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neoplatinum · 1 month

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morning beauty | myoui 'mina' minari

summary: has mina always looked this beautiful?

pairing: mina x 10th-member!reader

themes: fluff, major major fluff, minor 2yeon, rest of twice

wc: 3.9k

you had something to confess, a little guilty pleasure of yours, well guilty as in you didn't want the other members to find out. but it was truly something you enjoyed for yourself and kept hidden away from the rest of the girls.

you always chose to room with mina, because you liked waking up to her. it started when it was something jeongyeon commented on during the 2022 once day fanmeeting.

when jeongyeon explained that she would like to be reborn married to mina, she explained it was because she wanted to wake up to mina's face everyday. while chaeyoung and nayeon were playfully laying their claim on their women.

you realized you never actually slept in the same bed with mina, so you don't know what jeongyeon means by it. mina's gorgeous, you could never deny that, but wow does jeongyeon sound like she has a crush. you laughed at the sight of a jealous chaeyoung and nayeon.

letting the thought slip into the back of your mind for a while.

until twice's 5th word tour: ready to be was starting up. after the grueling work and practice that came with preparing for a seven leg tour, also was the need of having partners for hotel rooms. the first foreign show was kicked off in sydney, australia.

the beautiful warm city with bright lights shining in to the hotel lobby. while you were still trying to adjust to the time difference. just as you were about to yawn, body sinking into the hotel couch, mina walks up to you.

"hi, we're going to be rooming together." in that quiet, calm voice of hers, handing you a second key card. you nod and continue to yawn and rub at your eyes, ready to get settled in the hotel room before soundcheck. stuffing the keycard into your pocket, and rolling the luggage towards the elevators.

the room was gorgeous, facing the beautiful sun shining in, but you felt like a heavy log in water. the time difference was really messing with your energy levels, so you begrudgingly rolled your luggage inside. flopping onto the bed immediately.

mina's quietly humming a song as she gets settled. tucking her luggage away on her side of the room, and then getting ready to play on her switch.

you watched her, with your body laying flat on your stomach, but your head turned towards her. hearing the low sounds of her game, she doesn't say much, but it's comfortable being around her.

she’s always brought you a comforting sense of home even if you are thousands of miles away from korea.

mina's a nice contrast from constantly rooming with nayeon.

nayeon always flings her outfit all over the bed, even landing them on your bed. chargers and phone misplaced all the time, begging you to call her number and to find her chargers. this is a much different change of pace.

you wake up to the sight of mina, wearing cute jeans and a plain tee, long hair running down her back, her face away from you. rummaging through her toiletries bag for something. then she gets up to go wash her face. her face half turned towards you when she realizes you are awake.

you let out a small gasp, has her side profile always been this pretty? your eyes go wide, trailing down her face, from the sharp eyebrows to the beauty mark above her lip and her defined jawline. it's all too much for your heart to handle while still waking up.

"i'm going to go wash my face before soundcheck." she says quietly, nodding at you before disappearing into the bathroom. you begin to wonder what's in the sydney water.

the rest of the soundcheck and concert, you've been in a daze: a mina daze. constantly eyeing her from across the stage, side glances and unfocused. has she always looked this good?

you try and snap out of it before the concert starts, but as you watch mina perform 7 rings from behind the stage, your jaw drops naturally. eyes glued to the screen, watching her turn around to drop her ass. you nearly drop your mic.

jeongyeon stares at the performance, cheering mina on, but her eyes fall on you, watching you watch mina. she keeps that in mind.

the rest of the concert goes off without a hitch, the crowd's shouting and the energy in the sydney night is beautiful. you're enjoying a break as the group takes a quick break to chat with fans. you lean down to grab water bottles, handing some to the other members.

then the big screen shifts to mina, and you hear her voice reverberate around the stadium. you try and watch her across the stage, but she's blocked by tzuyu so you turn to watch the 4k big screen instead.

and as she shares her feelings for the sydney onces, you get entranced by her speaking. watching the way her eyes shine under the fluorescent lights and the gorgeous outfit she has on. the second time that day you ask yourself, has she always looked this good? mina continues to talk until you notice yourself being shown on screen, eyes glued to the screen.

you completely miss the timing for your turn to speak, and then nayeon and jeongyeon are making a big deal about you staring at mina. pushing and shoving you playfully as you try and play it off coolly. it's too late though because the internet's already circulating with videos of you staring down the screen with mina's face blown up.

onces all over the internet are making memes over it, the sight of your face, jaw dropped and just in awe of mina on the big screen.

by the time you are focused on the concert again, and interacting with fans. you begin waving and doing requests off of once's posters.

laughing at one that's asking for sana's hand in marriage, you tug her towards the excited fan and watching sana offer her hand out, laughing and running away. as if she didn't just kill that poor fangirl.

the walk out of the van into the hotel lobby is tiring, you can feel the adrenaline finally wearing off. the intensity of having to perform for so long taking a toll on you, you keep massaging your shoulder as you follow the girls up the elevator. jihyo and jeongyeon happily chatting about being in australia. and looking forward to exploring local spots.

mina taps you lightly, and you turn your body towards her.

"i brought massage oils." she says quietly, pointing towards the hand thats been rubbing your shoulders. you thank her quietly, letting her walk you to the hotel room, too tired to even talk.

you fall into a chair, watching mina take out another toiletry bag. grabbing some massage oil, taking the time to work the muscle aches and the tension in your shoulder. a nice relaxing feeling with her pressing the buildup away.

"thank you mina." you offer as she leaves to go wash off the massage oil. your cheeks dusted light pink at the attentive care she has for you, even if she's bone tired from her own performance.

after doing your nightly routine, you get ready to sleep off the exhaustion, dreaming of soft hands and long jet black hair. dreaming of the girl in the other bed in the room.

waking up you feel like you've been transported into a different world. eyes watching mina do her morning routine so gently and quietly. moving around to collect her outfit for the day, and to put on light makeup.

you try and concentrate on your own morning routine, but you keep glancing over at mina through the wall mirror as she fixes her eyeliner by the other sink. with your face dripping in water, you forget what you were supposed to be doing. that warm yellow light bringing a gorgeous hue to her skin.

walking out to join the other girls for breakfast didn't help either as mina was seated next to you, taking the edge seat closest to the window. the sun bouncing off her skin, glowing even more than in the bathroom. dahyun had to tap on you five times to get you to pass her the syrup bottle.

you try and snap back into the real world, but with a face like mina's, how can you?

the melbourne concert was amazing, the synergy in the air making you forget about your little dilemma. you playfully tugged chaeyoung along, running around the stage and making half hearts with her at every corner. hearing the shouts of fans at the sight at every pose. you nearly run into mina at one point, not noticing her in your peripheral until it's too late.

at the last second, you pull her body towards you, arms circling her waist in a protective hold, making sure she didn't fall backwards off the stage. in the stress of the moment, you don't realize how close you are to her face, until you look up. her eyes staring into yours, and your eyes go wide at the closeness.

trying to play it off, taking your arm away from her waist and asking if she's okay. but the video is circling the internet that night, fans squealing at the near kiss.

you try and avoid the topic as you and mina get ready for bed, mina wouldn't confront you about it, you know that much. she's quietly humming another song as she cleans up her make up bag. sorting it and tucking it away.

you try and think about anything else other than her, this mina fixation is slowly eating up your attention.

with the osaka and tokyo shows, you begin to get closer to mina, her taking time to bring you around to her favorite spots when she was younger. she's in her home country, and her parents are friendly, familiar faces.

they offer nice gifts to all the members, even asking you how your shoulder is doing. you reply that it's doing well, all thanks to mina's massage oils. they smile at that, glad their daughter is so nice and thoughtful to the other girls.

mina brings all the members over to the myoui residence for a sleepover.

you get a real feel for pre-debut mina. the game obsession is still obvious, but you also discover her childhood memories. photos littered in her room and a giant wall dedicated to the group. you try not to tear up at the sight of everyone as the final lineup from sixteen, but the memories are coming back.

she walks in with a box in her hand.

"this is for you, from my parents." and you look down and see massage oils, top of the line and very very expensive. your eyes widen at the sight, you would never justify buying this for yourself.

"oh mina, you don't have to." you push the box away.

"my parents insisted. i told them about your shoulder, and they ordered it right away." you smile at that, the myoui's are always so thoughtful. you begrudgingly take the box, and thanking her parents for the wonderful gift. promising to always look after mina.

that night as you get ready for a sleepover at the myoui's with all the girls huddled up in her living room floor, you think that you would love to live with mina.

then came the US leg of the tour, and with it came more moments spent with mina. you nearly had a heart attack when you found out mina was experiencing back pain the whole concert. she didn't even mention it, just pulled out a back brace from her luggage and wrapped it over her shirt.

mina had to calm you down from calling your manager, your frantic voice demanding a doctor visit immediately. she managed to convince you to let it go, with the promise of much-needed rest and letting you take care of her.

so you use the massage oils her parents bought to massage her back every night. attentively rubbing her lower back and then to her upper back. removing the knots in her shoulder, mina falls asleep at one point, so you tuck her in. pulling the comforter up and washing your hands before getting ready for bed.

with her back pain having flair-ups, you always carry her luggage, insisting that she doesn't carry heavy things. you insist even if she rolls her eyes because you'd rather have an unhappy mina who feels coddled than a mina in pain and aching from carrying around her luggage.

you start to question why you do all this for mina.

you've developed a routine since rooming with mina at every hotel. always tucking away mina's luggage by the side of the bed that is closer to the bathroom. in that corner that she always likes, always setting her makeup brushes from biggest to smallest, left to right on her vanity. you always make sure the water you brought to her was warm, not too hot but also not too cold.

when mina is feeling a little under the weather from being in the rain for the atlanta concert, you urge jeongyeon to come with you to buy medicine for her.

you stroll into the target, looking around for cough drops and cough medicine, going up to the cashier and through the use of your translator app, you successfully are directed to the right row. getting cough drops for mina.

while you are busy debating between two brands, with jeongyeon holding a basket full of remedies, jeongyeon asks you this.

"who is mina to you?"

"mina? she's our member." you laugh, what a silly question jeongyeon.

"no, who is mina to YOU?" jeongyeon asks again, as you shove one bag back into the display. then reaching into the back of a different row to get a bag of cough drops that hopefully no one has touched.

"she's my..." you stop, hand on the bag. a little confused by what jeongyeon means. "why are you asking this question?"

jeongyeon keeps shuffling her feet, peering on the other side and picking up a box of travel toothpaste for herself. "you've just been really close with her, and now you're even out here buying medicine and little things that she likes."

"well of course i would, it's what you would do for nayeon." you roll your eyes at the obvious.

"exactly, nayeon and i are together, and when she was sick you didn't rush me out here to buy her medicine. so what does that make mina to you?"

you grab the bag, placing it into the basket and briskly walking away.

"hey! you can't avoid the question!" jeongyeon catches up to you, while you continue to ignore her, and then you see a row of red. the nintendo switch display aisle.

bingo.

you begin searching through the rows of game cartridges for pikmin 4.

the game that mina's been raving about the release for. talking to you animatedly about how she excited she is to get her hands on it, talking about her obsession with the previous games. you kept that in mind to buy it for her when it releases.

with the chaotic schedule, mina never had the time to buy the game, so you took it upon yourself to buy it for her.

"oh you are so in love with her, dodging my question only to buy mina a switch game?" jeongyeon smirks at you placing the game into her basket.

"am not!" you shout back, and jeongyeon cackles because you're lying through your teeth. your cheeks are flushed, and you're throwing the worst temper tantrum ever.

"yeah, sure." jeongyeon continues to cackle as you take the basket out of her hand, rushing forward to pay for the stuff, ignoring the way jeongyeon is just waiting for you to look at her with that knowing smirk of hers.

you are not giving her the satisfaction.

you return to your hotel room after shoving jeongyeon to her room. begging nayeon to take her girlfriend away so she can stop asking you if you're in love with mina.

obviously you are not.

you walk into your own room, seeing mina laying like she was before you left, switch in hand and looking pale. you immediately press your hand to her forehead, oh good, she doesn't have a fever.

you start taking things out of the shopping bag. cough drops, and bottle of cough medicine in case she needed something stronger. pedialyte to rehydrate herself, chicken soup that won't hurt her stomach. and tylenol medicine in case she gets a fever. at the display of all the items on her nightstand, you scratch the back of your head. did you really buy that much?

"thank you, you really didn't have to get me so much. it was only a cough." she says quietly, taking the bag of cough drops and ripping it to throw one in her mouth. you realize you have definitely overreacted, but how could you not when mina was coughing?

then you remembered the gift in your hand.

"i also bought something for you." you hand her the physical copy of pikmin 4. watching the ways her eyes go wide, excitement coursing through her, she leans forward, offering you a hug, that has you frozen. and she turns to open the game. you sit by her side the rest of the night letting her explain the game to you.

oh god, maybe you are in love with mina.

it becomes a habit, watching mina play her games every night, no matter how hard or confusing the game was, you alway sat by her to watch her. sometimes she caught you watching her instead of the game and would just redirect your focus back to the game.

then it becomes a habit of sleeping in the same bed. you wake up to the sight of mina, always waking up before her, sometimes you liked tucking her hair out of her face if you were bold. or plugging her switch into the outlets when she falls asleep playing it. you don't question it when she gets closer to you, and you lay your arm over her protectively.

today, mina didn't even want to wake up, so here you are, arranging breakfast in a tray from the lobby, bringing it up to her. with jeongyeon following you, you forget about how this isn't normal behavior for you. so dedicated and attentive to mina's wellbeing.

you walk in and gently place the tray by the counter. then you sit down to wake up mina, tapping her shoulder in a way you know won't spook her. as she slowly gets up, you brush her hair away, you also unwrap utensils for her to eat the breakfast you have for her.

she's enjoying her meal, with you making sure each bite isn't hot, blowing on it if it's too hot. and then you hear it.

"oh. my. god." your head snaps towards the hallway, the sight of jeongyeon and nayeon peering in, with jeongyeon filming the whole interaction. nayeon giggling like an idiot and hitting jeongyeon on the arm. then you get up ready to chase them out the room, them both turning on their heel rushing out the room.

you grow embarrassed, cheeks and ears flushed red and you look at mina, who also seems embarrassed being caught like this.

"let me go talk to them." you say, needing an out from this awkward moment. mina nods and continues eating her meal, letting you walk out, with your hands in your pockets and a nervous shiver down your spine.

you spot the two girls, eyeing jeongyeon's phone, and you can see it even if their back is turned to you. nayeon's snickering and jeongyeon's loud gasps. the video of you hand-feeding mina playing through the speakers.

"jeongyeon!" you shout as you get ready to snatch the phone out of her hand. she's quick, tucking the phone into her shirt. if it had been literally any two other members, you would not have to lose your head like this.

"so...mind explaining to us what's going on?" nayeon looks at you amusedly, pointing at the hotel door. you shake your head no, adamantly.

"oh also, just so you know, jeongyeon sent the video into the groupchat." nayeon says to you, and jeongyeon chases after her girlfriend down the hallway. you get ready for the confrontation that's going to happen when everyone in the group chat sees the video.

jihyo has you and mina in two chairs, watching you two closely. eyes boring into your and then into mina's, it keeps going on until you finally snap.

"jihyo please, can you just say what you want to say?" you sigh.

"okay, i had to do this to jeongyeon and nayeon when i found out they were sleeping together." she explains, you gag at the information, while mina looks away. "are you two together?"

"we're..." you trail off at the end. you haven't asked mina at all, you barely know if she feels anything towards you. mina taps her foot rhythmically. a nervous tick she's developed over the years, you hold her hand, and she stops tapping her foot.

"ooookay, i'll let you guys talk it out." jihyo slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.

you look at mina, she's not looking at you either. but the urge to confess was too much to handle, and you realize words are tumbling out of your mouth, before you had the time to think it through.

"i like you mina, i realized it through this tour, with how beautiful you are, i mean that inside and out. you were so attentive about my shoulder and you always offered to give me a massage even if you were tired from the concert."

you continue to word vomit in front of her.

"i mean i always knew you were gorgeous, but wow you take my breath away. seriously, all those videos circulating the internet was actually because you took my breath away. i want to wake up to your face, every. single. day. i don't know if you like me back, but i really do like you."

her face is beet red, hands rubbing one another as she listens to you talk, and then without another word, she gives you a quick peck on the lips, and returns to her seat. even more embarrassed than before.

"mina?" you gasp out. feeling for your lips, ones that she just kissed. she shakes her head no, but her feeling are betraying her. her body sinking into herself.

you giggle at it; it's cute that she can't even say it. "i'm going to assume you like me back because you kissed me."

she nods her head shyly, and then you let out a laugh.

at the very last concert of the ready to be tour. you're busy trying to tease tzuyu with momo. a wonderful encore stage to wrap up the amazing 49 concert tour. you continue to circulate the stage, often chasing jeongyeon and nayeon, when you spot a sign, "mina, will you marry me?"

you squint a bit at it, a little hard to read in the night, but when you get it, you immediately bring the mic to your lips, accidentally speaking into it.

"you can't marry mina, i'm marrying her."

the video breaks the internet.

a/n: this is a birthday gift to minari!! thank you to @im--yoong who messaged me requesting this fic, this is the video that inspired this fic!!

ALSO HUGE HUGE HUGE SHOUTOUT to @cry4mina who helped me move this story along, frfr saved me. bare-faced mina could save me, i believe it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#mina x reader #twice mina #mina twice #mina myoui #minari myoui #myoui mina #twice x you #twice x reader #twice #kpop imagines #neoplatinum

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randomdragonfires · 1 month

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Pieces of a Woman | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Even when his life takes a turn for the worse, Aemond Targaryen endures.

WARNINGS | 18+; Canon Divergence AU; Smut; Insanity; B&C; Gore; Delusions; Miscarriage; Yearning; ANGST

WORD COUNT | 7.2k

A/N | This is my personal favourite out of all the stories I've ever written, reposted with a new header and all that fun stuff! Beta read by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs ❤️

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins.

They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment the madness had sunk its claws into his wife. He had watched as her once bright and hopeful eyes became empty and devoid of emotion. He had watched as she was pulled into the darkness completely, becoming a shell of the woman she once was.

As much as he wished he could turn back time, he had accepted his fate. He accepted that he would never have his wife back. He would never hold her in his arms again and never get to lay his head on her lap as she embroidered. She would never read to him in her mellifluous voice ever again, despite the fact that he would give everything he had to have her with him once more.

What good was all this power and wealth, if he could not protect his own family? What good was his title as Prince Regent, if he did not have her to stand by his side? If he could not protect his little boy?

His hair, once braided to the side by her deft and nimble fingers with love, remained uncared for, left loose in all its glory. Training his one dark-rimmed, tired eye at the crypt that held the ashes of his heir, Aemond Targaryen let the sadness take him - for when his son’s life was brutally snuffed out, his wife’s very soul had been too.

There was nobody to blame for it all apart from himself.

Ever since their wedding, she had been a steady and calm presence in his life. She was the quiet to his rage, the water to his fire. He had always been a sullen and lonely child that harbored resentment for those who had wronged him, but he felt his heart steadily calm down with every moment he spent in her presence.

It wasn't until he met her that he realized he was lacking love and consideration, both of which he believed had never received before - not like this. She gave him an opportunity to be a better man; one that he took eagerly with both arms.

In return, he was a respectful husband who did his very best. He wasn’t adept at great gestures of love, but he always made sure that his wife woke with a kiss to her hair and his arms enveloping her body. He wanted her to never know loneliness for as long as he lived, he would make sure of it.

For all his reading and knowledge, Aemond was not good at making his appreciation known verbally. Instead, he would bring her huge tomes from the library so he could read to her. These books covered topics that he was passionate about, so everytime he brought one, he was offering up a part of his soul. Who better to give it to than the woman he has sworn his heart, soul and loyalty to?

He needed her. He needed her from deep in his soul, and he needed her carnally, always. She was all that was missing in his life, and now that he had her, he would always need her.

But right now, as her screams erupted through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, Aemond’s heart lurched in his chest, becoming heavier with each passing moment. The babe was arriving, and it would seem that the child was taking her for all that she was. Everytime she groaned in pain, he held onto the railing tighter than ever, as though it would make her pain go away.

They would not let him in, no. Childbirth was a woman’s fight, and the men would have to wait outside - much like the women did when the men went to battle. There was nothing he would not give to hold her hand right now; to tell her that she would be an absolutely beautiful mother, and that all she had to do was summon all her strength and emerge victorious.

As though she had heard his thoughts, her pained wails slowly died down, replaced by the first cries of a newborn. Boy or girl, the babe had an incredibly strong pair of lungs on them, their mighty cries could overshadow even the loudest of thunderstorms. The cries echoed through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, and the servants outside immediately jumped to work. A new royal babe had been born after all - there was work to be done, celebratory feasts to be organized, chambers to be prepared, nothing but the best for a Targaryen.

His mother stepped out of the chambers and laid a hand on his back in comfort. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled in congratulations. “Mother and babe are well, my son. She has made me so proud. The little one is beautiful, he would go on to achieve many great things. Just like you.”

A son. She had given him an heir to carry his bloodline. How would he ever repay her?

He walked into the chambers with speed that he did not know he possessed, his purpose made clear with each stride. The midwives and maids moved to make way for the One-Eyed Prince, and in he went.

She laid in the middle of the chambers, looking like she had braved the worst experience of her life. Her hair was askew, with sweat coating her entire body, her fatigue was palpable. Blood and waters coated the floor, and the chambers smelled like death. The bloody spots on her shift alarmed him, and it concerned him to see his usually happy and energetic wife look so thoroughly worn out. But then she smiled.

Through all her weariness from the challenges of the birthing bed, she had meekly smiled at him - and all was alright in his world again. He held her cheek in his palm and kissed her forehead, heart full from knowing that she was alright. She reached for his other hand, holding onto it like it was the last thing that kept her tethered to reality.

“Are you well, wife?”

The seemingly simple question certainly did not project the waves of concern that had plagued him outside while he waited with bated breath, but she knew. She saw it in the crinkles on his forehead and the widening of his good eye.

“I am now.”

She had braved battle, and had never looked more beautiful to him than she did now. Her voice was hoarse from all the pained screaming, and she certainly had no business being awake right now - but by the Gods, he was the happiest man in the realm.

The maids were done with wiping the blood off of the babe and had handed the boy to her. Aemond knew right then that he would have to compete for his wife’s attention from then on, for his little son had clearly stolen her heart, and his, within moments of his birth.

Her weak voice called out to him once more. “Aemond, husband… look what we made.”

He was exquisite. Aemond reached out to the babe, his son, and his son's pudgy rose finger latched onto his long, sturdy one as he continued to cry. “He has a strong grip. He shall be a storied warrior." She smiles at the possibility, and he cannot help but kiss her hand once more.

"You’ve given birth to a boy as strong as you are, wife.” He watched as she nudged her nose to the babe’s and smiled, her face glistening from sweat and tears. His newborn son’s cries got louder with each passing moment, but despite being a man of silence and solitude, Aemond had never felt more at peace.

“Thank you.”

Aemond would be the first to deny that he was a doting paragon of a husband that the bards would sing about, but he certainly was a good man who loved and respected his wife.

In the days that followed the birth of his child, he had spent every waking moment that he could spare with the pair of them. Both mother and son had the fierce One-Eyed Prince wrapped around their fingers. Between sparring sessions and battling his family’s idiosyncrasies on the daily, his little family had given him quite the reprieve, one that he was infinitely thankful for.

