#but now that he’s been exposed to so many universes and how things can go awry from a single thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venmondiese · 1 month

Text

Stress Relieving Purposes

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆✦•······················•✦•······················•✦⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

For @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge, again thank you so much!!

Trope is friends with benefits and the AU is College AU. The prompts are 23: “this is a one time thing” and 129: “i can’t hold back anymore”

Summary: Exam week is probably one of the worst things humankind has to experience in college, so you have a brilliant idea for you and your bestfriend; get laid. For that, a study group might help you get closer to those you wanna get with. but fate is always a funny thing

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, masturbation (m), (kind of?) sex video, car sex, praising kink, degradation kink, dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m receiving), ✧Word Count: 10.5k ✧taglist: @qyburnsghost ✧˖°⊹♡ @cupidelocke ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧Note: I am so happy and excited, because i loved the trope, au and prompt given to me. I spent days thinking how to make it perfect (i wrote like 4 versions of this, lol) and i am proud of the results. Yes, I went insane and wrote exactly 10529 words, but hey, who is counting?

Aemond Targaryen was always an unconventional man. Even so, an unconventional friend. Maybe you spoke too much, always an extrovert, and he was more reserved. You were always admired by many, and he was always repealing the simps.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Aegon’s party?” You ask almost offended by him, as she comes to sit by his side. He rolls his eye as he turns to look at you.

“I thought you were in Epistemology by now”

“I was” you say to him “But do I care? no. I care more for why you didn’t tell me, Cregan Stark was there” You say to him and patting his shoulder as if wanting him to realise the seriousness of the situation. “Cregan Stark!” You repeat in a low tone.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you...” he says trying to refocus on the paper in front of him, both hands in his temple as he tries to ignore you, yet you appear in his good eye peripheral view.

“Come on, why didn’t you invite me? I thought we were friends” you say looking at him like a wet puppy.

“Do not start-”

“I’ll ask Aegon to do another” you say quickly “He’ll let me go”

“He’ll be the one to try to get in your pants” Aemond says, not looking at you. “And you need someone to present to you to Jace, so he can present Cregan to you. Aegon will do no best than to embarrass you”

You hum, as he knows your intentions well. He was your best friend since the start of college, and you two… worked together. He had your back, and you had his; he heard you ramble about your weekly crush and you heard about the books he read. Of course a friendship between you both was good, as you have managed to get along and become close. Yet, Aemond could not deny the sexual tension sometimes.

As if you didn’t catch him looking at your boobs. As if he didn’t catch you looking at his body in the gym.

“So go with me to convince him” you beg him.

“I am not in mood for parties”

“Because of Alys?” She asks, sighing and rolling her eyes “Get over her, it’s like the twentieth time you two broke up.”

“Seventh time, and it’s not that” he corrects you, turning his head to look at you, and you roll your eyes.

“It is that, I know you” You say looking at him and she takes his right hand and she inspects it “Aha!” You turned his hand to his face “The body of the crime. You have been picking your fingernails” You expose him so easily.

“It was one time, and it is because I have a damn exam Monday that my brain cannot seem to want to study” He says, sighing, and showing you the papers. He looks stressed, like the little eye bags under his eyes tell you enough.

You look at him, and you press your lips together. “Then you need a distraction, like.. Going to a party?”

“Absolutely not” he says, rolling his eyes. “University is for study. Not for parties” He says, looking at you almost scolding you.

“Come on, what did you do when you needed to relieve stress from the last exam season?”

“Alys” he responds with a smirk, which makes you gag. “And things with her that you don’t wanna know.”

“First of all, ew” You say looking at him as you are basically seated on the weirdest position by his side, your elbow resting on the table as you are turned to him, keeping the conversation alive. “Second of all, Alys? Really? You could go to a party and..”

“No parties”

You remain silent a bit as he starts to refocus his attention on his papers, but you can’t just keep quiet, it seems.

“Then get laid”

“I swear to the gods-”

“But think about it!” You say, and you can hear the ´shhh´somewhere in the library, so you sigh “Think about it” You repeat almost in a whisper “Let’s say, I present to you… Floris Baratheon, or anyone else from my friend group. You present me Cregan Stark, and we both get laid. You then, wake up tomorrow with a renewed energy to study to your political philosophy exam, and you get a perfect score as you always did… before her”

“Do you truly think getting laid will help me study? You are so delusional” He shakes his head as he searches for his last essay to have something to study.

“Ouch, rude.” You state “But it will help. She broke your heart!” Your whisper is loud, as if scolding him. “And you are miserable for it, if you don’t believe me, ask your fingers; if they are not too busy bleeding” You add sarcastically.

He squints his eyes at you, and he sighs. You were insufferable, in more than one way. But most of the time, you were right. In an odd and annoying way, you were right. He wasn’t concentrating, at all. No matter how hard he forced himself, it wasn’t working.

“It is clouding your mind. You have to get rid of the problem by root; you either let your frustrations go away, or we just gonna have to kill Alys” You say shrugging.

“Absolutely not.” He says and he rolls his eyes.

He looks at how you really want this, and he sighs. Maybe he could do something that could benefit you both.

“Maybe I could invite them to our study session” He says, almost instantly regretting his choice, but you seem too excited to care.

“Oh… That’s brilliant!” You say excited and you lean to kiss his cheek in excitement, and you lean back.

“I’ll invite Jace, and tell him to bring his friend group. The northerner will be there” He added.

“That is brilliant, truly brilliant” You repeat, and he has to roll his eye at how amazed you seem by his ideas. “We get to study, and then get laid.”

“It’s a study group, not an orgy” He clarifies.

“I know, imbecile. I mean, study… and then after, Cregan and I go to your room…”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT” he clarifies very quickly, and someone also shushes him. “It's going to be in Aegon’s house. I am not risking my own home for people to come, besides, Vhagar hates visits”

“Whatever, it is so exciting!” You say clapping happily as he collects all his papers and books, and the same student at your side tries to shush you again. “I’ll invite Floris and you Cregan”

“You just want to get laid” Aemond says in a sigh.

“You do too” You say, smirking. “For stress relieving purposes”

The thing that Aemond finds annoying, apart from your obnoxious talking, is how indecisive you were sometimes. You would worry and obsess over the smallest details out of control. And it probably bothered him because he was the same.

Much hours later, he was sitting on your bed, as he checked his phone. The photo of him and Alys was still one of the last things in his gallery, and he often looked at it, looking at her smile, at her eyes, and how her hand rested on his leather jacket. He looked happy; as happy as Aemond can look. She has her typical red lipstick, and her hands with the perfect manicure that he liked when scratched his hair.

He sighs, and he bites his lip without knowing what to feel, he hates her, he misses her. But he knows it is for the best to let her go.

“Do not tell me you are looking at her photos” You say on the other side of your dorm, as you apply the last parts of your makeup.

“Can’t I miss her?” He asks you.

“You can, and you will. She was your girlfriend.” The little shrug and how you look away knows you are not teasing him as usual. “You weren’t on the same page”

“How can someone… old can be so… indecisive and not know what they want?”

“Old but immature” You say, rolling your eyes. “I am not one to hate women, you know it is not my style, but I swear, that woman..:”

“I know” He says, turning off his phone, and he turns his head to look at you. “Do you think I'm over that so fast?" he sighs, feeling a little bit of relief as she is serious about the matter. Even if she always teased, she was a good listener when needed. "I don't know what is wrong with me. I miss her, and every time I see a woman I compare them to her" he mutters rubbing his eyes a bit.

“I have been there” You say as you keep applying some blush on your cheek, looking at yourself in the mirror as you keep the conversation flowing. “It is not the end of the world. It sounds mean, but… Nobody died, the world didn’t explode…”

“I know” he murmurs, and he sighs. “But I miss her” he insists.

“Oh, yeah” You roll your eyes as he clearly didn’t hear anything you said at all, turning your head to face him. You smirk almost mischievously as your eyebrows raise a bit “Poor Aemond, missing his sugar mommy”

“She was not my sugar mommy”

“She was the grandma to your Aaron Taylor Joy. The Elvis to your Pricilla, the… Woody Allen to your… I don’t know the name of his stepdaughter.”

Aemond has to laugh at that, because as ridiculous you were, you always made him laugh with your stupid things. It makes him feel better, because he is always serious, and you are so unserious.

“Shut up” he says laughing a bit, and he sighs, feeling slightly better.

“Point is, she is much older and you are much… inexperienced in the field.” You say with a nod “And you are far better not having to live up to her expectations” His hum is the only thing he does, and at least you know he heard you.

“I thought you liked her. When we were together you always were friendly, sharing makeup and stuff” He murmurs.

“I am always going to be a friend of your girlfriends, and a hater when they are your exes.”

You stand up after finishing your makeup, trying to look tidy and clean before the mirror, and you accommodate your hair so it looks fine. It is a bit endearing how you try to look as best as possible, as you reach for perfume before applying it from head to toe.

You look amazing, he has to admit. You wear a green skirt with a black tie front top, very revealing in his opinion, but it was still cute. You even took the time to search for a headband to match it all, which made him chuckle a bit. Even your makeup noted the effort you put into this outfit, and he knew very well what you wanted; to get laid.

“So, I thought that maybe the heels were too much, but these boots are really..”

“We are just going over to study… Wait, are you ovulating?” He asks, looking at the date on his phone, and he looks at you.

“Maybe? Are you asking me that because I wanna get laid?” You say unsure why he asks. “Shut up” you murmur amused at the idea.

He knows you are, for sure. He wasn’t too sure what the effect of ovulation was on women, but for some reason, they were always hotter in those days. At least, you were right now; your figure was well defined, he could even swear your breasts were rounder and firmer. His fingers tap his own thigh as he thinks deep about it, as you ramble about your outfit.

“I can see your ass” He says, looking at you.

“That’s the whole point” You add moving your top a little lower, so your boobs are practically spilling out. “To make him drool for me”

“In a study group…”

“If I like a man, I wanna see him hard just from the sight of me” You clarify as you accommodate your hair.

Aemond is not listening to you. You move slightly as you look in the mirror, and the way you lean to make sure your tits look decent, tempting but not obscene. He has a good view of it, your tits are definitely different. Is it because you are ovulating?

Because you look absolutely gorgeous, showing skin yet it isn’t so indecent. Suggestive? Yes. But it doesn’t make you look bad. It is reasonable. Why do you look so good, though?

“I think I know what is missing” You say as you walk to search for one of your favourite earrings.

As you lean to grab your earring, you quickly put them on and you nod at yourself; you look good. You like it, you feel confident enough to go to a man and flirt.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, feeling Aemond’s eyes bore into your skin, and you look at his reflection in the mirror, and he looks back at you.

“Like what?” He asks in a raspy tone as he accommodates in the bed, sitting with open legs as he plays with his phone in his hands.

“I don’t know” you shrug. “Is it so bad?”

“Horribly bad” he says, trying to tease you but it sounds strangled and you nod satisfied.

As you finish some touches on your outfit, you look at him and nod, “ I am satisfied with that”

He hums, using his phone once again and seeing the image of Alys that was still there when he unlocked his own phone. She was radiant, of course. She was always so… Convincing. But for now, at least, it isn't her who he lusts after. It feels a bit like a betrayal, even if he wasn’t hers and she wasn’t his anymore. Yet… he does not feel guilty.

“One would say that at the seventh time you would have learned something” You say teasingly, and you are quick to move and grab his phone from your hands. “To delete the pictures”

“Give it back” he says trying to grab his phone, quickly standing up and moving his hands, following yours as you try to dodge his attempts. “It isn’t funny”

“It only hurts you, you look like a wet puppy-”

“I don’t want to let her go”

“You must” you insist and he has both arms at the side of your waist, his hands trying to grab his phone behind your back. “Let me delete them. You clearly can’t”

“No”

“You need it”

“It is the only thing I have left” He insists, a bit defeated by it all, he was stubborn (As you also were)

“Trust me” you say softly, looking at him with your kind eyes. Kinder than his ever were. “Trust me” you repeat looking at him.

He sighs, his body against yours and his arms grabbing your wrists. He lets go of his firm grip, but he doesn’t move. He looks at you, with deep eyes and lost in thought. Maybe too close, for your opinion, since his chest practically presses against yours and his breath hits your own face.

“I don’t want to be here when it happens” he murmurs.

“Wait in the car then” you say looking at him. “I’ll delete most of them. Won’t take me more than five minutes”

“Don’t inscribe me in a essosi gay porn site or something, my mum would kill me if she ever-” he says looking at her with slight worry.

“Go” you insist, taking his phone in his hands.

His lockscreen was a picture of Vhagar, the little grumpy thing frowning as much as a cat can, even if it is adorable it was still just a quick change from the Alys wallpaper.

Aemond is probably the most organised person in your friend group,so when you enter his gallery you see all the carpets with photos.

Alys pops up first, as her name started with the first letter in the alphabet. You look at the photo in the cover of the file, and you roll your eyes at the photo. You press the file and it is all photos of her, some with him, some alone. You press one, of where he seems all smiles and she kisses his cheek, and then you select all of those and you sigh.

It was even hard for you, it felt a bit wrong. But you just press delete all the files, and then all 148 photos and videos are gone. You watch the album disappear and back the rest of the albums.

There was one of you.

You frown a bit confused, and there are a lot of moments with you that he organised. You can see some of the photos of the plates you eat together and you posing at the background, ruining his photos (as you like to call it)

There are some selfies, and some photos of you, totally unaware of his doing, you have to giggle a bit, because probably half of them you looked terribly, but you knew he was a gentleman enough to delete those ones

And there is the video.

You do not recognise what it could be at first, the photo of the preview was oddly just the ceiling and the top of his silver hair. You frown confused, because it was mildly recent and you do not remember a video. Aemond wasn’t a fan of videos either, he preferred the immortality of photos.

You hesitantly press it, and the video starts as Aemond sat on his couch. Was it his apartment? Yes. By his clothes, you knew that he came right after the gym. He was wearing that tight black shirt and his sweatpants.

