have been so blind? as silence filled the air once more, he had forgotten he was even hiding until a second-year student bumped into him, causing him to drop the book he was holding and revealing his hidden spot.
as the sudden sound caught your attention, your head snapped up and you found yourself locking eyes with theo, who appeared startled like a deer caught in headlights
“hello..” theodore breathed out, feeling embarrassed that he was caught. you stood up quickly, “theo! how long have you been there?!”
theodore stood there, sheepish and unsure of how to respond. he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with an excuse. “uh, not long, i just arrived...” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze.
you felt embarrassed. you knew theodore had heard everything. you gulped, hastily gathered your belongings, apologizing to luna, and made your excuses before rushing out of the library. leaving theodore behind once again, watching you go.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
it has been days since the events occurred, and you still cannot bring yourself to face theodore. despite his efforts to talk about what happened, you have been avoiding him, afraid that you may have hurt your relationship.
theodore noticed your attempt at avoiding him. whenever you would see him come around the corner, you would always turn the other direction. if he approached you, you would suddenly remember something urgent you needed to take care of.
theodore couldn't bear the distance that had now grown between the two of you. he missed your company, your laughter, and the comforting bond that you both once had. it pained him to see you avoiding him.
on the day prior to valentines day, you were walking through the hogwarts corridors, trying your best to avoid theodore yet again. he finally caught up to you, his voice was gentle and laced with concern as he called out to you, “y/n, please... can we talk?”
you stopped in your tracks, reluctant but unable to ignore the pleading tone in his voice. you turned to face him, and in that moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the hurt that mirrored your own. taking a deep breath, you finally nodded, signaling your willingness to listen.
theodore took a step closer, his gaze searching yours for any sign of forgiveness or understanding. “i... i heard what you said in the library,” he began, his voice soft yet filled with emotion.
you interrupted him abruptly, assuming he would turn you down. “yes theo, i love you okay!” you said frustratedly, a faint blush crept up on theodores cheeks as you confessed. but before he could respond, you quickly added, "but I understand if it's not something you're interested in. i value our friendship too much to risk i-” cutting you off, he reached out, gently cupping your cheeks as he brought you into a kiss.
as you felt his warm lips pressing against yours, a rush of emotions flooded through you. the shock faded away as you kissed him back, melting into it.
when you finally pulled back, your eyes met theodore's, and you saw relief in his gaze.
“y/n,” theodore whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin affectionately. “you've always been something more to me,” he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. “and i want you to know that those rumors about me asking someone else were completely false. it was always you, y/n. it has always been you.”
as theodore's words sank in, you could feel your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. you had never anticipated that he felt this way about you, and now that he had laid his feelings bare, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness.
he continued, “and i've been wanting to ask you out for a while now, but i was afraid of ruining what we have. but if you're willing to take a chance on me, i’d love nothing more than for you to be mine.”
tears glistened in your eyes as you reached up to hold his hand against your cheek, savoring the warmth of his touch. “theodore,” you whispered, your voice filled with raw emotion, “i never thought you saw me the same way.”
a smile tugged at theodore's lips as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “i've been blind not to see it sooner,” he confessed, his gaze intense and unwavering. “i don't want to waste any more time pretending that we're just friends when we could be so much more.”
with a surge of courage, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss once again.
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kleem-o · 10 months
Text
Choose me her : Gojo x reader
a/n: ok i keep seeing gojo (basically jjk) everywhere and i noticed i haven't written any angst yet so here y'all go <;33
"oh come on Y/N, you're being ridiculous!!"
Were you though? Was it so wrong for you to feel jealous, upset, betrayed when his "girl best friend" was all over him? And he let her be? It has always been like this, way before you and Gojo started dating, he was already "close" with the woman you wished to be would go away. You tried so hard to stop the disgusting green envy, the feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach, the feeling of starless lonely nights. But you just can't. Several times Gojo would tell you it was nothing, several times he said he would always choose you over her. Why should he have to choose in the first place? Why was she an option? You finally had enough earlier this day when you saw her all over your man, hugging his chest while laughing at some stupid joke your boyfriend made, at a little get together you, Gojo, and some of his friends had. You always felt left out. As if you were just some bystander, watching him have the time of his life, without you. But you fought, you fought hard. You tried so many times to get along with everyone, to get along with her. And many times you failed. It was as if there was some barrier you couldn't cross, a special bond that "best friends" had. When you and Gojo finally arrived at your little apartment, you decided to confront him about it.
"Is it so hard to just tell her to know her boundaries- our boundaries?! You know damn well what you and her are doing!"
"What the hell are you talking about?? She's my best friend of course we're close, look baby I know you think there's something more, but there really isn't! You're just overthinkin-"
"Don't you dare Gojo Satoru... Don't turn this on me! Stop acting like I'm the crazy one when you guys are borderline cheating!!" Your vision was starting to blur with tears, years of frustration finally coming out. You felt small, a small voice in your head questioning you was this really something worth fighting about, what if you really are overreacting? But an even bigger voice tells you that enough is enough.
"Okay look, you're just tired okay? We can talk about this tomorro-"
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS TOMORROW, WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS NOW!! I spent YEARS putting up with this Satoru, YEARS!! And you can't even spend a bit of your time to talk about this right now!??"
"Look this isn't getting us anywhere, we're both tired. I'll listen to you tomorrow, let's just" you flinched away from his touch when he tried to pull you to go to the bedroom. He looked shock, only proving that he didn't know how hurt you were, how small you felt, how unimportant you felt. "Do you like her?" You were now crying, your voice shaking, though you try your best to hide how weak you felt right now, you tried your best to preserve what little pride you had. "What the fuck?? How many times do I have to tell you I DON'T. She's just a friend!"
"You're always with her!! And the way she's literally all over you??"
"That's how we've always been! Y/N, I knew her way before I knew you-"
"So what??? That gives her a pass to act like your girlfriend??"
"She's not acting like my girlfriend, god Y/N, we've been together for years, you still don't trust me??"
"Stop gaslighting me!!"
"I'M NOT!! I'm literally just telling you, this. is. insane. We've been through this a million fucking times, and maybe if you just listened, and trusted me, this fight wouldn't happen."
Your eyes widened as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. This is crazy. Every moment that goes by feels like daggers to your heart, every breath you take feels sharp, it feels like you could fall anytime now. "Is it that hard to just listen to me? Is it that hard to respect me?" You wiped the tears falling on your cheeks, you refuse to let him see you like this, you refused to bow, just like how you were doing all these time. Gojo brought his hand to his face as he let out a frustrated sigh.