But now, his son is gone, and his wife is too.

“The heirs need to be kept safe. The twins, little Maelor, all three of them,” his mother said.

He may be in the middle of a war, but it was moments like these that seemed hardest to him. Aemond sat quietly by the hearth, in the very same chair where he always rested. His wife used to sit by him or at his feet as she embroidered. Now, her absence was a gaping hole each time he sat.

“Aemond…”

He turned to the sound of his grandfather calling out his name, looking cold and calculated. It did not escape Aemond that he was discussing the safety of his brother's children while he had lost his own child. The irony of it all was stark and jarring.

“Yes,” he curtly responded.

“It is in our best interests that you…” His grandfather paused midway through his words, and Aemond knew well that the man did that only when unsettling news was to follow. “...that you take a new wife. We’re in need of an alliance, and she can be sent to the motherhouse at Oldtown. She will be cared for, she will be fed-”

He saw red. “My son is dead!” The words tumbled out of Aemond’s mouth like shards of glass before he could even comprehend the gravity of his grandfather’s heavy, cutting words.

"My son’s death is on my conscience, his blood is on my hands. I did not do the deed myself, but it certainly feels like I was the one who wielded the knife that killed him.” The people had taken to calling him a kinslayer, and Aemond felt it in his bones everyday - not because of Lucerys Velaryon, but because of how his rash actions had resulted in the death of his little boy.

“My son is dead, and my wife has not been the same ever since. How do you think I can start a new family, with a new woman, when I know very well that I have caused all the grief that has driven my wife to madness? When I caused the death of my own child?”

Aemond Targaryen always made for a menacing sight, but his grandfather was not prepared for the kind of anger that his grandson had kept stored in him - for himself, his wife, and his son. They were not here, and he was angry enough for all three of them.

The Dowager Queen watched the entire conversation unfold, and she held her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat become frantic with each moment that she saw her son in distress. She knew how content he was in his wife's presence, and how much he loved her. To watch a child grow and fester in his own resentment - no mother should have to witness it. And yet, the Gods saw fit to give Alicent Hightower the closest view to her son's heartbreak.

“Get out,” he seethed. Otto Hightower took Aemond’s raw and angry words in stride before walking away, his head still held high.

His mother stood in front of him, held his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, my boy. I’m so sorry…”

She wept until she could not, and it took everything Aemond had in him to not do the same.

When he tossed and turned in his bed in the middle of the night, he would always reach out for her.

She would always welcome his touch and curl into him, her forehead resting on the smooth planes of his chest and her warm breath making goosebumps rise on his skin. He would hold her tight until neither could ascertain where one ended and the other began, and sleep that normally eluded him would come to him faster than anything else.

Tonight, her spot on the bed is empty.

When he woke in a hurry, he noticed the crumpled sheets and the pillows left askew, the only evidence of her having retired to bed alongside him. He quickly rose from the bed and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, wondering as to where she could have gone at this ungodly hour.

Gods, was she hurt?

He did not have to wait for the divine deities to answer, for his answer came in the form of the sweet humming sounds that he had grown to love. He followed her voice as he walked through their apartments, and it led him to the chamber where his son’s crib was kept. She was sitting next to it in her white shift, her head peeping in as she let her hands rest on the crib. She hummed softly and happily, marveling at how beautiful her little boy looked as he slept - looking much like the man she shared her bed with.

Aemond wanted to ask her to come back to bed immediately. The maesters had advised lots of rest for his wife, given the stress of the labors and the damage her body had taken. But as he watched her and his boy, he knew he couldn’t. He needed a moment to drink in the sight of his wife and son - his entire world, all in one chamber.

He held so much love in his heart for them both despite seeing them only with one eye. Perhaps he’d be able to love them more if he could see them with two.

“He’s going to be there when we wake, wife. Come back to bed.”

She turned to him and smiled, a warm smile that he wished he could brand into his mind for all eternity. “Did I wake you?”

“You did not. Your absence from our bed did.”

She chuckled softly, and he walked over to her. He positioned himself behind her chair and kissed her temple, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. “I don’t think I shall ever tire of looking at him,” She said.

“Hm.” His gaze rested on the sleeping babe, tired from all his crying throughout the day.

“My son, a dragon prince,” She mused. “He’ll be charming, strong and intelligent, just like his father.”

At that, he chuckled darkly and she rose, turning around to face him. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into her touch, leaving a light kiss on her wrist as he held her hand in place. “What’s so amusing, husband?”

“Charming is not the first word anyone would use to describe me, wife.”

“Well, you are. To me.” Her whispering siren-like voice was like music to his ears.

She reached up on her toes and left a light kiss on his brow, and Aemond was quick to hold her to him by the waist, wanting to have this - this quiet solace - all to himself for a time.

Who was he to argue with the woman around whom his entire world revolved? The very one that held his heart in her hands?

He stands in the middle of what used to be their shared chambers and sighs.

The entire room is covered in pieces of her - fragments of her that he desperately clings to for dear life. Robes and dresses that she had not worn in a long time, but still manage to somehow retain her scent. Quills and ink that she used to write her correspondence with, now left to gather dust. Ten Thousand Ships, her favorite book, one that he had given to her as a name day present, laid abandoned on the bedside table.

This was the very same chamber where he had claimed her. This was where he had first admitted to loving her. This was where she had told him that she was with child. This was where they had spent countless nights talking well into the night, their bodies entwined and voices coming out in hushed whispers and low giggles. This was where they had discovered and learned of the passions of the marital bed, together. This was where their marriage had grown and bloomed.

If he walks a little further, his feet will take him to the adjoined room where his son used to sleep - but try as he might, he does not have the strength for that. Not yet.

He sits by the edge of their bed, the sunlight passing through the windows in streaks of yellow gold. He closes his good eye, hoping for a little time to adjust to the light. Perhaps if he closes it hard enough, he will be able to picture her sitting by the window with her focused eyes trained on her embroidery or one of his books, waiting for him to come back to her after his daily duties.

His nose flares at the unearthly reminder that his wife is no longer his by side. She had been full of happiness and life, and she had brought light into his life. He welcomed it for as long as she was around, but now that she was gone, he closes his eye and avoids it like the plague, much like he does with the sunlight that now warms his skin.

Her world has become dark because of him. How can he sit in the light in good conscience, when he knows he has lost all right to it?

The waves crashed by the shores of Blackwater Bay and she sat on the sands, watching them. She had a book in her hands, and a basket of food that she had the maids prepare for them to take.

Her eyes closely followed her husband as he held their baby son’s hands upright, his little pudgy feet resting over his huge boot-clad ones as he led them forward. The little boy’s gurgling and laughing echoed through the wind, and she took a bite of a juicy apple while holding a book in her other hand.

They were the picture of a happy family, the stories of whom may be immortalized in songs for years to come.

He had not yet begun to walk, and his words were all a blubbering mess - but Aemond Targaryen was not known for being patient. He insisted on guiding his son to his feet so his first steps would come to him quicker, and spoke to him in High Valyrian in hopes that his first words would be in his native tongue.

Her boys had walked all the way toward her with her baby’s toes pressing onto Aemond’s feet harshly. He picked him up and held him then, and his son’s hands landed on his eyepatch. It had become his favorite little plaything these days - the boy took to wrangling it off his father’s head and swinging it with his two fat fingers until he grew tired - that was if he did not notice the sapphire first. By the Gods, if he did, he would insist on taking that off to play with too. His son, like him, had a taste for the finer things in life, it would seem.

“He’s taken well to the waters, I think,” she said. Her fondness for the little lad and her husband was evident in her face as she watched them. Her son had taken to swinging his arms in all directions, occasionally hitting his father’s face.

“Water does not mix with fire and blood. He should not be taking so well to the waters.”

“Suppose he can embrace it all then. Perhaps he’s… special.” She rose to meet her son’s eyes, leaving a kiss on his cheek. The boy smiled, a handful of his father’s alabaster hair in his hands as he pulled. Aemond winced, and she giggled.

“Zaldrītsos…” Aemond murmured, a quiet plea to his son to stop. It fell on deaf ears, but he did not mind. [Little dragon]

A maid had come to inform them that their presence was requested in the keep, and Aemond handed the boy over to her before walking back to give his wife his hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and rubbed her hand with his before leading them away, their steps slow and relaxed.

“We should have another,” she said. Her smile, the source of all his content, was as bright as the sun. “You should take me tonight,” she murmured then, eyes quickly blackened by lust. He watched as the girl with childish wonder transformed into a seductress, and he lost even before he tried - defeat had never felt sweeter.

He could never deny her anything she wanted.

“Do you want me, wife?” He muttered darkly as he halted his steps, turning towards her. He held her by the waist and kissed her brow, waiting for her to respond.

“I always want you,” she murmured, eyes fluttering at the closeness of his lips. Her bright eyes sought his lilac one as the sound of the waves rippled through the air. “I also want to bear you another child. Would you like that, husband? Another little babe for us to love…”

He nodded and kissed her, pouring all his passion into it as he devoured her lips. “You do look beautiful, belly round and full with my child.”

That night, he choked her name out like an urgent prayer while he spilled into her, his peak following soon after hers. He then peppered kisses across her face and neck as the smell of sweat and coupling engulfed them, while she held onto his hair and let her hand wander over it in a soothing manner. He rubbed a hand over her belly, praying that his seed had taken. If not, he would seek her out and touch her everywhere once more - he would never be tired of her.

If another child was what she desired, then she shall have it - for how could he ever deny her?

The burns and injuries had ruined any spirit Aegon may have had as King.

He had watched his brother as he grew into a fierce protector of his family soon after being crowned. Ser Criston had made clear the dangers that they posed to Rhaenyra with their very existence, and it was all Aegon needed to grow into his role as the rightful monarch. However, he had gotten ahead of himself and underestimated his skills as a dragonriding fighter and gotten himself hurt.

Aemond’s role as Prince Regent was something that he slid into seamlessly - he had always known that he was the better fit for the throne after all. His first action was to ensure the safety of his own wife, Helaena and her three children.

“They’ve been moved to our father’s old chambers. Deep in the Holdfast, far away from any possible intru-”

“I know where the chambers are, Aemond. Will you shut up? You’re giving me a headache.” Aegon interrupted, words slurred as he sipped on Arbor Red. The wine sloshed in the cup as it moved in his unsteady hands.

His eyes were trained on his brother, a tired and tested man who was now incharge of running a Kingdom. Aegon knew that the crown was heavy, but it did not compare to the weight of the world that Aemond always carried on his shoulders. It only seemed to have gotten worse since his son’s death and his wife’s isolation.

“Does she fare any better?”

“No.” It is all Aemond wishes to say on the matter.

While he may not want to speak of the family he had lost, Aemond knew that he would protect those he was left with every breath in his body if need be. He may not have been there for his little boy, but he would die before he let a hair on any of his remaining family members’ heads be touched. The regret of being an inadequate husband and father pricked at him like the heat from the bright blaze of the fire in the hearth, and he walked out with purpose.

He knew where he was going next. After all, his feet always carried him to her at nightfall.

When Aemond came home dripping wet from the rain that had drenched him at Storm’s End, he was convinced that he had ruined everything good that he had. He could not imagine a simple scratch on his little boy without feeling angered - how could he expect Rhaenyra to simply accept her son’s death?

He had to get them safe. He had to keep them safe. He had to keep them safe. Safe, safe, safe.

She had just left the babe with the nursemaid and come to their chambers to find a moment of quiet before her son’s inevitable crying began again. Her eyes widened when she opened the door to find her husband completely drenched, looking like he was inviting death with open arms. He may as well have.

“Aemond..” She rushed to him immediately, hands going to his damp hair and clothes. “Gods did it rain on your ride back home? Let me fetch you some clean clothes and something to dry yourself with.” He reached out to her before she could go too far, and she gasped at how cold his touch was.

It was always warm, and tonight it was not.

“Stay, please.”

“I need you to put on something warm first, Aemond. You’ll catch a chill.”

She was too distracted by his wet state to notice the tears mixed with the raindrops. He said nothing as she walked away and brought back fresh garb for him to change into. She quietly bade that he raise his arms and he obeyed, not having the strength to do anything else. Slowly, each garment fell with a wet thwack to the floor and she took to wiping all the water off of him.

His grave silence unnerved her immensely, and she knew something was wrong. She would wait for him to say it.

She dressed him in a linen undershirt and breeches and took him to his beloved chair by the fire, in hopes that it would warm him up and encourage him to tell her of what plagued him. He sat in silence for a long while as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her forehead leaning on one of his thighs while her finger drew mindless patterns on the other.

His hand always reached for her hair when they sat like this, but tonight, that was not the case. She looked up at him with inquiring eyes, and as he caught her vision with his one eye, he did not have the heart to tell her what he had done, but he had to.

“I killed Lucerys Velaryon.” His voice is hoarse and the words are choked out with difficulty, and while the weight of his actions hit him hard, it was harder to watch his sweet wife’s concerned face morph into something else entirely.

“What?”

“He was sent as an envoy. I only meant…” He gulped, and the tears fell freely once more.

She quickly lifted herself up and straddled him, holding his face in both her hands. Her fingers caught every tear that fell in quick succession. “Tell me, go on.”

“I only meant to scare him. I need you to believe me, I did not mean to kill him.”

Her husband was a proud man, and it made her stomach churn to see him sound so broken. She feared that she may not like what she was about to hear, but she had promised to be his other half for all his life, and now he needed her.

He may be fearsome, but he was not a cold-blooded murderer. He did not mean to kill him - but how much weight did his intent hold, now that the boy was dead?

“I believe you. Go on.”

“The dragons…” He let out a hoarse breath and she continued to wipe at his tears with the tips of her thumbs - softness that he right now felt very undeserving of. “Arrax breathed fire at Vhagar and she retaliated, she bit into the dragon’s neck and Luke fell, so did Arrax.”

She felt light headed with worry. How could she stomach the thought of a young boy falling to his death from the skies? How could she, when she was a mother to a little boy herself?

His uncle, Daemon, was going to come for them, Aemond was sure of that. But he could not bring himself to think of much else as he watched his wife digest all that he had told her, never once ceasing to remind him that she believed him, even if nobody else would.

When they rose, Aemond’s anger knew no bounds. The possible consequences ran through his mind as he pushed his desk onto the floor with brute force. The sharp edges of her vanity had drawn blood from the back of his hand as he moved in frustration, and she was quick to hold onto him and remind him of her presence. He was not alone, he had her.

“Take me. Take it out on me.” Aemond could not think straight, and she could not bear to see him hurt himself, any more than he already has. It is this very thought that drives her to take his hand and lay it upon her clothed chest.

He took her from behind that night, hands clutching onto her bouncing breasts. Every string that was stretched had snapped with each rough thrust into her, the sounds of skin slapping skin somehow seeming too rough that night. “We’re going to be fine, wife,” he groaned - and she did not know whom he was trying to placate - her, or himself?

“I will keep you safe, the both of you.”

When he was done with her, she was left looking ragged with dried tear tracks on her face. He wanted to apologize - it seemed as though he hurt everything he touched, and after his now dead Stong nephew, his own sweet wife was his latest victim.

She held him between her breasts that night as they both wept, at a loss for words at what he had done. She did not know how to comfort him or rid him of the guilt or paranoia that his mind now played host to.

What she did know is that her husband needed her, and that she was not going anywhere. So when he suggested sending her and their son away, fearing for her safety, she begged him to let her stand by his side.

“If something were to happen to me, there would be nobody to protect you and our boy.”

“If something were to happen to you, our son and I would much rather follow you than brave many years alone.”

He reluctantly gave in, thinking that an increased guard and his constant presence around them would be enough to keep them unharmed.

How wrong he was.

He had walked away only for a moment.

His wife had wanted to eat some cake during the night - he suspected that she was with child again. Little did he know that it was the last moment of their happy marriage. The sight that he had walked back into was something that would never fail to haunt him.

Dead guards, a whole litany of them. His wife in her bloodied white shift, holding onto their son’s decapitated body. All the light in her eyes had dimmed as he stood frozen in place, his eye widened at the harrowing sight before him.

She wailed as she clutched the corpse to her chest, with no care for the injuries on her own body, or the blood of their babe that was now mixed in with her own.

“My boy, my precious boy…”

The rest of the royal family soon followed and his mother pulled her away from the babe’s lifeless body. He fell to the floor with no one to hold him, and Aemond could do nothing but watch. Aegon’s angry calls for his nephew’s head to be brought back along with the killers slipped into one ear and slipped out the other, and he went numb as he realized that the consequences of his actions had caught up to him.

Him, he could understand. But his sweet wife, his little son? What had they done?

A son for a son.

The rational part of his mind would have argued that Luke’s death probably left Rhaenyra feeling the same tragedy that he was faced with - but he was anything but rational in that moment. His fists clenched as his knuckles met the wall, and Aegon had to physically restrain him from walking out to catch the rats himself.

“She needs you. She needs you. She needs you. Listen to me, Aemond!”

Helaena had collapsed onto the chair entirely, repeating ominous words that he did not register at all.

“Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese.”

Aegon had gone to join in the hunt for his nephew’s killers, and she kept rocking herself back and forth at the sight of the blood that now painted the walls and floors of her brother’s chambers until she was led away. Aemond stood, all alone in a pool of his son’s and wife’s blood.

When the Silent Sisters were led into the chamber by his grandfather, Aemond froze. His wife had held their lifeless son to her breast as she cried, but he could not bring himself to look at him, much less touch him.

Hours later, with patches of his own son's blood soaked through his clothes, he had gone to see her. He held her in his arms as she sobbed through the night, trying to push him away with each firm hit to his chest. Aemond shushed her over and over to no avail, holding her closer each time she tried to separate herself from him. Sometime during that night, her eyes had become lifeless; a deep abyss. The sight of it finally drove him to tears too, with his good eye becoming a glistening violet ring floating in a sea of angry red.

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins. They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment when the madness had sunk its claws into his wife.

It was right then as he held her, comforting her and apologizing like a madman for tainting her life with his presence.

The moonlight diverged through the stained glass windows that directly faced the room where she now resided. She had been kept in these chambers before their wedding, and she often spoke of how beautiful the lights were when they fell directly onto the corridors, reflecting the colors of the glass that they slid through. He wondered if she still thought the same. He wondered if she even looked.

In the day that followed their son’s death, they had burned their little boy and watched as his body was wheeled around the streets of King’s Landing for their benefit. Aemond had wanted to retch then, but he held his wife tight as the people empathized with the kind princess whose time as a doting mother had been brutally cut short.

She fared worse - she looked dead in her eyes, and he was sure she was lost on the inside too. He did not know if she even sensed his hold on her as she kept muttering their dead boy’s name in a series of weak whimpers.

Two days later, she had lost their second child. He held her from behind and rocked her gently as the blood flowed from between her thighs for hours, the babe coming out in clumps of bloodied skin, having never drawn breath. Every moment of his wife’s torture plagued Aemond’s existence, and he questioned his abilities as a protector while grieving his son and his unborn child all alone.

The Gods were cruel to him in their games. They made him watch as his son’s life was taken, and they took bits of his wife’s mind and soul with each passing day. He supposed that this was the hand that kinslayers were dealt.

It was a slow death for Aemond, and it had begun the day his son was killed. Now he had to watch as his once vivacious wife completely lost hold over all her senses, and lived in a world where he could not reach her.

On some days, she would receive him with love, as though his presence in her life had not destroyed her completely. He would be able to revel in her touch once more, if only to simply be able to remind himself that she was still alive - in body, if not soul. He missed her, his wife, his woman, his entire heart. But his actions had killed her from the inside - did he have a right to his yearning anymore? He did not want to know, for he feared that he may not like the answer.

On other days, she would be the complete embodiment of madness. She would fight the maesters and scream at them, begging for them to let her die and throw herself off the window. She would pull at her beautiful hair, blame him continuously and shriek, mourning the loss of their child.

When she was done, she'd lower her voice and murmur words into the air. Speaking to no one in particular, almost like a ghost, she'd fidget with her dress and say, "His body twitched after they hurt him. My baby boy suffered. Oh, my boy!"

He may not have wielded the knife that removed his head, but his actions caused it. He may as well have killed his son himself. Guilt was not an emotion that Aemond Targaryen knew well as a boy, but it was all he now knew as a grown man.

She would bawl and cry at him to go away. She would scream at him to leave her alone, and blame him for killing her children - and rightfully so. And though it pricked at his heart, he would come back every night.

He wonders how she is feeling tonight. He wishes she was ignorant and unaware, for he is desperate for her touch, her company. It has been weeks. He is brought back to reality when the Maester’s gown billows behind him in the night wind.

“Your Grace.” he bows.

“How is she?”

“Somewhat calmed tonight and not lucid, my prince.” The old man sighs before continuing. “The Princess continues to ask for her little prince. We have given her milk of the poppy, so she may fall asleep soon enough.”

“Hm.”

He is mildly relieved to hear that she is not herself tonight - for it allows him to relive some of their happier days.

In his hand is a book - Ten Thousand Ships, the very one that he had gifted her. He dismisses the maester and his stewards follow behind him. Aemond walks into the room with his mind steeled, ready to be brave - for himself and for her.

“Husband! Come, come!” Her cheery voice is not quite hers, and it unnerves Aemond - her words are not from her heart, and it takes everything in him to not fall to his knees and apologize once more for what he has done to her. “The Maester said our boy’s learning to walk! Did you see him? I was promised that you would bring him tonight! Where is he?”

Gone, where we cannot see him, he wants to say. But how could he, without wanting to throw himself at her feet in regret? “He is tired. All that walking has exhausted him.”

“I suppose, yes! They tried to force me to take that vile concoction once more tonight, I managed to push it away and evade them! Look!” His gaze follows her hand and sees the spilled milk of the poppy on the floor. His wife was a calm and steady woman, and now she was behaving like a child and mistreating maesters.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You should not do that, wife. It is not proper.”

He holds her hand and kisses her knuckles, before leaning his head back to look at her. Her hair has not been combed today, and he gently turns her around to run his fingers through her hair, digits trembling at touching her once more. She could come to at any moment and remember who had caused her such distress, and then she would cry until he walked away - the very real possibility rakes at Aemond, so he remains prepared for her to push him away any time now.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

"I know. I drank it the second time. I'm sorry."

He then turns her back to face him and notices the dark rims around her empty eyes. He sighs and lets out a long, heavy breath. If he was drunk enough and she was unaware, he would fool himself into thinking that they were alright. But they aren’t.

“It is time to go to bed, wife. Will you come with me?” I love you, I miss you and I am sorry. Will you come back to me? Please?

He kisses both her eyelids and leads her to the bed in her shift. He gently helps her lay down, following her immediately as he lays next to her. She leans into his hold seamlessly and he tightens his arm around her - it hurts him how despite her madness, her penchant to seek out his touch never changes.

He takes the book from the bedside table, and she squeals. “Will you read to me tonight, husband? I do love it when you read to me. Perhaps a quiet moment between the both of us before the maids bring our son back? You know how he makes a fuss and refuses to give us a moment of quiet!” She laughs, and Aemond holds his tears back once more.

“Of course.” He kisses her temple.

He begins reading and the dry sounds of his throat lull her to sleep in his arms as he rakes his fingers through her hair. When she has completely drifted away from him, he allows himself a moment of thought and kisses her on the lips - watching as she murmurs his name.