“Tis’ stupid” he murmurs as he sits, and he sighs. You see how he accommodates the camera on the coffee table in front of the couch, and he takes a bit to get it at the right angle. You don’t understand much, as the angle only shows his lower body part, from his torso to his knees.

Once you understand, he is already lowering his sweatpants to his knees, and he sighs. You freeze in place as his very prominent erection comes to light, almost jumping once free from his pants, and he is quick to grab it with his hands, just taunting it softly.

“I’m really horny” he says and he chuckles a bit, embarrassed, you could tell. He was a bit awkward as he presented his erection to the camera. “For you, really…” He admits in a low murmur.

You really don’t see what happens with his hand off camera, but he then starts to slowly caress his erection. That man, your best friend. And you are paralysed looking at that. As he whimpers and masturbates for a camera, his pale skin from his thighs and abdomen showing, and you could see the ring with dragon scales that he never takes off.

“That’s it” he murmurs in a low tone, almost muffled by the microphone as he leans back on the sofa, showing you more of his chest and part of his chin, as he licks his lips. His hands stroke his cock softly, as you can see his right hand goes down to fondle his balls, as the palm of his left hand moves to the tip of his dick and starts moving around it.

It’s… weird, to say the least. You never saw, or thought about him this way. Okay. Scratch that. You never had entertained the idea of him doing this. The idea that Aemond… could be hot. Of course you knew he was hot, but it was different seeing him masturbate as he whimpers and fucks his hand for a camera. And it was… strange. The pleasure accumulating on your belly as you heard him curse. It felt… betraying. Somehow.

“Fuck, Alys-”

You instantly pause the video at that. The name of her is like a bucket of cold water thrown at you, and you snap back into reality. You can feel your cheeks red, and embarrassment floods your senses. Almost trembling, you close all applications and then sigh.

He must have organised it wrongly. You are sure of that. Maybe he meant to delete it? And accidentally ended on your carpet? Weird, but somehow ended there. He must have not meant it, of course… It wasn’t like a tribute to you, probably meant for Alys, since he obviously moaned her name and talked to the camera as if putting on a show.

Ew. Alys really managed to convince the reserved Aemond Targaryen to do this? You are actually quite intrigued and a bit impressed by her.

Once you enter the car, Aemond is resting his head back on his seat, and he barely opens his eyes to look at you, barely turning his head to watch you.

“And?”

“I successfully did the task. And now you joined the Night’s Watch, so don’t worry about that”

“Ha ha” he says, taking his phone back, without more suspicion he just puts it in his pocket. You blink a bit looking at his arms and his lap, and you turn your head to the road.

You two stand in silence as the short drive to Aegon’s apartment, and since Aemond gets brother’s privileges, he totally uses Aegon’s parking spot.

“And his car?” You ask, confused as he parks in the place that clearly has an ‘22F’ and not the one for visits.

“You think that he still has a car? He probably already crashed it while drunk”

“To be fair, I didn’t know what I expected” you shrugged “And I suppose that his career…”

“Yep. He dropped out of Graphic design.” Aemond says without much care, since everyone was used to Aegon just dropping out of college each week. He turned off the engine and looked at you. “So… Cregan Stark”

“Yes, Cregan Stark” you say, as it is your main goal for tonight.

“What is your plan?” He asks leaving the keys in his pocket as he turns to look at you still, the car was off but you two stayed there.

“Well, I go there and I greet him”

“Uh huh…”

“No, no, your nephew. Yeah, so you present me to Jace. And you ask him to present me to Cregan”

“But… what about the impressions?” He looks at you expectantly “You don’t want to be the weird friend from my best friend’s uncle”

“Well, I can’t just… go there and throw myself at him.”

“Okay” He says resting his hands on his thighs, and he taps them “Pretend I am Cregan”

“That is so lame…”

“We did that when I wanted to talk to Alys, remember that you pretended to be her?” He says with a smirk, and he looks at you with a nod.

“Look where it got us” You murmur and he rolls his eyes “Fine, okay, I’ll… stay there”

You step out of the car and sigh. Luckily, there was no one else in the parking lot to judge your weird tradition. You play with the door handle and pretend that you are truly going to talk to Cregan Stark.

“Hey” You say sitting and looking at him.

“Hey” Cregan would say. You move your hair a bit and you smile a bit.

You present yourself and extend your hand, and Cregan would shake it. He was surely very polite, you both knew. So you continue.

“I just saw you from afar and wanted to talk to you” You start saying, as your fingers play with the edge of your skirt as you look at your lap. “Like, outside from the study session, of course…”

“You have to look at him” Aemond murmurs, stepping out of character.

Right. “You surely have seen me in some of Jace’s parties, and in some classes” You add.

“Oh, yeah. I remember his Sevenmas party” Cregan would say, and crossing his arms.

“Yeah! You remember…” Your voice is more light, and you would look at Cregan. “I had a good first impression from you”

“From accidentally throwing Jace’s Sevenmas tree downstairs?” Aemond Cregan would laugh, and you laugh a bit as he leans back on his seat, his hands in his pockets. He is attractive, and you press your thighs together as you accommodate in your seat as well, your body turning to face him even more as your attraction increases.

“It was a bit funny, but it wasn’t… It was a human mistake. I thought it was cute” You say with a thin smile.

“You helped to clean that mess, if I recall” He would point out.

You nod. Even if the real Cregan doesn’t know that, because he was not aware of what happened after he threw it, since he was very much intoxicated and they took him to another room. Aemond and you helped Jace to clean the place.

“I assure you it was nothing.” You insist “I saw you in the campus another times, and I never had the courage to get closer to you”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Well… You don’t…” You hesitate to open your feelings, but fuck it. “You don’t seem the type of men that like girls like me”

“Girls like you?”

You nod and smile a bit embarrassed, looking down at your lap. “Well, You are obviously out of my league”

“I wouldn’t say so” His voice hesitates.

“I would. You are like a superstar in College. I am not.” You shrug a bit, and hum in deep thought.

“Maybe” Cregan would say “Doesn’t feel like it”

“You surely are after pretty girls, like… Cassandra Baratheon or.. Elinor Massey”

“I am looking at a pretty girl” His hand reaches yours, and you look up. His hand is warm, much bigger than yours and very comforting as he squeezes your a bit. Not Cregan, but Aemond. “What makes you think that I don’t like you?”

You blink, a bit unsure. “I…”

“Because I certainly like you very much” Aemond goes on, smiling very subtly, but it was very alluring to you, and his thumb caressed the back of your hand. “You certainly are a beautiful woman. Who wouldn’t want you?” He asks, leaning a bit closer to you and you look a bit hesitant.

“You must be jesting with me” You add, trying to remain confident, but Aemond was doing his doings.

“I certainly am not”

“Then I must insist on kissing you” You add reincorporating and also leaning close to him. “It would be a waste if not…”

Aemond smirks, and his breath hits your face. You knew that he smoked as he waited for you when you deleted his photos, because he smells like cigarettes. You look at his face, his eye looking at your lips and then at your eyes briefly. You both look at each other as your breath and his are practically merging.

“Isn’t it logical?” You murmur, looking at his eyes, and tauntingly you move your chin closer.

You would kiss him right here and now. You remember the video, how you could see his pretty lips and the whimpers that came out of it. How his big and firm hand caressed his cock, up and down and how his abdomen tightened thanks to it. How his balls seem so full and ready to cum…

He smirks. “It sounds like it…”

His phone rings.

You two separated, breaking off the fantasy of it. You sit paralysed in your seat, looking at the other cars parked horrified.

It was your best friend. Yes,you knew he was hot, you knew he was attractive and you certainly know how perfect his cock is, in more than one way. But we are talking about your Aemond. The one who wiped your tears away and the one who would pass book summaries for classes, and his notes for shared classes when you fell asleep.

“Aegon wants me to… uh, buy something…” He says, a bit awkward as well, as he doesn’t look at you, but just assumes you are hearing. “So… I’ll go, you can go up and wait there, yeah..”

Once you step out, you would hope for something else, but he just closes the door as you step out and he leaves in his car.

Other times he would give you Aegon’s house keys, for you to enter normally and do whatever you wanted, since you get brother’s best friend privileges. And Aegon never denied you hanging in his house.

So that is how you find yourself in the middle of the room with a terrified look as you look at the group of people seated in Aegon's living room.

“Hey, Aemond’s shadow” Aegon teases you as he stands up from the couches, and you look at him, a bit embarrassed since all of Jace friend’s

“M’not his shadow” You say trying to defend your image in front of the group.

“You definitely are” He says amused “Nothing to be ashamed of, darling”

“Oh, shush” you say hitting his shoulder “Have you started studying, anyways?” You ask him curiously.

“He told me you wanted to meet Cregan Stark” He whispers close to you, almost too nonchalantly to your taste.

“What, but… b-but Aegon, you’ll embarrass me!” You whisper in panic, as he drags you along, but he shakes his head.

“Aemond told me all ‘bout it. Don’t worry, you’ll be fucking him before you realise it. I’ll even let you fuck in my bedroom” he whispers in your ear before practically pushing you into the living room.

You frown a bit disgusted at the idea, and you hit his shoulder again. He could be very charming and fun, but you knew Aegon and his weird fixations. Who knew, maybe he even had a camera in his bedroom and you certainly didn’t want him to see that.

That reminds you of Aemond’s video. Gods be good, you say as you have to blush a bit at the memory.

“Here she is” Aegon says amused, and you tense your shoulders. Jace greets his uncle and you look at Cregan more shyly than you anticipated.“You sure met this lovely shy flower?”

You cringe at how he presents you, this is exactly why you wanted Aemond to do this job.

“Oh, yeah, yeah you helped me clean my Sevenmas tree when Cregan threw it downstairs” Jace recognizes you and you nod, giggling.

“Yep, it was me”

“Ugh that was so embarrassing” Cregan groans and you laugh a bit.

“it wasn’t as terrible as you think” you shrug.

“You just broke the millennial seven pointed star from my great great great… great great great grandfather Jaehaerys” Jace says, mocking him.

“I’m pretty sure you exaggerated the ‘great great great’ grandfather part”

“It is old as fuck” Aegon confirms with a nod.

“You wouldn’t know a relic even if it was in front of you” Sara mocks him. Aegon rolls his eyes as he goes to open the door of his house, since his other cousin, Baela also was invited.

“Oh, this is Sara, my sister” Cregan takes advantage of Aegon’s disappearance and introduces her to you, and you introduce yourself to her with a smile.

“Lovely name” she says smiling to you.

“She is my uncle’s best friend” Jace adds and Sara knows in acknowledgement, she then looks at both and asks.

“Which one, the hot one or the other?”

“The hot one” you respond with a confident nod.

“The other one” Jace contradicts you and you both look at each other blinking.

“Ohhh” Sara says a bit confused, amusedly as she looks between you both.

“Wait, you find Aegon hot?” You ask to Jace with a face frown

“Handsome in comparison” He clarifies making room for his dignity “And you find Aemond hot?”

“In comparison” You reply back with the same words. “He is my best friend”

Once you are all together, you think how silly this is. Studying together, how an awful excuse to get closer to Cregan. Aemond comes in some minutes later, sitting by your side on the couch. He doesn’t talk much as he takes out his books and notes.

“Floris, you came” you say as she was the only stranger in the group, and you make a space between Aemond and you, after all, you were playing cupid too. “Sit here!”

The thing with study groups is that everyone is on a different boat. You didn’t have many complaints, you have the same class but on other days, so you just swallow information as Aemond, Jace, Baela and Cregan are the ones more interested in the concepts since their exam is earlier than yours.

You watch Cregan speak, and how he is a bit wrong in central ideas, which Aemond is quick to point out, but you try to correct him smoothly and without making him feel useless.

At one point, you all agree to give up and ask for a pizza in the break, and after it to keep study (That’s what all study groups say before doing the opposite)

In the break, you can hear how Aegon, Baela, Jace and Sara are in the kitchen. Fighting with Aegon as he makes the call for the pizza, screaming at him how they do not want any pineapple on it. Floris has gone to the bathroom, and Cregan went to the balcony to smoke in peace.

You look helplessly as he leaves, and soon Aemond is talking to you.

“And?” he asks curiously, looking at where Cregan disappeared.

“He hates me” You tell him, looking at him with a sigh “He clearly has no interest in me, I didn’t know what I expected”

“I told you Aegon would fuck thing up” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“It is not fucked up” You add, stubbornly. “I still have a secret weapon”

“Showing him your tits doesn’t qualify as a secret weapon”

You hum in annoyance and decide to subtly change the subject “And Floris?”

“Too… perfect” He murmurs, not looking at you “I should go back to her.”

You look at him incredulously and hit his chest “Too perfect?” You ask with a snark “Just… hook up. She wants to” You shrug and pat his back

“Fine. I’ll hook up with her. Do not ask for a ride, because I’ll be busy”

“Hopefully, I will too” You say, excited at the idea “I'll be with him. Can you handle me a fag?” You ask.

“You don’t smoke” He says incredulously at the idea that you would fake smoking for a man.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll have to ask Cregan, how bad” you say mockingly as you stand up with a smile and walk to the balcony to open it.

Cregan is there and he turns to look at you. He acknowledges you with a nod, and you smile shyly as you close the sliding door.

“Hey. Care to share with a poor lady?” You say

He chuckles and handles you the cigarette, now minding to look at you as he leans on the balcony to look below at the ground. You put the cigarette in your mouth and before you can cough, you throw the air out. A pathetic attempt, but Cregan was not watching you anyways.

“I thought.. I thought you went to Winterfell’s Uni” you say looking at him, leaning on the balcony too as you pass the fag back to him. “Since, well, your family basically founded the institution”

“Oh, yeah, yeah” He says in a raspy tone as he scratches his beard a bit, crossing arms as he leans against the balcony to face inside of the flat, watching how Floris comes back from the bathroom. “But, Jace did two semesters there, and so as his best mate, it’s my turn to do the semesters… here” Cregan says with a nod.