"You're the one not listening. How am I supposed to avoid her when she's one of my best friends?? Aren't you asking for too much? I love you but I can't be friends with anyone else? Isn't this too much?"
"Friends don't act like that. I bet if someone was acting like that to me, you'd be upset too, but noo I wouldn't dare try to hurt you the way you hurt me." You were starting to shake with frustration? Anger? As your tears continued to fall. He took your arm to try and hug you "Come on Y/N, we can talk about this in the morning"
"friends don't act like that, why don't you choose her as your girlfriend instead"
"Yeah, WELL MAYBE I WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER OFF WITH HER THAN YOU"
Gojo shouted as his patience ran out, feeling nothing but frustration, why couldn't you get it? He loved you not her. Did you not trust him? But just as quickly as those words left his mouth, he realized how contradicting it was. Gojo felt nauseous as panic made his heart feel like it was running a marathon. Regret was evident in his eyes, while resolution was evident in yours. You had enough. The room was silent for what felt like an eternity, none of you moved, it felt like something was gonna swallow you both whole if you moved, like nothing could ever fix the damage done. You felt empty, relieved in a weird way, now you know how he really felt. The relief of your paranoia being justified outweighed the pain of being disregarded. But Gojo was the complete opposite, he's so scared. He couldn't lose you, he really did love you, so so much. He knew he fucked up but he'd do anything to fix it, he'd even stop talking to his girl best friend, even block any girl for you. He had to fix this. "Baby-"Just as he was about to reach out to you, you quickly left the apartment. Just like that. No words, no goodbyes, just shattered feelings but a head held high, you refuse to be stepped on any longer.
As you exited the apartment, Gojo was left all alone, and the apartment filled with loving memories of you and him felt suffocating. And maybe, for the first time in a poetic fucked up way, he knew how you felt, small.
Part 2 here
a/n: could y'all tell this was a bit from experience? lol
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ncttytrack · 4 months
Text
Sinful - s.j (m)
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It’s not long before he comes all over himself, and the sight of him makes you bite your lip to not let out any sound. It’s then the reality hits you, you just watched Jake Sim jerk off infront of his computer, and he has no idea.
Summary: Your church counselor , Jake Sim, makes you feel stuff you never felt before. Are you strong enough to resist the temptation or will you let the sin of lust take over you?
Genre: SMUT, Churchboy!Jake x reader
Words: 3k+
Warnings: Agegap (Reader is 19 and Jake is 22), cry kink, creampie, slapping, chocking, slut shaming, Dom!Jake, Sub!Reader
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆
You lean against the bus window, looking out at all the trees passing before you. It’s in the middle of summer, and your mom decided to pack your bags and forcefully send you away to a church camp for kids your age. You are nineteen years old, old enough to make your own decisions, but not according to your mom, using the argument that she is your parent and that you should respect her. What about her respecting you? At least you weren’t going to this camp with strangers, the others were a part of your Sunday church group that you attended to church with every week. The bus is completely cramped, and out of curiosity, you look around only to get eye contact with one of your church concealers, Jake. He smiles when he sees you looking at him, which makes you quickly look away.
Jake was not your average church-boy, you knew that. He was hot, super hot. And not to forget to mention, he was young too, almost too young - only being 22 years old. He was older than you but still, did the hot and young church concealer have to come on the trip surrounded by girls checking him out every second? Not that you were any different. It was hard to ignore those soft plump lips, his expressive eyes and his fluffy black hair. You have always imagined how it would feel to ram your fingers through it. You looked back at him again to get another peak. Today he is wearing a white sleeveless shirt, making his muscular arms visible for you to gawk at. Your eyes follow down his arms to his hands. His hands are slender and long and he was always wearing stacks of silver rings. You imagine how it would feel if the cold metal rings made contact with your warm body.
It’s then his hand waves at you, making your eyes widen and look up at Jake's face. He looks at you with an amused expression. “Hm?” Your breath hitches and you look away again. You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment. Why did you have to stare at him like that?
You finally arrived at the camp, that bus ride took forever. You walk out of the bus, trying to drag your heavy backpack behind you. All of a sudden, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up, to see Jake standing beside you. “Um, did you want something? You looked at me a few times on the bus" He says and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. Coward. You only looked at him two times, what does he mean by ‘a few’? You look down on your feet, not being able to hold eye contact with him for more than three seconds. As a nervous reaction, you fiddle with the straps on your backpack. Not being able to stay silent forever, you finally answer him, occasionally being able to look into his eyes. “Ah, no it’s fine, I’m sorry for looking at you.” He looks at you up and down, still holding your shoulder. “No prob, just let me know if you need something m’kay?” He says, giving your shoulder a small squeeze, before walking away to talk to another counselor. It’s amusing that he acts so polite, as if the rumors about him weren't the nastiest you have ever heard. Apparently he sleeps around a lot, including with girls in your sunday-group. And according to a reliable source, or in other words, a girl you heard talking to her friend, he was "super big". Whatever that means. 
Because of your strict religious family, sex was not a part of your everyday life. You kissed a guy once, on this camp when you were seventeen, and you still remember him trying to grope you under your clothes, before walking away when you pushed him away from you. You have never watched porn, let alone masturbated, your mother making sure that your hands should always be over the duvet when sleeping. Probably so she would know if you did something. You didn’t want to risk your parents getting disappointed in you. 
It’s the next day, and you are walking from the camp's library back to the room you are sharing with three others. It’s then something in the counselor's room catches your eyes. It’s Jake, his head is tilted back, leaning towards his chair in front of the camp's (only) computer. The room has two big glass windows facing the hallway, and because the curtains aren’t down, you see everything inside.
His face looks weird, it’s an expression you had never seen before. His mouth is open, and his eyebrows are furrowed and it almost looks like he is in pain. What if he is hurt? Should you go in and help him? You are about to open the door, before suddenly stopping yourself. He seems to be watching something? You try to look closer, leaning in as much as you can on the window. It’s then you what he is watching.
It’s two people, pleasuring themselves in front of a camera. He's watching porn! You step back and your hand covers your mouth to cover the sound you let out. That’s why it looks like he is in pain, he is pleasuring himself. You try to look away, but the sight in front of you is too intriguing since you had never seen something like it before. You gain enough courage to look down at the ‘thing’ he is touching.