He had taken her to wife, and sworn to protect her from any harm that may come her way. In the end, the only one she had to be protected from, was himself. He failed her, and now, he would not rest until he picked up all the pieces and put her back together.

When morning comes, she may still be unconscious of her surroundings and allow him some more time, or she may be lucid and scratch at his face until he leaves her alone. The uncertainty kills him, but he will allow himself to enjoy her tonight.

It was on this very day that he had kissed her for the first time, in the Sept, between the statues of the Mother and the Father. On this day, four years ago, they were married.

And on this day, he continues to read to her because she had asked, even when she had fallen asleep - for how could he ever deny her?

BONUS CHAPTER FOR THIS FIC, HERE.

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randombush3 · 21 days

Text

(extremely talented, creative) stalker

alexia putellas x reader

based on this and a poem from when i was little. i chose alexia because she fit the character more and i rushed this immensely because i was being pestered for attention by multiple creatures. oh and i went for something decently light-hearted bc these hozier fics have been affecting my soul and ruining my spotify daylists.

happy monday people x

p.s. not proof-read because it's lunchtime and i'm hungry (edit: i just did my proof-read now and i've realised that it was in fact not lunchtime??? it was past lunchtime and i was just zoned out!)

Alexia doesn’t care much for art. Sure, she admires the effort, the time such talent sits behind a canvas and marks something that was once blank until others begin to value it. She agrees with the masses about the beauty of quaint watercolour paintings of the coast, and she lets Mapi rave about charcoal and graphite and oils as if she understands what is so special about the varying media.

She knows she is only here today because the art is about sports. The gallery seems almost reluctant to allow the athletes in, worried they have brought with them their football boots and cones to dribble around, but it would be bad practice to prohibit the muses from the collection. She isn’t an idiot, though, and she knows that no amount of forced reading about the artist and other sophisticated matters will slip her seamlessly into the crowd.

There are lots of people; people she has never heard of, but make it clear they are far superior to her by the way in which their eyes politely drop to the tattoos inked onto her calloused hands. Their skin is soft, accustomed to the stems of crystal champagne flutes, and the drawings that hold so much personal meaning to the footballer are scrutinised to the point of silent… offence.

So much for appreciators of art, she thinks to herself, counting down the minutes until it is acceptable for her to leave.

With a huff and a vow to never – no matter how much she earns – forget where she has come from, Alexia staggers, uncomfortable in these particular heels, towards the painting she deems easiest to understand.

It is the largest in the room: deep, crimson reds on top of familiar greens, streaks of gold falling out of a ponytail.

Call Alexia egotistical, but anyone would be drawn to a painting of themselves.

The artist has done a good job, she guesses, not entirely sure if there is a deeper meaning behind the grass stains on her socks or the crumpled shading of her Spain jersey. It is a little creepy that someone she does not know has captured her likeness so expertly, so practised.

“The nose isn’t quite right,” a voice says beside her.

Alexia turns in surprise, amused enough by the stranger’s observation to examine her painted face, eyes not drawn from how majestic her image is beginning to seem. She sees no obvious issue, and so she replies, “I think it’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

She is still staring at herself, now impressed by the grandeur of the painting; its size, its quality. “Well, I am unsure how someone painted me so accurately when I was never called in for a… I don’t know, a consultation? And it seems a little weird to me that my hair is loose, because I tend to slick it back so it doesn’t fall out of my ponytail, and, you know, I always have something written on my boots, but otherwise, it’s fine. I doubt anyone here has ever watched a football match, so none of this will matter to them.”

“It doesn’t bother you that someone might pay millions for a painting that you have deemed not-quite-right?”

The voice is somewhat too interested, and suddenly Alexia swivels around to face its owner properly, worried she has spoken her mind to a journalist.

“Those millions go to a charity that will improve women’s sports every–”

You are definitely not a journalist, although once, when art really wasn’t paying, you had off-handedly typed out a few articles for one of the bigger galleries.

Alexia knows you are not a journalist because you are dressed to be in front of the cameras, not behind them.

Your hands hang by your sides, but in a rather unnatural manner as though you are itching to do something else, and she is briefly overcome by the horror that you seem elegant enough to be a potential buyer. Has she put you off?

“Oh,” you interrupt, “don’t be so profound. Sometimes you footballers sound like change-making machines.”

“There is change to be made,” she responds indignantly.

“Hence the exhibition,” you allow with a little smirk, nodding towards the rest of the room. Although the biggest of the collection, you had asked for your painting to be displayed in the corner; a filter, in a sense, to ensure no one throws money at the largest thing in the room just because they can. “It creeps you out to be painted?”

The question is curious, but Alexia no longer feels like she has been caged in an interrogation room.

She thinks about her answer for a moment, torn between returning to gaze at the expanse of the scene in front of her or staring at you, wondering if you count as one of the works of art on display.

“I have never met the artist,” she explains neutrally. You laugh, and it sounds infused with champagne and nervousness. “What? It’s like having a stalker. An extremely talented, creative stalker, but someone who studies me in secret nonetheless.”

“No, I understand. She must have researched you until the ends of the Earth.”

“The artist is a woman?” She isn’t sure she is surprised, but she asks you anyway, wanting to anchor you to the spot.

“Alexia, this is an exhibition for women’s sports.” Your point is valid, but you have said her name and she is far more intrigued by the way that had sounded to praise you for your intelligence. You let out an airy breath and click your tongue. “I’d even say, given by the way she has painted you from the back, that the artist fancies you.”

“It’s the squats,” she easily replies with a giggle. “Who is the artist?”

You take a step towards her, the sharp points of your heels clacking against the concrete floor. She follows your index finger to the white plaque beside the canvas, reading the name written in small, black letters.

“I haven’t heard of her.”

Alexia sounds so thoughtful that you have to hide your smile behind your palm, coughing to provide an excuse for the action.

“Because you’ve heard of quite a few artists, haven’t you?”

“I know the main four.”

“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

“No.”

Again, you laugh, and it is melodious and rich and Alexia wants to hear it for the rest of her life. Which is not normal, she tells herself, because you are some loaded stranger and she is only here for another hour before she can escape back to the pitch and her teammates who like her tattoos and admire her and respect her hard work without seeing her as some tacky social-climber who scrounged an invite to an area of society where she is institutionally unwanted.

“Picasso,” she then offers, rather petulantly, looking at you with a childish frown. In her head, she estimates the distance between your bodies, noticing how you have not returned to your original position.

“Ah, well done. He’s quite niche.” She doesn’t appreciate the teasing, and so she steps sideways to… put a stop to it somehow. Obviously, the plan had never truly been formulated, and it comes across as a half-lunge to push you away, but then you are swinging your arms as though the conversation is boring you and she desperately wishes you’d stay put.

“What do you think about the painting?” she fires into the shortened space between you, the question wrapping around you like a rope that ties you to the spot.

“It’s boring.” She scoffs, because after all, it is a painting of her. “The poor artist must have been tortured by the task, having to force her eyes to stay open while watching football matches.”

And if Alexia were not so distracted by the way your swinging hand has begun to brush against her own, she would probably catch you out there and then.

(But your touch is electric and she is otherwise engaged.)

“Like, come on, can’t the sports photographers just get their pictures blown up? No one needs such an outrageously huge portrait of Alexia Putellas in their home, or stadium, or whatever. I reckon the artist is now regretting the angle she painted from, anyway, in case some pervert with more money than sense bids for it and hangs it up in his bedroom.”

“Bedroom?”

The tips of Alexia’s ears go red, a stark contrast to the expensive silver hoops she sports, and you stop your fidgeting, hand resting on top of hers – perhaps unintentionally – as her misunderstanding wedges an awkward pause into the middle of your rant.

“Sorry,” you apologise, “that was probably not the best thing to say, considering it’s a painting of you.”

Alexia runs through what you have said, hoping her subconscious has caught it while her mind was preoccupied with what your sexual orientation might be. “Why have you come here if you are so against the principle of it?”

“I was required to,” you explain, through half-gritted teeth and a jaw that tenses with leftover annoyance from a conversation you had with the coordinator.

Seizing the opportunity to get a humorous punch back, Alexia quickly fumbles out a, “someone’s important.”

She’d celebrate her victory over you, the way you blush in embarrassment, if you hadn’t started anxiously playing with her fingers. Suddenly, the air that bridges the gap between you is set alight and Alexia stares at where you are connected.

You hastily pull away. “Sorry,” you say for a second time. “I have to sell this, and I’m nervous.”

“Sell wh– The painting?”

“No, Alexia, I’ve been sent by Real Madrid to hold you hostage so I have to sell this act.” Briefly, fear washes over the footballer’s face, tanned skin paling at the idea that you have a weapon concealed in the satin folds of your dress. Then, your hand makes a decisive movement and your fingers are intertwining with hers before she can run to safety. “I thought it was best to lure you in by flirting with you.”

“You’ve been… flirting with me?”

“God, imagine if I actually were here to kidnap you.” You hold up your joined hands so that she can see for herself. “Is your weakness women who bully you?”

She blushes again, unsure how to handle what you have insinuated.

Alexia grasps onto what little dignity remains and straightens herself, shoulders rolling back as she emulates the confidence she has been painted with. “Only pretty women,” she drawls.

She is about to use whichever line appears in her mind first, completely unashamed by it because she has guessed you would tease her no matter what leaves her mouth, but some evil, cruel person clinks a small fork against their glass, clearing their throat, and your hands quickly return to your body, your attention drawn away from the conversation.

“Thank you all for coming,” announces the event coordinator, clearly gearing up for a speech. “There will be time for more chatting later, but I cannot resist showing off our most talented artist any longer.”

You roll your eyes. The expression is directed at Alexia, who chuckles privately, sunshine blooming in her chest that you have spared a silent comment just for her.

“Y/n, darling, where are you?”

An authoritative gaze searches through the crowd and lands on you.

The dots connect, Alexia begins to feel like an idiot, and you are sashaying away before she can ask you to stay.

#woso #woso x reader #randombush3 #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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pierregazly · 8 months

Text

you make loving fun ꨄ pierre gasly smau

pierre gasly x fem!russell!reader

in which pierre has made it obvious he worships the ground his fiancé walks on, but her brother just has to make it clear he can fight if he needs to.

ynrussell has posted a story

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt, and others

replies

pierregasly je t'aime mon chérie 🤍

georgerussell63 you better be sleeping in different beds. and the food better be fully cooked

ynrussell we've been engaged for 9 months. ynrussell and it's a fucking croissant it's obviously fully cooked you dolt

pierregasly

tagged ynrussell

liked by ynrussell, charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, and 650,093 others

pierregasly what a great winter break with my favourite person! time to get back to work 💪😈

view all 3,209 comments

ynrussell i love youuuu

ynrussell thanks for massaging my sore ankles after :(

liked by pierregasly

username they are literally so CUTE

username i want to be ynrussell so bad... like she's so pretty and pierre brings her EVERYWHERE

georgerussell63 this doesn't seem like a safe date option

georgerussell63 my sister better be in one piece by the time you finally return her home

ynrussell i am a grown woman??? i am not being returned home??? what is WRONG with you pierregasly i think i'll keep her actually, sorry mate!

username do you guys think george is serious or is he just playing a joke

username he comments on EVERY single one of their posts... my mans gonna fuck pierre up if he ever steps out of line frfr

liked by georgerussell63

ynrussell

tagged pierregasly

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 46,209 others

ynrussell a special happy birthday to the king of my heart 🫶🏻 one year closer to 30 handsome!!!

view 306 comments

username happy birthday pierregasly!!!!!!

charles_leclerc 🥳🥳🥳

pierregasly do you want to fight??? one year closer to 30???

georgerussell63 i've got this ynrussell, don't threaten my sister or it's game over

pierregasly je t'aime 🤍

georgerussell63 is there a video of pierre getting his face shoved into the cake? i'll pay good money for it

username george omg

username LMAOOOO pleaaaase george is ruthless does he even like his future brother in law

georgerussell63 no. happy birthday pierregasly.

username why is no one talking about how he's looking at her in that second photo???? the pure love??? im gonna cry i hate that i love them

username the 😭 king 😭 of 😭 my 😭 heart 😭

ynrussell

tagged carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, and 12 others

liked by pierregasly, georgerussell63, alexandrasaintmleux, and 52,951 others

ynrussell spoiled absolutely rotten by all the wonderful women in my life this weekend, thank you all for making my bridal shower so special 🫶🏻 (and an extra special thank you to my best friend for the beautiful present he dropped off for me in the middle of it all)

view all 902 comments

carmenmmundt had so much fun celebrating the beautiful bride to be!!

username it makes my heart so full that carmen's planned so much of ynrussell's pre-wedding stuff, she has to be in the wedding party omg

username do we think george is one of pierre's groomsmen???

username if pierre doesn't want to die on his wedding day i'd hope so lol

georgerussell63 i hope pierregasly didn't ruin your special day by showing up. so happy to see how overjoyed you were in all the photos 💗

ynrussell pls stop harassing my fiancé. love you georgie.

username i literally cannot WAIT for their wedding, i just know pierre is going to go all out to make sure ynrussell is the happiest bride in the world (or george will get his ass)

pierregasly i stand by what i said, prettiest flowers for my prettiest flower 💐

georgerussell63

tagged ynrussell

liked by ynrussell, pierregasly, carmenmmundt, and 879,092 others

georgerussell63 can't believe the little girl who used to make me zip up her raincoat on the way to school is getting married tomorrow. honoured to be apart of your special day. and even though i mention it 14 times in my speech, pierregasly i know where you live and i will hurt you if you ever hurt her.

view all 2,311 comments

ynrussell 🥺🥺

ynrussell i'm going to cry. love you always georgie 🥺

username the picture of him zipping up her coat i'm going to cry... my fav brother/sister duo HONESTLY

username i just know this man would get away with murder for her if he had to

username pierre would not stand a chance against george

username bestie be so fucking for real, george's skinny ass ankles wouldn't stand a chance against my man pierre

carmenmmundt i think you've made enough threats by now?

liked by pierregasly, ynrussell, and 63 others

pierregasly may as well make it 15 times, i just dont think 14 is enough little brother

georgerussell63 do NOT call me that

pierregasly and yngasly

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, alpinef1team, and 1,673,942 others

pierregasly i am truly the luckiest man in the world to finally be able to call myself your husband. the tears were worth seeing you in the most beautiful dress, on the most beautiful day. i will hold my vows until the day i die. je t'aime, i love you.

view all 3,564 comments

username omg he cried!!!!!!

username i KNEW IT i knew pierre would be a crier my man's looks like he would be

username do we think george made him cry

username girl dont be delulu i'd be crying too if yngasly was about to be my wife

georgerussell63 i have a video of you crying. don't act up.

pierregasly wouldn't count on it lil bro. username pierre may get beat up without it even involving yngasly as this rate

yngasly can't believe i bagged myself such a looker

yngasly i love you mr. gasly

pierregasly i love you mrs. gasly

honestly this was one of those one's that i started, imagined myself in this position and then basically HAD to finish it. thank you to the lovely person who requested a russell!sister!reader who is engaged to pierre, who constantly get's threatened by george. i hope you all loved it!!

my requests are open

taglist:

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @sarahedwards16 @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios

if your name is struck through it wouldn't let me tag you! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist/if you're missing from it :)

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #f1 x reader #pierre gasly x female reader #f1 social media au #pierre gasly smau #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x you #smau #my writing #my smau

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inuyashaluver · 29 days

Note

can you write a jessie x hockey!r, where r gets into a fight during one of her games and jessie is watching from the stands with some of the chelsea players? thx

cheeky - jessie fleming

jessie fleming x reader

description: in which your girlfriend brings her friends to her cheeky girlfriend’s game

warnings: jessie still plays for chelsea!! let’s pretend ucla offers women’s hockey 🫠 swearing, mentions of a fight, suggestive

a/n: you guys don’t understand how much this request has infiltrated my tiny brain, thank you you so so much, my love, enjoyyyyy

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, jessie were quite literally some of the nicest people alive. every time someone was around the two of you for either a short or long time, they came out feeling lighter, happier and all round just more positive.

you and jessie just radiated love, a special bond between the two of you that was just undeniably beautiful.

—

you and jessie met at a college party years ago. you both went to ucla yet never crossed paths until this party. you weren’t really a party goer and neither was jessie, you both found refuge in the backyard of the house you were at.

both of your friend groups had unknowingly ditched you and you both wanted some air, away from all the drunk frat boys and sorority girls.

“sorry, do you mind if i sit here?” you ask the brunette where she sat on a small bench. her head snapped up from her phone at hearing a familiar accent. canadian.

“oh, yeah, go ahead!” jessie stutters, scooching over a little and patting the spot next to her. you smile at her gratefully, sitting down with an exaggerated huff.

jessie lets out a laugh when you sat, both of you looking at each other with bright smiles. you both thought the other was breathtakingly gorgeous, feeling like the party was a little worth it at this point.

“you sick of seeing people basically fucking each other everywhere too?” you ask her with a shake of your head, your eyes falling on a couple making out in a way that should definitely be behind a closed door.

jessie chuckles, looking down at the cup in her hand and nodding while taking a sip of it. “that and my friends ditched me” she rolls her eyes, you nudge her shoulder with yours, “mine too, don’t worry” you grin, making her return one shyly.

“i’m (y/n) by the way” jessie smiles, repeating the name in her head that she would surely never forget.

“jessie” you smile at her, pink cheeks a little evident on the both of you when you made eye contact again.

“sorry if this is weird but are you from canada?” jessie asks nervously, your eyes widen comically, your face brightening at the girl's question.

you didn’t really have many friends from back home who came to the states for college. sure there was a bunch of canadian girls at college but none of them were this pretty. or this easy to talk to.

“i am! don’t tell me you are too?” you question, jessie smiled at your excitement, her heart beating quickly at your glistening eyes. she nods, making you start rambling with where she was from.

you both continued to chat and it was scary how much you had in common.

the conversation was full of laughter, shared jokes and most definitely a shared attraction. “so, jessie, what do you do besides being an environmental warrior?” you say cheekily, the girl scoffs, slapping your thigh gently and rolling her eyes,

“i play soccer” she mocks, you give her an impressed smile as she explained how good she really was, “mhm, i should come and watch you sometime, superstar?” you flirt, giving her a charming smile that had butterflies swarming in her stomach.

you’d both gone far from friendly conversation, the flirting taking over after about 2 hours of you familiarising yourself with each other.

“yeah, maybe you should, and you? miss number solver?” she teases back, referring to you doing an accounting degree.

“i play hockey” you move a little so you could face her better and she does the same, although, her face has a shit eating grin on it.

“what’s so funny?” you narrow your eyes at her, “you’re so canadian” she laughs, you shake your head as she throws her head back in laughter, clearly enjoying how you’re not even defending yourself.

she encourages you to talk about your sport and to say she fell in love with you there was an understatement. you spoke with so much passion she really loved to see and hear it.

you also admit you fell in love with her when she talked about her sport, but even more with how intently she was listening to you, soaking in every word you said and clarifying things she didn’t understand.

you both felt something bubbling under the surface as you talked, so much so, when the party started to filter out, she asked if you wanted to get some ice cream and who were you to decline?

the teasing and the flirting throughout the whole night was so unbearable, you asked her out on a date without a second thought, smiling brightly when she accepted without any hesitation.

you both began to date after a few months, becoming one of the ‘it couples’ around campus when everyone could truly tell how much you were in love with each other.

you went to each other’s games with bright, adoring smiles, wearing each other’s jerseys with pride.

you had study dates together, most of the time getting distracted but neither part was complaining.

you were there for each other throughout all the ups and downs, talking and listening to one another for hours and somehow feeling not enough when you were with each other every second of the day.

you’d both established a career before you even graduated college, star athletes in the making in your respected sports.

you’d do anything for each other, so much so you moved with her to england when she signed her contract to chelsea.

—

while jessie played for chelsea, you still continued to play hockey in england also. it was hard being away from home but jessie made it all better.

your continual support for each other offering a sense of security that nothing else could. it also helped that you both represented canada nationally, often getting the opportunity to go home together.

—

the chelsea girls knew you too well, you came to every single game without fail with a bright grin on your face in the ‘fleming’ jersey that was almost worn as much as your own.

“your wife’s here” niamh teases as she warmed up with jessie before a match, the two of you weren’t married, or engaged even, not yet at least but this didn’t stop niamh from wishing you were, knowing how much her best friend adored you.

“where?” jessie grins, stopping all movement and frantically looking for you, niamh directs her head to where you were sitting in the friends and family section and her heart swelled with pride.

you wave at her brightly and she returns it instantly, her face growing warm at the smile you sent her, snapped out of her trance at niamh’s laugh. “such a sap” she smiles, jessie just gives her shoulder a little shove, continuing to warm up.

when the match was over after an easy win, jessie bounded over to you without a second to waste. “hi, baby” you smile as she walked into your arms, the barrier making it a little difficult but you both didn’t care.

“hi, gorgeous” jessie says breathlessly, pulling you into a sweet kiss with her hand on your cheek. you smile against her, your own hand on the side of her neck, your thumb brushing against her skin gently.

“my superstar” you say as you pull away, brushing away some stray hairs from her face before pulling her into a tight hug.

“gotta impress my wag, baby” she says cheekily, kissing your cheek repeatedly to make you giggle, working successfully like it did every time.

“i’m definitely impressed, baby canada” you smile, pressing another quick kiss to her lips as you pulled away slightly.

her hands make her way to your waist, rubbing up and down gently as you chatted, only lasting for a couple of seconds before you ushered her to interact with the fans.

“i’ll see you at home, beautiful” she winks, pecking your lips before running away, shouting a quick “i love you” over her shoulder that you quickly returned before leaving to drive home.

—

you had an upcoming game, an important one at that. you’d been nervous about it all week, jessie frequently having to calm you down so you could breathe. you were the captain, both for this team and the canada team so a lot of pressure fell on your shoulders.

the only reassurance you had was knowing jessie would be there, even inviting some of her teammates to come and watch you since they had the day off.

jessie wasn’t one to miss an opportunity where she got to ogle her talented girlfriend and show you off at the same time so she was extremely excited.

the morning of, let’s just say it was extremely difficult to get you out of the house.

“what if i fuck up?” you whine, turning from the door and walking back to jessie who was watching you from the doorway. “you won’t” she assures, pinching your cheek softly before turning you around and giving you a soft push to the door.

you turn back around, “what if something goes wrong?” you say nervously, “baby, you’ll be fine, we can deal with it” jessie chuckles, you throw your head back in annoyance.

the people who only knew you from hockey would be shocked to know you did this before every game. they’d be shocked to know how soft you were when it came to your girlfriend.

“i don’t want to go” you groan, jessie draws you in by your waist, her arms wrapped around them securely, “baby, you’ll be amazing, like always” jessie says earnestly, her brown eyes looking directly into yours so you knew she wasn’t lying.

“but you don’t know that” you pout, jessie quickly smiling before pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“i’m your girlfriend, i know everything” she says cheekily, pecking your lips a couple of times and managing to pull a small smile out of you.

“you go do your best, that’s all i want from you” she smiles, her hands now cradling your face as your arms wrap around her. “okay” you breathe out, determined.

smiling before pulling her into a breathless kiss that made both of you feel dizzy, sharing a quick i love you before she had to physically push you out of the house, knowing you’d convince her to stay.