“Oooh, how fancy” You say without really knowing what to say. With Aemond it had been easier, you just talked to him and flirted with him naturally (Because he was just acting as Crean, no other reason), but with the real Cregan it was awkward. “And… ehm, do you like it here?”

It was painfully and horribly awkward. You were tense, and more than attracted to him, you looked terrified.

“Yeah, yeah, College is fine, I guess” He shrugs, not really immersed in the talk as he smokes looking at the inside of Aegon’s flat.

“We… We actually share another class” You dare to speak again “Logical thinking, Wednesdays in the morning” you say looking at him with a bright smile.

“Does he always look at you like that?” He asks, pointing at the living room with his cigarette, before smoking another puff.

You turn your head to look where he pointed out, and you blink a bit. Aemond looks at you as Floris Baratheon is talking to him, she wears a pretty floral yellow dress and her long dark hair is loose. Floris has always been as beautiful as kind, and you know she has been interested in Aemond long enough. Not a crush, you’d say, maybe for a hookup.

“He is just looking after me” You clarify looking back at Cregan.

“Hm” he says, the cigarette on his lips, he lets out the smoke.

Cregan either didn’t care about Aemond, or he just ignored him, as he passed his cigarette to you, not looking if you properly smoked it.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to” You say smiling to him, and you hear how Jace and Aegon talk about drinking some vodka or tequila to ‘suppress the stress in the room’

“It was no problem” He says, with a chuckle looking inside again “You like vodka?”

“A little too strong for me” You say with a laugh.

“Oh” He says looking at you “Well, in the North you can buy one basically in every corner. More when it is Winter”

You blink a bit, and you nod. Did you just fucked up? Because you remember how offended Aemond was when you told him Dragons weren’t that cool. Maybe it was the same for Cregan… You look at him, and he is inside once again, not really minding at you.

“I am sure in the north it is more tasty” You try to save the situation, and you briefly look at where Floris is, but not at the sight of Aemond. “Which is your favourite flav-”

“Do you know Alysanne Blackwood?” He asks suddenly, and your cheeks burn due to that.

“Oh?” You ask confused.

“I do not mean to be rude” He adds, looking at you “You are a lovely lady, but you see.. I am after another girl. Like Jace’s uncle is after you”

“Aegon is not-”

“The other” He says as if it was obvious. “And I have been wanting to get with Alysanne for a long time, do you know about her business with Frey's girlfriend?”

You blink confused at him, and you shake your head slowly.

“No, not really…”

“Oh, a pity. Jace and I have been dying to know about it, to know if she is single, I mean. And if she is interested in men as she is to women..” From the start of the conversation, this is the most he has talked about. And it didn’t involve you. But his crush who he was after.

“I am pretty sure that…” You say looking at your hands, a bit nervous “That Oscar Tully must know, he is into gossip and-”

“Thank you” Cregan says smiling to you, before patting your shoulder and leaving you alone at the balcony, as Jace calls his name from inside to decide between vodka or tequila. You remain confused, ashamed and a bit awkward.

You walk inside to spot Floris once again. She has a juice glass on her hand and she is talking to Baela, both sitting on the couch, but you didn’t see Aemond.

“Hey, Flo” You say, patting her shoulder, and she smiles as you join them. “Have you seen Aemond?”

“Aemond?” She asks with a laugh, and she shakes her head “He wasn’t that interested in me, y’know, like I even offered to go to one of Aegon’s rooms, but he wasn’t in the mood.” She shrugs nonchalant, because that was Floris, she never made a deal if things didn’t end up happening.

“Oh” You say, a bit confused. He said he was going to go with her. “And he didn’t say..?”

“Nope” She shrugs “Maybe Aegon knows”

“If he is not too busy fighting with Jace about the drinks. Thanks”

As you pull Aegon aside, you can see how Jace and Cregan take out the vodka drink from Aegon’s collection and they offer it to everyone (Which is only the other three girls, but it was a majority)

“No idea. He said he was going to go to the gym, but I don’t think so. He took his cigarettes, so probably smoking” Aegon shrugs, as he makes himself a drink with tequila (You are very sure he got the measures wrong, because no drink has that much whisky) “Maybe he is in his car, texting Alys like the sad meow meow he claims to be”

You roll your eyes, but you thank him. You leave the apartment, in a different way you thought you would be leaving. Hopefully, with Cregan it was your bet. Now, it was all alone and in search of Aemond.

Once the lift leaves you on the parking floor, you walk a bit to encounter Aemond, his back leaning against the copilot's seat by his car, his phone on his right hand and a cigarette in his mouth. He doesn’t look like someone who was at a party, less someone who seems to be having fun.

“Hey” You say softly, finally speaking in a normal tone after so much noise.

Aemond looks up, frowning to see you in front of him like a wet puppy. “What are you doing here? And Cregan?”

You sigh, and you look at the ground. You tried, so hard. You did all kinds of juggling, for nothing. He wasn’t even interested in you, the whole time.

“Hey” He says as he throws his cigarette to step on it, and he saves his phone from his pocket, two steps and his arms are all around you, hugging you safely in his chest as his chin is in the top of your head. “It’s okay, it’s okay..” He says soothingly, rubbing your back as if he knew you would cry.

And you normally wouldn’t truly, but his soothing actions and caring nature makes you a bit more vulnerable than usual. Not crying, but you feel more disappointed as he tries to make it better.

“He is an asshole, you will get over him..” He says softly “It’s fine, do not…, I’m sorry” He says rubbing your back

“Tis not your fault” You murmur as you lean your head on his chest.

“I should’ve been the one to pair you with him, not leave Aegon to it”

“It would have gone horribly anyways.” You say, passing your arms in his waist to hug him back. It was nice to have him close and hugging you. “He is just… Not interested in me” You add, a bit frustrated. “Because I apparently suck and am the most boring girl ever”

“You are not” He says sternly, moving a bit back to look at you, and you look up at him “You don’t say that, you are…” He looks at your face, as if finding words as he tries to remember each tiniest detail of your expression; how your eyes look up to him, how your mouth is like a pout, and how your cheeks are a slight shade of pink. “You are incredibly amazing.”

You look at him for a moment, both of your faces so close and you look at his lips. He was so charmingly handsome, and the way he comforts you makes you feel secure enough to gain some confidence. And for him… he couldn’t bear it any longer, he can’t physically hold back.

The kiss you two share is maybe purely impulsive, or maybe it is the consequence of a long shared tension between you both. But at the moment, neither of you pay any mind to the fact.

In his arms, he has caged you and his hair briefly falls,touching the sides of your face and some of your cleavage. You squeeze him a bit in your embrace, kissing him back eagerly and it is slow, passionate and something that it was obviously longed for.

Aemond moves your hair to take it in his hands, his fist grabbing a handful of your hair as he moves his arms away from the hug, now holding you to stay as he deepens the kiss and his (and your) desire grow and grow.

Maybe you both didn’t want to stop the kiss not to face the consequences, how kissing a friend would potentially ruin your friendship, and nothing will ever be the same. You certainly don’t want the after talk about it afterwards.

“Mhm” Aemond says as you both separate. “This is much better, Yeah?” He says nuzzling his nose in your cheek as his voice is like soft silk. You were a bit confused of this all, of this weird way of comforting you. “You made sure to look so beautiful for a useless boy, mhm? Cregan Stark cannot call himself a man when he cannot appreciate a pretty girl like you.” He says softly, his hands caressing your back, and going down to the lower of your back, where your naked skin shows.

You are a bit confused, still leaning to his affections because damn if they aren’t nice. Your body practically craves it, part as to why you were so looking forward to getting laid.

“Aemond, we…”

“Shh, I know…” he murmurs as he leans to leave a little kiss on your neck. “But… we had a goal for tonight, hm? Didn’t we?” His tone is soothing, almost hypnotic. “It could do good for us” He adds softly, moving your hair to plant another kiss on your neck.

“We… we are best friends…” You say, a bit worried about ruining it. There was a clear difference between platonic and other feelings, romantic or sexual. And as clear as it came, it was also very thin.

“This is only a one time thing…” He murmurs, his hand still caressing your back and waist. His head slowly rises from your neck to look at you with his eye full of lust and starving desire. “For stress relieving purposes, yeah?”

You are convinced by his words, because Aemond could always be convincing enough. You knew that, but you also knew that you longed for him. It was as if all the day was aimed up to this moment; the video, the small tease in the car and now this kiss.

You quickly realise that you want him, as much as he seems to want you. At the same time, you both need it. Alys, Cregan, the exams and all had you on your nerves. It was like walking in eggshells around the other, because your body and mind couldn't take a break after one thing, because in fact, life never waits for you to recover, just goes on and you are expected to go along on or get lost in the way.

“Yeah. yeah, fuck me” You murmur in his lips as now it is you who kisses him back, pressing boldly your body to his, as your hands move away the hair from his face. He still smells like cigarettes, and his scent is masculine, maybe the new cologne that he bought a few weeks ago. The way that he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him was almost desperate, almost as if he never wanted this to end. He is craving it, he is starved.

He basically handles your body to the copilot’s seat, pushing it all the way back and lowering the backrest a bit lower, but not too much. He sits on it and practically drags you to his lap as he desires, closing the door behind you. You have to lower your head a bit, but he takes no time in passing his hands under your shirt and all the way in your back.

“You are not wearing a bra” he notes looking at you raising his eyebrows.

“Doesn’t the building’s parking lot have cameras?” You ask looking out the windows.

“Answer me” He says, looking at you. “You are not wearing a bra”

“No. The shirt is a bit tight on the chest area, it basically is like a push-up..” You murmur looking the other way “Are you sure that there aren’t any…?”

“I don’t care” He murmurs, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulls you against his chest, as he kisses and nibbles your neck. “I hope they do. We could have a sextape of this moment” He says smiling as he moves lower to your collarbone.

“Aemond!” You say a bit flustered, and his hot kisses feel so good in your skin, and you move your hands to grab his hair.

“You make me so hard, I cannot hold back anymore” He says desperately, moving your chin to share another kiss between you both. You were as desperate as him, but you were more subtle, he thinks, because he knows you well.

He knew that you were cautious, following his lead. You might be confused, and a bit hesitant to ruin your friendship with him. But not doing this probably will do, he is sure of that.

He takes your hand and moves it to the bulge on his black pants, and you look down. Gods, even when clothed, his cock was huge. You had seen it in video, but touching it and looking at it, made you drool. You looked at him, and he was staring at your eyes, pink cheeks as he looked flustered.

“You make me so hard” he murmurs, looking at you “So, so hard. Your slutty green skirt, and that shirt that barely hides your tits, Gods woman, you were right, you could make any man drool for you” he says moving the hair out of your face.

“I wanna suck you” you murmur, your eyes hesitant and almost innocently looking at him. Fuck, he could cum just at those words coming out of your mouth.

You accommodate as you can in the floor of the car, a bit awkward and your upper body forcefully is forward, right at the height of his cock. You look up at him as you unbuckle his belt, the little metallic sound makes your pussy more wet, as Aemond looks at you almost amazed.

He lifts his hips as you lower his pants and underwear, his dick jumping free, standing fully hard and leaking a bit of precum at the tip, which is a little red and it is a bit swollen. It was better in person.

You lean a bit, as you spit on the head of his cock, and pass your hand through it, as Aemond lets a low “Fuck” as his hips tense and hesitates, as if he was holding back.

“Cregan Stark doesn’t deserve you” He says as your hand goes up and down on his cock, and you look up to him. He likes it, how powerless and innocent you look sitting between his legs and stroking his hard cock. It makes his ball tighten more. “Look at you, a needy girl for a cock” He says moving his hand to caress your cheek, and his thumb caresses your lower lip.

Your lips encircle around his thumb, and suckle just a little bit, as your hand keeps stroking his dick, slowly but firmly. Your pussy is aching with need, one of your hands barely touches your pussy over your panties, and you melt a bit as you suckle his thumb.

“I love your cock” You admit, looking at him with needy eyes, and he knows your words are sincere. “Tis better in real life”

Aemond frowns as he tilts his head, confused as to what you mean. “Hm?”

You don’t respond, as you stroke it and move to leave little kitten licks in the top, but he moves your chin away, as you forcefully try to get back to sucking his dick.

“No, tell me what you meant” His voice is like one when scolding a child, but you shake your head, trying to get your way. “Don’t be a brat”

“I saw it before” you say, moving his hand away, and he doesn’t make it go back. “In a video, earlier. It was in your gallery”

He realises what you mean, and he slaps your face slightly with his right hand. It wasn’t harsh, but you realise two things. The power this man had over you, and how much you liked that fact.

“Needy whore” he murmurs, looking at you, and you almost whine as he slaps your hand away from his cock. “It was not meant for you to see”

“It was on the carpet with my name!” You say to him.

“You touched yourself while seeing that video, hm?” He asks, leaning a bit, sitting back as his face is over yours. You almost whine again. “Your pussy was always so needy for my cock, hm? You couldn’t even get closer to Cregan tonight. If he was the one fucking you right now as you slutty brain wanted, you would still be thinking of my cock”

You lick your lips as his eyes are penetrating on yours, and you don't respond to his words. It may be a harsh truth, but how it turned you on.

“Little needy thing you are” He murmurs, leaning back again so he can rest against the back of the seat. He takes his dick on his hands, and smirks mischievously as he slaps it on your check. “Needy for this? This is what you want?” He mocks you as he slaps his cock in your cheek and closer to his mouth.

“Yes” you murmur blushing and trying to lick it as he does so, and he lets a shake breath at your naughty action.

“Open your mouth”

He grabs your hair again in his fist, the same hair he saw you so dedicatedly to make sure it was perfect, and he lowers your head to suck him off. Your throat takes his cock as he bobs your head, moaning breathlessly as he uses your mouth for his pleasure.

And you love it. His hips start to lowly thrust in your mouth, abusing your throat as he looks down at you. You looked so hot, so perfect. He didn’t know how you two didn’t do this before.