His hand is pumping his cock, and it’s leaking preecum. You suddenly begin to feel weird between your thighs, making you squeeze your thighs together to numb the feeling. The more you watch him get closer and closer, the more the pleasure grows inside your lower stomach. It’s not long before he comes all over himself, and the sight of him makes you bite your lip to not let out any sound. It’s then the reality hits you, you just watched Jake Sim jerk off infront of his computer, and he has no idea. Before he catches you, you run away back to your room and lock the door. 
You sit down on the wooden stump in front of the fireplace. Everyone attending the camp is outside around the fireplace, forcefully listening to the counselors singing songs about Jesus and heaven. Jake suddenly appears besides you, switching places with another counselor, blaming it on the smoke coming from the fireplace. You still haven’t forgotten what you saw earlier, and the feeling you got from watching him between your thighs never left. “It’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Jake says and looks at you. How could he look at you like this as if he doesn't know what he was doing earlier in his room the same day. Your lack of response makes Jake put his hands on your thigh, making you gasp at the sudden feeling of his fingers making contact with your inner thigh. What if someone sees him? “Hm?” He looks at you and raises his eyebrows waiting for your response. You look up at him, his hands still on your thigh. His eyes are beautiful, making you lose your breath for a second before giving him an answer. “Yes…it is ”you say, and look away from him. He looks away from you and licks his bottom lip. You thought that he would leave your thigh alone after you responded, but it’s still on you. It’s sliding up and down your thigh, getting higher by every second. The arousal between your legs is getting too much for you to bear, and suddenly it’s enough. It begins to hurt, and you need to do something about it. You can’t wait for the feeling to die down, because it won't if you don’t make it go away. Whether you like it or not you need to touch yourself. To Jake's surprise you stand up abruptly, “Excuse me…”, you say as you walk away as quickly as you can to your room. 
You try to open your door, but to your disadvantage it’s looked. Urgh. You forget that the counselors lock the rooms to stop us from skipping the campfire evenings. You look out of the window at the church only a meter away from the camp. The guilt inside of you increases as you make your way to the only place you know would give you privacy. You hurry your way to open the big heavy door of the church, walk down the narthex and sit on the first row. Too bad that this church doesn't have a confession booth, though otherwise you could've hid in there to act out your sins.
You button up your pants quickly to get it over with, and lean back on the wooden bench. The image of Jake Sim enters your brain, but the moment you touch your core outside of your panties you stop. You have never masturbated before, and you definitely don’t know what to do. You look at the big Jesus sculpture by the altar, and it feels like he is staring at you. You close your eyes out of guilt and begin to cry. You are so frustrated, and the guilt inside your chest makes you want to disappear. It’s then you feel a hand on the top of your hair, patting it. 
You didn't notice anyone walking into the church, so the sudden touch makes you open your eyes, only to meet Jake's gaze. You let out a small scream and cover yourself with your arms. He looks at you with pleading eyes, before crouching down so he is eye level with you. His hand leaves the top of your head, and he cups your cheeks with both of his hands. His lips form into a teasing pout. “Aw baby, why are your pants down? And why are you crying?” You look at him with tears in your eyes. Your whole body hurts and you have no idea what to do with it. “Jake, please, it hurts”. He pokes the inside of his cheeks with his tongue, and looks at you trying to act disappointed. His hands leave your cheeks and he stands up, looking down at you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and tilts his head to the side, trying to look intimidating. It’s working. Your heart sinks.
“I don’t know baby, what would god say if he saw you like this in his holy temple.” You are desperate, so desperate that you kneel down infront of him, clapping your hands together in front of him, begging. You look up at him “Please Jake, please help me and make this feeling disappear. It hurts, it hurts so much. I don’t know what to do.” He looks down at you pleading, and sighs. He brings up his finger and points at the bench behind you, signaling you to sit on it. You do so, standing up from your kneeling position. Your knees are sore from the hard contact of the church floor, and the pain makes you limp to the bench. He sits down beside you, grabs your shoulders and turns you so you face him. 
You part your lips and look at him, and his eyes look at your lips. You get ready to kiss him, when one of his hands suddenly caresses your chin softly, before pushing you down on your stomach on his lap. You let out a yelp, and your hands try to cover your bare ass from Jake's sight. He slaps your hands away, and grabs your wrists so you are unable to push him away. His hand suddenly touches your ass rubbing it up and down. You begin to whine at his touch, he is such a tease. “Tsk, tsk, do you really think you deserve my help without getting some sort of punishment for your actions?”. He doesn’t let you answer, before his hand suddenly slaps your ass hard. You let out a gasb and your back arch, getting wetter by his harsh treatment. “Please-” He slaps you one more time, and then once more right after - harder this time, leaving a big red mark on your skin. You begin to cry again because of the pain, and how wet you are from it. “Shh, baby, you are doing so good for me, ok?” He says and massages the cheek he just slapped. He pushes you away from his lap, moving back so he appears behind you, you are still laying on your stomach on the bench. You look back at Jake, the look on your face is enough for him to know what you want. He leans down over your back, and his face is right by yours. “What do you want me to do baby, use your words” 
You can feel his soft breaths against your neck, and you begin to tremble. “I want you to take care of me Jake”. He leans back away from you, standing on his knees on the hard bench. “Do you want Jake to take care of you, to make the ache go away?” He says as his hands come in contact with inner thighs, pushing you up so your ass comes in contact with his lower stomach. He grabs the side of your panties, slowly dragging them down, making your juices slide down your inner thigh. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, lightly touching it with his fingers to feel you, making you let out a breathy moan.
“You are so wet already, was that from the slapping? You dirty slut, what would god say if he saw you?”. His finger slides through your folds, coating his finger with your juices. He puts his finger into his mouth, tasting you. “You want Jakey to touch you, baby?”. You look back at him and whine, not being able to speak. He chuckles at your expression and slides two fingers into you. You let out a loud moan at the unusual feeling. Automatically you start to grind down on his fingers, wanting to feel more of him. He slaps you making you yelp. “Eager now are we? You are so dirty.” The feeling of his fingers, combinated with his harsh words is making you feel more pleasure. 
While still pumping his fingers in and out of you he unbuttons his pants with his other hand and lets his hard cock out, slapping it on your ass. You gasp, and look back, seeing it for the second time. He was huge, definitely too huge for you to handle when it your first time taking cock. “Are you a virgin?” He says, and you nod your head, biting your lip. He pulls his fingers out of you, slaps your pussy, and brings his cock close to your hole. He teases your already sore pussy with his hard cock, before pushing it into you. Your moan could be heard throughout the whole church, making Jake grab your neck from behind, so your back leans on his chest. While he slowley begins to fuck into your tight hole, he takes over your mouth with his to muffle your loud moans. He kisses you softly, roaming your mouth with his tongue, while fucking you gently. He stops kissing you, and brings up his hand to your mouth demanding you to suck on it. You let his finger into your mouth, lubricating it with your saliva. He pulls his finger out of your mouth, and brings it up under your shirt to your nipple.