—

jessie made her way to the arena in your jersey, your number written neatly tiny on her cheek. she was accompanied by niamh, zećira, aggie and hannah.

to say jessie got teased the entire time was an understatement but she didn’t care, she had no shame with the amount of love she had for you.

when you skated out on the ice with the ‘C’ over your heart, you had no ounce of nervousness at all. a complete contrast from the morning.

the truth is, on the ice, you were ruthless, completely contradicting how you were off the ice.

you carried yourself with complete confidence, expecting nothing but the best. you were a little rough but one of the best players and everyone knew it. you didn’t take any bullshit.

you were strategic, smart and calculated. you knew what you were doing and you were the captain both in this league and nationally for a reason. a team leader without fail. a role model, a borderline legend.

jessie and her friends cheered loudly for you when your name was announced on the loudspeaker. jessie watched as you waved around the arena before locking back in, skating around the ice in preparation for the game.

jessie was on the edge of her seat the entire time watching you, scoring 2 points in a short amount of time. you were playing exceptionally well, jessie’s heart swelled with pride but she was extremely nervous how this one player kept trying to rile you up.

she knew you didn’t take any disrespect and knew this girl was about to get her ass handed to her.

the girl was being overly physical with you and you would counter it every time. she was the other captain and knew she’d get thrown into the box if she tried anything too much. her behaviour was surprising.

but the girl continued, having the nerve to be near you every time with something to say every two seconds.

you’d ignore it, having dealt with people more annoying than this but it flipped when she started talking about jessie. your jessie.

she started with the insults about you until she said, “is your girlfriend some sort of puck bunny?” you fucking lost it.

you dropped your stick and both of you break out into a heated fight. fists flying before you grabbed her by her shirt, slamming her into the glass and spitting out words that we’re definitely not family friendly. jessie’s eyes were so wide in shock, never really seeing you in a fight like this before.

“talk about my girlfriend like that again and i’ll shove the puck down your fucking throat” you exclaim, getting pulled back by the referee and getting told to go to the penalty box.

you send a glare to the girl and she falters almost instantly before you skated to the box. you sat down with a huff, arms crossed over your chest as you watched your team dominate the other.

jessie shook her head while she looked at you, niamh and zećira cheering you on throughout the fight and even more now that you were in the box.

when your ten minutes was up, you played the rest of the game with passion, finishing with an easy and well deserved win. jessie ran down to where the change rooms were, her teammates waiting nearby.

jessie watched as you skated off the ice, catching your breath as you quickened your pace to jessie. her face was etched with worry as you approached, watching as you took off your helmet hastily and took out your mouth guard.

“hey, baby” you say brightly, bounding over and wrapping jessie up in a hug, your face instantly tucked into the crook of her neck, your cold nose brushing against her warm skin.

“for someone that just beat the shit out of someone, you’re very happy” she says amusingly, her arms wrapping around you without hesitation.

“she deserved it, trust me on that” and jessie did. you pull away from her at arms length, a cheesy smile plastered on your face as you looked at her.

“are you okay?” she asked, her voice clearly laced with worry, you nodded, kissing jessie’s cheek tenderly as you drew her a little closer.

“i’m fine, love, especially since my biggest fan is here” you grin, “you should see the other guy” you laugh as jessie slaps your shoulder lightly, “cheeky” she chuckles, pulling you into another tight hug in absolute relief you were okay.

you could tell she was on edge because of the circumstances, the hug telling you everything you needed to know. you hugged her tightly, letting her find solace in you and honestly calming you both down.

you wave over at her teammates when she pulls away and chat with them excitedly. you held onto jessie’s hand the entire time you all chatted, thanking them for coming and watching.

“what does that say on your stick?” niamh questions, you smile, moving your hand to show that you’d written jessie’s name with a little heart next to it on your tape, a tradition for you ever since you’d started dating.

“good luck charm” you grin, both of you getting teased for your bright pink cheeks. you say goodbye to them before they leave, turning back to jessie with a sweet smile. this is the side of you she knew the best. an absolute softie.

before you get changed, you draw jessie into another kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling against her when she whined against your mouth.

you give her an amused expression, seeming as though she was a little riled up about the whole situation. “shut up” she groans, pushing you away by your chest slightly but you came right back, pressing a sweet peck to her lips,

“i didn’t say anything” you mumble against her, squeezing her hips gently before you ran to the change room, wanting to get back home as quick as possible.

let’s just say violence is never the answer but is excusable only for the way your girlfriend reacted to you when you both stepped through the door of your shared apartment.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

_jessflem: you wouldn’t know she beat someone up 10 minutes before this but here we are

view all comments

yourname: so worth it

↳ _jessflem: really was actually

niamhcharles17: your girlfriend’s got a crazy fist on her but is SUCH a softie

↳ yourname: watch it niamhy

↳ _jessflem: biggest softie ever

↳ yourname: you’re supposed to defend me

↳ _jessflem: i love you?

↳ yourname: yeah. whatever. i love you too.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming

647 notes · View notes

frenziedfireworks · 10 months

Text

Book Exchange

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary : You read quite a risque book next to your best friend and the next few days are filled with lots of tension.

CW : SMUT, f!reader, 18+ Characters, Praise/Degradation, fingering (f! receiving), breeding kink, possessive!seb (if u squint), lots of teasing & cheesy petnames

A/N : I thought of this idea a few days ago and have been working hard on it LMAO. I love the game and have such bad brainrot - if anyone has requests for the hogwarts legacy characters.. send them my way <3

Sebastian and you had been close for a long time. I mean with everything you two had gone through it was only plausible. He was your rock, best friend, and maybe.. secret crush. He didn’t need to know about that though! Besides, you would never want to ruin what the two of you had.

“You’re staring. What’s wrong?” Sebastian’s voice took you out of a daydream. You shook your head as the boy raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing. Just was thinking about the potions essay.” Sebastian groaned, throwing his face into the couch pillow.

“Don’t remind me. This is supposed to be our break, you know.”

He was right. For it being Christmas break it didn’t feel as much. All of your professors were going overboard with the homework as if a few weeks off would make your brain go smooth. You had barely any time to read or venture around with the looming thought of essays.

“It is quite tedious. I don’t get why they continue to add even more work.”

“Beats me. I think they just like to watch us suffer. Either way, I still don’t like them. I’m taking a nap.” Sebastian adjusted himself over the couch, laying his legs across your lap. You smiled as you rested your hands on his limbs, looking at his relaxed face. He was quite beautiful when he wasn’t talking himself up or making snarky remarks. Not that you would tell him that, you would never hear the end of it.

‘Does dear Y/N really think I’m beautiful? Am I like your little swan, my love’

You shuddered at the thought and rolled your eyes. He would. With this time alone, or more so, without Seb bothering you to death you looked around and took out your book. Nobody would catch you this late and it wouldn’t hurt to read.. It made you nervous thinking about if Sebastian woke up and caught you with such a scandalous book but you couldn’t help yourself. You had always secretly loved dirty literature. You’d go into a quaint bookshop where your friend, Agatha, had a hidden section for women like you. The scandalous and degenerative novels.

His fingers trailed down her bodice, lips making their way down her neck. Their breaths combined as he yanked at the last remaining garments.

You held your breath. You knew you were finally getting to the good part.

“Darling, you are ravishing. Look at you, such a smart and pretty girl, open all for me..” His hands circled her neck, pulling her ever closer. “Say it. Go on.” She shuddered at his domineering voice.

“Merlin’s beard.” Sebastian grumbled as he adjusted his back.

You had almost screamed, shuffling your book into your bag. Sebastian was just as shocked, holding his chest as if he had just had a heart attack.

“I think I’ve just died. What in the world did you jump for?” Sebastian breathed out, hand rubbing at his eyes.

You calmed yourself, rubbing soothing circles into his leg.

“Sorry. You moving scared me, I was out of it.” You gave him a small smile hoping that he wouldn’t pry anymore in his sleepy state. He just hummed and closed his eyes.

“Right. Try not to jump next time I wake up, yeah?” A half smirk made his way onto his face. You only nodded, continuing to fidget for the next few minutes. Maybe reading improper literature in the halls wasn’t your best idea.

—

It had been a few days since that incident and you and Sebastian were out and about. He had decided that going on a walk would ‘clear your minds’ before going back to the hell that was classwork. You had to admit that seeing his nose and cheeks tinge with a lovely shade of red was worth freezing your ass off.

“It’s pretty isn’t it?” Sebastian’s voice cut through the silence, his eyes wandering across the fields of snow. It was gorgeous but you couldn’t help but think that your view of him was much more of a sight.

“It is.” You murmured, watching as he turned to meet your eyes. He gave you a small smile, one he reserved for moments like these. The calm and kind Sebastian, the unprotected one that he let almost no one see. You liked this Sebastian. It made you feel special. He let you in to see his vulnerabilities and you felt like you could melt away in them.

“It’s getting late, you know. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble getting back after curfew.” His tall frame ushered behind you and weaved his arm around your chest. His head laid against yours and you swore Medusa had turned you to stone. You took a few slow breaths trying to calm your racing heart and finally spoke.

“A few more minutes couldn’t hurt Seb.”

His lips lingered by your ear and his scent engulfed you.

“Trying to get us in trouble? Such a naughty girl.”

Your whole body lit up in flames. Sebastian was a flirt but he had never said something so brazen before. There was no way in hell he was doing that on purpose, he had to be trying to get a rise out of you or something.

“Oh shut up. You’re one to talk.” Your voice cracked and suddenly your shoes looked very interesting.

“Heh. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Let’s get back.” Sebastian smacked your back and began walking away without a second word. Your mouth was almost on the ground. You would kill him if he didn’t kill you with his comments first.

—

Things had turned back to normal after your little moment. Well as normal as it could be. The comments he made still lived in the back of your head and got louder as you tried to sleep at night.

You had tossed and turned in bed for what felt like hours, dirty thoughts of Sebastian plaguing away. His large and calloused hands making their way down your body. His broad chest caging you against the bed as his fingers yanked at your undergarments. God was it insufferable. You finally got up and looked around the room for your bag. You desperately needed release or something to take your mind off the impurities of Sebastian.

Perfect.

Your hand pulled at your book and you settled down into bed again. It couldn’t hurt to finish the novel and at least there was no prying eyes while you were alone.

—

There was a bang against the door waking you up from your much needed sleep. You raised your head from the comfort of your pillows with a loud groan hoping it was enough to get whoever it was to go away.

“Sebastian has been annoying the shit out of me for hours, Y/N. I cannot take him for much longer and he has been begging for you. Can you please come take care of your boyfriend?” Imelda’s voice echoed through the dorm halls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend!” You moaned as you got up to get dressed. Leave it to Sebastian to keep you up all night and wake you up early.

“Yeah and I’m not good at Quidditch! Just keep him out of my sight!” She barged away, a few profanities leaving her mouth.

You begrudgingly made your way through the halls of the common room to be met with the puppy dog eyes of your best friend.

“Y/N finally! I was starting to think you’d never wake up!” Sebastian automatically took your arm in his and led you over to one of the empty couches.

“Wish I hadn’t. Wouldn’t have to deal with your ugly face then.” Sebastian mocked offense and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say. I have a busy day planned for us.”

The boy went over his need for a few potion ingredients, something about losing a bet with Ominis and how you would accompany him to Hogsmeade. You just nodded along, half asleep as he continued to dawdle.

“So then when I get that all done- Y/N are you even listening to me?” His hand shook at your form and you rubbed at your eyes.

“Yeah, your potion for Ominis and everything. I got it Seb. Let’s just get it over with.” You stretched and motioned for him to get walking.

“Jeez, someone didn’t sleep well. Nothing a few butterbeers can’t cure though.”

—

Half of the day you spent standing behind as Sebastian bought things. He even went and bought a few new sweaters with your ‘much needed approval’ as he put it. It was quite funny seeing him strike a pose or two whenever he tried on a new outfit. In your mind though Sebastian was handsome enough to pull off a garbage bag if he wanted to.

“Now we can go get those much earned butterbeers.” His cheery disposition made you grin as he tugged you along to the Three Broomsticks. You two quickly made your way over to ‘your table’.

“Oh if it isn’t trouble. I was starting to miss you two.” Sirona plopped down two butterbeers and grinned. “On the house today.” She walked away as you both spouted your thanks and got to drinking.

“Today wasn’t too bad was it?” Sebastian asked.

His hair was a bit askew and his new green sweater made his eyes blend with the caramel color of the drink. He was absolutely breathtaking.

“Yeah, not too shabby. You like pulling me around?” You joked. Sebastian’s fingers brushed against yours on the table and he sent you a look you had never seen before.

“Oh trust me there’s a few other things I’d like to pull you into.”

Your mouth went agape and it felt like you had just walked across hot coals.

“You-”

Sirona interrupted the two of you with a smack to the table.

“The two of you best leave, have to close early I’m afraid. One of my dear friends fell ill.”

Your brain had barely processed the words before the two of you were being shooed out the door and Sebastian was walking you back to the castle.

“She was in a rush. I’ve never seen her so concerned. I hope everything will be alright.” Sebastian filled the empty void with words but you couldn’t pay attention. The heat along your core still flamed as you took each step. How much longer was he going to keep up this charade?

—

You were having a major sense of deja-vu. Your eyes circled the drapes of your bed as your thoughts ran wild with Sebastian. Again. A plan had to be made because there was no way you could continue to be in his presence with the comments and tension. Would you tell him your feelings? No. Could you flirt back? Not to save your life. Whatever could you do.. You punched your pillow in defeat and got up looking for your book. You rummaged through your bag when something caught your eye. There was a book in there that hadn’t belonged to you. You brought it into the light and your soul left your body.

It was a scandalous novel. A new one that you had not yet read or bought. You peeled the cover open and a card dropped into your lap.

‘You don’t need to read these sinful books to get what you’re looking for. Although it was quite hot to see you do such a lewd thing right in front of me. You’ve got balls. Enjoy this one, yeah? Maybe we can even act it out once you’re done.’

If it was possible to die of embarrassment you would already be ten feet underground. Sebastian had caught you that night and enjoyed it. Who knew how long he had sat there and watched you squirm as you read the words. Not only that but he had the gall to buy you another and write such a cheeky note. Your body hummed with electricity at the thought of reenacting such stories with Sebastian.

You had a book to read.

—

You practically ran down the corridor stairs in the morning. You had come up with a perfect plan to corner him in his own game. Your mouth formed into a devious grin as you spotted Sebastian. Slowly, you approached him and ran your finger over the back of his neck. His eyes raised and his cheeks were dusted with a sheen of rose. You gave him a casual smile and sat down.

“Morning Seb. Any plans for today?” You asked as you laid your legs across his lap and stretched your back revealing just a tiny bit of your stomach. His grip on your thighs got just a tad tighter.

“I-Uh no. You have anything in mind?”

“Quite a few things actually. You game?” You rubbed at his hand, attempting to connect the dots with his freckles. You could hear his uneven breathing from the other side of the couch and that only fed into your newfound confidence. You tapped against his hand again.

“I said are you game or not?” Your voice commanded and his hues widened like saucers.

“Of course. When would I not be?” He exasperated and dug his nails harder into your flesh.

“Mm.. good boy. That’s what I thought. Come on then.” You couldn’t help but chuckle as you heard the tiny gasp leave his mouth. It wasn’t even seconds before he was in tow following you like a mother hen.

You cackled silently to yourself when you made your way to the front door of the Great Hall and turned. Sebastian had never looked so confused nor dissatisfied in his life.

“I’m starving!” You made your way down to your usual seats and watched as his sulky attitude got worse. His grip on his poor spoon would soon break it if he wasn’t careful.

“Your plans are to eat? That’s it?” His voice was deep and annoyed, dark eyes following the movement of your lips. Seeing him like this made you uncomfortable. Not in a bad way of course, but more so extremely turned on.

“Yeah? Like I said I was hungry. Thought we could go out and play gobstones-“

“You think you’re fucking funny?” His grip was suddenly not on the spoon but your shoulder, lips lingering on your ear.

“I think I’m fucking hilarious.” You whispered under your breath. That was obviously the wrong move because he ripped at your shoulder, practically dragging you out of the hall.

“Fucking brat. Think you’re funny. I’ll show you fucking funny.” Sebastian grumbled as he shoveled you down the Undercroft stairs. Your core clenched at his snide remark and part of you hoped that he really was angry. Maybe he would finally stop dancing around the subject of you two.

Sebastian’s hand pushed you against a pillar as the other slammed next to your head. He had perfectly sandwiched you beneath him, his dark eyes watching your every move.

“Not talking much anymore, are you?” His breath danced against your face, nose nudging against yours.

“Kiss me already.” You groaned and Sebastian took action. His mouth was everywhere at once. Dangerous kisses were pressed against your neck and jawline, his teeth rubbing against the flesh enough to leave red marks. He moved slowly as if you were prey, his eyes watching the way you squirmed under his gaze.

“You’re lucky I want to kiss you. I wouldn’t be giving you it so easily otherwise.” His face melted into your own, tongue prodding its way into your cavern. His hands roamed your body earnestly pulling at almost anything he could touch. Your whole body was jolting from the little touches, feeling as though he had made you anew.

“Seb-” You moaned as his hands ran beneath your shirt. It was tantalizing the way he rubbed the plush of your stomach, eyes pleading you to take off the garment. You could only nod in consent before he had thrown it halfway across the room. His hues took your form in, tongue wetting his lips.

“You’re fucking beautiful. I’m going to ruin you.” His hands worked at the hooks of your bra and he raised an eyebrow in confirmation. You don’t know where the sudden confidence came surging from but you moved his hands and trailed it slowly down your body. Part of you wanted to hide but it was too late for that. He had already seen you and besides, you had been imagining this for quite some time.

“God. Look at you.” Sebastian shoveled his hair back and dove in. His lips circled your nipple, teeth tugging at it just enough to make you yap.

“Fuck! Sebastian please.” Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to lap and massage your tits. He looked absolutely sinful making eye contact with you from such an angle.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” His hand came down to slap your tit and an equally evil grin appeared as he heard your moan.

“P-Please. Put your hands on me.” Wanton moans passed your lips as he continued to indulge in his pleasures.

“My hands are already on you. See?” You could practically see his ego soaring as he kneaded your breasts.

“More.”

“More? Aren’t you demanding?” Sebastian mocked as his fingers trailed your waistband. He pulled at the soft material and danced on a fine line of barely touching you. He was slow and agonizing as he pulled at the buttons of your skirt, continuously glancing to watch your reactions.

“Sebastian, please. I need you.” Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt getting even more agitated by the second. His hands swatted yours away and quickly stripped away the cloth.

“You’re a greedy little thing. I swear I could’ve thought you were teasing me not even ten minutes ago. Now I have you pliant and needy. Should I really give you what you want?”

Your hands splayed against his bare chest and there was nothing more you wanted to do than to be one with him. A sudden primal desire to be as close as humanly possible and feel his muscles convulse against you. You knew that Sebastian wanted to hear you beg and you would give him whatever he wanted.

“Please. I’m begging you. I’ll be good.” You choked back a moan as Sebastian ripped your outfit off at the seams. Your underwear and skirt pulled away in one swift move and his hands rubbed deliciously at your inner thighs.

“Gonna be my good girl, Y/N? Gonna give me what I’ve been craving?” Sebastian hovered his hand over your core for a few seconds to let his words seep in. Your body yearned for his touch and you couldn’t help the way you bucked into him.

“Yes! I’ll be your good girl.” You practically yelled as his fingers finally dipped through your folds. He hummed in response and leaned back in to kiss you. His teasing had come to a stop when you felt his first digit slowly push into your heat.

“Oh fuck!” Your head fell against the pillar and your arms shook against his back.

“You’re so fucking tight. I can’t wait to be inside of you.” Sebastian began plunging in and out, his pace brutal. You had thanked Merlin that Ominis was busy because you were sure anyone coming near the Undercroft entrance could hear your screams. You could feel the string in your stomach becoming tighter by the second and Sebastian noticed too. He picked up the pace and added another digit making your eyes cross.

“Who makes you feel like this?” Sebastian grunted as his thumb rubbed at your nub pushing you even closer to the edge. Your hands gripped to his form for dear life as your orgasm finally hit.

“You! Fucking hell. Sebastian, all you!” Your head rested against his shoulder as he continued to pump his fingers in and out to prolong your high.

He gave you a few seconds before withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his lips. If you hadn’t just came you were sure you would’ve from the sight alone.

“You’re ridiculous.” You whispered as he pushed his boxers down and his hard cock slapped against his stomach. The sight alone made you drool.

“It’s all your fault.” Sebastian chuckled and swiped his fingers across your slit. You jolted in his hold and watched him in a trance as he used your slick to pump his cock. You had never seen a more erotic view in your life.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you now. Okay?” Sebastian’s words knocked any air out of your lungs. He was so vulgar and yet you felt yourself convulsing around nothing, wishing for nothing more than to be pummeled by the man.

A small please passed your lips before he was frenzied. He snapped his hips into yours, not even waiting for you to adjust as he got to work. It felt as if you were a rag doll being thrown around with the animalistic pace he set. Every spot within you was on fire and if it kept it up you would explode.

“F-Fuck Seb! So good.” Your back knocked against the pillar as he groaned.

“Fuck yeah. Only I can make you feel like this.” His grip was sure to leave bruises. Not that you really minded. If anything it only added to your pleasure.

“I can feel you tightening princess. Is the little slut gonna cum again?” His wicked words made you gasp and lose your composure. Your body shook as you came, Sebastian still impaling you on his cock in search for his high. You could tell he was close from his unintelligible groans and praises.

“Fuck! Good girl. Take it.” Sebastian’s dark eyes closed shut as he leaned his head onto you. His hot seed filled you up and the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing.

Sebastian pulled out of your wet heat, both of you whining in the process. His eyes shot up to yours and he grinned.

“That was so fucking good. I’ve wanted that for so long.”

You could only laugh and nod in agreement.

“Me too. Does that mean we’re done with the charade of being best friends?” You looked around the room for your top as he hummed.

“Yeah. Reckon my girlfriend deserves a proper date now.��

“I would sure hope so after getting my brains fucked out!”

Laughter filled the Undercroft as the two of you redressed. Maybe you would read more dirty literature in the halls if it led to this.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader smut #sebastian sallow x mc

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bunicate · 4 months

Note

omgeee mimi you hafta to mister yang hes such a icky and pervy old man! 💗💗 >w< every time you wear a tiny skirt he gets sooooooo sooo hard hes supposed to be your father figure but he wants to see your tiny cute pussy hehe 💗💗 he would cheat on his wife if he had one to be with a cutie younger girl (>/////<) 💗💗 !!!!!

- 🍄

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. age gap. me not making any sense below cuz I’m deeply in luv with weltie.

mister yang believed himself to be an irredeemable man. he’s taking advantage of your pure young heart . . he knows he’s a father figure of some sort and his desire to protect you birthed something much more forbidden. instead, welt found himself conjuring up thoughts of your naked body — images floating around like clouds in his mind.

pretty, doe eyes, plump trembling lips, the soft timbre of your voice, and your thighs revealed from your tiny skirts all tugged on his heartstrings. you were young enough to be his daughter and you behaved like it too. stubborn, smart, a little bit shy, and thoughtful just like how he’d want her to be, and that furthered his shame.

he painfully remembers such thoughts even when sheathing his cock between the apex of your thighs. even as he uses the flesh until his seed paints the outside of your skin. even while he slaps his fat tip on your clit—rubbing his length all over your sloppy pussy, until you’re begging for your beloved daddie to put it in.

welt knows better than to chase after such young women, specifically ones that idolize him paternally but you make it difficult to keep away. he is not immune to your naivety, your eagerness to please, and that tiny little cunt he can spend hours fucking. your moans, so innocent and docile can send waves of burning pleasure straight to his cock.

especially when you whine out “mr. yang” and he has to coax you into calling him daddie instead.