“Yeah, just like that” he murmurs fucking your throat before he lets you breathe a bit after so much time without air. You feel as if those minutes were barely seconds as you sucked his dick. “Come here. Take off your panties”

You don’t have to be told twice.

He lifts up the end of your skirt, as he holds your waist a bit. He looks at you, and his thumb moves to clean the drool in your chin.

“There is… there is a condom behind you” he murmurs and you tilt your head “there are condoms in the glove compartment”

You frown, but you take one off, and Aemond is the one to put it on himself, while you watch “How optimistic to save condoms there” you say smirking a bit.

“Oh shut up. Look, it serves for something now” he says smiling as his hand caresses your thigh. “I will prep you” he murmurs, moving his fingers closer to your centre.

“No” You stop his hand and you look at him. He frowns, and of course you want his fingers on your pussy. “I want your cock better”

Now he doesn’t have to be told twice.

You two accommodate as you can, he helps you lower your hips in his cock, and you hold from anywhere you can, really. The sting is pleasurable, and you don’t mind it, not when Aemond has you so wet and aching for this. His hard cock fills you slowly, but it was so pleasurable feeling how it opens you to take it.

“I don’t think this will work” you murmur, and he opens his eye to look at you.

“What…?”

“I cannot… My head hits the ceiling” You say as you have to lean your head to the side to sit properly on his lap. He looks at you, and he chuckles amused. “It is not funny”

“It is!” He argues back, laughing as his hands rest on your thighs, and you slap his chest playfully. “Come here, I’ll manage” he promises.

You sigh amused and you lean forward, pressing your chest to his as he wraps his arms around your waist. You pass your hands to his shoulders and look at his face that is so close to yours.

“Now, it is more comfortable?”

“Yeah” you say looking at him “But I also feel watched, since I can see the window by our side”

“Gods, woman” he says playfully slapping your ass, which makes you jump “Just ride the dick”

It was your Aemond. You know, because you don’t think you have ever been so comfortable having sex. It was natural, and you didn’t feel judged by him. He was your best friend,

Your hips go up and down on his cock, and your little moans are right in his left ear, delighting him as your pussy stretches as you ride him. Your moans are more like sobs, and his hands go over to your ass to help you lower yourself on his cock.

One of his hands moves to the knot in front of your tie front top, and he grabs one end and once it is open, he moves his mouth to eagerly suck on your tits.

“Aemond” Your whimpers come as he starts nibbling on them, and your moans are more desperate, and your cunt squeezes his cock harder.

His hands go back to your ass, and he spanks you as you let a little whine in full pleasure. He made sure to stimulate you whenever he can, and he is succeeding.

“You are a needy slut” he murmurs looking up to you, and you nod.

“Yeah, yeah, please…”

“Only for my cock” he adds, and he slaps your ass again, forcing your hip to stay still on his lap “Not Cregan” he adds “Not anyone”

“Aemond” you whine, winning another spank.

Now his hips start to thrust in you, making you whine and moan again, your body limp as you lay atop of his chest. He always knew you were a pillow princess.

“Who is making you feel this good?” His voice is a grunt, as he moves his hips up and pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

“You” you moan, and he groans as your pussy feels so warm, and perfect.

“And who am I?”

You hesitate to answer the philosophical question, unsure what his point was.

“Who am I to you?” He asks again.

“M-My best friend” you answer as he spanks you once again, the slap stings in your ass, moaning as your head rests on his shoulder, moaning right on his ear.

“Yeah, yeah, your best friend is making you cum, hm?” He says smugly, as he moans a bit more.

Again, hearing him moan and whimper on a video is one thing, but in real life…

“Fuck, fuck…” He says as he starts to feel close, his head leaning back in the seat and he turns his head to his left to look at you, your face on his shoulder and your left hand grips on his right shoulder.

“I am going to cum” you say almost submissively, he finds it so hot.

“I know” he says equally without breath.

“You make me feel so good” you say, your breath hits his face as he does the same on yours.

“You do too. So good, so perfect. You are nothing less but” He starts to ramble a bit, and you whimper as you press your forehead on his shoulder, looking down a bit to see how his dick fucks you.

As you cum, moaning loudly, and your forehead almost nuzzling on his shoulder, he feels his balls tightening more and more, slapping your ass a few times more as you whine from it. Your body is almost limp, and you creaming on his cock has to be one of the best feelings ever.

His cum comes hard and intensely, just as Aemond was overall. You wish there wasn’t a condom in between, but it was equally as good. You look at his profile as his mouth opens as he cums, his eyes closing shut as he spends on the condom.

You two fall into silence, still against each other, sweating and tired. The windows were all soggy and you giggle a bit without breath, at how insane this is.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing” you say.

“Little minx” he says smiling as he looks at your face.

“So, are you more clear of mind to study?”

“I am so going to fail that damn exam” he says with a chuckle, as he looks in front of him and moves some wet hairs out of his face. “Going to be thinking of your pussy all test”

You have to chuckle a bit, and you sigh. “Mm. Maybe.” You say with a smirk.

“But… if we go back to my place, and I fuck you properly on my bed, as you read to me all the concepts, I might pass the test”

You sit straight up, and slap his chest playfully. “Fine, but only because you are so stressed” you say mockingly and he nods, as if he was miserable due to it.

“So, so stressed. How lucky I have my best friend to help me with that”

666 notes · View notes

goldengalore · 1 year

Text

Intimacy

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)

A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)

***

His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.

There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.

His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.

Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.

It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.

“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.

“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.

“Oh, just your hands.”

His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”

“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”

A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”

“Mmm, not really.”

She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.

“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”

Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.

“I missed you too, H.”

“This week made me realize something.”

Her heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”

His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.

When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”

“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.

He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.

She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.

“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.

She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.

It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.

“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.

“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”

“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”

A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.

“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.

“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“But I made things awkward!”

“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”

She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.

“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”

She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.

After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.

“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”

“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”

“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”

“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”

“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”

“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”

She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”

He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”

“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”

Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”

She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”

“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.

“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.

He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”

“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.

“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”

“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.

“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”

“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”

Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”

“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.

She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.

***

When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.

Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.

It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.

He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.

“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Hmm… A couple days ago?”

“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”

Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.

“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”

“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”

She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”

He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.

“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”

She swallows. “Yup.”

He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.

“Careful,” he says.

She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.

“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.

She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.

He smiles. “There you go.”

“Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”

They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.

After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”

She responds with a tiny nod.

“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”

“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.

“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.

“That’s good. Keep doing that.”

Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.

He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.

Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.

That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.

“Does this feel good?” he asks.

She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”

Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.

“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”

He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”

She frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.

He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.

After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.

“Can I dry you off?” he asks.

She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”

“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.

Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.

Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.

“All good?”

She just blinks at him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”

“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”

“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”

It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.

“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.

***

“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.

A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.

She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.

“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.

A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.

“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.

She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.

“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.

She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.

He frowns. “What are you doing?”

She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.

“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.

“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.

Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.

“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”

“I do.”

He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.

She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.

“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.

She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.

“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.

She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.

“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”

Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”

She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”

“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”

She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.

Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”

His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.

“Okay,” she replies.

***

Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.

Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.

“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.

Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.

“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”

“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”

Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”

Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.

“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.

She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”

“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”

He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”

“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”

She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.

“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”

“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”

“Baby…”

He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”

“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.

He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”

“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”

It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.

Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”

“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”

“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.

“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”

She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”

She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”

He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.

After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.

That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.

Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.

“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”

She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”

A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”

“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”

“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”

“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”

“Of course!”

“There’s your answer then.”

She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”

They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.

It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.

He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.

“Harry—”

The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Please,” she whines.

He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”

She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”

“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.

He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.

Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #domrry #dom!harry #anxious!reader #my writing

5K notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 4 months

Text

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29

WC 2500, Masterpost

A Press of the Button:

An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice

By Clark Kent

“I’m going to throw up.”

I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.

“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.

When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.

Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.

As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.

Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.

Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny’s trap.

Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.

And survived.

It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.

Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.

Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”

Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.

“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.

When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”

The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.

We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.

“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”

“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”

“I take it you two are close then?”

“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”

“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”

“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”

It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.

Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”

“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”

“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”

“How did your parents take that?”

A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”

“The lab?”

“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”

By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.

“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”

“But you thought that you might survive.”

“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.

Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”

When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.

“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.

“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.

“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”

I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.

“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”

“And then Jason was on the screen.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”

“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”

“Why?”

“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”

While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.

I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”

Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?

“Danny, what did you mean?”

“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.

I ask about that certainty.

Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”

What about the chance of survival?

“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”

“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”

“Absolutely.”

And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.

“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”

I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”

So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.

“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”

“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”

And now?

“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”

Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.

“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”

I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.

---

AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.

I hope you enjoy it!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

601 notes · View notes

darkcircles4lyfe · 2 months

Text

To Build Something Else

Whenever I read a fanfiction that takes place in the future where the hero kids continue their schooling as normal and emerge as pro heroes into the existing system, I always kinda view it as like, “AU where things weren’t as bad” or “AU where everyone is still pretending that this is the way things should be” or “AU where good and evil are morally uncomplicated.” I’m not trying to call anybody out—I’ll still read and enjoy these sometimes—but that’s how I’ve always looked at it. I’m starting to notice other people feeling it too. I’ve read fics where they point out how redundant and unfair it is to go back to being students after saving the world (remember how many pros straight up quit and left a bunch of kids to keep fighting?). I’ve seen people acknowledge how trauma will affect their ability to keep going. Perhaps the trickiest thing to wrap our heads around is how the villains will fit into it all if not through death, punishment, or imprisonment. What about all the other trappings of society? The heavily regulated quirk use, the government-funded pros aiding police control and contributing to cover-ups that maintain the illusion of peace. Hero idolization, quirk counseling, civilian helplessness. Judging a person’s worth or character based on their quirk…

It would sound too obvious and cheesy to simply point out that society isn’t “just the way things are,” that change is possible. We all know this, and yet we struggle to pinpoint exactly where to aim our sights, find the source, make any meaningful progress. The other day I read some articles from my university’s student newspaper around 1970, and it made me feel sick wondering if progress is really an illusion. Fact is, it’s easy to intellectually deconstruct society, but very difficult to imagine how to build something else.

In this fictional world, heroes have offered a mythical vision of safety and triumph. When All Might arrived, everything was going to be okay. But let’s not forget how this story began: with a moment where All Might paused, like a bystander, and in his place, a desperate civilian kid hurtled forward without any common sense. If you ask me, it wasn’t that Izuku was so good and pure and selfless, it was that he disregarded everything.

And so the person who “saves the world” (if we can even reduce it to such a concept) is not the person who puts everyone at ease and makes crowds cheer. It’s the person who makes everyone hold their breath, with a feeling in the air like the pressure changed, and it smells like rain. It is natural to be worried about the future. It’s honest. It means you can see what’s really going on. Hero society has never felt this exposed, but the people are held back from the edge of despair because there is also so much potential brewing. Electricity about to strike. The world will NOT go back to the way it was, no matter what. That much is certain. But what if we still live to see the dawn? What then? What if one person’s courage to break the mold makes all the difference?

I’m not just talking about Izuku, you know. I’m talking about Horikoshi.

To an extent, I’ve given up on predicting how exactly things will play out, because if nothing else, I can tell he’s planning something big—so big, I can’t quite picture it. I’m watching and waiting for the one person who can. I just know where he’s coming from. I think about how he’s never come this far before because his other stories were snuffed out. I know he used to struggle to see the future of his career. I relate to his stubbornly rebellious resolve to do what he wants anyway. To keep dreaming. I know that emotional sincerity is his specialty. And now he’s even directly breaking the fourth wall, having characters talk about what’s supposed to happen in comic books. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we’ve been shown how something else can happen. He’s not done yet.

#listening to bastille's give me the future album again and feeling things #bnha 416 #bnha 417 #bnha manga #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #all might #bnha meta #lin speaks #bakudeku #dekubaku #bkdk #dkbk

200 notes · View notes

srjlvr · 8 months

Text

ENHYPEN — As Love Tropes !

희승 ✶ (heeseung) | childhood friends to lovers (0.191k)

meeting heeseung for the first time wasn’t awkward at all! you both were eight and hella energetic, you befriended each other as fast as the light. both of your mothers being supportive and happy with your friendship, they forced you two to meet up at least three times a week.

as you grew up, so did your feelings for each other. every day you’d spend your time together, walk to school and then walk home together, even working in the same part time jobs and taking the same shifts to be together.

you were so desperate to confess your feelings to him, and he did too, but it always felt so forbidden to confess, as if it’s going to ruin your friendship entirely.

until one day, heeseung accidentally exposed himself.

“you look so cute in here” he giggled as he looked at the pictures he took of you, “no wonder i like you” he chuckled. you shot your glance at him as he froze, “you…” you whispered.

he coughed, changing his gesture and stepping closer to you, “i like you…” he smiled, finally confessing and not minding about his concerns anymore.

제이 ✶ (jay) | soulmates (0.190k)

you’ve been searching for your soulmate for quite few years already, and you’re almost about to give up.

you got tired of hearing your parents’ love story again and again, how their “eye color changed and the whole world stopped for a few seconds” when they first met each other.

it was a soulmates thing, and “when the right time will come, you’ll know it” — at least that’s what your parents have always told you.

you tried to be more social, going out to parties and meeting new people, just to find your soulmate, but every effort of yours got wasted—not entirely though because now you have loads of friends!

but then you met him, when you didn’t even try or expected to meet him, you did. you accidentally bumped into him while walking with your friend, and as soon as you shared an eye contact, you suddenly felt everything your parents told you about.