He plays with your hard nipple before pinching it harshly making you let out a scream. His hands leave your breast, and place it on your waist. His thrusts are still slow, and you want it faster, deeper, harder. “Please Jakey”. The hold on your neck gets tighter, making it harder for you to breathe. “What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want, like the good girl I know you are, or I won't give it to you.” You let out a shaky breath and look up at the church painting in front of you. The painting makes you cry, you can’t believe you would let someone like Jake Sim to take over your body in such a holy place like this. Your tears fall down your cheeks and make contact with Jake's hand. “I want you to fuck me harder Jake, to use me until there is no sin left for me to commit”. 
As Jake begins to fasten his pase, going in and out of your drenched core, you continue to cry. Getting close, Jake leans down into your neck to muffle his moans, and you feel the sweat from his forehead sliding down your chest making your stomach wet. The closer you get, the faster he fucks into you, the deeper he fucks is cock into you. It’s not long before he comes into you, making you come as well, filling you up completely. You can feel his cum leaking out of your pussy and it's warm and sticky. He slides his cock out of you and wraps his arms around your body, as he kisses your neck, being extra careful to not leave a bruise. His hand grabs your chin softly and makes you look up at him. Your mascara is on your cheek from all the crying, and he uses his thumb to make the black smudge go away. “You know what to do baby” He says and looks down on your hands before looking at the holy painting on the wall in front of you. 
You bring your hands in front of you and begin to pray, still looking at Jake. 
“Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love according to Your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.” 
But you know that is no use, and Jake knows this as well. He grabs one of your praying hands and brings it up to him mouth, kissing it. No matter how much you pray, you don't belong to Christ anymore.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆
Finally wrote a Jake fic 🤞 Hope you liked it!
Xoxo 💋
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daddy-dotcom · 4 months
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Bet on Me
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Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader
Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.
Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.
Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?
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This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me. 
Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling. 
"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably. 
I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away. 
"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way." 
I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him. 
"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs. 
"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."
"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled. 
"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar. 
------------
"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness. 
"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife." 
"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"
"It's kind of my job." 
"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?" 
"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."
"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"
“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 
Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"
"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus" 
"Ah so you're a local too?"
“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question. 
“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?” 
“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.” 
I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way. 
“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.” 
“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.” 
My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes. 
“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh. 
I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”
“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.
“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked, 
“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes. 
“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent. 
“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.” 
“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?” 
At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator. 
———
"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once." 
"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle. 
"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before. 
"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence. 
"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?" 
I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him. 
"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes. 
"Spencer, it's okay, I want to." 
He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth. 
"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor. 
"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."
I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch. 
"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either. 
“I-I don’t have a-," 
“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.” 
I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length. 
“Oh god, Spencer.” 
I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock. 
“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.” 
It’s always the skinny, shy guys.
“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care. 
“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.” 
His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.
“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.
“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.” 
“I’m all yours Spencer.” 
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Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties
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joonipertree · 11 months
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Gang Leader Girlfriend Things™
Tags: Mikey x Fem!reader, Fluff, crack, no angst, he's only soft for you <3, love of his life
You know, I think the first rule of joining a gang should be 'don't piss off the leader'. Like, you wanna fight people who can whoop your ass? Go for it, that takes courage and respect. But you join a gang like Toman with 'Invincible Mikey' as the head, the one thing you should probably not do is make him mad.
(Nobody is stupid enough to do that though, much less Toman.)
Mikey personally didn't fight the weak, finds no joy in something that isn't a challenge. Two highschoolers that got recruited by Mitchy's crew? He could tell they were nothing from the back of their babbling heads.
"My god, there's no way a girl like that is here. She's so fucking hot."
"What's a girl even doing in a gang? There's no way she fights."
Mikey's eye twitched. Not only are you most definitely in Toman, with a gang jacket and everything (You had your own but you ended up wearing his most of the time, pretty in what's his.) One of Toman's strongest was Senju, someone who would kick their ass too.
"Do you think she's single?"
"She is not." Mikey drawled, eyes dead and head tilted. Draken came behind him, wondering why his captain was just standing there. Mikey was always friendly with new members but very evidently, those two were an exception.
"What a bummer. She could've been mine."
Draken wanted to laugh so badly but Mikey's hand was warning him into silence before he could.
Mikey couldn't see the dude's face but knew that he was too ugly for you. You weren't into pathetic fucks. And the only person Mikey was pathetic for, was you.
A lot of gang members' eyes were on them now, ready to bow to their captain but stopping when Draken raised his palm. They could tell something was off, looking at the two kids who just didn't bother turning. The aura around Mikey was practically tangible though, suffocating to anyone who took notice.
Yamagishi staggered towards his friends, ready to point out the very dangerous threat behind them. Of course, he was the one who recruited them. If he wasn't Takemitchy's friend, Mikey would've added him to his blacklist. Mikey's finger against his lip kept Yamagishi from saying anything. Their fates were sealed already.
"Man, I could probably take her boyfriend on. Easy win and I get her."
Draken choked, Yamagishi wanted to die, the few people who were close enough to listen stepped away. Mikey still didn't say anything, because the moment he was waiting for finally happened.
Chifuyu had let you know of the arrival with a nod of his head, pausing in his rant about a manga you guys had been reading. You saw Draken's head first, eyes lowering, knowing that Mikey would always fall close. And there he was, his blond ponytail the only thing you could see. Your heart filled up like it always did because fuck, you wanted to consume him in your love. His eyes peaked out and your smile stretched your cheeks.
You walked as if on auto pilot, feet having a pep in them as you did. He stepped out in full view and you squealed at his gentle eyes and outstretched arms. You practically ran to him, you missed him and missed him and missed him.
Your shoulder grazed someone's as you zoomed past and launched yourself into Manjiro's warm embrace. Strong arms encircled you immediately, his cheek squishing against yours. And before you knew it, your feet were off the ground as he twirled you around. Unabashed laughter left your lips, hanging onto him and letting his warm and wet kisses pepper your face. The swooping in your chest was welcomed, clinging to the boy you've loved for years. Your precious----
"Hi, Jiro~" You crooned, eyes open to catch his reddened cheeks and sparkling eyes.