“I think we are way past the point of you speaking to me so professionally, wouldn’t you agree ?”

he’s reserved, even when fisting your skirt and pumping your limp body up and down his leaky cock. welt draws patterns on your skin, his sanity slowly weakens with each drag of his hips despite appearing the opposite.

he’s been good at being avoidant around you. he’s been able to refrain from touching, only settling on looking but now that you're finally underneath him, petite cunt gaping, his control is no longer within reach.

“daddy —dada” you hiccup in between shallow breaths. the force of his thrusts robbing the air you breathe and you are forced to dig your nails on the wooden desk to keep yourself steady. every probe of his tip rubs your insides stroking the warmth inside of you to flames.

“that’s much better, sweetie . . “ his thumb rubs the sides of your lips collecting the drool escaping.

“how beautiful .” he dips his finger in your mouth and presses down on your tongue. your lips pulled together, puckering around the digit obediently as you begin to suckle.

“daddy is so proud of you. look how good you are for me.” he angles himself to fuck you deeper, your breast jumping with every jerk of hips

“hnn— too much—!” you babble with his appendage still buried in your mouth. your tight cunt puffed and creamed from his cock as you grew restless. welt didn’t slow down, he huffs into the side of your neck,

“It’s okay, i got you. relax for me.”

his other hand reached down to play with your sodden clit.

“papa isn’t done with you yet, I have a pretty pussy to fill.”

welt babbles. he’s a man with infinite wisdom. he’s so mature and so articulate. he has to express how fascinating you are. was this the body of a younger woman? so soft to the touch, so wet and tight ?

he has an analytical mind, it is only natural that your daddie takes his time to caress and suck every inch of you. and he’s unintentionally foul-mouthed. he has a habit of talking too much and describing every detail . he pulls his cock out from between your walls and all he can talk about how amazing it is to see your hole gape from his cock. he’s enamored by your chubby lips being split apart to welcome him.

“your pussy appears to be swollen. . . It seems like it was my doing,” and you can even detect something shy of cockiness in his inflection.

welt zeroes in on every twitch every squelch and he has to describe in vivid detail. even the drip of your cunt from the sound of his deep voice . . he’s so <33

#𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 ⪩⪨ .𖥔 ݁ ˖#weltie ❤︎#𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑏𝑜𝑥 ๑ ꒱ྀི #🍄#i love mister yang so much #i want 2 be his #I love my old man he’s so perfie ugh #mista yang loves a gud girl /wags tail/#tw: daddy kink #welt yang x reader #welt x reader smut #welt yang x reader smut #honkai smut

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usedpidemo · 8 months

Text

Parasailing (Kim Minju & Jo Yuri)

> You're lonely and feel sad because your favorite idols are gone and never upload any pictures in their Instagram. You're really missing them because Minju and Yuri are your favorite underrated ship in Izone. When you decided to drinking alone in tent bar you recognize Minju and Yuri are there having their good time. You're so shy to be at the same place with them and stealing glances. Until you realized that you're drinking with them and told them how you miss them. Because of too much drinking alcohol and being bratty Yuri, she flirt with you and shy Minju try to stop her and after that they are in your place with Yuri kissing you and Minju watching it. being shy but enjoy it. And you fuck bratty Yuri and shy Minju. After that you're kissing their forehead and tell them that your so lucky to be with them and tell them that they are so loveable - @quietfallendemon

—————

There is no other way to put it: you’ve hit rock bottom. You’re down horrendous. It’s a sorry state your family or friends can drag you out of, no matter how hard they try—and that’s if you still have any friends left. In the eyes of randoms, they see a zombie, a soulless husk of a man—one who used to be brimming with life, with nothing but anguish and despair filling his soul now. Each passerby looks on with one of two expressions: concern and pity or apathy and indifference. Some with a little disgust. They’ve got lives to live, obligations to attend to, and some divine purpose given by higher powers to fulfill. So do you, but there’s a difference: you’ve lost the will to live.

Barely functioning, everyday life has turned into a nightmarish hell. Days, then weeks, and eventually months, fly by in a loop. You slog through your office job, receive income, then you carelessly splurge on lavish drinking bursts afterward. Your liver absolutely despises your guts by now. Night after night, you drink away the ceaseless pain hurting your heart more than the alcohol you consume. It’s become too numbing at this point. The morning after, you don’t bother cleaning up the mess you unknowingly made from the day before, especially when you throw up on the floors of your apartment rather than on your toilet.

So it goes. Not a single day passes by without digging your grave a little deeper with your alcohol addiction, but Fridays were particularly special. It’s when you decide that your place shouldn’t bear the brunt of your rampant alcoholism for one day. Instead, after another monotonous shift, you head to your favorite place—your other place of solitude—a tent bar that treats you like their best friend, mainly because you’re their most loyal customer, but otherwise, you enjoy the fresh air, grilled food, and the patrons’ attempts to sing their hearts out—with hilarious results.

Of course, the drinks were also part of the experience. You usually end up passing out quicker compared to every other day.

You’re partially through your first drink when two particularly mesmerizing girls walk in holding hands. Tipsy or not, their beauty immediately captures your attention. Even dressed in all black, they’re shining, like angels descended from heaven to grace this cursed earth, sent to remind people of their higher purpose and walk in them.

Gradually, you’re staring, drooling. Your brain’s in complete shambles, unable to comprehend how divine creatures like them casually walk among mere mortals, partaking in lowly, sinful activities like drinking and hanging out at bars. They take their seats across your table; a perfect position to hold your attention in permanent captivity, without any obstruction.

A waiter approaches the two women, and he should’ve been a distraction, but instead, it becomes a showcase. The girl in the black dress, seated on the left, shoots these playful, childish stares at the waiter, basically flirting with the guy while she stating her order. Her partner is much more reserved, sharing hers in an orderly manner before they’re left to talk with themselves again. The older girl slaps her friend’s shoulder, as if correcting her, which the younger woman simply brushes off with a laugh. From just one interaction, you’re hooked. You had to have her. This night won’t end without their names etched in your head, and if you’re lucky, their number, maybe even more.

Another waiter arrives at your table, bottle in hand, asking if you want a refill, which you absentmindedly decline. You’re drinking in the sight of the two girls, even as they do casual activities while waiting. They’re exchanging conversations, hiding suppressed giggles, but it doesn’t mute the younger woman’s boisterous laughter. It should be a nuisance, but it isn’t; it’s a treat to watch her cheeky, bright personality. Even her friend, whose disposition is a complete contrast, has some charm to her reserved nature, and they bounce off each other seamlessly.

In the midst of this space between you and the girls, someone else is singing karaoke, much to the girls’ amusement. That’s their source of laughter, the very grating voice of that poor soul. Even the older girl’s starting to lighten up, despite repeatedly tapping her friend’s shoulder while she laughs along. Their waiter arrives with their drinks, and they immediately down two glasses each in rapid succession. You’re not even halfway through your first.

“Hey, you think I should try to sing and make these losers second guess about performing next time?” asks the younger girl, staring at the next patron performing on stage.

“Please don’t.” The older woman replies, face flushed bright red from embarrassment. “We shouldn’t make a scene here—”

“C’mon, no one cares. Why are you such a killjoy, Minmin?” she retorts, making a cute pout. Minmin’s dismay is your enjoyment.

“I know you want to sing so bad, Yul. Believe me, you’ll be back on stage soon, but you just have to be patient—”

“Says the loser who hasn’t gotten an acting job, actress!”

You’re amazed Minmin hasn’t tried to physically restrain her—at least, not yet. Instead, she’s dragged along by Yul to the stage so they can perform. The older woman reluctantly follows without any resistance, simply grabbing the mics without any fanfare, not even announcing who they are or what they’ll perform.

The music starts. The girls begin to sing. It’s after the first verse that the pieces begin to come together.

Somehow, this girl, Yul, with her childish attitude, flirty face, and sharp tongue, has the most soulful voice you’ve heard in a very long time. She looks effortless; she runs through each part with minimal strain and her expressions convey the emotion of the ballad very well. Minmin isn’t far off either, but her vocal does not hold a candle to Yul’s. If they were bar singers, you’d be cursing at the earth giving these two unfortunate circumstances, because such talent shouldn’t be constrained to the confines of an open bar. These two are truly angels.

When the song ends, Yul reverts to her mischievous persona, shooting winks and flying kisses at the audience as she walks off the stage, followed by her best friend, shyly bowing at every turn. After returning to their seats, the younger woman’s wearing this prideful, triumphant expression on her lips, basking in the glory, eager to gloat. Minmin’s nervously smiling, still gently bowing at everyone while cutely gesturing with her hands in a plea to make everyone stop.

Then it’s business as usual at the tent bar again. Copious drinking, out of pitch singing, and you mindlessly staring at the girls that it’s outright criminal.

Until the thought finally hits.

“Yul…Minmin…Yuri…Minju,” you silently mouth. Your eyes suddenly widen, and the realization finally dawns on you.

At first, it was a complete coincidence. They looked too similar to be truly them, that it’s a convincing impersonation or face job at best. The real evidence was in their vocals. They sounded too similar, close to a near-perfect impression. You’ve never heard such divine singing in a very long time, and now it's clear why.

Jo Yuri and Kim Minju performed for you.

The day they disappeared just so happened to be the same day your life began to fall apart. While they’re out here living their best lives and enjoying their down time, you were at your lowest, your breaking point. Some part of you understands they bear no blame; it’s fate, an inevitability of any temporary group. Yet, no matter how much you prepared for the end, you couldn’t endure the loss. The other members have successfully transitioned to their new careers, whether it be in new groups or even solo, but those two—Minju and Yuri— essentially went off the radar. They barely posted on Instagram, so you couldn’t even keep up with them on a consistent basis like their former members. Their last shared photos were eight months ago. Minimal social media messages, even fewer magazine shoots or advertisements, and no music, movie, or show to get excited about.

To see them together again not only brings nostalgia, but also revives your sense of purpose again.

Every girl in that group was special, but in your eyes, Minju and Yuri were different. Yuri had her standout vocals, Minju with her divine beauty, but you loved them beyond those traits; you loved everything about them. You promised you’d support their endeavors after disbandment, but so far, there was nothing to support. Their absence from the spotlight hurt you more than it hurt them. The worst part is the realization that you’ll likely never see them after tonight, that you can’t do anything to convince them to further their careers—to do something. After all, you wanted them both to thrive like their other members.

Of course, you can’t approach them casually. You’ll probably melt into a puddle mere steps away. So you whip out your phone and take rapid-fire photos. It’s dangerous, but fuck it, this is a once in a lifetime scene. They’re preoccupied with their drinks and conversation to notice your camera. You gather a gallery that will sustain you for months, even if they disappear from the public eye again. At first, you’re delighted, overjoyed even, but the immediate realization clouds your mood.

You sigh. You put your phone down, staring at the twosome once again, but this time, with a yearning desire. They’re within your grasp. Uncertain of the future, you slowly reach out with your hand, imagining a scenario where you pour your heart out to them—how you missed them so badly, how much their disappearance has affected you, and how you’ll wait for them till eternity, even if realistically, you’ll break long before that no matter how long it takes for them to make a song, be in a movie or show, anything. Sure, this all sounds ridiculous, alarmingly disturbing, and should be shared with a therapist instead of two celebrities, but to you, no one would understand more than Minju and Yuri can.

When you draw your hand back, Minju’s eyes are locked right at yours. She’s gently smiling and waving back. Yuri notices her gesture, recognizes you, and waves along with greater energy. The younger idol giggles at you. She catches you in a moment of weakness, cheeks puffed up and tensely flushed. The two girls exchange a brief glance, Yuri’s eyes alight with a new opportunity to cause more mischief, smirking at her, essentially screaming that no one, not even Minju, can stop her.

Yuri cocks her head to the side, shoots you a wink, a flying kiss, sticks out her tongue; she flirts with a tinge of both cuteness and sexiness that heightens her attraction—and awakens a bit of your lust. Minju facepalms, awkwardly chuckling, wanting no part in this act. You’re left frozen, in awe at how unabashedly coy she is. She was the resident brat, but now she’s taken her friskiness to a whole new level. Proving your point, she pulls the strap of her dress down, teasing, expression mocking, quietly mouthing, “I know you want it.” Just as shocked as you, her friend’s eyes widen, her hand covering her mouth before tapping Yuri’s shoulder, telling her to stop. Surprisingly, she complies obediently, pulls her thin strap back up.

Hopefully, no one else besides you saw that.

Averting their gaze for a moment, you take a moment to let the small interaction sink in. You got more than you bargained for: a serenade, a gallery’s worth of photos, and flirty fanservice from your favorite idols. Perhaps this is what you needed to finally bring yourself out of your self-inflicted funk and back to normalcy. Maybe this is what you really need all along: closure. They won’t be in your life moving forward, but your fond memories of them are always there to look back on, and you’re grateful for the joy they provided you during those difficult times.

When you look back up, Minju and Yuri have disappeared from the table across yours; they’re directly seated right in front of you. They’re carefully watching your every move, Yuri’s expression brazen as ever, constantly searching for opportunities to pick you apart, and Minju, her enabler, despite the light admonitions and warnings, shyly following her junior’s eyes. All it takes is one turn before it spirals into a car crash of disastrous proportions.

Thankfully, you’re not the one to break the ice. “Sup,” says Yuri, casually feigning innocence. Your lips move in the shape of hello, but only air comes out. They’ve seen this reaction from fans hundreds of times.

“Hello,” adds Minju, sweetly smiling, as pure as her brightly lit face. “Did you enjoy our little performance?”

It takes a minute—maybe four—before an answer forms in your head. You’ve seen them from afar, you’ve seen them up close, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine them talking to you on an intimate level. They’re patient, softly giggling over how overwhelmed and speechless you are to respond back. Anyone else in that space would react the same way; you don’t need to move your neck around to feel the jealousy from your fellow patrons. You’re not only carrying your own burdens, but the expectations of others.

“Yeah.” The word comes out natural, without second thought, while your thoughts are focused on them and them alone. Fuck, their skin looks flawless, is your sole noteworthy observation. Even if you had the full capacity to think coherently, you’d end up with this exact same answer.

“We missed performing on stage, so we felt that it would be nice to go up and—” Minju pauses, repeatedly turning to her friend, silently observing you, trying her best to look diplomatic. “Sing a little bit. We were a little nervous, but I’m glad you liked it.”

“Well, why haven’t you done that?” you ask, the nervous smile on your features gradually shifting to a frown.

“Done what?”

Leaning forward, the stare you shoot is sharp, cold. “You haven’t been on Instagram in months. Both of you. The other members have been on TV, they’ve been releasing music, they’ve been doing photoshoots, they’re in commercials. They’re being successful, but you—” You pause, aware of your surroundings, trying your hardest not to make a scene. “Where the hell have you been?”

Both girls’ reactions split down the middle as your temper flares ever slightly. Yuri leans back into her chair, turns to her friend, surprised by the sudden shift in tone, anxious of what happens now. Minju remains calm, gently rubs her hand on hers, reassuring her.

She takes a moment to formulate a response. “It’s been harder than we thought.”

“How come?”

Another pause. Minju sighs pondering the thought. “You have no idea how much we want to perform, you know. Believe us. We really tried. I’ve auditioned for a few big name projects, got a few scripts from some web dramas. They were glorified cameos at best. You don’t know how painful it is to see the news that someone else got the role in those big projects—”

Yuri nods in agreement, equally as dejected. She adds, “They promised me I’d debut soon. They never specified exactly when. They have this boy group I’ve written songs for, they debuted and made two comebacks already with another one lined up in a few months. I’ve written and recorded so many songs that I absolutely want to perform. Waiting this long, I—”

Yuri pauses, then sighs. Her eyes are glassy.

“I don’t even know if I want to do this anymore.”

The revelation pierces through your heart like an arrow. It’s heartbreaking. Unbelievable, hearing it directly from their mouths. You simply cannot believe they’re struggling when everyone else has been able to successfully continue their careers. Even shittier agencies recognize the treasure they have and at least try to make something happen, but this is completely absurd. It sounds too painful to be true.

Only one word can perfectly describe it. “How?”

“We honestly don’t know.” Minju replies, solemn, downtrodden, defeated. “We might just give up, honestly. Our management won’t do anything to help us. Maybe our time in the spotlight is just meant to be short-lived.”

You remember the rumblings from a while back, how Minju was scouted and offered a seven-figure deal to join her other members in Le sserafim. She declined. In retrospect, she could have saved her career and two months’ worth of migraines with what eventually became a disastrous debut. Fuck, even the thought of seeing her with Sakura and Chaewon together in that alternate reality sparks your imagintion.

“You should have taken that deal, Minju. You really should have.” You put it to her straight, almost mocking, very damning, as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

She sighs through the thought, completely despondent. “Yeah. Maybe.”

The mood is cold, grim. Alcohol releases your most intrusive thoughts, no matter how harsh or intimate they sound. That isn’t to say you don’t regret them; you’ll ponder the consequences in the morning, as usual. At the very least, you find common ground with your two favorite idols, drinking it up through life’s challenges as a coping mechanism.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly blurt. “I—I just really miss you both on screen.”

“It’s all right,” adds Minju, trying to form a smile through the pain. Seeing the vulnerability in her eyes makes the gesture even more heartbreaking. “I’m just glad you’re still waiting for us. That anyone still wants us.”

“God, you can’t imagine the jealousy I feel whenever I see the others nowadays and immediately wonder what are you doing. I mean, I don’t hate them, I just—”

“Oh, I understand that feeling very well,” Minju replies, her grin slowly widening, suppressing a chuckle. Yuri takes the bottle on your side to pour a drink on your cup, which she also steals. “We still keep contact and they’re also asking what the fuck are we even doing.”

“Look on the bright side, they don't have time to have fun these days, am I right?” Yuri interrupts, followed by boisterous laughter from her. Minju tries, but gloom gets in the way. You try to laugh, but it hurts to laugh right now, among a multitude of other feelings, particularly, pain, despair, and regret.

“Well, it’s not been fun for me ever since you’ve been gone,” you say.

You slip your phone concealed behind your hand, slide it across the table. The two women smile at what’s on screen; it’s memories from their past. It’s a treasure trove of funny, embarrassing, and endearing captures that border on obsession. If they didn’t know any better, you’d certainly be under a restraining order after seeing the bogus gallery saved on your phone.

“Damn, we looked quite cute,” says Yuri, scrolling between pictures. Their heads inch a little closer, while their free fingers trace around each other’s edges.

“Yeah.” Minju lightly nods. “I’m glad we still have each other, even now.”

The older woman slides the phone back to you. Two pairs of eyes gaze at you, both with piqued interest, but Yuri’s eyes widen, with much bigger intentions in mind.

“We really appreciate that you’re still waiting for us,” adds Minju, humble in tone and demeanor as ever. “Just give us your order tonight. It’s all on us.”

You’re briefly taken aback. Even with your sorry state, you feel as if you don’t deserve to be rewarded. Panickedly, you shake your head, “No—no—please don’t. It’s all right, I’ll pay for my own—”

“We insist; please let us take care of you tonight,” Minju interjects. Yuri glances at her, intrigued by her answer, as a new idea dawns upon her.

“Yeah, you should listen to her,” the younger girl adds, returning her gaze at you with a smirk. “Let us handle it.”

That was your first mistake.

—————

Actually, the first mistake was focusing on them to begin with, and the second was allowing them to close the space in your heart.

Yuri leads the way back to your apartment and is the first one in; that’s when you realize the mess you’ve gotten yourself in—both literally and figuratively. Empty food packs and spilled beer bottles make up most of the litter that fills every room in your once decent flat. It makes you look even worse than you already are. Mentally you’re apologizing, growing more flustered as your two uninvited guests explore your place. Minju’s been reserved the entire time that the expression she makes is nearly indistinguishable, even though her mouth gradually slacks seeing the shitshow you’ve been living in for a while.

“Your place is really cute!” Yuri knocks off some of the mess on the living room table before hopping on the desk, completely disregarding the wet puddle that now stains her black dress.

Minju’s mouth opens, but not a single word is uttered. It’s no longer her problem.

It’s yours.

“I hope you don’t mind us hanging out for a bit,” she says, and you’re not opposed to the notion in the slightest. Anything to liven up your place.

You and Minju leave Yuri by herself on the desk—for now. From across the table is the only piece in the apartment left untouched. Dusty, but unsullied. It’s a shelf filled with merch, albums, and group pictures.

“You took this?” She reaches her hand out to a particular photo, a framed picture of her and Yuri doing fanservice during one of their concerts. You quietly nod.

She smiles wider at the shot. “Would you like me to sign it?”

As you’re about to reply, Yuri swoops in between you both, tired of being ignored for at least five minutes.

“Hey! What are you doing—” she notices the framed picture, disrupting her train of thought. “Ooh! I remember this! We look cute here, Minmin!” Without any consideration, the younger girl snatches the framed photo from her friend.

“Can we keep this?”

“No.” Minju tries to take the photo back, but Minju brushes her away. “That’s his photo, you can’t just—”

“I’ll buy it for lots of money!”

“Stop! No amount of money can buy the sentimental value it has. Just give it back.”

“But money can’t buy this pussy though.” Yuri lifts the bottom of her dress, teasing her panties. Minju immediately pushes it back down.

“Yuri!”

“What?” Yuri asks, lips pouting, tone innocent, as if unaware of the stunt she just pulled off. “You know how horny these fanboys are.” Turning to you, she reaches the photo out for you to reclaim. “Your choice.”

There’s no resistance when you take the photo back and return it from the shelf. Yuri’s hands are itching to grab at her dress again, as if daring you to prove her point. Minju’s on edge, on the cusp of bailing, ready to take her friend with her before this messy situation leads to something worse. It’s a little tense, the mood a little suffocating, and none of you are able to make the best judgment calls.

“Sorry,” mutters Minju, now holding her friend’s hand. “I’m really sorry about that. We should leave—”

“No you’re not—” Yuri blurts out, before Minju places her other hand on her mouth, visibly irate by her malicious behavior.

“It’s all good,” you mumble, still fixated on the very notion that they’re in your apartment. One way or another, you want them to stay a little longer. And then you make your next mistake. “I mean, in all honesty, it’s about time I should get rid of these. Like I said before, I haven’t been able to move on, but you two are getting by just fine.”

“Right.” Minju’s gaze is sympathetic, enchanting, endearing—everything that reminds you of simpler times. The thought dawned on you at times, when you really considered burning it all—no, not even considering selling it to more sensible people—but actually burning the bridge connecting you and them. Though you say you want to move on, you understood it would haunt you for the rest of your life if you actually followed through with such an impulsive decision. “But you shouldn’t.”

Yuri pushes Minju’s hand off her. “I think you just need a little pussy. It’s not that deep.”

“Yuri!” Minju faces her with an even more annoyed glare.

“Maybe you’re right,” you blurt, capturing the girls’ attention. “I’m not free of sin, I do think you’re hot. Both of you.”

“Told you.” Yuri gloats, shaking her other hand free of Minju’s grip. She then approaches you, caresses your shoulders up to your cheek, lightly brushing the sides of your hair. “Tell me: am I the most fuckable member of the group?”

Knowing that Yuri has won, Minju stops trying to intervene. Admittedly, it was, in fact, Minju you thought was the most fuckable, and that’s no easy feat in such a stacked group, but to appease her, you nod.