“i’m jay” he smiles, “y/n” you shortly replied. your friend who was patiently waiting for you was long forgotten and all you could focus on was him, “i guess i finally found you, soulmate”

제이크 ✶ (jake) | highschool sweethearts (0.204k)

it’s been a few years since jake got his eyes on you, it was love at first sight. you’ve been classmates ever since seventh grade, and both of you slowly became popular and social amongst other students at school.

everyday, he would leave a snack on your desk with a cute note and his name on it, you’d do the same, leaving chocolate bars on his desk with a cute note that has your name in it.

it was no secret that the both of you had been crushing over each other for so many years, yet you’ve never dated. your ‘friendship’ was too sweet and innocent.

until you decided to officially confess to him, and it was no surprise that he returned the feelings. everyone in the school cheered for you two, they’ve been waiting for this moment more than the both of you.

even after highschool your relationship kept strong, he loved you more than anything else, and you made sure to shower him with love as much as you can.

your shared friends always looking at you with such jealousy in their eyes, but “what can we do? we’re the best highschool sweethearts” you teased your friends and pecked jake’s lips.

성훈 ✶ (sunghoon) | enemies to lovers (0.187k)

(i think we can all agree that e2l is so sunghoon coded)

elementary school gave you headaches, especially when the boy you hate the most is always up you ass. but now you’re in highschool, expecting something to be different— oh i bet the universe is laughing it’s ass.

park sunghoon, your worst enemy, the biggest rival you’ve ever had (your first and last rival-) he made sure to make your highschool life a living hell.

always teasing and making jokes about you, he knows very damn well how to piss you off. you tried to avoid him as much as you can, but it’s hard when he’s the one following you.

“stop following me,” you rolled your eyes, “i might think you like me or something”. he stepped closer to you, you stepped back until you bumped into the lockers. he looked deeply into your eyes and smiled, “there’s nothing wrong with liking you”

he then left, leaving you confused and dumbfounded. your cheeks however, turned as red as a tomato— what is wrong with you?!

the poor boy was a blushing mess as well, smiling widely while thinking about how cute you looked so close to him.

선우 ✶ (sunoo) | fake relationship (0.194k)

your best friend sunoo, was willing to help you with whatever you need, whenever you need. so when you asked him to fake date you to make the person you’re crushing over jealous he immediately said yes, even when he was the one crushing over you.

you and sunoo had boundaries, but even with them, you couldn’t help but notice how good he was treating you, acting as if he was your real lover.

as a week passed by, your crush was long forgotten, all you could focus on was sunoo. he was treating you right, from picking you up to school till making you breakfasts and lunches because he knows you’re always accidentally skipping them.

you fell for sunoo, and fell hard.

you didn’t know how to put it in the right words and tell him that you actually fell for him, so he decided to do the first step.

“it was supposed to be fake, but i can’t really fake it anymore y/n,” he sighed, “i like you, i really really do like you” he held your hands while you never felt more relieved, you grabbed his shirt and kissed him.

정원 ✶ (jungwon) | work colleagues (0.169k)

part time jobs are very popular amongst high school students. you want to became independent and have your own money! that’s why you found yourself working in a convenient store close to your house.

at first, you hated it. you were alone most of your shifts and it was starting to become pretty boring. that was then until your boss introduced you to a new worker, his name is yang jungwon.

as soon as you saw him you knew your boring days are over. you immediately befriended him and explained to him everything he needs to know about the work, he listened carefully and took notes.

he’s definitely a cute one.

as time passed, you and jungwon became closer, taking a liking to each other and working in shifts together to be with each other.

“hey” jungwon waved his hand in front of your zoomed out face, “let’s go on a date after this shift ends” he added. you looked at him and nodded, “yeah, yeah let’s do that”

니키 ✶ (niki) | love triangle (0.185k)

niki did his best at expressing his feelings towards you by actions, you were just too dumb to notice how much he likes you.

you and niki have been friends for a while, and as time passed, your feelings for each other grew mutual—you both were clearly in love.

but then you started to hang out with someone else, niki felt like he was falling behind and drifting apart from you when he watched the both of you enjoying each other’s company without him.

the other person fell in love with you too, and now you were stuck between two.

niki was scared to lose you, and you too was scared to lose him. you were so scared to confess your feelings to niki-so it came out naturally and accidentally of course.

“i like you” the other person suddenly confessed, “i’m sorry,” you whispered, “i can’t return the feeling—i like someone else” you looked down, “who is-“ “niki, i like niki” you cut the person. little did you know niki was eavesdropping you two, and was a blushing mess when he heard the sudden confession.

419 notes · View notes

withleeknow · 4 months

Text

like you used to.

pairing: chan x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, angst word count: 0.6k note: "things i wish you'd said" for the fellow wifeu hehhehhehe. first bang chan piece, people !!

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

you remember when things were good.

now, you can only hope for a fraction of how they used to be. you don't even dare to ask for good again. you just want things to be better.

the way that everything is now - you don't know if it's right to label it bad. it's just... stagnant. lethargic. lifeless and on the verge of becoming unrevivable.

chan used to put you first, or at least, he would always make you feel like you were the center of his universe. when you'd first gotten together, the honeymoon phase seemed to last forever. you revolved around each other the way that everything in the solar system revolves around the sun. constant. a fact of life.

which is to say that the love was always endless. unwavering. persevering and true.

you could always feel the efforts he put in to prioritize your relationship. starting every morning with an i love you and ending the day the same way. staying on the phone for entire evenings whenever he had to be away. showering you with flowers and adorable small gifts any chance he got because he knew you didn't like extravagant things. running through the streets in the rain, giggling like a couple of fools utterly in love. spending hours talking and stargazing until the night faded away and you couldn't even see the stars anymore.

you were perfect together, perfect for each other.

what happened? what went wrong?

when did he start slipping away?

the i love you's don't sound the same anymore. when he gets into bed at night and presses a half-hearted kiss to your forehead, those three words feel like an obligation that he says just for the sake of upholding it.

no "just five, ten, fifteen more minutes!" when he wakes up in the morning and wraps his arms around you tightly for some extra cuddling time, peppering you with kisses on any exposed skin that he could find. instead, chan opts to desert the warmth of your side moments after his alarm rings. no lingering touches on your body before he leaves. just his fingertips ghosting on your back as if to quietly say "good morning, i'm going now".

it's a feeling that you can't quite describe even if someone asks you to - seeing the person you love the most fade away day by day, in front of your very eyes.

he's the last person you would expect this from.

the hardest thing to accept is that nothing happened. nothing went wrong. there's no one at fault, nothing to pin the blame on. love just went cold, and it's one of the saddest things that you and him will ever go through.

because your fire is still burning, not flickering even once while his love has been reduced to embers and you're helpless; you can't do anything to stop it from going out completely and turning frigid. because he's still the love of your life, even if you aren't the love of his anymore.

there are so many things that you wish you could tell him, so many things that you wish he would say to you.

tell me you want me and mean it.

kiss me like you did the first time under that shitty street light near the corner of my old apartment. it was dark and freezing, but we were so happy then, weren't we?

you don't have to love me forever like you once promised you would. just... love me. love me again.

because when he comes home and greets you with a smile - an empty one - that doesn't make his eyes light up like they used to, you know that the clock is ticking faster; time is cruel and time is running out.

you wish he would.

but you know he won't.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #bang chan angst #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan x you #stray kids #bang chan

200 notes · View notes

0liver-hope · 1 year

Text

if you love books, save a library!

I hear people on Tumblr talk a lot about the importance of libraries; now’s your chance to help save one!

At Vermont State University is a newly merging Uni in so-called North America, pushing together three previously separate universities: Castleton University, Northern Vermont University, and Vermont Technical College.

Just last week, the new VTSU administration sent out an email to faculty, staff and students announcing that all the libraries at each of the 5 campuses contained within these universities would be moving to an ‘all-digital’ model. Librarians will lose their jobs if this plan goes ahead; in fact, librarians were only informed of this change 11 minutes before the email was sent out.

We have come to understand that this means that all physical material will be removed from the library. They seem to want to do other things with the space, such as set up ‘a coffee or smoothie bar’ and determine ‘what students want’ to do with the space. This plan would go into effect on July 1st, 2023.

The fact is, students want to keep the library as it is. Quiet, and full of stacks and stacks of physical books. The administration cannot claim they are listening to students when we have demonstrated, via hundreds of emails and impassioned testimonies in front of the administration at a forum last week, that we hate this plan and oppose it vehemently. And the faculty and staff are with us, and they too have been speaking out. Not only that, the communities that surround these colleges greatly value having access to a research library, particularly in rural Vermont, and are opposing the plan as well, because, as far as I know, they will completely lose access to these resources if everything goes digital.

The image of the books above are what I just checked out today. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed browsing the stacks, in one case (not pictured above) finding a tiny book of Milton’s poetry inscribed with a reader’s name and the year 1865. So many important and precious books like that one are to be found in our library. Each book I checked out hasn’t been checked out for at least 10 years, and that’s one of the administration’s excuses for taking all our books away: that circulation is down, and that, somehow, it costs money to let books sit on a shelf. As many people have rebutted, though, just because books aren’t being checked out doesn’t mean they aren’t being read within the library and, most importantly, it doesn’t mean that they don’t have value.

Below I will post some links to various local news article on this subject as well as one radio broadcast that will probably be able to articulate this situation better than I can.

I’m just so angry and upset about this. I’ve seen students and faculty alike crying about this situation, and an old lady braver than me telling the administration that maybe they should consider lowering their own salaries before taking away our books. I think everyone here feels powerless, because the administration isn’t backing down, despite all our protests, because ultimately their goal is profit and to make sure that this new ‘equitable’ University makes as much money as possible.

At the Castleton forum, the president of the University said he was ‘deeply humiliated’, by the outrage, by the heckling, the ‘throwing of verbal tomatoes’ as I have taken to calling it, by having his and his fellow’s bullshit exposed and questioned.

Please, please, if you care about books, about libraries, about the problems with big tech and the way it continues to invade all our lives, replacing physical experiences with their more hollow, less engaging counterparts; if you care about the interests of the people triumphing over the interests of capital, about students, about education, then please -- help save our books by spreading the word however and wherever you can, by flooding the inboxes of the capitalists below; tell them how you feel about this decision and its larger implications for books and libraries in general! Not so much to convince them that they’re wrong (they already know that and don’t care), but to make going forward with this plan more of a nuisance and a PR nightmare than cancelling it would be.

I don’t know if anyone will read or see this post, but please if you do and you care, reblog, educate yourself on what’s going on, and take action if you can.

A few disclaimers:

Any specifics I mention pertain primarily to what I, as a student at Castleton University, have either heard via word of mouth or seen with my own eyes. I am not officially speaking on behalf of anyone but myself.

The only exception to all the physical materials being removed from the libraries seem to be the books deemed ‘most used’ and some valuable historical collections. This was not clear from the beginning and not yet fully clear in any further specificity.

please try not to use violent rhetoric - as much as I’m not into policing people’s speech and anger, I don’t want this to backfire and I don’t want them to crackdown harder on us or make a big stink about it if they receive those kinds of messages

Email addresses of administration officials responsible for this decision:

VTSU President Grewal: [email protected]

VTSU Provost Atkins: [email protected]

VSC Chancellor Zdatny [email protected]

VSC Board of Trustees Chair: Eileen “Lynn” Dickinson [email protected]

News articles + broadcast:

https://www.vermontpublic.org/show/vermont-edition/2023-02-10/vermont-state-university-president-on-move-to-all-digital-libraries-changes-in-athletic-programs

https://www.rutlandherald.com/news/local/castleton-community-protests-vtsu-library-cuts/article_100d9539-c6ca-569e-a9b9-ecd6b3cef0ad.html

https://vtdigger.org/2023/02/08/vermont-state-university-to-close-libraries-downgrade-sports-programs/

http://www.castletonspartan.com/2023/02/12/vtsu-library-plan-sparks-outrage-and-emotion/

#signal boost #save libraries #books #total liberation #my post #anarchism #public services #capitalism #fight back #boost #please help #mutual aid #libraries #libraries are the best #support local libraries #academic libraries #school libraries #librarians #workers rights

1K notes · View notes

dovithedarklord · 3 months

Text

Stucked - Part 2

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains violence, blood and smut, and some dubcon. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

I watch too many horror movies, so I thought I write a part two for this small story.

I have some more ideas for this, so I might write a few other parts for this.

Have fun! :D

Part 1

........................................................

You raise the glass to your mouth with slow movements, and as you take a sip of the whiskey resting in it, you can barely register how the liquid is burning down your throat. Because it's much more interesting to study the man in front of you, laughing with peaceful glee, who, although exudes the role of the innocent host with every pore, he cannot deceive you anymore.

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that you weren't imagining it when Johnny deviated from the script a few hours ago and whispered something in your ear that he shouldn't have done according to your experiences so far. Although the events of the previous night could have served as a warning sign, you’re now sure that something has changed. Somehow, the thread of the story slowly drifted away from the usual path and began to flow in a direction where you have no idea what will welcome you at the end. But one thing is clear. That you won't let this satanic place screw with you. You will fight and outsmart it, even if you have to try a thousand times over.

"Oh, this house is so beautiful, Johnny! I envy you so much that you managed to buy it!" Pam blabbers excitedly, and the warmth of the alcohol permeates her voice, which makes all her enthusiasm fall out much more loudly from her red lips. If she knew that this man was looking for an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of kilometers from civilization, so that he could indulge in his bloody hobby in peace, she wouldn't be nearly so cheerful.

"The credit is not mine, one of my friends found it." Johnny notes modestly, and a wide smile appears on his mouth, which you know is his only sincere moment during the entire evening. Whoever this friend was, whom he had referred to so many times during dinners, he hadn't paid his respects so far. And you know that in a game like this, every word the characters utter has weight, each one could be a vague hint to another clue. But you haven't been able to figure out the identity of this unknown friend just yet, and it occurs to you that maybe this little detail is what’s missing to make the picture complete. But you don't have time for that now. You have more important things to do.

The key hidden in your pocket almost burns the skin of your thigh, and every single nerve of yours tenses in anticipation, waiting for the story to reach the point where you can finally jump into action and move forward to discover what this little trinket opens. Because you're convinced that if Johnny hadn't distracted you earlier, you wouldn't have died, and would found something vastly valuable. And now you're not going to let anything hold you back before you expose what's behind the door.