He put your feet on the ground and pulled you close by the waist, noses touching each other's.
"Hi, baby." He said in a hushed voice.
You gave his cheek a peck, knowing one on the lips would result in him not getting off of you. There was supposed to be a meeting, so you decided to have him later. Being a gang leader's girlfriend was hard work.
"Did you have a good day?" You asked, knowing he woke up an hour ago, barely in the realm to text you a 'good morning, honey' ('Morning' in Mikey's realm was 1pm).
"Mhm." Mikey hummed, giving your cheek a kiss too. You relished in it.
"Where are you going?" Draken's voice came gruffly and you saw the tall man with his hands on two members' shoulders.
Your boyfriend's gaze fell on them, hardened and cold. It made you shiver, his arms tightening around you when you did. It didn't scare you, he looked hot but it never meant anything good.
You blinked at the two boys, confused and just now noticing the complete silence and the eyes of everyone on you.
I mean, you were a spectacle whenever Jiro was involved but weren't they used to it by now?
"You guys have really bad awareness if you didn't notice me even when I spoke up. I don't know if we want that in our gang." Mikey's words were sweet but dripping in venom, a grin to hide his clear rage.
"I'm so so sorry, boss! We didn't know she was yours, I swear!!" Dude no 1 got on his knees immediately, more so because his legs gave out.
"It's our first day, please have mercy." Dude no 2 shouted, bowing till his head met the floor.
Oh, you thought, they were actual idiots.
Seeing people bow and beg at your boyfriend was always surreal. You knew he had repertoire and respect because of years of being a gang leader. Personally, you never really understood gang things tm. But you knew your Mikey could kick ass and people looked up to him, so you always enjoyed the times he did gang leader things tm cuz it was hot.
"Yamagishi, you recruited them so you have responsibility. Have anything to add?" Mikey asked the frozen boy, who probably stopped breathing a long time ago.
"Uh, it was Takemitchy's idea?" The boy said, knowing who Mikey's kryptonite was.
"You're the one who asked me. Don't try to get me killed along with them!" The acting president hollered.
Mikey turned to his best friend, smile still plastered on his face. If Takemitchy didn't have the trauma to back up his biggest endeavour, he would be worried that the dark impulse would've possessed him from that interaction alone.
"Mitchy, normally I would let the head captain step in for any decision made about their division. But since they directly challenged me, we have to deal with it like all gangs do, right?"
"We didn't....we didn't know, promise!" Dude no 2 peeped out.
"Hmm, but wasn't it you who said that you could take her boyfriend on? It'd be an easy win? There's enough people who witnessed that."
"Oh, Lord Almighty." Takemitchy murmured, "nothing can save them now."
"Not even an hour in and they're going to die." Another murmur from the crowd. (It was Ran)
"I never said that, I am not a part of this." Dude no 1 threw his friend under the bus immediately. It was understandable.
"'She could've been mine,'" Mikey practically sang, taking off his jacket, "is what you said, right?"
"No I couldn't," you spoke absentmindedly, only looking at your boyfriend cuz you'd lost interest in the morons, "you're too ugly for me."
It was a blow that hit almost as hard as the kick they were about to receive. Mikey let out an affectionate snort as he covered your head with his jacket. The heavy material blocking your peripheral as he left your side within a second. A sick crack brandished the air, followed by two thuds.
"Welp, that fight didn't last. How boring, wanted to show off." Mikey sounded bored, the asphalt crunching under his slippers as he walked back.
"Are they--" Takemitchy's panicked pitch followed, a very common tone whenever Mikey was involved.
"Breathing." Draken called out, giving them a light kick on the side to check.
"Takemitchy, your crew is banned from recruiting." Their leader yelled back with his head only half turned, a flurry of 'yes sir!'s came.
"Thank you for holding onto my jacket, baby." Mikey whispered as he took the jacket off your head and draped it on his shoulders. His eyes were back to being kind and gentle, warm hand cupping your face in gratitude. You melted into him, eyes closing. He left a kiss on your forehead, keeping you close.
"Ah, I'm hungry," he whined, "let's go get mcdonald's. I didn't eat breakfast."
"You didn't?" You asked as he interwined your fingers together and tugged.
"I had cereal but that barely counts." Mikey started chattering on, waving a hand to dismiss the meeting that never began.
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Note
Getting fucked by ghostface!Billy in an alley on your way back from Tatum’s. He tried to scare you and pull this little stunt, but you figure out it was him
More Billy, YES (this is 1.5k, enjoy)
Please read the warnings before reading this one, some of the content might make you uncomfortable or be triggering for you
Warnings: 18+, dub-con, semi-public sex, p + v, non-protected sex, creampie,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Dewey to drive you home? He should be there at ten,’’ Tatum asked again as you were getting ready to leave. ‘’The psychos are out at this hour...’’ 
You declined her offer. ‘’I can’t. My parents will have my head if I'm not home before curfew.’’ You grabbed your backpack and opened the door. ‘’See you tomorrow!’’ You waved at her before stepping out and closing the door. 
The chill autumn air brushing your face and the fallen leaves swished on the ground around you as you walked down the Rileys’ driveway and took the sidewalk. You didn’t particularly enjoy walking alone at night — no women did, honestly —, but Tatum’s house was only a few blocks from yours. 
On the way, you admired all the carved pumpkins out on the porches and other halloween decorations, making you miss when you were kids. Halloween was still fun as a teenager, but no parties could beat trick-or-treating and exchanging candies with your friends. 
As you turned on Elm street, a growing unease pricked at your senses. Someone was following you. Your steps became quicker, but not quick enough that your change of pace would alert the person behind you. The last thing you wanted was to let him know that you knew he was following you. He could take a run after you and it would be done for you.
You thought of going back to Tatum’s, maybe Dewey was home from work, but you were almost home. Instead, you took the shortcut to your house and turned in an alley, thinking you could kick a trash can at your pursuer's feet in case he tried anything, but a shadow loomed over you. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a gloved hand swiftly clamped over your mouth, stifling the scream that tried to escape.
Fear pulsed within you, your mind racing to comprehend the situation. You struggled against the grip, your instincts kicking in as you fought to break free. The scent of leather filled your nostrils as you twisted and wriggled, attempting to loosen the stranger's hold.
A distorted voice pierced the air, its chilling words sending a shiver down your spine. ‘’Don’t you know walking home by yourself at night is a danger-magnet? Especially with a tight little skirt like yours,’’ he said as the hand that wasn’t over your mouth slid up your thigh, making your heart race in fear of what was going to happen. 