“Come here,” murmurs Yuri, her fingertips rubbing around your chin as she drags you down for a sinful, deep kiss. Your fingers thread on her dress, the very same one she threatened to pull, now in your possession to grip. Her leg wraps around your hip as she pulls you closer, yearning for more of you, at the expense of your balance. It’s all falling into place, close to falling apart.

Then she says the two words that ultimately end you.

“Fuck me.”

And that’s when everything breaks.

You both end up in your bedroom, pushing Yuri onto the mattress, then hastily ridding yourself of your clothes: tie, coat, and shirt in that order. She kicks off her heels, smirking, tongue sticking out—teasing you with glimpses of her legs, panties, and pussy as you struggle to push down your pants. I know you want it, she mouths, and you’re inadvertently nodding in agreement. From the onset, you knew her dress wouldn’t come off on its own; she’s challenging you to rip it off her body, which you had every intention to do.

Your pants are still halfway down your legs when you join her in bed, completely removed after you shake the now useless heap off your feet. Yuri pulls you while you’re still approaching her for another passionate kiss. She recognizes your desire to undress her just as quickly, too. From lips to lips, she lightly brushes you down, your lips landing on her chin, neck, and collarbones. Your hand tries to grab a piece of her clothing; she parries your every attempt at her dress.

“You won’t make this easy, will you?” you say, aware of her daunting challenge but worked up regardless.

“Of course,” replies Yuri, visibly smug, getting amusement from riling people up. She rolls to the side and wraps her arms around your waist in a tight embrace. Kissing your forehead, she adds, “Show me how bad you wanna fuck me.”

It’s the right combination of seductive words, tone, and taunting demeanor that causes you to wrestle control over her. Reciprocating her kiss to your forehead, you return the favor, whisper an equally filthy reply that makes her squirm with excitement. “I’m gonna fuck this pussy so hard. Gonna fucking wreck you.”

“Try me.”

You slip both straps of her dress down her arms, enough to reveal her round, perky breasts without any cleavage. Without any further hesitation you keep going; nose, lips, neck, down to her chest—you leave a sloppy trail of bite marks, not even kisses in your wake. Yuri shuts her eyes, whines, folds like a deck with your arousing touch. Her body’s feeding your aching, hungry soul better than any meal ever could.

If it were up to you, and if it was in your capacity, the rest of her garment would be ripped in half through your teeth. Instead, they’re bunched up halfway around her waist, with the bottom half pushed up with your hand as you take hold of her panties. Digging your fingers between them, she winces, groans sympathetically, as your thumb presses on her folds, twisting her legs between yours uncomfortably. A single touch informs you that she’s wet at her core, aching, throbbing. She told you it wouldn’t be this easy; you’ll make sure it stays that way.

“Goddamn, Yuri. This wet already and I’m barely getting down with what I wanna do with you,” you mumble, your thumb lightly nudging against her folds. She’s trembling, breathing rapidly, fingers now gripped on the edge of your sheets, unable to keep still, her lips forming incoherent babbles. Add your other hand in the equation, take a handful of her chest, palm it around your grip for you to play with. It doesn’t do much that already overwhelms her senses, but her flesh is so squeezable, so malleable, so delicate to grasp, it becomes almost impossible to let go.

You dig your fingers around Yuri’s clit, her hips slowly grinding in tandem with your efforts to pleasure her. Her thighs involuntarily spread, providing more space for your fingers to be swallowed up by the tightness of her folds. With each pump and withdrawal, your digits are coated in copious amounts of slick. The sensations in her aching core pull your hand in like a magnet, allowing you to indulge in the erotic sight of Yuri quaking, screaming, tossing her head back beneath you.

“Yes, yes, yes—keep going—fuck—” Yuri makes her blissful cries loud and clear, enough for your neighbors to hear, way past any subtlety. Maintaining a steady rhythm fingering the mewling woman, you move your other hand back and forth between her shapely breasts, squeezing and kneading them, your eyes inching closer with each ripple, bounce, and jiggle. Something about the way she melts with every move you make on her slowly drives you wild, your mind racing with countless sinful desires you’ve been quietly suppressing ever since you first laid your eyes on them.

If not for how addicting it is to feel her soft flesh in your hand, it’d be hardening your cock right now. Doesn’t matter; you’ve been slowly gliding your legs, positioning yourself directly atop her, your bulge aching against her thighs, yearning for her skin. Can’t grow too comfortable, even as she squirms, yelps, writhes beneath your grasp. She adjusts, becomes acclimated to your fingers as it draws more slick, airily begging for more. Even before she considers the thought, you’re one step ahead of her, quickening your pace, generating a sloppy, satisfying sound while she leaks on your sheets.

You’re losing it, reveling in this newfound power you have over Yuri, that her orgasmic screams of pain and pleasure go overlooked. It isn’t clear whether she wants you to keep going or to stop. Your fingers never relent, even while she makes a quivering mess of your bedsheets and wetting your thigh and boxers. Eventually, you withdraw your digits from her torrentially drenched cunt. Another sticky waterfall drips on already inundated sheets. She can’t stop cumming. She doesn’t want to stop, body willing.

Yuri tosses her legs around, weak legs still violently trembling from her orgasm. The room returns to its usually quiet setting—except the gentle sound of sloppy flesh lingers. A bit quieter, more subdued, but your ears recognize a familiar sound.

Oh, right.

Somehow, you completely overlooked Minju’s presence. While you were focused on pleasuring Yuri, she had quietly leaned against the bedroom door, one of her hands following yours to that same pleasurable spot, watching with glazed eyes, enjoying the sight of her friend getting her rightful punishment. An unforgivable offense, but anyone else in your position would have done the same thing, especially when a half naked Yuri’s offering herself up on your bed.

“I was expecting you to go all the way,” she drawls, breathing heavily between words. She doesn’t care that your eyes are looking down, following her hand deep between her underwear hypnotically. “I hate to say it, but I was feeling a little jealous of her.”

Without a word, you quickly slide down her already unzipped jeans, her panties to follow. Holding her active hand, you draw it away from her core, your eyes intertwined in a passionate gaze. Time slows to a crawl. Your lips inches apart from sparking another fire. The whole time you’ve known her, she’s been quiet, reserved, nervous to make a move—that she’d ask you seven times before finally going for whatever move she wants to make.

She pulls you for a deep kiss, her other hand tugging down your wet boxers. Pressing your weight against hers, she strokes your hard cock, rubs it against her aching core, moans seductively in your ear. You’re biting down on her neck, collarbones, anything that marks her, tells the world you fucked her. Your hands latch onto her hourglass shaped waist, lightly pushing her on the bedroom door, lightly taking her off the ground without any grace, her skin another addiction to ruin your life.

Kissing down her clothed chest, you make quick work of her off-shoulder shirt before you dive back into her perfect body. Minju whimpers and whines,her nails digging into your back as you peck your way toward her core. She feels so right in your grasp; her ridiculous proportions, her slender legs, her unreal navel that warrants a prolonged kiss—everything about Kim Minju’s body was meant to be worshiped. She brings you to your knees, down to your lowest. It was easy to ruin Yuri, but this is something far beyond your level.

How do you deserve something like this?

Looking between her spread legs, you contemplate the thought. Minju’s achingly wet, just like her younger friend. She regains a little composure and realizes you’re on your knees, frozen in place. The graceful and patient woman she is, she gently caresses your cheek, forcing you to meet her gentle gaze. “Take me. Even just for tonight, I’m yours.”

Her lips draw yours like a magnet. Minju breaks eye contact at the first touch, moaning as your tongue familiarizes itself with her deliciously soft folds. Her head repeatedly thumps against the door with a thud, Digging your hands on her thighs, you’ve got Minju exactly where you want her to be: wrapped around your head in a suffocating lock. It doesn’t matter that your words come out as corrupted babble; your tongue is doing all the talking, and it loves her pussy.

“That’s it, that feels so good.” She rubs her hands on your hair, gradually shifting into a grip of the back of your skull as you acclimate to her velvety walls. “Doesn’t fucking me feel better than Yuri does?”

You’ll make your final comparison when you’re done with them both. For now, you’re focused on devouring Minju’s cunt, or dying by thigh asphyxiation—whichever comes first. Her approving moans encourage you, as if you needed any further motivation, and even if you lacked the desire, which is a completely absurd thought, her legs are there to make sure you drink up till she has nothing left.

Her juices taste so sweet, so divine, that even if your tongue dries up, you'd still be relentlessly eating her out. Soon enough, your tongue digs through every sensitive nerve and spot, setting every nerve in Minju’s body on fire. Little by little, you’re chipping away at her dainty facade. Her volume and pitch rises and rises; her grip on your hair and face tightens further. She’s exactly like her friend: a screaming mess that loves getting fucked.

There’s no tempo, no constant pace in the manner you take Minju—only a need to devour. Her patience knows only one thing too: the reward of an inevitable climax. She’s slowly grinding her hips against your face, pulling you further into her wrecked folds. It’s too fast and too sudden; you’re amazed at how she’s this alarmingly drenched—

“Fuck!”

Minju cries out, pulling you harshly by the hair, turning your face into a canvas of sticky nectar. From your vantage point, her eyes are slammed shut, mouth agape, stuck in suspended animation while her body violently trembles, even shaking your foundations. She’s completely lost in the high of her release, basking in the powerful sensations washing over her. As the lewd scene plays out, your tongue eagerly gathers up her juices. It overflows, drips down your chest and spills all over the floor even when you carry her to bed, flippantly tossing her beside her freshly fucked friend.

You take a breather to taste them both at once. Euphoric.

—————

The sight in front of you is enough to make you cum. Your two favorite members splayed on your bed, at their barest, in a state of coming undone because of your handiwork. And you still haven’t put your dick inside either of them. Deciding which one to slide your cock in first is a life or death decision. You’ll make your choice after you flip them on their backs.

You’re stroking your cock as you join the two girls on the bed, your other hand caressing Minju and Yuri’s skin back and forth, grabbing a pair of handfuls of ass. Time is a nonfactor; you’ve got all night to do every fantasy you’ve imagined with them, yet they’re still reeling from their initial orgasms, taking longer to recover.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” you whisper against Minju’s back, adding emphasis with each word, send a shiver all over her spine. Yuri feels every word too. “I dream about this exact scenario often. You, completely naked on your back, as I fuck you and cum all over this hot pussy from behind—” you follow, before you’re overcome by the urge to kiss her shoulder. It’s better than whatever dreams you’ve conjured up, because it’s real. You rub your cock against Minju’s folds, and it’s an immaculate sensation that not even your imagination can conjure up.

The tension hardly stretches for more than a few precious moments. Even without words, you understood they were impatient, and so were you. Deep in your gut, there’s a fear that if you wasted a little more time, this once in a lifetime opportunity will disappear in a blink of an eye.

“Fuck.” Minju’s pussy feels so incredibly tight, you never want to pull out from the uncertainties of tomorrow. It’s all the more intense when you draw yourself out, then thrust back in, watch as your cock enters and exits her cunt at a steady tempo. The bed gently rocks in harmony with your motion, moving like the ticks of a clock. The longer you fuck her, the longer the fantasy remains.

You grab her by the shoulder, by the waist, by her hair. Any part you haven’t marked red, you see red. Minju remains motionless, body lightly rippling, reduced to a groaning heap with each stroke. In this prone position, she’s nothing but a toy for your pleasures. You’re dominating her. You can tell she hasn’t taken dick this hard in a long time by her rising tone. You have plenty of filthy things to say, but you’ll let your hips do all the talking for you.

She feels so fucking good, so fucking hot.

It only seems appropriate that you almost lose yourself in Minju’s heat when suddenly, Yuri cries out for you. “Please.”

You don’t relent. Instead, by instinct, your pace quickens. Snaking your hand on her shoulder, you inch closer to Minju’s head, gently nibbling her ear. “God, Minju, you’re such a delightful fucktoy. So much easier to handle than your friend.”

Yuri’s hand reaches out to yours, and it snaps you from your lust-fueled haze. Her eyes sparkle under the dim light, cutely whimpering, “Fuck me please.”

Can’t hide the smirk on your face after she pleads. You face her, relentlessly pounding into Minju’s pussy, to prove a point. Assert control. You know she has no power over you. You’re threatening to undo yourself before she even gets a hint of mercy.

“I’m yours too,” says Yuri, looking penitent, even though in reality, this was her plan. “You said you were my favorite too, right? Please.”

Something about cutie Yuri tugs at your heartstrings. Cruel as you are, you’ve still got a soft spot. Maybe you fold this easily for cute girls like her. Maybe you’re not as assertive as you’ve projected yourself.

Your shadow hovers atop her. You have a hand gripped on her throat, your wet, hard cock lining against her slick folds. “Brat.”

There’s a subtle smile when you say the word. Her title. Her claim to fame. No matter how submissive she may act, deep down she’s a true brat and prides herself as one. A point made deeper when you impale her pussy with your cock. She screams—a sharp contrast to the subdued Minju. A way to make her point.

“Deeper! Harder! Fuck me hard!” Her voice comes out strained due to your palm firmly pressed on her neck. You lift her slightly upward, snake your suffocating hand down to her breast. Soft, pillowy flesh you squeeze, claim as yours. You’re crooning against her neck while adjusting to her equally hot tightness. Her pleasured-wracked face sticks a rebellious tongue out, darting in your direction as her hand frisks your torso. “You know deep down I’m a better fuck than her—fuck!”

She yelps, falls down to earth without grace. Her hands press on the sheets as you fuck her—ravage her pretty little cunt. No tempo, no slow burn, only raw, unadulterated pounding. Your palm tightly presses her tit, twists her face into even more lewd, unbearable pleasure. The words she has are lost, turned into deafening screams that echo throughout the room. “So! Fucking! Deep!”

It’s sinful, it’s hot, it’s perfect. You have her exactly where you want, propped on all fours as you mindlessly fuck her into submission, hands roaming her chest, her waist, her ass, lips kissing her shoulders and neck. She’s reduced to nothing but a high pitched mess; God, you’re sure everyone knows you’ve got Jo Yuri in bed now. Oh well. You’ve got a story to tell over coffee break on Monday.

It’s only when you force yourself to stop—and this is no easy feat—that she quiets down. Your cock is upset; you’ve edged yourself inside their hot pussy twice now, you can’t keep yourself in limbo forever, among other possible implications. The thought of protection never really bubbled up until this point, but you’re so far gone, far past the point of no return.

You’ll play with fate a little more before leaving yourself in its unpredictable hands.

The tango goes back and forth; Minju then Yuri, in that order, a few minutes at a time, which stretches into hours. You’ve twisted them in positions you fantasized and beyond your imagination, fucking both former idols till your cock can no longer bear with you. So when you have to make that fateful decision, it’s merely an illusion. Even as they make their deepest pleas for you to claim what’s rightfully yours, you reject the notion and take your own path.

It only seems right that the share of warm load is spread over their toned stomachs. In the aftermath of your long overdue orgasm, you fall back and wonder if it was the right decision. Initially, their faces are shaken with disbelief, utterly shocked that for once, the fan never came inside either of them, before all three of you eventually succumbed to their soreness and exhaustion.

—————

By some miracle, you’re standing on your two feet, holding onto Minju’s shoulders as she turns on the shower. Running water gushes over all three of you as it flows down your bodies without moving with the intended purpose of cleaning yourselves up. The older woman tilts her head at an angle where your lips find solace in her collarbones, gently pecking her skin—not the rough, sloppy lovemaking you’d been doing for the past hour, but intimate, sentimental love. She eventually turns around to rub her hand across your entangled arm, sharing in your warmth. Yuri hugs you from behind, her arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling her head against your back like her favorite pillow. It’s your innermost desires at its most raw, fully realized.

You feel content. You feel grateful.

The same three words repeat in your mouth over and over, spaced between the occasional kiss to both idols, deeply imprinting how much they mean to you. “I love you. I love you.”

You barely scrub each other for over ten minutes before you leave the shower. The two girls crash back into your bed after a rushed effort to dry up, completely overlooking their wet hair. You quietly follow, putting yourself in the center as your two biases instinctively wrap an arm around you, the now quiet mood in the room a far cry from the loud mess it was when you first entered. The last image saved in your head is Yuri’s gentle smile, her finger reaching out to brush away a little strand of hair before you all eventually pass out from exhaustion.

You’ve never been in a better position to die happier.

—————

The morning after is the first after a long time that you don’t feel like complete shit.

The room reeks of sex—a smell that will permeate for a long, long time. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you’re in no rush to put on your typical office wear. Minju and Yuri are long gone, and so is any trace of their presence in your apartment, except the lingering scent of last night’s activities. Just like that, life goes on.

Mostly.

The day after, you’ve tidied up most of your apartment. By Monday, to the surprise of your employer, you start working past the usual 9-to-5. He makes a little comment about your sudden change of heart walking past your cubicle. “You’re usually the first one out.”

The snarky remark goes overlooked, mostly because you’re preoccupied with thoughts of Minju and Yuri, as usual. You drown yourself in monotonous officework with the purpose of collapsing once you go home. It works. You’d rather be anywhere but home or holding a bottle.

A week passes. Rumblings of your character development spread like wildfire around the workplace, but you pay no heed to it. Friday arrives, and it pains you to hear that you’re not allowed to work overtime hours because of their employee friendly policy. Your mates invite you for a night at some club downtown, but you decline. Some part of you clings to the little hope that they might be there tonight.

The place is mostly empty, save for a few early patrons. You’ve got all night and the weekend, but you didn’t have to wait very long.

As soon as you put your menu down, ready for dinner, the two women have taken seats right in front of you. No words necessary, only warm, easy smiles.

You smile back. “Is this going to be our thing now?”

Now armed with dangerously alluring blonde hair, Yuri briefly kisses you, followed by an inviting smirk shared with Minju that tells you everything you need to know. “We hope your weekend schedule is empty. We have so much in store for you.”

—————

(A/N: I really love fan x idol stories, so this particular one hits all the right notes for me. Apologies once again for taking too long, this was supposed to be done when Taxi dropped (great comeback, go stream!). It's amazing to see Yuri potentially hitting it big globally with her Squid Game 2 casting news, here's hoping Minjobless can find big roles in movies and dramas as well! She deserves it. Thank you for reading!)

(PS: College started up again and I'm drowning in intensive research and assignments, oof. Currently, the only day I have free time is Sunday, since I have school stuff six of the seven days of the week. Expect more lengthy gaps of this magnitude between fics. Additionally, the Pokémon DLC is coming out real soon, which definitely will occupy my spare time more. However, this will change sometime around mid-to-late September, so here's hoping I can get a few more fics out for you. Appreciate you as always <3)

#smut #kpop smut #jo yuri #kim minju #minju #yuri

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suguru-getos · 5 months

Text

Fluffember with Satoru Gojo

Prompt: Sharing a drink

Summary: You are in the early phases of your relationship with Satoru where you haven't even kissed each other yet. Taking things comfortingly and achingly slow. You go on a date with him where you share a drink together. <3 Warnings: None, it's absolutely fluffy in the most Dark Academia of ways since it has an almost poetic depiction of my love for this man lol. I have self-indulged here, so the reader is lean (Mentioning of his palm almost covering our waist); apart from that - nothing else. Let me know if I've missed anything loves x -> Talk to me about the man ;)

You hadn't spent much time with Gojo Satoru yet, however that didn't mean that the early stages of the relationship are not memorable and enticing in the least. Take today for an example, you can't wait for work to finish & go on a coffee date with him. It's barely been 10 days of you two agreeing to be in a committed relationship with each other. Your backgrounds were totally different, your brother goes to Jujutsu High and as his guardian who lives in Japan- you had met Satoru Gojo several times. He had introduced him to you as his teacher when he was 15, and now he is 18. A third year and ready to graduate. Satoru met you when you were 20, and he was 26 that time. There was always an eerie, unspoken mystery between you two. You didn't try on him though, as good looking and fluent in English as he was… something about there being no chances ever to exist caused your behaviour to carry a severe astonishing indifference towards him. Something that bewildered even Satoru always, though he was happy that there is someone who does not kiss the floor he walks on. It felt a good change, the only people who behave normally with him are his male counterparts, and women like Shoko and Utahime who know he is not to be taken so seriously at times.

Until on your brother's 18th birthday, he got him a fucking Mercedes. That was- interesting to say the least. You had talked to him here and there but your brother's birthday bash is the moment when you two started talking for real. Hobbies, what are your favourite places to visit, what irks you off, how his technique works… everything. Hell he cockily showed you his domain as well, something so beautiful you were haunted by it in your dreams.

You shake off all the thoughts in your head when one of your colleagues asked your help in something. He was a junior and often came to you with his series of questions and doubts. So far you hadn't mentored anyone really… though everything has started to remind you about Satoru Gojo. How good of a mentor he is for your sibling… Damn it, that man- you still haven't kissed for fuck's sake! Just gone on a casual movie date when he had to run off when your brother felt his CE in your house. Pft- funny… you can't wait for him to judge Satoru as a boyfriend when you finally tell him.

Satoru Gojo [3:00 PM]: Hey! :D You up for the date after work right???

You bit your lip as your phone's home screen lit up with the familiar name, no you haven't saved his contact cutely yet… you can't afford to move too fast. Don't want to be the one to fall first and fall harder and then get your heart broken to pieces.

You [3:01 PM]: Yeah, ofc! I'd get free by 5. Send me the pin.

Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: LOL

Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: 🤣🤣😏

Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: She thinks I'll not pick her fine ass up, mkay girl

You smiled a little at the text, biting your lip and raising your hand for your colleague to stop talking. He complied, seeing you so occupied and having dusted cheeks.

You [3:02 PM]: Okay, I'll wait :)

You're a dry texter at times, but you can be extremely chaotic when you're comfortable. Satoru still needed to unlock that gremlin potential after all.

Oh you can't wait for your work day to end, glancing at the time, listening to songs, finishing the Knowledge Transfer session with your junior colleague. Finally, it was 5:00 PM. You aren't one of the people who leave work on the dot, but today is an exception. You left your seat at 4:50, gliding towards the washroom and doing a final touch up on your make-up, before leaving outside.

There he stood, the man himself. Body language easy as a breeze, like a relief you'd expect when you see him with a tingle of nervousness that makes your heart ache. Oh he was wearing his glasses today, wearing a black shirt and some formal pants, waving his hands at you with a cheerful grin. He was the tallest amongst everyone walking by, easily visible and the most beautiful and ethereal of course.

You smiled back, walking towards him like an excited child and hugging him softly. Satoru wasn't soft at all though, single-handedly covering almost your entire waist into his palm and pulling you close, letting you drown in his expensive and luxurious cologne. Satoru smelled like power, if it was supposed to be a scent. A unique and distinguished scent that you wouldn't be too creepy to ask right now.

"Gosh little girl, I missed you. What're you doing to me?" He chuckled, walking alongside you and holding your hand possessively, intertwining fingers. Everything felt too much, and nothing at the same time. Nothing as in you wanted more, too much as in you can't take his touches which are now so relevant and so easy for him.

"I missed you too, Satoru." You still slur a little, and he looks down at you from his glasses, he loves how his name sounds from your voice. You've always called him Gojo san out of respect as your brother's sensei. Calling him Satoru helps break any restraints you have bounded yourself in.

Your office was near the bustling labyrinth of Tokyo city, and finding a neat and boujee coffee shop wasn't really hard for your boyfriend. You both walked in, and the barista was as mesmerised by Satoru at first glance as you were. Can't blame her, he is gut-wrenchingly beautiful after all. Sculpted by the gods.