Rebecca's phone rings, and she excuses herself with her usual panicked stuttering, only to rush out the door into the embrace of the dark night. And this means good news, because it seems that despite the oddities, everything continues as it should. And for the first time, you're glad that this nerve-wracking, repetitive drama is happening once again, because it gives you a chance to regain control. At least you hope so.

And you fix your eyes on the man silently, who is deep into a lively conversation with Pam, because the alcohol is almost gone from the bottle, and it's time for him to leave. And you follow his every move with unmoving attention, in case you find something that might indicate that he will deviate from the script again. Of course, you know that when he takes on his less likable persona and tries to kill you with one of his many creative methods, he becomes frighteningly unpredictable. But until you get there, he's like a tame lamb. As far as appearances go.

"What's the time?" Pam suddenly asks, and you snap out of your sinister thoughts to look at her in bewilderement, because this dialogue should happen much later. Normally she decides she had enough of the night's fun only when Johnny has long since retired to his room. "Jesus, it's that late? I better go get some sleep if I don't want to look like a corpse tomorrow morning!" She yawns, after checking the time on her phone's screen, and you've seen every single movement with which she stands up and stretches out her tired muscles a dozen times, but still, as she throws you a last "good night" and sets off towards the path leading upstairs, your chest fills with icy shock.

Because this way something that has never happened before takes place, and after the disappearance of your two companions, you’re left alone with the man, who waves goodbye to the girl, only to turn all his stressful attention to you a second later. And you just stare at the long-empty stairs, frozen in surprise, as if the steps could answer what the hell is going on here.

"What's wrong, Bunny?" He inquires, and you carefully shift your gaze to him, as the dread slowly crawls under your skin to envelope your conciseness. Although the game initially lulled you into a false sense of calm with how slyly it followed the main storyline again, but now everything continues to change yet again. And due to the rampage of the doubts that arise in your head, you're unable to put the broken pieces of your sanity together and figure out what should you do now that you’re stuck with the enemy who you know is just waiting to gut you like the prey you are.

"I…" You stammer nervously, and your tongue rolls in your mouth with such clumsiness, as if the leaden heaviness creeping into you from terror would paralyze it as well. And it's probably the case, because for a few torturous seconds, you only gape at him with the elegance of fish, before your body is able to recollect itself enough to form coherent sentences. "I just thought she would stay a little bit longer." You hesitate, forcing lightness into your tone, and your mind tries to gather the facade of calmness with desperate speed, because when you see that characteristic, almost pitying shadow pass over the man's face, you know you have fallen into a trap.

"The driver needs the rest too." Johnny remarks simply, and although there is still a remnant of the friendly smile at the corner of his mouth, the cold glint moving into his eyes kills all warmth from his expression. And you know that look all too well to realize you have to flee as soon as possible, because it's usually the last thing you see before he takes your life with his own hands.

Your body moves almost instinctively, and you spring up from the festive table so suddenly, that your chair cries out with a loud creak as it slides backward on the floor from your momentum. You grab the plates stacked on the middle of the table with shaking hands, and you concentrate with every fiber of your being so that your behavior does not encourage the man sitting on the other side to do anything rash. But he just cocks his head to the side lazily and watches you with interest, and even though your eyes are strictly trained on the crumpled napkins, which you hastily pile on top of the cutlery, you can feel his penetrating gaze burning the sensitive skin of your face.

"I’ll clear the table." You declare, and you don't give him time to object, because you’re already heading towards the kitchen to get away from him as fast as possible, since every cell of yours can feel that the storm is approaching, which will strike if you stay next to him. "I'll wash these up! You can go to bed!" You throw it back over your shoulder, and you're unable to expel the desperate quaver that settles in your voice, because you know that you fled from him like a chased animal, and you only dare to hope that he doesn't attach more importance to it. Because even though he seems like a very real person, he's just a fictional character and doesn't have enough self-awareness to properly evaluate your behavior. Or that's what you try to calm yourself down with.

And as you step into the embrace of the empty kitchen, with a soft sigh, you blow out the air that has been trapped in your chest, straining painfully against your ribs until now. You stumble to the counter, and it's almost a strange miracle that nothing falls out of your hands, even though you're gripping the goddamn cheap china with such force that your palms start to ache. You quietly slip the plates into the sink and anxiously peer back behind your shoulders as they land clattering on the metal. Because every little misstep can alarm the enemy, and now you need a minute of precious solitude to work out what the hell is going on.

But nothing else comes from the living room except the warm light of the crackling fire in the fireplace and the motionless silence. A few more nerve-racking moments pass, until your paranoid mind finally calms down and you believe that you don't have to be afraid of Johnny coming after you just yet. And when you’re finally able to tear your frightened eyes away from the door, you turn back to the sink, trying to muffle your panicked panting. You feel the nervous breakdown slowly creeping up on you, and wild dizziness moves into your head, as you realize that last night set in motion a series of events that will slowly tear apart the fragile certainty in which you have navigated yourself somewhat confidently until now. Because even though this place is cursed, it has consistently followed its rules so far, and you have been able to progress in it despite the many pain-filled miseries you had to suffer through. But now something went very wrong, and none of the thoughts running through your head can find an answer to what could have been the little mistake that started this avalanche.

Resting your palm on the cold stone of the counter, you try to pull your mind back from the edge of hysteria, and your fingers grip the cool marble with desperate strength, as hovering on the verge of crying, you try to fight the calmness back into your body with a few pitiful breaths. Because even though every single nerve cell of yours screams and strains against consciousness, you cannot allow yourself to panic now. This is exactly what the game wants. For you to get confused, make a mistake, and die, over and over again, until one day you dive so deep into this nightmare that you won't want to leave because you won't even remember what's waiting outside. It may be trying new ways to crush you, but you must not let it win. That would mean your fall and possible eternal torment.

You need time.

You open the faucet quickly, and as the lukewarm water caresses your fingers, you feel that confidence slowly returning to your battered brain. If you pretend to clean up after the party like a helpful guest, you hopefully drag out this ridiculous task just long enough for Johnny to get tired of waiting and leave. You need him to disappear, because as long as he's out there lurking, you have no chance to investigate further. And you must not forget that your number one priority is to find clues. And no mean tactics can dissuade you from this. Not even when despair seeps into your bones like a contagious disease.

As you slowly get to work, you mechanically start listing the steps you need to take in your head. You have to go back upstairs and get into the room that the lock hides from you. You have to be on the lookout because you're not sure if it was Johnny and Pam's steamy moment or your own attempt to open the lock that invited the masked killer. Maybe the death flag was activated because you weren't fast enough. Every time you take too long to get to the next safe spot, you die because your clumsiness gives one of your attackers enough time to find you. As if the game would punish your failure with this. But even if you're quick, you can't be completely sure that he won't show up again, so you have to be prepared to defend yourself. If you don't manage to open the lock in two tries, you have to hide and see what happens, so that…

Out of nowhere, the distinctive, woody scent hits your nose, breaking you out of your planning in an instant, but you’re unable to react in time, because when you feel the burning heat of the body snuggling up to you, your hand holding the sponge freezes with the distress of a trapped animal. You forget to breathe from the stunned shock creeping into you, as you see huge hands spread out on the counter from the corner of your eye, blocking your way of escape, as if he knew that your first instinctive thought would be to run. But even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to act fast enough, because the moment the man's hard muscles press against your back, you know you have no chance of fleeing, and this painful realization short-circuits your brain.

"My hardworkin" wee Bunny... Ye left so soon." Johnny murmurs, and you feel his deep voice resonating through his chest, because suddenly all your nerves can only focus on the tense proximity with which he presses himself up to you. "Ye didnae just want to run away from me, did ye?"

Anyone would think that it's just kind, friendly interest, but your ears can sense the dangerous edge behind his words, with which he tries to force out the reason you left him alone in the living room so unexpectedly. The soft gurgling of the water echoes in your head like a deafening noise and drums on the metal like an ominous melody, deepening the raw fear moving inside you. What is he doing here anyway? Why didn't he go to sleep already?

"No... I just... " You stutter softly, and even to yourself the whimper that comes out of your mouth seems pathetically weak, but you’re unable to pull yourself together because the panic is awakening with too much force. "I didn't want you to be left with the cleaning after you've already thrown the dinner together." You finally bring yourself to speak, and you hastily swallow the terror rising in your throat, which leads the bitter taste of stomach acid in your mouth.

And you don't like the low, malicious chuckle that sounds next to your ear, because every single hair on your back stands up as you feel the air fanning over your neck in small waves from his amusement. You don’t dare to move, because the danger is too close, and you're afraid that every reckless act will lead to your death in the next moment. And even though you know that you'll get back into the car and start all over again, you can't get rid of the doubt in the back of your head that tells you, from now on you can't be sure about that either…

"It's okay, this will do too." He hums casually, as if giving himself permission to engage in what was born in his twisted mind. And you frown in confusion, because you’re unable to understand what is that he wants to achieve with this. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already, and although he's no stranger to playing with you before the main event, he has never resorted to such tricks before. This is different now, this is some threatening new twist that you’re not prepared for.

"What do you mean?" The instinctive question bursts out of you, because the uneasiness arising in your mind creeps onto your tongue much sooner than you could suppress your curiosity. And for a moment it seems as if he might hesitate, because for a few agonizing seconds, nothing happens. But before you can feel the relief that maybe he’ill stop playing this horrible game, you feel the light touch of his nose caressing the sensitive skin behind your ear, and it makes your heart jump in fear.

"I love yer scent." He breathes, and the moan that escapes from his mouth sounds almost longing, when he buries his face in your neck and takes a deep inhale of your hair. And you can only hope that you imagine the shiver that runs through his body. "So sweet. Full of fear." He grumbles, and goosebumps rise reflexively on your back, as you feel the burning touch of his lips on your skin, which makes you light-headed for a moment, and the world starts spinning with you from confused panic.

"Johnny, what the…" You gasp and try to make eye contact through the glass of the window in front of you, but you regret it soon enough. Because when the gaze of his reflection flashes on you, you see nothing but darkness in them, as if the deepest recesses of hell have moved in those beautiful, vivid eyes. In the yellowish light filtering in from behind, he looks like an inhumane shadow as his strong figure towers over you, and you feel pitifully small in the embrace of his body swelling with strength. He would be able to break all your bones with one light movement, like a twig dried in the summer sun. You know, because he already did. Not just once.

And this is enough for the first wild desire to escape to wake up in your body, and when you try to break away from his suffocating proximity with a frightened step, he only presses himself even closer to you, and you involuntarily hiss as the sharp edge of the kitchen counter bites into your stomach. And the horrified realization strikes you, that the hardness that slowly pushes against your lower back is not the product of your imagination.

"Shh, calm down." He coos, with an almost condescending edge in his voice, as if he would want to soothe a terrified child, but you can see the twist of a cruel smile at the corner of his mouth, which makes him look more like a predator that has found its prey. "We're just playin' a little. Ye need to relax too." He states, and you don't like the way a wolfish grin creeps onto his face, enjoying the way your eyes slowly open wide with terror.

Before would be able to register it, one of his hands begins its lazy exploration, and as his long fingers travel along the bare skin of your arm, you shiver from the feigned tenderness with which he touches you. Like a gentle lover trying to ingrain the fine lines of your body onto his memory, but you know him better than that. You know what kind of bloodlust lurks behind that handsome face, you know what kind of beast nests in his chest, which can burst out at any moment and tear your throat open to paint his teeth crimson with your flesh.

"Stop it..." You finally find your voice, and although the wavers from the fear that crawls into your stomach, it rings just loud enough to draw his attention to the fact that you might have started to defy him. But even this little courage fades away when you feel his large palm slide onto your stomach, and as his fingers teasingly caress the top of your pants, the plate you've been clutching falls out of your hand with a reflexive movement, so you can grab his thick wrist in alarm before he could move forward with whatever he wanted to do. The porcelain breaks into a thousand pieces with a deafening clatter, splitting the deceptive silence of the night in two. And for a moment, time freezes, the rustle of the wind blowing outside falls silent, and the shining of golden light reflected in the window fades. As though the continuity of the game would break for a minute. As if you've disrupted something important with your rejection.

"Stop what?" He tilts his head to the side, and although you see a completely innocent expression appear in the dim reflection for a moment, you can make out the disgusting vileness that shines in his eyes. "I'm not doin' anythin' you wouldn't need, bonnie." He says, as if he honestly wouldn't understand what he did wrong by appearing in this godforsaken kitchen.

You're about to open your mouth to protest further, but his free hand finds your neck with such suddenness that all the fleeting sounds of your defiance boil onto your throat at the warning squeeze of his fingers. And even though he doesn't cause pain, it's just enough of a threat to drive the spark of resistance out of your limbs by forcing them into automatic obedience. Because a whole new kind of worry takes over you when he closes every millimeter of the already miniscule distance between the two of you, as though he would try to merge into one with your paralyzed body, and because of the helpless shock, you allow him to continue with this sick game as he pleases.

His hand, which wanders over your stomach, crawls under your jeans with nerve-wracking sluggishness, and you cringe at the roughness of his palm, which only elicits a lustful growl from him. He smooths his mouth on your neck with a wet kiss, and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding in the window, as if you were just watching a movie, and you wouldn't even experience first-hand how his tongue slowly traces the faint line of the vein running under your skin, in which your desperately racing pulse continues to pump fear into your body. But as you feel his hand suddenly move lower, and his fingers skim along your clit hidden in your underwear, then you tense up with an instinctive shock and try to pull away from him a second later.

He must really enjoy your thrashing, because he thrusts his hips forward with a grunt full of pleasure, and as his cock presses against you, the throaty moans escaping from his mouth burn your skin along with his hot breath. And as his fingers start to write small circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, and he begins to grind himself against you through your clothes with feverish movements, like a fucking, horny dog, then the anger flares up inside you along with the heat that awakens between your thighs. Because this dirty, perverted scumbag isn't going to distract you from getting out of here with this damn stunt. No matter how troubling it is when the first suffocating wave of lust rushes through your treacherous body.