A sickening feeling twisted in your stomach. Maybe you should have waited for Dewey to drive you home. Your parents would have been mad for not respecting your curfew, but at least you would have been safe. 
You tried to scream again, and fight back, but the stranger only laughed at your attempts. 
‘’You’re not gonna escape me, babydoll,’’ the distorted voice laughed, tightening their grip and pressing your front against the brick wall of a building. ‘’If you try, I’ll gut you like a fish.’’ Something cool touched your leg and tears pricked in your eyes. 
A knife. 
Tatum was right about psychos being out at this hour…
You turned your head slightly, trying to see who was holding you, but all you saw was a strange halloween white mask with a black hood. 
‘’Have you ever been told how good your ass looked in that skirt? Bet your boyfriend likes to take you from behind, uh?’’ The hand that was on your thigh moved up, pulling your skirt and lifting it up, making your skin crawl. 
The night air hit your bare ass, completely exposed to the masked stranger, and you pressed your thighs together. You doubted it would stop the man from doing anything, but you could at least try. 
‘’Mmh, what a nice ass,’’ he pointed out, smacking his hand on your ass-cheek, the sound resonating in the alley, and grabbing it. You squeaked at the impact. ‘’I can’t wait to feel it against me as I pound in your tight pussy.’’
Your stomach churned. Your night was turning into a nightmare. 
‘’Now, I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, but if you dare scream…’’ he trailed with a threat.
You nodded, having no other choice. He was the one with the knife.
‘’Spread those legs, hands on the wall,’’ he ordered, the distorted voice glitching a little, causing you to hear the man’s real voice. It sounded familiar, like you had heard it before, but a lot of men had similar voices. 
Shaking that thought, you obeyed and parted your legs, holding a hiss when pressing your hands against the rough brick.   
‘’Now what?’’ you spat, looking over your shoulder.  
The stranger chuckled, then pushed himself up against the curve of your ass, letting you feel his erection through his clothes, the hardness and heat radiating from his body admittedly kind of hot. ‘’Now I'm gonna stick it in you and rearrange your insides, you dumb fucking bitch.’’
You gasped at his words, arousal leaking through your panties. 
A car drove by on the other end of the alley, making the both of you go completely still. Minutes ago, you would have been relieved that a car was driving by. Not anymore. A sick and twisted part of you wanted the masked stranger to fuck you against that wall. 
Once the car was out of earshot, the masked man another grope of your ass, then pulled aside your underwear, running a gloved hand over your folds and discovering your little secret. 
‘’Is this…turning you on?’’ 
You kept quiet, disgusted and ashamed of yourself. 
He laughed, keeping going with the teasing by pressing a finger inside you, making you gasp as you automatically clamped around it. ‘’It is turning you on.’’ You heard the smirk in his voice. ‘’Dirty little slut.’’ 
You whined at his words, his finger moving in and out, but not nearly enough. ‘’Please,’’ you surprised yourself by saying, chasing his finger. ‘’I need more.’’ 
If anyone were to see you right now, you would be mortified. Not only were you getting sexually assaulted by a masked stranger in an alley, but you were enjoying it. It was sick.
Much too soon, he removed his finger, making you whine in protest. You turned your head to glance at him, but his head was down and you couldn’t see much. 
‘’Think you can handle my cock in you? Your slutty little cunt is weeping around my finger,’’ he said as he reached beneath his robe, fighting with his belt buckle and zipper to free himself. 
Your stomach bubbled with excitement, your teeth catching your bottom lip when you felt his hard cock pressing against your entrance. You pushed back against him, the hard press of his tip prodding at you, his pre-cum mixing with your leaking arousal. 
Your jaw dropped as you felt his cock part your folds, pushing himself all the way inside before stilling for a few seconds. Fuck. His dick was filling you so good. He gave a first snap of hips and a moan escaped from your lips, louder than you were expecting. 
Behind you, the masked man stopped moving, clamping a hand over your mouth as he hissed in your ear. ‘’Keep quiet or I’ll stop playing with your cute little cunt. Can't get caught, can we?’’ he warned, forgetting to use the voice distorter and giving himself away. 
‘’Billy Loomis, you sick fu—’’ 
Your words were cut off as his thick cock plunged back into you, making you moan instead. 
Billy laughed. ‘’Surprise, babydoll.’’ He gripped your hip firmly with one hand, the second coming around your throat while he was pounding in you from behind, stars flying around in your vision as the pleasure filled your whole body, explicit groans and muffled moans filling the dark alley.
‘’Always so fucking tight,’’ he grunted, getting really hot under the mask. Halloween costumes were not made to be worn during sex. 
You tried your best to brace yourself, both hands flat on the brick wall as Billy kept pistoning into you, your legs were shaking with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. ‘’Ahh, yes, just like that!’’ 
After he emptied himself and rode the waves of your respective pleasure, Billy slipped out from you, a white string of hot cum connecting you to him. He smirked under the mask, loving to watching himself leak from your abused pussy and drip out and down your leg. 
‘’You’re insane,’’ you said, turning around to face your boyfriend, your wrinkled skirt still bunched up at your waist. 
Laughing, Billy pulled the mask off his face, his lips curved into a wicked grin. ‘’The best people are.’’ 
You both fixed yourself in silence, having enough played with public indecency for tonight. As thrilling and exciting as this had been, you didn’t want an actual stranger to see you exposed like that.  
‘’How did you know I just left Tatum’s?’’ 
‘’Stu,’’ he explained. ‘’Tatum called him saying you just left, so I put on that sweet little costume and decided to surprise you. Did you like it?’’ 
You grabbed the front of the black robe and kissed him in response.
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rosepascal · 6 months
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Lacy || Joel Miller x Reader
summary: Joel has a new girlfriend and it's eating you alive inside, especially when she's so perfect.
warnings: angst to fluff, happy ending!! reader gets minorly injured (cuts hand on accident), jealousy, bad feelings, self deprecation kinda, implied something happened to make reader not want to go on patrols anymore but nothing specific.
a/n: heres my jealousy fic loosely based on Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo. I low key love these kinda fics so I hope I did the trope justice
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Perfect Perfect Perfect. She’s just so. Fucking perfect. Your body moves on auto pilot as your brain spirals into the depths of hatred and loathing.
All because of Joel’s new girlfriend.
Your mind is torn between raging jealousy and embarrassment. You and Joel were nothing. Just friends. You worked odd jobs in Jackson and would cross paths with Joel often. He wasn’t very friendly at first but soon enough you managed to break down his initial suspicion.