"I'd like uh, to have?" He rips through your stray thoughts and smiles, looking down to match your height and leaning in a little closer to your face. "What'd my girl like to have?" Fucking hell you could combust! "I'd like to have a Chocolate Frappucino with an extra shot of espresso and some vanilla extract & caramel syrup please."

"Oh making a coffee mocktail are we?" Satoru grinned, and looked at the Barista who glanced expectantly at him for his order. "Oh we'd make an extra-large, and make it two straws kay?" He said is so casually though it was the cutest thing that has happened to you so far.

He held your hand and found a place for you and him, pulling your chair like a gentleman. "How was work, little one?" He muses, while you talk to him about your day, how you organized Zumba classes today for your colleagues and how your work was as hectic as ever but nothing to complain since you're not overworked.

He nods, and listens, like- really, really listens. For someone who talks a lot, Satoru was extremely observant and quiet right now.

Then, came the order, the Barista placing the tray with the coffee on the table & sliding in the two straws. "I hope you two enjoy." The venomous formality tinged with jealousy dripped out from her throat as she left. Satoru of course paid no mind… though you could observe how people looked at him. As if he was someone to attain.

You leaned in, wrapping your lips around the straw after dipping it into the coffee and took a sip. "Mm, so good." You almost moan a little at the exquisite taste. Satoru hands you the other straw, while you looked at him bewildered. His lips wrapped around 'your' straw, which had 'your' lipstick imprint and took a sip. Leaving you absolutely flustered and fazed. "So good, true… best thing I've ever tasted in 29 years." He hums with a genuine affirmation that only drives you off the edge. "Stop it, you're so dramatic!" You laughed, taking the other straw and sharing the drink.

How to make silly little things intimate - you could only hope to learn from Satoru Gojo <3 then again, you have several more dates with him to learn it after all. He was whipped and falling desolatingly fast for you.

#gojo satoru #gojo imagines #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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fairysluna · 1 year

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little wolf.

Cregan's little sister is the only one who can change his mind, which is why Aemond decides to use his charms and convince her to support the Green using some peculiar methods.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Tags/TW: smut (p in v, loss of virginity, f!oral sex, praise, breeding, kinda innocent!kink), teasing, a bit of mean!aemond, slight dubcon, cregan being an overprotective brother, cursing. if something is missing let me know!!

Author's Note: mimor @tvrgvryen sent me this request a few days ago and I had to do it bc i loved it so much. So here it is!

Word Count: 4.9k

Aemond has always been a good observer. He has always noticed the small details, the reason why people acted as they did, the way people treated others. That's why it wasn't hard for him to realize how important you were for your beloved brother Cregan.

The day he first stepped into Winterfell after Vhagar gracefully landed on the snow, he saw how brave Cregan was for stepping between you and the enormous beast. However, that mere gesture exposed the big affection he had for you; his only sister, and with that, Aemond knew what was Lord Stark's greatest weakness… you.

He went to the North with a mission, a task to fulfill, and he was not a man that was known to give up on things. Aemond was resilient, determined. He would not accept a negative answer from the Warden of the North, and even though he knew about the oath and how Starks are famously known for being loyal to their words; he was eager to find his way to gain the North's support.

And his opportunity came up with you; the sweet, kind Lady Stark. Beloved by all, you were also known as the Heart of Winterfell, for it was said that even the small folk held dear for you. Everything that Aemond heard about you were nothing but good words, showing how much people appreciated you, which only impulsed Aemond's bad intentions.

It is true, a Stark never forgets an oath, but the North gathers when the wolf howls… and even though your brother was the visible face of your House, everyone knew that it was you the one that had true power over the masses; your gentleness made you the Queen of the North, and that information was enough for Aemond to start his devious schemes.

It all started at the training yard. The snow had fallen earlier in the morning, covering the ground with a thick layer of snow. He was staring at you as you struggled with a bow and arrow, not being able to hit the bullseye. This would only make you groan with impatience, despair even. Aemond pressed his lips and looked down at his shoes, trying to show himself amused by you wrestling.

"You're too tense, my lady," he said as he slowly walked towards you.

His black fur coat covering his slim shape, his white hair perfectly still despite the crazy wind, his hands at the back of his body. He looked so effortlessly elegant, it almost made you blush.

"My prince," you greeted him, bowing swiftly, "I'm sorry you have to watch this terrible attempt."

"I didn't know women were allowed to train here in the North," he spoke, politely as he stretched his arm to touch the fine wood of the bow you were holding.

"We're not," you replied, "but my brother insists I should be prepared to defend myself, so he forces me to train either way."

"Mhm…" he nodded, "your brother is a clever man. A beauty like yours is the target of many deprived men, he's doing well by letting you learn how to protect yourself."

"But he barely has time to teach me," you complained, placing your arms in position to shoot again, "now he's in a meeting with the Mormonts, and I am here," you let the arrow go, but it didn't even hit the target. "...failing miserably."

Aemond chuckled, and you inevitably blushed at the low sound that came out of him. You stared at him from your peripheral view, analyzing his undeniable beauty and flirtatious smirk which made your heart beat a little too fast.

"You're too tense," he repeated, as he shifted his position until he was behind you.

His hands went to your shoulders, and he squeezed them softly giving you a soft and short massage that made you close your eyes. Soon, one of his hands reached yours, the one that was holding the bow's grip. He wrapped it around yours, and you immediately felt his warmth on your cold skin. It made you gasp silently.

"You see, I'm not so good at using a bow, I think my weapon of choice is the sword," he whispered, getting closer to your ear, his breath smacking against your shivering skin, "but I know things… and I can teach you if you please, my lady."

His nose rubbed against your hair, and your delicious smell almost made him groan. Soon, the prince helped you to fix your position as your breathing was getting heavier and an unknown feeling was installed in your lower belly. You feel the heat even though it was freezing cold, you felt his body pressing against yours leaving a sensation of distress, as if your body was begging you for something.

You feared of someone seeing you; the position was quite compromising, and you were certain your reputation would be stained if someone witnessed such a scandalous scene. It felt too intimate for you, perhaps not so proper for a maiden like you. You would have tried to push him away, but there was something within him that did not allow you to do so; it was as if he had bewitched you with his charms, and you were under a spell from which you were not able to wake up.

"It's simple, my lady," he explained, "you must relax, you must let go," his voice so deep and low against your ear, "come on, no one's watching, you're under no pressure…"

His touch, so delicate and gentle, mixed with his words, which you quickly misinterpreted; 'no one's watching', it sounded more like an invitation rather than words of comfort. You couldn't help but to sigh, a gesture that brought a slight smirk upon Aemond's face.

"Let yourself go, Lady Stark," his voice turned more breathy, rapier. "That's it, so good… now, eyes on the target, don't take your eyes off of it, okay?"

You simply nodded, wildly blushing at his praise. There was a subtle shiver that went to your trembling hands, you cleared your throat trying to play it down.

"Take deep breaths, don't close your eyes," his hands left yours, now going to your abdomen, his nose brushing against your ear as he kept whispering, "good, good girl."

Your teeth captured your lower lip as you held back a whimper. Squirming in your place, you felt weak on the knees as his hands left a squeeze on your hips.

"Now… shoot."

You listened, and your hand let go of the string. Your eyes widened with surprise as the arrow hit close to the bullseye, which was certainly not perfect, but it was an improvement. A smile appeared in your face as you tilted your head to appreciate your achievement, and soon a giggle escaped you.

"Oh, Gods…" you sighed, "I did it."

"You did it," Aemond said, "you did so well."

His words made your face turn to face him, and his lips were just a few inches away from yours. Your breath hitched, as your heart pounded with so much strength that you thought he would be able to hear it… even feel it. His hand traveled upwards your body until it reached the nape of your neck.

For a moment you thought he would kiss you, that his soft-looking lips would dare to touch yours. But suddenly, he pulled away. Few seconds later, footsteps were heard dragging the snow beneath their feet, and soon you found out the reason behind his abrupt reaction.

"Sister!" you heard. The deep and roaring voice of your brother woke you up from your trance, and you turned around to face him.

You saw a frown upon his face as his eyes narrowed. For a moment you thought he saw how close you were with Aemond, but soon his own words proved you wrong.

"Septa has been waiting for you for an hour!" he scolded you, "why are you still here?"

It took you a while to speak, you knew your voice would come out weak and thin if you dared to utter a word in that moment, which not only would make Cregan be suspicious of what happened, but also would embarrass you in front of the charming prince.

Luckily for you, Aemond decided to step in.

"I was helping her train, my lord, I'm sorry for the disruption I might have caused," you looked down at the steps Aemond had left in the snow, right beside yours.

You were quick and subtle once you purposely stepped on them to erase them. Aemond noticed and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Well, stop your training and go," he demanded, "you might continue tomorrow."

You had no choice but to obey. One last glance was given to Aemond as you bowed to him, saying goodbye. Cregan followed your frame as you entered the castle, and then he turned to look at the prince. Aemond was no fool, he knew Cregan was not ignorant of his intention… he was a man after all, he could see through his facade with no big effort.

However, he did not say anything about it. He just nodded, and then he left leaving Aemond standing alone with the burning desire running down his body.

At first, he planned on just seducing you… but now? Now he will have you. He needed to have you.

That same day, quite late at night, you were found in your chambers, laying on your belly on top of the fur carpet right in front of the warmth of the fireplace. A book was between your hands as your eyes followed the traces of the poetic words that were written in it. The sound of the fire crackling and burning the wood was the only thing you were able to hear until three soft knocks interrupted the quiet calmness of the night.

You barely looked up as you muttered a soft 'come in', turning the page to continue with your reading. The door was opened in a subtle movement that you barely noticed, and soon you heard steps getting close to you.

It wasn't until you were able to see the shoes of that person that you decided to look up, only to find Aemond's grin staring back at you. You immediately sat up, crossing your legs and trying to cover your breasts with the book; the fabric of your nightgown was thin, and you knew that your skin could usually be seen through it if he dared to squint to take a look.

Your body hasn't forgotten about his touch and closeness, and in a certain way it was actually craving for more of that. But you knew it was not proper, you've heard whispers around the castle claiming that he was actually betrothed to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, meaning he already belonged to someone else.

And yet, you couldn't help but to feel the eagerness to touch him.

"My Prince," you said, the shock of seeing him there, sitting on the carpet right beside you was shown in your voice, "what- what are you doing here?"

"I found myself alone and bored in my chambers, so I decided to wander around the castle and the path brought me here… to you," he smiled kindly as he said those last two words. Words that made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turn red, "were you reading?" He asked, pointing at the book that was covering your pebbled nipples.

"Uh… yes," you nodded, shyly, "it's a book about poetry."

"Poetry?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, "Mind if I have a look, little wolf?"

You couldn't help but to wildly blush with the pet name, feeling butterflies inside your belly as you pulled the book out of your chest and left it in his hands. Aemond's eyes inevitably went to see your soft breasts covered by a thin white layer of silky fabric, breathing deep and harsh as he felt his cock twitch inside his pants once he managed to see your nipples through it.

He remained calm, even when the only thing he wanted was to rip that gown out of your body and take you right there. Instead, he just sighed as his fingers elegantly turned the pages, reading some extract of the love poems in the book.

"I see you're a romantic person, my Lady," he commented, without taking his eyes off of the pages, "do you consider yourself a fan of the genre?"

"It's something that I enjoy reading, yes," you nodded.

"I had the impression," he confessed, closing the book and leaving it aside, "have you ever been in love?"

You shook your head, "I don't- I don't think so."

"Mhm…" he sighed, "that’s odd, you're a gorgeous lady, one might have thought you had a lot of suitors waiting for you."

"You're too kind," you said, looking retrained for a few seconds.

"I'm just stating the facts, little wolf," he spoke softly, "It seems like your brother likes to scare them away."

"Them?" You asked confused.

"Your suitors," he clarified, "that's the only reasonable explanation of why you are not married yet."

"He just wants the best for me," you defended him.

"And what would that be?"

"A husband who not only sees me as a womb with legs, but also as something precious, something worthy of love and care," your dreamy voice made Aemond smirk, the naiveness in you amused him in so many ways.

"You're asking for too much in a society like this, don't you think?"

You shrugged, "a girl can only dream."

The prince nodded, "and a man can only fulfill those dreams, am I right?" You remained silent, avoiding his heavy and penetrative stare at all cost, "have you ever been this close to a man before?"

"No…"

"I could tell," he chuckled, a sound that buzzed into your ears and made your mind go fuzzy, "you were quite nervous when I helped you with your bow this morning."

"I don't feel very comfortable with the proximity of men…" you confessed.

"Of all men, or just of me?"

That's when you realized where this was going, and the panic quickly installed in your gut as you swallowed hard. It took you some time, but you finally noticed his true intentions. You knew you had to stop him before things went further.

"My prince, I'm not quite sure what you mean by those words," you started to stand up, tumbling in your knees, "but it's late and it wouldn't be proper for you to be seen in my chambers, so please-"

Your words were interrupted by the sudden action of Aemond, who pulled you closer until you stranded him, your legs at each side of his body as he forced you to sit on his lap, his hands pressed in your hips firmly, not allowing you to escape from his strong grip.

"I think you know what I mean, my lady…" he whispered, leaning closer to your ear only to mutter with his seductive and raspy voice, "I think you can feel it."

Your breath hitched in your throat at the same time you tried to speak, "I- I don't know…"

"Tell me what you felt when I touched you this morning," he commanded, his hands lowering to your thighs, starting to lift the thin fabric of your gown, "was it similar to what you're feeling right now?"

"I… I don't-"

"I sensed your nervousness when I said how good of a girl you are," he chuckled, starting to breathe in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, "does that arouse you, little wolf? Being praised?"

"Prince Aemond, this is not proper, please-" you tried to pull away, but his grip pushed you down once again. Now you were able to feel his hard-on pressing right down your core, which sent you a sensation that caused chills down your spine.

"That's not what I'm asking you," he spoke sternly, massaging your thighs, squeezing them every now and then, "Mhm… my sweet little wolf, you're shaking. Are you nervous now? You don't have to be, I won't hurt you."

"I told you I do not enjoy this," you breathed out, feeling his hands reaching your hips underneath your gown.

"So you're telling me that if I dare to touch between your legs… I would not find your cunt drenching for me?"

His words made you squirm, the blush running to your cheeks as his thumb started to caress your mons pubis. Your body tensed as you widened your eyes, feeling his finger pressing down.

“I- I don’t- my Prince, please stop-” a small moan interrupted your words as he found your clit between your folds. His thumb rubbing it slowly as you closed your eyes; embarrassed that he was touching such a private part of your body.

“Have you ever been kissed, my lady?” He asked, trying to hold back a groan as he felt your slick coating his digit, “Has someone been lucky enough to be the first to claim your beautiful lips?”

You shook your head, Aemond hummed with delight.

“Then I guess I’ll be the first…”

You barely were able to process his words when he pressed his soft lips against yours. Slow movements that were easy for you to follow without much struggle as you held back whimpers of pleasure, for his thumb was still torturing your pearl in a slow and gentle manner.

Your hand fell on his chest, not with the intention of pushing him away. You grasp his thin blouse, catching the fabric between your trembling hands as you felt the tip of his tongue starting to tease your lips. Hesitantly, your lips parted just a few inches, enough to give him space for him to claim your mouth; swirling his tongue against yours as you tried to keep up with his slow and tempting actions.

He was able to taste your inexperience, the way you would doubt your movements before actually doing them was enough proof for him to know that you were not lying; he was the first man to kiss, which now made him more eager to also become the first man to fuck you.

A gasp escaped your swollen lips when, in a sudden movement, he laid your body in the soft carpet, spreading your legs and placing himself between them. Your nightgown was wrinkled around your hips, exposing your glistening folds to him as he kept playing with your now sensitive clit. Soft mewls were heard as he stopped kissing you in order to taste your skin. You felt the wet caresses of his lips in your neck, your jaw, your collarbones, all while your hands were grasping the fur of the carpet beneath you.

His fingers were soon covered in your juices, your hips trying to move against them in an attempt to feel more, but he pulled them away and you widened your eyes once you saw him licking them and humming after he felt your sweet taste against his tongue. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard him groan.

"My lady, you taste as sweet as you are," he spoke slowly, you blinked a couple times still feeling your mind fuzzy, "do you want a taste?"

You gulped, not entirely sure of what to reply. The words were unable to come out, so all you could was nod.

A careless smile appeared on his face as he left a soft kiss on your cheek, before you realized your legs were on his shoulders and his face buried in your drenching cunt as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure his tongue was providing you.

His slurping was heard, echoing in the room as you tried to push his head away from your pussy, breathing fast and unsteady as he devoured you. You felt his tongue teasing your needy hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, making you moan a bit too loudly. His hands were grabbing your hips tightly, just to make sure you don't escape from him; his fingertips burying in your soft skin as your body writhe under his skilful mouth.

You could feel your own slick slipping down your thigh along with his spit. It was messy, far from being as slow and calm as the kiss he gave you before. He was eager to make you cum; licking, sucking, and fucking your cunt until you were nothing but a moaning mess.

It was over before you even noticed it. With a loud gasp, your eyes rolling and your thighs pressing at each side of Aemond's head, you reached your first orgasm, which finished with you gulping and hiccuping with pleasure. You heard him moaning against your soaking folds, collecting all your slick to then lean over your body.

He took a look at your face, your lips quivering as your cheeks were burning and tinted with a furious red. His fingers reached your chin, and made you open your mouth, which you did without hesitation. His spit fell in your tongue before your glistening eyes closed as you whimpered. You were able to taste yourself in it, the sweetness of your release coating your tongue.

"Swallow it," he commanded, and you quickly obeyed him, "good girl…" he let out a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but to feel an unknown heat running down your body. "See? I told you you were sweet, doesn't it taste good?"

You nodded, sighing.

"So good, so delicious…" he leaned to kiss you again as his hands pulled down your gown, freeing your breasts, "I swear it, my lady, I will not rest until your cunt is mine forever."

His big hands left a soft squeeze on your tits before they went to his pants, untying the lace and pulling them down. His leaking cock was now on your sight, hard and reddish. You barely noticed he took off his shirt as you were too hypnotized seeing that specific part of his body. Aemond immediately noticed your curious eyes, and he teasingly grabbed his cock in his hand only to stroke it a few times before letting it on top of your clit.

"Do you want it, my lady?" He whispered, starting to rub himself on you.

You whined, looking down at the obscene scene of his cock parting your puffy lips.

"Do you want my cock to make you feel good?" He groaned, feeling your slick coating his shaft, "I will give it to you if you ask me… Tell me what you want."

You gulped, trying to pronounce pleas.

"Aemond… I- I want…"

"Tell me, my beautiful lady," he muttered, "tell me what you desire."

"I want you… please… it's hurting, I-"

The head of his cock reached your hole and he slowly started to sink in you. Your eyes widened as a soft cry escaped your throat. Your legs closed as you brought them against your chest, and Aemond groaned in disapproval.

"Come on, darling… keep your legs open for me," he cooed, "I want to see your pretty pussy taking my cock."

He held the back of your knees, keeping your legs folded but spread. His cock was buried in your tight cunt as tears of pain started to fall down your cheeks. A loud cry was heard, louder than all of the others, and Aemond was quick to put his hand on top of your mouth.

"Sh, sh…" he whispered, "It's okay, it'll pass. Just relax, my lady, it will feel so good."

He spreaded you open with one push, your back arched as you struggled to take him. He stayed still for a few seconds before his own lust decided that he could not wait any longer. Your walls were squeezing him deliciously as he started to pound against you, groaning and moaning as the pleasure was taking the best of him.

Grasping on the fur beneath you, you started to sob. Aemond saw the signs of pain in your face and he quickly leaned over you in order to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. The feeling that brought you was indescribable, and soon the pain became bearable as his thrusts remained slow but became harder.

Aemond would choke his moans against your tit as his tongue skilfully swirling around it, licking and sucking as he kept fucking you, each thrust going deeper and deeper.

"Fuck…" he sighed, "your pussy is so fucking tight. Made by the Gods just for me."

His words made you drool as the warmth of the fireplace was starting to affect you, making you sweat. His hand left your mouth, now going to play with your swollen and needy clit.

"This little cunt belongs to me now, doesn't it?" he purred against your ear.

"A-Aemond..."

He hummed, "how sweet you sound when you moan my name like that."

"P-please…"

"What is it, my lady?" he teased you, "do you want to cum? Do you want to make a mess on my cock?"

"Y-yes…" you managed to say, choking with your words as he thrusted harder, "Oh, Gods! Yes…"

"That's it, sweet girl…" he praised you, "taking me so well, so good. I'm gonna fill you up, leave you leaking with my cum. Is that what you want?"

"G-Gods… yes, p-please!" you whined.

"Then I guess I have no other choice but to give you what you want…"

A soft chuckle left him as his thrusts became faster. His hips smacking against yours as he gripped your arsecheeks to gain stability. The sound of your slick drenching around his cock echoed in the room as you started to cry out, sobbing with pleasure and begging for more.

Aemond looked at your cunt, and a soft and subtle whine was heard as he saw the way his cock disappeared between your folds. Your pleas would only make him desperate, eager to reach his climax and seeing your abused hole leaking his pearly seed. The image alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside you.

"Fuck, so good… so fucking good," he lifted your hips, pounding restlessly against you as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes as his breathing turned unsteady, "such a perfect pussy, squeezing me so fucking good."

You clenched around him, and that was what sent him over the edge, spilling his big loads of cum inside of you at the same time that your release exploded. Your cries were heard even in the hallway, as the intensity of your orgasm took over your shaky body. The feeling of him stuffing you with his seed sent you a shiver down your spine that made you twitch your hips.

Aemond leaned over you to kiss you, pounding lazily as he was coming down from his orgasm. You receive the sloppy kiss as your eyes were closing by themselves, too worn out to keep them open.

But then, Aemond decided to speak.

"Look at you, sweet girl…" he said with an odd tone that you haven't heard from him until now, "what would your big brother say if he saw you now, huh? Filled with my seed, a mess under my touch."

Your breathing stopped for a second and only then you realized what you did. You opened your eyes only to find a smirk on his face, and your heart dropped.

"You probably will be swollen with my bastard in a few months… then what would the people think of you? The Heart of the North carrying the Prince's bastard child…"

"N-no…" you muttered, starting to softly push his chest.

"Mhm, yes…" he scoffed, "unless I take you as my bride, of course."

A shaky breath came out of your nose as tears of despair fell down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivered as your gleaming eyes looked at his.

"W-would you… would you take me as your wife?"

Aemond smirked, starting to pull out of you. He hummed delighted with the view as he saw the pearly drops leaking out of you. He sighed, putting his pants on and fixing his clothes.

"If your brother decides to join his forces with ours, I will take you as my bride and no one will know this happened before our marriage…" he said, standing up and looking down at you. "But, if he decides to join my sister's army…"

He doesn't even need to finish the sentence for you to know the consequences of that. The panic ran down your body as you sat in the carp carpet, covering your nudity with your nightgown and crying.

"How- how am I supposed to-?"

"Cregan Stark will do anything his little sister commands," he interrupts you, taking a few steps towards you to gently grab your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him, "so you better choose the right option, my lady."

He left a caress in your cheek with a smug smile on his face. He abandoned your chambers, letting you there feeling helpless and a bit scared.