"Stop, you motherfucker!" An angry cry breaks out of you, and your hand finds a piece of the broken plate in the sink, and you grab it with such speed to stab it into the man's arm emerging from your pants like a venomous snake. He lets go with a painful roar, and this gives you just enough opportunity to break free from his arms and back away from him with hasty steps, fixing your eyes sparkling with poison on him.

However, his surprise doesn't last long, because he pulls out the piece of porcelain pierced in his hand amid colorful curses, only to throw it on the floor, shaking off the angry red drops of blood slowly emerging from the tiny cut. The whole ordeal doesn't seem to be more than a passing inconvenience to him, because the next moment he has that godawful smirk on his face again, which makes your stomach shrink to the size of a tennis ball. But you don't give up, you look for the knife, which is lying on the counter in the exact same way as usual, and grabbing it, you raise it in front of you angrily. This is the first time that you try to fight instead of running away, and the adrenaline rushes through your body with a force that you have never experienced before in your life.

"Look at ye, how brave ye have become!" He exclaims amusedly, and as he takes a few slow, menacing steps towards you, like a big cat ready to attack, you hastily move to the other side of the table in the middle of the kitchen, hoping that this is enough of a barrier between the two of you. "You've let me play with ye so willingly so far... But it's okay. I like how fiery ye are!" He continues his rambling, and you can feel the patronizing edge in his voice, as if it would amuse him and fill him with pity at the same time that you think you finally have a chance to hurt him. And your brain is too busy with your escape, slowly dragging you out of the kitchen, to understand what an impossible statement is hidden in his words. Because then you would have to face the fact that he's not as unaware as you thought.

"Shut up." You snap at him with clenched teeth, and you focus on him with every nerve because you're afraid that if you lose sight of him even for a minute, he'll throw himself at you and you'll lose all your chances of survival. Even though the logical side of you knows that it would be easier to let him kill you and start this horror again. But the pulsation of fury is too strong in you to yield to the deceptive lure of the simpler path.

"I wanted to taste yer pussy. But I think I'll have to settle for yer blood for now." He taunts cruelly, and now you know that this whole wicked game was just another tool to torture you. Because he always wants the same thing, no matter what cunning methods he uses. He wants to enjoy the sight of your lifeless body. "Maybe next time." He promises, and he charges towards you so suddenly that you just blindly swing your hand clutching the knife at him, and even you yourself are surprised when you succeed in slicing the strong line of his chin in the heat of the moment.

He hisses as fresh blood gushes out in the wake of your attack, and you gain just enough advantage to start running like a frightened doe, bolting desperately from the kitchen's threshold. You run across the living room, out of breath, and from the stress hormones raging in your body, you almost tear the front door open to stumble into the cool night. In your panic-stricken brain, it occurs to you that this will be a bad idea, but you have no other option, you have to trust that the darkness of the forest will hide you from the madman, whose pounding footsteps can be heard behind you, as you rush forward in the thicket and get swallowed up by the tangled cavalcade of trees.

Your pulse thumping on your eardrums joins in as the background noise for your sprint, and your lungs start to burn slowly, as the cold air gnaws at your trachea in the middle of your rush. The leaves crunch under your sneakers, and you don't even realize how the branches dig into your face and tear at your hair, because you have only one goal in front of your eyes: To get as far away from Johnny as possible.

But your escape attempt is short lived, because two hands reach out from behind one of the trees so swiftly that you don't have time to dodge it. They loop around your waist with a vise-like grip, and your mouth opens to a frightened scream, but when you try to free yourself from the shackles of your attacker, you almost feel your ribs crack, as the strong arms wrap around you tighter, pressing you to a massive body with deadly determination.

You glance back in terror, and when you see the skull-like mask, it's too late. One of his hands lets go of you, and even if you had a momentary chance to get away, it immediately disappears when the hunting knife sinks into your stomach. You let out a startled whimper as the agonizing pressure builds when he slowly twists the blade inside you, and you feel the warm, red liquid bubbling out of the torn flesh.

You fall to the ground like a rag doll as your attacker releases you from his grip, and you sprawle out in the mud coughing up blood as the pain shoots through your every nerve. And through the blur of the ever-increasing blood loss, you only dimly perceive how a familiar figure appears next to the masked man, but even hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, you recognize Johnny's cheerful laugh, with which he pats the other killer on the shoulder.

"I almost got her!" Johnny laments, and with your weak and foggy brain, you can't comprehend the inscrutable emotion in his voice. "Never mind. Next time, it'll be different!"

And when the darkness envelopes you in its weightless embrace, you have the last fleeting thought that this game is taking more and more fatal turns.

~ ° ~

Gasping in alarm, your eyes open in the back seat of the car, and you smooth away the cold sweat from your forehead with shaking hands, as you realize that you're back at the beginning of the game once again. Surrounded by the chatter of your two companions, you try to overcome your disorientation, because dizziness invades your head in a way you've never experienced before, as if you've brought a little of the horror of your previous death with you when you restarted this misery.

And when the dull pain in your stomach hits you, you pull up the thin material of your T-shirt in fear, and your brain goes blank for a fleeting moment when you see what is waiting for you there. A palm-sized black spot spreads across the soft blanket of healthy skin, and you're pretty sure it's not just your imagination playing tricks on you when you recognize a skull slowly taking shape in it. Like a carving of a cruel reminder, so you don’t forget who ended your life this time.

It doesn't make any sense... you've died twenty-four times, yet this is the first time something strange appears on you, as though the game would try to convey something. As if your killer had marked you with his signature... But why?

But you don't have time to ponder on this any longer, because the car stops, and you pull your shirt down in panic to cover the new sign, before it catches the eyes of the two girls and they start asking questions. You could explain yourself, but at this point, you're not entirely sure if it wouldn't start something with another set of fatal consequences.

The girls hop out of the car in the middle of their excited conversation, but you stay put, trying to overcome hyperventilation and regain some semblance of your composure. You need to be more careful, you made no progress yesterday, and if this continues, you will never get out of here. And you can't allow that. Never.

However, when the door opens and Johnny's cheerful figure appears on the doorstep, you know that nothing is going to be all right. Because behind him, a tall figure, whom you have never seen before, slowly emerges from the house. The light of the autumn sun shines golden on his dark blond hair, and although his face is half covered by a black medical mask, you still recognize the threat in the unfamiliar man. Because as those dark eyes settle on you, as you hesitantly step out of the car, every single fiber in your body screams at the same time: RUN!

But you know you can't run away. You're forced to go further in this hellscape because that is the only way to get out. And whoever this new stranger is, he won't stop you. No matter what happens.

122 notes · View notes

milf-harrington · 9 months

Text

the overwhelming feeling of being watched in the dark

steddie | 2.3K | read on ao3

---

There was something under Steve Harrington’s bed.

It hadn’t always been there– once upon a time, there’d been nothing but empty space between the bed-frame and the dark blue carpet lining his bedroom floor. Once upon a time, he’d sleep sprawled across his bed like it was bigger than it was, arms and legs dangling over the sides carelessly, no thoughts spared towards monsters that could be watching through the gap in the closet door.

No thoughts spared towards monsters at all.

Until three years ago, when he found out one had apparently been running around in the woods behind his house. Of course, he found out about that little tidbit of information after he’d fought the thing off with a baseball bat that Jonathan Byers had stuck nails in.

Curiously, in November of 1983, Steve developed a troublesome fear of lights.

After the shitshow at the Byers house, he couldn’t stand the quiet buzzing of the bulbs or the way adrenaline gripped his throat every time too many appliances made the lights pulse. Lights flipped on, or off , without warning threw him into fight or flight mode, one hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.

So instead he kept the lights off as often as he could, relearning the shape of his house in the dark, right up until Halloween of 1984.

1984 brought junkyards, traversing an underground maze while concussed, and the chittering screech of dogs-that-weren’t-dogs. His hallway at night became a winding tunnel with the potential to fill with writhing, faceless, bodies whose heads peeled open like some sort of fucked up banana, and suddenly lights didn’t seem so bad.

And then, like the universe just couldn’t help itself, 1985 left him with blood in his eyes and drugs in his blood and the chilling understanding that some very bad people had some very sensitive information about him and his friends.

By his 4th brush with death-by-alternate-dimension, his new fear of the dark had become a downright hassle. Embarrassing and impossible to logic his way out of.

Steve was frozen in the doorway of his bedroom, watching Eddie take his rings off. He did this thing where he'd poke his top lip with the tip of his tongue, concentrating hard on twisting each bit of jewellery off before reaching forward to drop it onto Steve's fancy writing desk. They clattered against the wood, ringing sharply when they skimmed each other, and Steve was trying very hard to focus on all of that and not the sight of Eddie’s ankles exposed to the underside of his bed.

A grown man could fit under there and Steve knew that because sometimes he hid under his bed when the world was too much.

Eddie looked over his shoulders, eyebrow cocked somewhat playfully. He was always some level of playful, like he didn't know how to exist in the world without turning it into a game. “You planning on standing there all night?”

Steve’s eyes dropped from his face to the space between the carpet and the bed-frame. A man could fit under there. Someone who knew his name and had his keys because his pockets had been emptied when he and Robin had been captured.

He swallowed, trying to ignore it, and looked back to find that Eddie’s expression had softened into something else. Something concerned. “Stevie?”

There’s someone under the bed , he wanted to say. Even if the logic wasn’t foolproof, the connection had already been made in his head and there was no thinking his way out of it. Someone could fit under there, so someone had fit under there and now if Steve turned off the light they were both going to die.

He glanced at the light switch, sitting innocently by his shoulder, and a cold panic coiled tight in his stomach.

“You can keep the light on.” Eddie offered, gently, fiddling with his hair. “I’m not going to judge you man, I’ve needed the bathroom light on since I was a kid. And after the shit you’ve seen?” He blew air through his lips, cutting a hand through the air.

And Steve knew that, had been there on some of those nights. The ones where Eddie kept his bedroom door open because sometimes the kid that still existed in his brain got scared of things that hadn’t happened in over a decade.

But it didn’t work the same for Steve. After so many years of not being afraid, of having no reason to be, he still found it almost impossible to sleep without total darkness. Like the damaged part of his brain was ringing alarm bells, but the older bits still recognised the safety in the shadows.

“It’s not that.” Steve admitted, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling childish. There’s someone under the bed, he wanted to say. Could feel the words squeezing his throat like tails and vines and the hands trying to hurt. If I turn the lights off I don’t know what will happen.

God, his bat was under there– the one with the nails driven through it, crooked and rusted with old blood. Whoever was under there probably already had their hands wrapped around it, waiting for the cover of dark to use it.

There were lots of things under Steve’s bed. They weren’t always there at the same time, but the possibility of them was burned into the wooden slats holding his mattress up.

The Soviets had known his full name.

There was a lot you could find out just by knowing something like that, especially with a name like Harrington in a town like Hawkins. And yeah, Starcourt had burned down, half the base blown up, but there had been survivors because some of them had dragged Hopper off to Russia.

Which means there were still people out there who might know his name.

Most of Steve’s nightmares were set in that base.

Eddie was looking more worried the longer Steve went without saying anything, just standing next to the light switch and not doing anything. He bit the inside of his cheek, cracking the knuckles on one hand to assure his friend that he wasn’t being Vecna’d or anything.

He should check.

He’d probably look like a fucking weirdo but there was something under the fucking bed and there would be until he could make sure there wasn’t. It was a reckless sort of certainty that burned through his stomach, tight and cold around his throat.

---

read the rest on ao3 'cause i didn't wanna post the full thing on here

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington has ptsd #steve harrington has anxiety #eddie loves him #they hold hands about it #my writing

267 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

Text

malice of a pretty face | scaramouche (wanderer)

✮ tags ; adapted from genshin canon but not genshin canon, gn!reader, forced marriage but they ally together, role reversal, scaramouche is called bride mostly jokingly, physically smaller than reader, reader has a female concubine in their bed and kisses them / had sex w them, reader is a tyrant ruler type, age gap (scara is 20 ish and reader is like 28), opium usage, raiden shogun is scara's mother who sold him out, political affairs, handjobs + making out 18+

✮ wc ; 3.4k

✮ a/n ; what if i want to be the tyrant emperor for a change huh. what then. also scaramouche is called bride but gender and stuff is whatever in this universe.

some background, this is not genshin techincally. its like adapted to be a royalty au. reader is a recent ruler of their homeland. scaramouche is a raidens son. he didn't get a lot of choice in coming but he has no political power in his homeland

(this is a rewrite of a concept i posted a while ago but i cant find the ask where someone tells me to expand so hope this finds u anon

✮ synopsis ; your "bride" hails from inazuma and comes to you dressed in white, with eyes full of lightning.

A knock on your door snaps you out of your pointless thinking. Your close companion and Royal Advisor clears his throat before addressing you.

“Your bride has been prepared for you,”

“Come in.”

The brown door creaks as it opens, the gold embellishments on either side catching light. The hallway behind is empy but bright. Your advisor stands behind your esteemed guest with a look of mild exasperation. Subtle as it may be, it makes the corner of your lip quirk in amusement. At the door is your betrothed.

Your bride comes to you wrapped in white.

“I’ll leave you too it,” Says your advisor, code for please get along that has you nodding your head. You hum quietly, waving him away. He sighs as he shuts the door, leaving your guest standing at the door awkwardly.

As the rumors have said so many times over, the Raiden Shoguns only heir is strikingly beautiful. Pale thing he is, white as a porcelain doll and nearly half your size. Even in the lowlights of your bedroom, the blurriness of candlelight, you can see the sharpness of his eyes. A signature purple, the color of royalty and trademark of the Inazuman dynasty and bloodline.