You became closer than most. At least you thought you were. You’d only seen him joke and smile around Ellie so when he laughed at one of your jokes you felt your stomach flip. He brought you little trinkets he found on patrols too. Small things, things that most people wouldn’t care about but Joel brought them to you so of course you cherished them like they were gold.
Then she came to town.
It was embarrassing how much you let your mind turn to jealousy and resentment. Lacy was beautiful, strong, and the nicest fucking person in town. She’s sweet and helpful and so smart. She’s everything you feel like you’re not. So why wouldn’t Joel be attracted to her? They’re patrol partners too. You see them every morning and come back every afternoon.
You don’t go on patrol. Not anymore. Joel knew that, he never asked and you never told him. He doesn’t care though. You pull your weight just as much as everyone and Joel respects that. Some people don’t. So to have Joel tell you he doesn’t care what you do, it always makes you happy. Still you wonder if he’d like you if you did go on patrol. If you could spend hours with him outside the walls, just the two of you. Maybe he’d compliment your shots or offer his jacket to keep you warm. Like he does for her.
You saw them once coming back inside the gates. His jacket was draped across her shoulders and your heart cracked. You bet it was romantic too. He noticed she was cold and so he happily gave her his jacket. How cute. You walked away from them and buried yourself into kitchen work. Helping stock and prep for dinner. Your brain is still thinking of her.
The worst part is she isn’t someone you can't even hate. She’s only been kind to you. Always offering her help to anyone who needs it. Her smile is so perfect and she makes everyone happy. Especially Joel. Joel always seems to be talking with her which is a big deal for the man who only communicated in noises the first time you met. For fucks sakes she even bakes cookies in her spare time.
You try to avoid seeing them but somehow it’s like they always pop up where you are. Tonight they’re patrons at the bar where you’re serving as bartender for the night.
“Hi there darlin’” Joel’s voice makes your heartbeat a little faster but you see Lacy standing right beside him.
“Whiskey on the rocks, right?” You blurt out without thinking. He looks surprised at first but nods.
“One for me too please.” Lacy asks nicely. You give her a tight smile and nod silently. It doesn’t take long to pour their drinks and Joel takes them both, gesturing to her to go sit.
“Thank you,” He says with a small smile.
“Anytime.” Though other people come and go, you can’t help but keep your eyes on them. Every time they laughed or smiled or got closer, it made your blood boil. You were jealous, you hated this feeling. You hated feeling the anger that burned inside of you. You hated how much you hated her. It made you sick but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. It’s like you secretly wanted to watch your whole world burn. You watch as she says something and Joel leans in closer, his lips barely ghosting her ear as he rests his arm on the booth behind her. The chatter of the bar stops as the sound of a glass shattering. It’s only when everyone’s eyes land on you do you realize you made the noise. The wine glass in your hand is now in pieces on the counter and your hand is covered in small cuts from the glass. You could feel Joel’s piercing gaze on you as someone moves to help.
“I’m okay,” You say quickly, grabbing a rag and putting it around your hand.
“I uh, I’ll be back.” You mutter, humiliation growing as you shrink under the looks of everyone. You rush out the back door. Sighing you put your head down on your knees as you slide down the wall. Your jealousy got the best of you and it feels so ugly. You slowly pick the glass out of your hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine.” You look up and your eyes widen. There stands Lacy, the last person you expected to see.
“Are you sure? I can go get you some gauze.”
“I said I’m fine.” You snap. She takes a step back and you immediately feel the guilt.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I…I’m sorry.” You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping she leaves you alone so you can wallow in your misery.
“It’s okay,” She says gently. Lacy walks closer to you and you look up at her.
“I can’t help but feel like we’ve never really gotten along and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I did something to upset you.” Her words are so genuine that it makes you sick. She’s just so perfect and nice and it makes you feel awful.
“No no, you did nothing wrong. I promise. It’s all me.” She looks down next to you and you offer her to sit.
“I’m sorry if I came off cold, you’re really nice and It’s something to do with me.” You explain.
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d really like to get to know you better if you want. Joel talks about you all the time.” She says. That catches your attention.
“He does?” You ask. She giggles and nods her head.
“Don’t tell him I told you but he really likes you, he just won’t admit it.” You can’t believe what she’s saying. It doesn’t make sense. He's so happy with her, and spends time with her. They’re perfect for each other.
“What? I thought you two were dating.” You look shocked as she shakes her head.
“We’re not. Me and Joel were both from the Boston QZ, I helped him out from time to time so we were kind of friends.” You guess that explains why he warmed up to her so fast but still.
“He won’t admit it to me but I know he likes you. He always wonders what you’re doing in town that day and when we go on supply runs he tries to subtly ask about things for you but he’s not very subtle.” She says, smiling as she remembers the shitty excuses Joel would make for picking up the tattered journal. He told her about you, that you used to keep one before the outbreak and you missed it. 
“I don’t know, I haven’t really seen him much lately…” You know it's partially your fault for avoiding him but he didn’t really make much effort to see you either.
“I told him to talk to you but he started to get nervous.” She says while rolling her eyes.
“Joel nervous?” You ask in disbelief.
“I know! He totally denied it when I asked. Said he doesn’t get nervous in that crabby voice he does.” She says while laughing.
“Oh my god he really does do that voice doesn’t he. Especially when he’s trying to reprimand Ellie.” You say while laughing with her.
“And she never listens.” Lacy adds. It feels nice to laugh with her. Though now you feel silly for feeling so jealous.
“I think I owe you an apology Lacy, the truth is I was jealous of you. You’re just, so amazing and cool and nice. I thought you were perfect for Joel and I just, I wanted to be perfect for Joel.” You admit sheepishly. "I shouldn't have avoided you the way I did."
“Thank you for the apology and it's okay. As for Joel, you are perfect for him.” She hugs you and it takes you a moment before you hug her back.
“Everythin’ alright?” Joel’s voice makes you jump.
He’s come to check on the two of you. The butterflies you felt before come back in full force as you see him standing there. His eyes darting to your cut up hand.
“You should really get that fixed up.” He kneels down in front of you and checks your hand over. Lacy gets up and winks at you.
“I’ll leave you to it Joel,” She nudges him and he grumbles about something. She smiles and gives you a thumbs up before disappearing back inside.
Even though his hands are rough he handles yours with such care. Making sure not to hurt you as he checks for glass. He reaches into his small bag and pulls out a rag and wraps it around your hand.