It wasn't a big surprise for him when a few days later Lord Stark gave him the good news… and Aemond fulfilled his words, marrying you a month after the North joined the war and helped King Aegon II win the final battle against Rhaenyra.

What was a surprise, was the birth of your first child, a month earlier than what the Maesters expected.

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comfortless · 1 month

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God könig and his only worshipper who doesn't try to get him more followers cause she wants all of his attention on her

another strange vaguely Greek/Roman au?! ^^ (also to your other message: no worries!! being too nice would make me lazy!) this prompt is like a reversal of this and i am here for it!

content/warnings: suggestive, König may or may not have killed some guy no big deal..!

It isn’t as if he bestows great blessings upon you or grants your deepest, most guarded wishes…

It’s just that he’s lovely in all forms: the very apex of some marbelesque, masculine statue made flesh. Warm to the touch and so very real and alive that it was difficult to focus on worshiping him proper when your very being sang for him.

He’s probably only some great god of war, Ares, but without the long list of lovers and offspring - only you. There was nothing that he could do to benefit you much, just a humble citizen that had no need of taking up a weapon…

Yet he was so heart achingly beautiful with the docile look in his eyes, the contrast to his stature that bore the look of a proper hunter, you could not keep yourself from returning to him.

All of the other men in the city pale in comparison to the god you pray to, nestled up in the foothills where you make your trek day by day to speak… knowing that nightly he comes to you in dreams with little glimpses of futures or pasts: the things you can not comprehend yet those in Olympus could parse together with such ease.

As his only worshiper, you are never apart for long.

He descends that mountain each time to meet with you in green meadows with the gentlest look in his eyes.

He has no temple in which to pray to… but, you’ve made a temple of your own within yourself all for him. He knows it, knows well when you pray at your feet and he sheepishly orders you to stop that, stand, face him, and he would lend you his mighty weapon any day if you would just ask for him to use it.

Your god deserves and army of men to fight and scramble for his favor, a harem of women to tend to his needs… but the thought alone is enough to leave bitterness on your tongue.

You don’t want to share him, only savor the honeyed words and touches between the two of you, never muddy what is sacred with another’s prayers or offerings.

… Are yours not already enough?

You only find out that they most certainly are the day a suitor begins his arrogant courtship and… within that very hour he is no longer. A stray spear from the pit pierced right through him…? What a strange way to go out. You don’t even think to question it until you find yourself meandering through soft grass for your meeting with König.

He’s a warrior, too, he should know the intricacies of how a weapon that heavy might rise up on the wind just to strike some poor, silly man down before he could even take your hand and lie with you.

You tell him of this odd occurrence whilst you whittle away at a tiny carving of him with a paring knife, König sat just adjacent to you.

First, he tells you that a blade meant for herbs and vegetables is no good for wood. The dull blade is pried from your hands with ease and tossed aside into the foliage surrounding you both. No need for little idols when your god willingly comes down to grace you, anyhow…

Then, he tells you that… it isn’t fair for you to have eyes for any other. Is his presence not enough? Is he not stronger and more capable than any of your puny, mortal men? He could protect you, haul you up to Olympus and make you his bride, give you as many children as you want… Wouldn’t you like that more?

Your stare is so telling, hands shaking as you set the unfinished figure aside, and the words do not come, not when the look he gives you goes from adoring and sweet to near deadly in an instant. It’s the first time he’s offered to bless you with anything but bloodshed in your favor… a peculiar promise of love in return for your selfishness and gifts of milk and honey…

“I do not think I am worthy of that…” The words come tumbling, clumsy and weighty on your tongue. Could he detect the yearning there..? Surely he knew with the way he invaded your dreaming, and even now as his hand finds your shoulder to push you back down into the soft bed of the earth.

“You wish to make yourself worthy, little one..?”

You only nod, once, as your heart finds its way into your throat and your robe is torn away to flutter out with the wind.

#this is so short… apologies!#putting König in these scenarios is so fun but my well is running dry someone spare me a bucket…#^^’#they fuck or whatever do i need to type it this time.. (shaking like milk)

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shawtuzi · 2 years

Text

“She say I’m obsessed with thick women and I agree”

cw include: chubby reader, black coded reader but you can picture her however you’d like <3, slight talk of body image, size kink, drug and alcohol use, basketball player eren bc that deserves a warning, oral both receiving, unprotected sex, choking n a little manhandling, pussydrunk eren, squirting, lots of dirty talk and praise, mating press, sex standing up, backshots, creampie, eren has an abnormally huge dick...i think that's about it///wc: 4.3k

Eren Jaeger was known as a legend on campus. Not only on the basketball court but with the ladies as well. If you had a girlfriend it was common knowledge to keep her away from him because lord knows once a girl catches sight of him all morals are thrown out the window. Fortunately he did have a type; short and little on the chubbier side. Of course Eren thought all women were gifts from god in their own way but something about manhandling a chubby short girl into any position he wanted until she was crying made his dick jump every time he thought about it.

That’s where you come in.

It was a Friday night after a game and per usual there was a party in Eren’s honor seeing as though he carried the entire team through their last game of the season. Eren was sitting on the couch nursing a red solo cup filled slightly with Hennessy taking small sips every now and again (eren is a dark liquor type of man i wont be elaborating). In the other hand he had a blunt pearled and ready and to be lit until he laid eyes on you. “Holy shit…” he whispered, taking your physique in.

Short was one way to put it, everyone in the room was basically towering over you. The tight black dress you were wearing hugged your curves in the best way possible, the skimpy material barely covering your ass. “Hey Con” Eren grunted slapping Connie in the chest but not once taking his eyes off of you, “who the fuck is that.” Connie looked in your direction and smirked, “that Y/N but don’t even waste your time she just got out of a breakup with Jean he dumped her” he chuckled making Eren roll his eyes.

Jean was the schools quarterback as well as the frat president of the house he was currently partying in. Eren had now noticed you were following Jean around like a lost puppy trying to get his attention but he ignored you pretending you weren’t even there. Poor baby he thought to himself his heart wrenching when he saw tears brim your eyes. You were about to just call it quits and leave but Eren was quick hopping off the couch and right in front of you. “U-um excuse me” you mumbled, bringing your eyes up to the gorgeous emerald ones above you.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you I just saw how upset you were looking and was wondering if you wanted to share this?” he smiled holding the blunt in front of your face. You bit your lip contemplating if you wanted to take the risk of being seen with Eren. The girls here were very protective and cutthroat when it came to him plus Jean was not too far away and- what were you thinking??

“Yeah sure” you gave Eren a small smile and he beamed, grabbing your much smaller hand and bringing you to his previous spot on the couch. “I don’t think there’s enough ro- oh!” you gasped when Eren pulled you onto his lap, his arm finding purchase wrapped around your back. Normally you would’ve gotten right back up and just found literally anywhere else to sit but it felt oddly comforting being in Eren’s strong arms. “So what’s wrong you looked like you were about to cry back there” Eren chuckled lighting the blunt as if he already didn’t have a good idea.

“Well…my boyfriend broke up with me and I thought if I got all dressed up he would- I don’t know it’s stupid. He’s stupid” you pouted and it took everything in Eren not to kiss the adorable pout off your face. “Well for what it’s worth I think you look beautiful” Eren smiled passing the blunt to you, “if I was Jean I wouldn’t let you go for anything in this world.” You were absolutely speechless. Was the Eren Jaeger coming onto you? There’s no way.

Instead of responding you took a couple drags of the blunt trying to ignore Eren’s intense stare. His words kept on replaying in your mind like a broken record until you decided to speak up. “You really think I look beautiful? To tell you the truth I wasn’t so sure about this dress” you giggled starting to feel the effects of the drug. Your body image was never really a problem for you until you met Jean, it’s not like he ever straight up told you but the little microaggressions he would make here and there made you a tad self conscious.

Eren smirked, tightening his hold on you, “of course I mean it Y/N I don’t know if anyones ever told you but I prefer my women on the thicker side. A little tummy on a woman never hurt nobody” he laughed downing the rest of the Henny that was in his cup. By now Eren was the kind of fucked up to where he’d say whatever was on his mind and by the looks of it you were hanging on to his every word. “To be truly honest with you it’s probably a good thing the two of you broke up, Jean wouldn’t have any fucking idea what to do with all this” he whispered the last part in your ear making you whimper quietly.

“Can’t believe I’ve never seen you before, why were you hiding from me?” he chuckled, pulling you impossibly close until your faces were inches away from each other. “J-Jean didn’t want me going to your games, but I did go tonight which is probably why he’s not talking to me” you laughed breathlessly, “you did really good tonight I never actually realized how tall you were until I saw you next to all the other players.” You couldn’t help but trail your eyes to his abnormally large hand rest on your thigh squeezing it every so often.

“Well I am six-seven so yeah I’m pretty tall, I’m assuming you’re about four-eleven? Five foot?” he smiled, giving your thigh another squeeze. In the corner of his eye he saw Jean standing in the kitchen, smoke practically coming out of his ears at the sight of his ex-girlfriend in Eren’s lap. Before you had the chance to answer his question Eren lifted you off of his lap with ease urging you to stand up.

“Let’s get a drink yeah?”

Eren enveloped your small hand in his bringing you to the kitchen, completely ignoring Jean. He grabbed an empty solo cup pouring a shot of Henny into it, “drink up!” he smirked holding the cup in front of your face. You shakily took the cup out of his hand and he could tell you were hesitant so Eren being the sweetheart he was decided to help you out. He leant against the counter and pulled your back into his chest. It took all his willpower not to pick you up and fuck you on the counter with everything he had but he managed. “I’ll take this” he mumbled, grabbing the cup from you and wrapped his other hand around your throat making you squeak in surprise. “Now tilt your head back, open your mouth, and swallow” he grunted and you complied making a smile grace his face once more. He poured the foul tasting liquid down your throat until there was nothing left, “good girl” he whispered in your ear squeezing your neck softly before letting go.

You turned around and looked up at him lust swimming in your bloodshot eyes,”Eren” you whimpered clutching onto his hoodie. “C’mon follow me” he growled, grabbing your hand once more and dragged you upstairs but not before shooting Jean a wink, a quick way of saying ‘I just took your girl and there’s nothing you can do about it’.

Eren went into the first room he could find that was unlocked and pulled you in pushing you roughly against the door once it was shut. “You want me?” he asked tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “because I sure fucking want you.” You couldn’t speak too horny to even function. It was embarrassing. “Haven’t even touched you yet and you’ve already gone dumb how cute. Just nod your pretty little head and I’ll take care of you Y/N.” You were nodding before he even finished talking, feeling your wetness begin to trickle down your thighs.

Eren pushed his hand under your dress cupping your sensitive pussy, the both of you moaning at the contact. “Shit you’re fucking soaked. Good thing too I’m gonna need to prep you before you take me” he growled rubbing your clit over your panties. You brushed your hand against the bulge in his pants gasping at how thick he was, “I’m not even fully hard yet either I’ll let your imagination run wild with that while I eat your sweet little pussy ‘kay?” Before you could reply Eren was on his knees hoisting your thighs over his broad shoulders. Being the good girl you were, you bunched your dress up to your waist giving him better access to your soaked center.

“That’s my girl” he whispered, pressing multiple kisses to your thick thighs sucking on the soft skin every now and again. “Don’t worry about me dropping you either, you weigh as light as a feather to me” he smiled, making your heart flutter. He could sense the hesitation on your face the second he picked you up and had to let it be known now and so on your weight would never ever be a problem in his eyes for as long as you would let him indulge you. “Eren you’re too- oh my gosh!” you squealed when you felt him lick, kiss, and suck at your pussy over your panties, the mixture of your wetness and his saliva soaking the material further.

You pulled your panties to the side to give him better access and his eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of your dripping, bare pussy in front of him. “Oh Y/N…” he whispered, making your heartbeat quicken negative thoughts beginning to swarm in your head. “I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to leave you alone after this, you’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen…never wanna let you go” he spoke more to himself than you. He licked a fat stripe up your pussy then wrapped his lips around your clit, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you. Sweeter than he imagined.

His shoulder length hair that was usually in a bun was down tonight and although he did look beautiful with his hair down from this angle it was slightly affecting his performance. “Baby” he grunted looking up at you through his eyelashes, “would you tie my hair up please it’s getting in my way” he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “Mhm” you whimpered, taking the hair tie from him with shaking hands. “You’re a doll” was all that was said before he dove back in, bringing your body closer to his face. Tying his hair up felt like mission impossible every time you bunch up his hair enough to tie back he would suck hard on your clit faltering your grip, almost like he was doing it on purpose.

“E-eren you’re making it- ah really hard to do this” you whined almost giving up until you felt a slap on your thigh. “Put my hair up or you aren’t cumming” he smirked spitting on your pussy before lapping at it once more. You moaned pathetically letting your head fall against the door and just when you thought it couldn’t get worse you felt something push against your entrance. “Ease up for me baby it’s just one finger” he chuckled, pushing his finger in slightly groaning at how tight you felt around him. “Just o-one?!” you gasped gripping at his soft locs. “Yeah and I actually think you’re ready for two now yeah?” he sent you a wicked smile before shoving a second finger in without warning.

The obscene squelching of your pussy made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but Eren didn’t seem to care curling his fingers in a way that had you dripping on his palm down to his wrist. You bit your lip impossibly hard and tied Eren’s hair up sloppily strands of hair falling out of the bun by the minute. “There it’s tied up can I cum? I need to Eren” you whimpered feeling your thighs begin to shake. “Of course you can baby be a good girl and cum on my tongue” he growled bringing his mouth back to your pussy. Within minutes you were cumming high pitched moans and whines escaping your lips, “E-Eren” you huffed out attempting to push his head away.

With one last kiss to your clit Eren pulled away setting your legs down gently, standing at his height once more he brought his fingers to your lips a single to open your mouth. You sucked on his fingers greedily gagging slightly at how big they were. He pulled them out of your mouth with a string of saliva connecting to your lips, “you know I haven’t even kissed you yet and here you are sucking your cum off my fingers…cute” he smiled squishing your cheeks together. “You want me to kiss you Y/N?” he whispered resting his forehead against yours and you nodded tears brimming in your eyes at how bad you actually wanted him.

Eren licked his lips taking in how adorable you looked before pressing his lips against your shoving his tongue in your mouth. One hand was wrapped around your throat squeezing ever so softly while the other was possessively gripping your waist. Eren was relentless, barely letting you pull away for air then shoving his tongue down your throat. A smile graced his face when he felt your small hands pawing at his cock through his pants, “you want it?” he asked breathlessly, making you nod quickly. “Get on your knees.”

You obeyed, getting on your knees with quickness eager to please him. Eren slowly undid his belt then pulled his pants along with his briefs an accidental laugh escaping when he saw your reaction to his dick. It was a well known rumor on campus that Eren had a massive dick but this was nothing compared to what you thought. “Ten inches the most people can take is about half, but I think you can take all of it because you’re my good girl now right baby?” he smiled answering your question before you even had the chance, he stroked your cheek with his thumb looking at you with pure adoration. “Yeah m’your good girl” you whispered, taking him in your hand. He was so thick your hand could barely fit around and he was heavy, balls full and ready to fill you with every drop he could. You started off slow, taking only the tip in your mouth but as time passed Eren grew impatient insisting you needed a hand so being the sadist he was he grabbed your hair roughly shoving more of his cock into your mouth.

“Yeah that’s it fucking take it” Eren growled the tightness of your throat making him want to cum already. His dick was more than halfway in your mouth which made him adore you even more. He knew his good girl could take his cock with ease. “Just a little bit more c’mon baby you do it- fuck yeah there you go good fucking girl” he praised once his dick was fully sheathed in your mouth. You looked completely wrecked. The eyelashes you had glued on were coming undone and your makeup was streaked due to the tears that were streaming down your face. The glittery lipgloss you were wearing was no longer there, the remnants coated on Eren’s cock along with your saliva. His balls slapped against your chin roughly and you made sure to run your tongue over them adding to his pleasure.

“So fucking good” he brought his free hand to your throat feeling the bulge of his dick and that’s what finally did it. In seconds ribbons of cum were shooting down your throat and of course Eren made sure you swallowed every drop. “Fuck I don’t think I’ve ever cum that fast c’mere” he grunted bringing you to your feet for another sloppy kiss. You brought both your hands to Eren’s softening cock jerking it until you felt him start to harden up. “Mm Y/N” he moaned softly against your lips bucking into you every time you stroked his sensitive tip.

“Lay down…wanna fuck you now” he whispered and you complied taking off your dress before you did so, Eren following your lead and taking off his hoodie giving you a full view of his body. All those years of working out and playing basketball paid off wonderfully. You couldn’t help but drool at his physique. A tanned toned chest, swole arms, and deliciously thick thighs. He was every woman's dream but he was yours tonight.

“Look at you” he spoke softly, settling himself between your open legs “so so beautiful.” He pushed his cock slowly between your folds, coating his dick in your essence. “Look how far I’d be if I put my dick in all the way baby I’d be in your stomach” he chuckled, slapping his cock against your soft tummy, “you gonna let me put it all in you? Want my dick in your tummy?” he grinned at your quiet pleas finally giving into you. Eren gripped your plush thighs pushing them back until they were practically touching your ears before slowly pushing his cock in the both of you moaning in unison. “Eren I-” “I know baby I know so fucking tight” he growled halting his movement to let you adjust.

He was about halfway in and he wanted nothing more than to fill you up, to see the bulge in your tummy every time he fucked into you all he needed was the green light to do so. “You good? Gonna let me put the rest in?” he whispered, bringing his thumb to your swollen clit rubbing slow circles. “Y-yes please Eren” you whined squeezing around him. “F-fuck okay baby tell me if it hurts too much” he groaned pushing the rest of him cock in your already stuffed pussy. Eren rested his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut. You were gripping him like a vice already making him want to cum but he held back using every ounce of strength he had.

After taking a moment to gather himself Eren began fucking into you at a brutal pace the loud claps of his pelvis against your ass echoing throughout the room. “Ohhh shit” you cried, digging your acrylics into Eren’s flexing biceps. Eren brought one leg onto the bed and you knew he was about to put in some serious work. His pace went from fast and shallow to slow and deep, his swollen tip bumping against your cervix every time he fucked into you. “That feel good?” he grunted removing one hand from your thigh instead finding its place on your throat. “Yes Eren s’good” you sighed dreamily bringing both your hands to his face caressing the smooth skin of his cheeks. The moment was so raw, so intimate it honestly made you want to cry. “Feel so good-fuck you’re so beautiful should’ve been with me not him” he growled tightening his grip on your neck. “M’all yours Eren you can have me please please take me” he whined the lack of oxygen making your head fuzzy.

“P-put your arms around my n-neck” he panted planning to show you right now why he absolutely loves shorter women. You complied wrapping your arms around his thick neck, but what you weren’t expecting was for him to lift you up keeping you securely in his strong arms. His dick still remained inside you, the new angle sending shivers down your spine. “Don’t worry baby I’m not gonna drop you just pay attention to me and me only” he pressed a sweet kiss to your swollen lips before bringing both hands to your ass and proceeding to fuck you.

“Yes yes fuck Eren right there” you squealed burying your face into his cologne scented neck. You kissed and sucked at his neck and normally he wouldn’t be into that with his usual hookups but you were different. He wanted you to mark him up in fact he’d show the scratches and bruises proudly around campus letting everyone know he had the honor of fucking you.

Eren roughly pressed your body against the door fucking into you like his life depended on it. Before you knew it you were cumming covering Eren’s lower abdomen and thighs. Your thighs were shaking violently, tears of pleasure beginning to fall from your eyes. “Holy shit did you just squirt?” Eren laughed gripping bringing one hand up to grip your cheeks smushing them together. “Mhmm” you whimpered trying to recover as best as you could from your earth shattering orgasm, “never done that before” you mumbled feeling your cheeks begin to burn. “Want you to do that again… this time in my mouth.”

“Wha-?” before you could muster out anything else Eren was on his knees for you once more, your thick thighs caging his head. He took it upon himself to shove three fingers in your sopping pussy, his lips wrapping around your puffy clit. His fingers were consistently brushing against that spot that drove you crazy and he knew in no time you’d be cumming once again. The pleasure was so overwhelming you hadn’t even realized you were pushing Eren’s head impossibly close against your pussy giving him little to no room to breathe, but he didn’t care too drunk on the smell and taste of you to come up for air. In no time you were cumming once again soaking the entire bottom half of Eren’s face and his chest. “So fucking sweet I should really punsih you for keeping this pussy away from me too long but we’ll save that for next time yeah?” he grinned up at you, his heart rate quickening at your impending answer.

“Yeah…next time” you smiled back down at him, the thought of there being a next time making your heart flutter. Eren picked you up once more, bringing you back over to the bed and he could tell you were getting tired but he couldn’t stop, not until he's filled you up with his cum. “C’mon princess, arch your back for me” he huffed, wiping the excess cum off his face with the back of his hand. You being the good girl for him that you were arched your back giving him a mouth watering view of your swollen pussy. Eren wasted no time slipping himself back inside of your comforting heat feeling his orgasm quickly approach.

He grabbed both your arms pulling you against his chest putting you in a chokehold with his strong bicep (OMFGGGG IMAGINE okay anyways). “I’m so fucking close Y/N can I cum in you? Please lemme cum in you” he moaned pathetically, feeling his balls tighten. “Y-yes Eren please cum in me” you cried your eyes crossing from the lack of oxygen and immense pleasure you were receiving. “Ah fuck!” Eren growled pushing your face in the mattress pounding into you like a madman. With one final thrust he was filling your pussy with his cum so much it began to dribble out of your cunt trailing down your thighs. Eren’s legs gave out making him collapse on top of you, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Um Eren?” your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed into the bed, “you’re kinda crushing me” you giggled. “Oh shit my bad” he grunted rolling onto his back, he pulled you into his side stroking your back softly. The perfect moment was ruined though when the two of you heard the doorknob rattle and then hard knocks at the door, “who the fuck is in my room?!” the voice cried and your heart froze when you recognized it. Jean fucking Kirstien. “We’ll be out in a minute, asshole!” Eren snapped slightly annoyed at the fact that Jean has ruined this soft moment with you.

Eren stood up on shaky legs beginning to put his clothes back on, “get dressed m’gonna take you to my dorm so I can give you some proper aftercare” he smiled tossing you your dress. He sensed the skepticism on your face and looked back at the door trying not to show his annoyance, afraid you would think it was towards you. “I won’t let him say shit to you okay? You don’t need to worry about him anymore plus…I’ll give you a piggyback ride” he chuckled, giving you a cheeky smile that you returned. “Okay okay fine” you giggled putting your dress back on but something was missing. “What about my-” “Oh these?” he smirked holding up your damp panties between his fingers, “I think I’ll hold onto them for a bit.”

Once you looked semi presentable Eren finally unlocked the door revealing a gaping Jean too stuck to say anything. “Great party Jean and we’d love to stay but Y/N needs a little bit of tending to if you couldn’t hear” he smirked wrapping his arm possessively around your shoulders. After leaving the party Eren kept his promise and carried you all the way to his dorm making sure to kiss every mark he left on you along with multiple praises about how gorgeous you were and how lucky he was you gave him a chance. It turns out that Eren was right after all, Jean would never know what to do with all you had to offer…not like Eren does.

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #eren smut #eren yeager fluff #eren jaeger fluff #eren x reader #aot eren #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on titan smut #attack on titan imagine #eren aot #smut #snk eren #my writing #eren <3

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