“This’ll be okay for now but you need to put some salve on it and wrap it with a bandage.” Joel finishes wrapping your hand but he doesn’t let go of your hand.
His hands are so warm. You notice how tense he seems. He’s nervous. With the boost of confidence from Lacy you bite the bullet and speak.
“I like you. A lot.” You confess.
“I uh-” He doesn’t know what to say as you take him by surprise.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner.” Your voice gets smaller as you speak. Worried that you were right and he doesn’t feel the same.
“I got you somethin’” He reaches into his little bag and pulls out a small book.
“You told me about keepin’ a diary and well I found this and thought you could start again, if you wanted to.” He hands it to you, it's a little ripped but still intact. It’s clearly been patched up. The leather cover has been cleaned and there's a new ribbon around the center.
“Oh Joel, it’s perfect.” You run your hands along the spine in awe.
“I would love to go to dinner with you darlin’’” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. Helping you up he takes off his jacket and places it on your shoulders.
“Let me walk you back.” He places his hand on the small of your back.
You glance in the window of the bar and see Lacy talking with a few people. She makes them laugh and this time you smile. She catches your gaze and smirks, seeing Joel’s jacket and him so close.
For once it feels like you can breathe, the bitter feelings are gone. It’s a new start, a new friend gained in Lacy and hopefully a new love that will last forever.
“Are you okay?” Joel asks as he notices you in your head. Looking over at him you smile and he pulls you closer.
“I’m perfect Joel, just perfect.”
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pickingupmymercedes · 1 month
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Get me out of here - Lewis Hamilton
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Part 2 - Let's get out of here
Request: "I enjoy reading your posts so much, I wanted to maybe request? I love angst, maybe a Lewis one shot where the reader gets in the cross fire in the media kind of like Kate Middleton but with the Ferrari news?" - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: Angst, Lewis to Ferrari, Toto being an ass.
wordcount: +1k
a/n: Hi anon, thank you for the request and the support, it means the world! I loved writing that, but then again I love me some angsty, hope you like it ❤️.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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“You bastard, how could you?”
You entered the farm style house in the English countryside seeing red. Newspaper on hand and phone on the other, blazing through the formal reception rooms until you found Toto and Lewis talking in the sunroom at the back.
“Woah there, what’s that language?”
“I thought I could trust you Toto” Your voice coming out stronger and louder than even you expected, facing him to see it in his eyes he knew exactly what all this was about. You couldn’t help but whisper, almost to yourself “Gosh, I really did.”
“What’s going on? Why are you shouting?” Lewis interjected as he got up and headed towards you, his arms reaching for your waist to try and calm you down
“Ask him! I’m not the one who gave the damn interview.”
“I didn’t say it like that, you know how they twist our words” The Austrian reasoned as you paced in the room
“Enough you two. What the hell is going on?” Susie emerged from the adjoining room, still in her workout clothes, towel in hand.
You threw the paper on the desk in front of them, eyeing Toto as Lewis read the headline “Source of Ferrari’s leak: Toto’s former right-hand and Lewis’ girl”
“You thought I wouldn’t see it? That I wouldn’t know that you told the press I leaked about Ferrari ?!” Exasperation written in your eyes as you tried to understand why would Toto sell you out like that.
“C’mom, it’ll blow over. By Barhein no one will even remember” His german accent echoed through the room as he tried to impose himself
“You tried to throw me under the bus for someone you’re clearly trying to cover for, that’s the issue here”
“Who sold the story to the press, Toto?” This time it was Lewis’ voice that cut the air, his tone stern and demanding.
“Does it even matter? He clearly has more respect for whoever it was than he does for me.” Your voice full of disdain throwing Toto off as he looked at you with surprise in his eyes at the tone you were using.
“Don’t be like that.” Susie pleaded from the corner, still as confused as Lewis to the events unfolding.
“Why?! Does it hurt him? I can guarantee it doesn’t hurt as much as it did when I read that stupid interview” Your voice coming out in sharp pufs as you tried to hold back the tears that fought hard to fall.
“Toto, who told the press?” Lewis pressed him once again and you were about to blow out at him when you heard the Austrian confessing “I told them.”
Your head starting spinning and all you could do was march back to the car in the driveway, not really listening to anything they were trying to get through to you. You started the car while Lewis tried to talk you out of driving, his pleading shouts heard through the glazed windows.
Your sobs came out all at once when Lewis managed to get into the passenger seat and hold your trembling hands down, getting them away from the steering wheel and into his chest for you to feel his heartbeat, your frantic eyes finally finding his soothing ones.
“Get me out of here, please” was all you could whisper mid sobs, sliding to the other seat when Lewis jumped out to get to the other side, your peripheral vision catching a glimpse of the commotion in the doorsteps of the house, with Toto exasperatedly motion to a now infuriating Susie and a few other people.
It felt like hours before Lewis pulled over, a small countryside village in the distance and a herd of sheep around. One of his hands gripped the leather of the seat, his free hand smoothing your arm and his stare focused on the road ahead.
“He did it to protect the brand. They’re gonna have a whole year to bring George forward, to switch things around…”
“Why are you defending him?” You cut him mid-sentence; your voice toneless although your eyes showed your emotions were all over the place.
“Because we need to think this through, babe. Toto’s not one of us anymore, you saw it.” He turned to you, clutching your hand into his, breathing in before continuing.
“We can’t expect anything from him anymore, least of all you.” His stare pierced yours and you knew what he meant.
You and Toto had known each other for as long as Lewis had. You had made your way up from being just an intern all the way to actually being poached by AMG and then Daimler, the whole path closely followed by Toto’s advices, and even in the years you lived in Germany the F1 GPs were always a familiar home you got to come back to, because of Lewis and Toto.
“Why did he say it was me though?” You questioned after getting out of the car and sitting by a rock fence, your voice small, much like how you felt while you leaned into Lewis’ embrace.
“To get back at me, maybe?! I really don’t know.” He breathed out after a while, leaving a kiss on your head before looking out at the fields in front of you two. It was a typical English day, cold and humid but at least the sun tried to fight its way through the clouds.
“I’m sorry he made you feel like you had to leave” you looked up at him as you brought up the subject, it was still a sore one for him.
“I always thought I’d finish my career there” He didn’t look at you as he mumbled his response, his gaze lost to the horizon
“It’s going to be a long year, isn’t it?!” You thought out loud after a while of silence and just feeling each other’s breathing.
“Yeah… and I need you there, by my side, head held high” This time he turned to look at you, loving doe stare embracing you in his warmth, no idea what the future holds but sure he will be there.
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