For a peace offering, he reeks of defiance. Just standing there with his arms crossed, fists clenched and jaw tight. He looks like he wants to burn the entire palace to the ground where he stands. You’re sure if you picked him apart enough he’d tell you just that. Intel tells you he’s easy to provoke, and for a Prince of his nation - he’s quite the fighter too.

You aren’t sure how much he knows of this by now. Or if he knows that you’ve learned all sorts of things about him.

Most of all, he’s intriguing. Beautiful but prickly and poisonous. You’re captivated by how much he seethes. You tilt your head as your leg up, your back against the wall. You glance briefly at the concubine asleep in your bed, back exposed. Your robe is half-fallen over your shoulder, the bandaging on your chest and shoulder visible.

You take a long inhale of the pipe resting on your bed, lungs filling with opium before you push it. Another cloud of smoke fills the room, relief in your back as you exhale. You tilt your head at him.

“Will you stand there the whole time?” You ask placidly. It angers him even more for a reason you’re unable to discern.

“Why would I get near a belligerent tyrant like you?”

You chuckle. Despite himself, there’s a tinge of anxiety to his protesting. He’s young and on guard. You’re sure your reputation with the Royal Harem has served you no favors, so he must think you’re going to pounce on him.

You shake your head.

“I like to sedate my prey before I eat it. I won’t lay a hand on you.”

Surprised by your deduction, a flush draws on his features. You smile wispily, before another thought crosses your mind. His name dawns on you, Scaramouche you think it was.

“Ah, or is it this that’s troubling you?” You say, gesture vaguely to the naked person in your bed laying comfortably “Should I send her away before we speak?”

Your conversation stirs her. Scaramouche stares on. Instead you glance at the woman before you as she wakes, turning to her side. Barren skin save for jewelry, she runs her hands through her hair as she yawns.

“Oh, Your Highness. Already another round? I hardly got any rest.” She pouts. Her behavior is amusing to you always.

“Not today. My spouse has come to visit, so I’m sending you back to your chambers.” You say smoothly. She pouts, sitting up. The sheets that covered her so thinly have fallen, revealing the rest of her. A set of gold anklets that match with gold necklaces and gold bracelet. She sits up on her knees and wraps her around your neck.

“How cruel,” She whines, rubbing herself against you “How could you abandon when you favor me so much, hm?”

“You’re quite clever aren’t you? Trying to seduce me in front of my lover, and all?”

She pulls back to giggle.

“So you’ve seen through me. I don’t care for being sent away, you know?”

“What would you like as reconciliation?” You say.

“A kiss goodbye,” She replies easily. This time you look to Scaramouche. His face is burning red.

“Is it alright with you?”

He scoffs “As if it matters what I think.”

“I’ve asked you haven’t I?”

“Do as you please.”

You laugh. He says as much but he can't help but stare. He looks embarrassed, albeit you can’t imagine which thing is troubling him so much. It’s entertaining.

You kiss her goodbye as she’s asked, though you know what type of kiss she’s asking for. A deep kiss, the kind where you have to hold her by the nape of her neck. Salacious in nature, where she squirms and holds the front of your robe. You pull away with a laugh, rubbing her lower lip.

“Send my regards to everyone. It might be some time before I visit again.”

“How heartbreaking. I’ll do as you wish, Your Highness.” She stands to her feet, pulling herself out of bed and putting on the clothes left on the floor with a sigh. Her feet pad against the marble floor as she walks away.

She stops to look at Scaramouche before leaving, bowing her head in respect before standing back. She whispers something to him (that turns his face into a blushing mess once more) before patting him on the shoulder gently.

“I’m off,” She says, waving a hand but not looking back. The door clicks back shut a second time, leaving the two of you alone in silence. You take another drag from your pipe.

“Come. Sit.”

He does as you ask this time, stomping with a characteristic frustration that you stop to laugh at internally. He sits on the corner of your mattress, legs crossed. You get to see him up close this time. What delicate features he has, he couldn’t be any older than 21. The white silks he’s dressed in are fine. A thin, lace collar goes up to his throat. A skirt with high slits about the legs and lacy socks to cover the legs. He’s wearing something over it too, draped over his shoulders. You can see the cut-out of his chest. You only glance. Any longer than this and you’re sure he’ll protest.

“What troubles you, my bride?”

He grits his teeth.

“I’m no bride.”

“I know,” You say, without any hesitation “You’re the only filial son of the Great Raiden Shogun. I may be a tyrant, but I am no fool.”

This information surprises him. He wears his emotions on his face, as expected. He’s not gotten so far without being clever. The bounty on his head is insurmountable. There’s a tension in the room, an unspoken heaviness in the air. Quite a fragile thing he is.

“Then this, this marriage - it’s fraudulent isn’t it?” He says, angry. You hum.

“I knew before we wedded. Under the law of Tevyat and in the eyes of the Nation, you are my betrothed.”

He’s catching up to all that you know. You know it all. The rumors of the cold and unyielding Raiden Shogun. The desolate lands of Inazuma, the loss of childhood and the change in the young man. Rumors of the angry Crown Prince and his bleeding heart. How he was sacrificed for power to your hands, for the eternal vision of Inazuma.

Of course you know.

“Then why…if you know about me, then why?”

“The Raiden Shogun offered you to me to get in my good graces. There’s political fairs involved but the simply reason is because I wanted to. You’re easy on the eyes.”

He ignores your flirtatious comment as you expect.

“What are the political affairs?”

“Inazuma wishes to strengthen it’s naval army and a small nation requires resources. Since I’ve only just gained power after killing the Emperor, my position for the throne is destabilized and marriage was the best option to stabilize it again,” You explain, already bored just hearing yourself.

“We don’t gain anything from joining hands with Inazuma as it stands. And plenty of people have vouched desperately for my marriage. The simple answer is because an offer like the only child of the Raiden Shogun, who’s beauty is world-renowned is quite the tempting offer.”

He looks down, away from you and you resist your own laughter.

“I despise you,”

“I know that too. That pretty face of yours doesn’t leave much for imagination. What will you do my dear? Will you run? Cry? Scheme into driving a knife in my heart? Lure me into security and disappear?”

“...You’re personality is quite twisted.”

“I’m curious about the faces you make, that’s all. What will you do, how will you react, how you think. But I do not intend to make you miserable. There’s much to discuss,”

“....Why are you posing as if you’re kind?”

“A caged animal will lash out for it’s freedom,” You say, titting your head to one side “But a looked after one will never bite the hand that feeds.”

“Wouldn’t you be the one closer to an animal with your tendencies?”

“A beast, I hear so often. My point is the same. If I intend to make you even a begrudging ally, I’m not interested in angering you. Nor forcing myself upon you for that matter,” You add the last part intentionally.

“Disgusting,” He says, all while staring at the curve of your neck and your body “Really,”

“I do not intend to force you, but if you’re so against the idea - I think it’d only be fair I’m allowed to see my concubines. It’s your choice.”

He frowns at your explanation. You grin.

“Are you so troubled by it? Would you prefer I only long for you?”

“D-don’t word it like that.” He says, a shake in his voice. You hum, taking a long drag from your pipe.

“Maybe you’re the sentimental type? A lover from the homeland? Or perhaps, you’re just too inexperienced to be confident?”

You can see the exciting look on his face. That type of shame that very few nobles wear. Most of them degenerates, or liars. Prim and properly deceitful. You look at Scaramouche’s honest face and feel something between your legs. How much he wishes to admonish you, or even push you away but is all too curious to refuse. An expression like that is a jewel, a diamond waiting for polish.

You have to chip around it, bit by bit. Too much force and you’ll scratch his beautiful surface, you only pull at him gently. Tease him so tenderly he can’t scurry off.

“Shut up. You know nothing about me,”

“If you’re unsure, you can always try. I can teach you much easier than most,” You say. You wonder if he’ll call your bluff. But he doesn’t. He sits and folds his hands in your lap. He reminds you a bit of those Glaze Lily’s all the way from Liyue. Cold and blue and eye-catching.

Scaramouche does not call your bluff. He shifts to cover his legs and something is overwhelmed inside you. You hold your breath a little. So skittish.

“There’s nowhere for me to return to,” He says first, surprising you, a bitterness in his tone that pleases you “It’s not like I want to stay here or be your ally. But returning to a place that has discarded me is even more disgusting.”

“So we’re allies for now. Understood,” You say, glancing at him “Then, are you giving me permission to sleep with you?”

His eyes widen, face reddening to an impossible degree. A belly laugh leaves you. What a simple person in the end.

“You―W-we have to consummate the marriage, don’t we? A-and if I stay here, I’ll have power. Leaving it open means it’ll be nullified and―”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. If you feel too embarrassed about your desires, you may spread rumors about simply quelling my appetite,” You say with a mild expression, intending it with sincerity “It’d be a shame to do nothing when you’ve dressed up so nicely for your arrival. Come closer,”

Your comment must bother him, but he resigns himself. He does as he’s asked, slowly getting on his knees and crawling towards you. His eyes are erratic, skin flush. He’s simply sitting across from you and he can’t look at you directly. You’re a little astonished by the extent of his innocence, especially with all the violent rumors around him. You blow out the flame of your pipe, and lean to one side away from you.

Then you stretch your legs out, placing your hands gently on his waist so he doesn’t startle. You manuever so he’s stradling you, his knees on either side of your thigh. Looking at him closely is exciting. There’s makeup on his face. Crushed pink pigment smeared on his lip and smoothed with oil and eyes lined with something dark. You reach your hand up to cup his face, and he manages not to flinch.

Though you can hear his heart beat. It’s tremendously loud. Nervous.

“Relax, I won’t eat you, for now. I’ll take take responsibility. Have you kissed anyone?”

“S-so what if I haven’t?”

“We’ll start there. Close your eyes and follow me.”

He listens obediently again, closing his eyes. His hands are clenched over his knee. You grab them and let them rest over your shoulders before sneaking your hand to the side of his face. You lean in to kiss him gently, his skin soft. He smells like lavender and oats, the hairs on his nape brushing against your fingers delicately. His lips are soft as you start slowly, opening your mouth just a little. He learns quickly, following your actions without trying to take lead.

You pull away and do it again. Again and again and again until you’re used to the pace. You use your free hand to squeeze at his delicate waist, relishing in how easily he succumbs to the feelings. He lets out something like a moan that embarasses him near immediately as he pulls away. He’s clumsy but it’s cute, and makes you want to kiss him more.

He turns his head, using his wrist to cover his mouth which you grab swiftly. You grab his chin too, rubbing your thumb on his lip.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” You say, a little more eager than last. He makes a face but listens. You mimic him before kissing him one more time. The feeling of your tongue must surprise him. Either way, his body responds so beautiful. He nearly melts in your arms as you wrap them around his waist, fingers dancing to any bare skin you can. He makes a pretty, pitchy sound for you but doesn’t pull away this time.

When you stop kissing him, his face looks hazy. Frustrated, he almost goes to chase your mouth but stops himself. You smirk just barely, before busying your mouth on his chin. Open kisses trace his jaw as you lean into his pulse.

It beats under your teeth, his heart does, so red and so loud. For a minute you really do want to eat him alive, devour him in one swallow. But you restrain yourself from such desires, instead putting little marks on his body for tommorrow. So everyone knows not to say anything about his status. He can resent you later but for now, it’s a safety precaution.

He makes sounds like a melody, a string insturment in the warm sun. There’s something divinely beautiful about him. His body reacts to your simple touches, a shiver running up his spine as you kiss his neck and grope him lightly. It excites you, those innocent reactions. Makes something stir in your gut and grow hot between your legs.

You feel something shift underneath you. When you look, there’s something hard poking from his clothes. It makes a tent in the delicate fabric where he stands. You pull away just to stare at it, amused by how hard he is.

“Stop looking at it or I’ll gouge your eyes out,”

“It’s cute,” You say with conviction, wrapping your hands around the base with the fabric and squeezing the base “I should get to look,”

“W-what are you?”

“I’ll bet a stuck-up prince type like you didn’t get much education. There are more ways than one to feel pleasure than sticking it in. I’ll show you, so don’t run away,”

He doesn’t have the words to protest. He doesn’t refuse you, just watches through his hands. You rub him so slightly through the thin material. Can see it clear with your eyes adjusted. It fits easily in your palm, tip harsh pink and curved. You place your thumb over the tip, smearing the pre-cum leaking onto the fabric. He’s so sticky, so hard and hot in your palms.

“It’d be better if I touched you directly, but you’re cute like this. So lewd,”

He has nothing to say. A whine or protest gets cut short with a groan of pleasure. You laugh a little. You search the bed for a bottle of oil with your free hand. When you find it, you pull away and drip it into your hands.

“Hold this up for me.” You say softly. He hesitates but does, pulling the skirt up until his cock is visible. You rub the oil into your hands, warming it before wrapping around the shaft. The skin-to-skin proves to be a lot for him, his body already trembling though you’ve hardly touched him. He’s much heavier like this, His cock is smooth and he’s near hairless, You can see so much of him, the plane of his stomach and the musculature of his thighs.

He’s got lithe muscle, nothing too hard or too defined but there all the time. He’s got a dip in one of his hips and a mole that you’ll kiss some other time, just above where you’re touching. You wonder if there’s more. Once you have your way with him you’ll count.

You stroke him slowly and easily. Any more than this might be cruel since this much action seems to be too much. You watchi his expression as you build to a steady pace, paying special attention to the head. His expression is debauched. Inexperienced as you expected, but perhaps even more than that - sensitive. He’s throbbing against the curves of your roughened skin, gasping and holding hard onto your shoulder as he tries to keep himself tight in one place. You lean your head forward, kissing just under his pec.

“This is as far as I’ll go today. Cum for your beloved, hm? Show me your face?”

That seems to do it for him. The use of lover in such a context pushes him over the edge and it only takes two more strokes to spill into your fingers. Thick, hot ropes of cum makes a mess of your fingers as he ruts his cock into your palms chasing his high.

When he’s finished, he nearly collapses into your lap. It sedates all of his previous angers, something you note in the back of your mind.

You bring your hand up your mouth, tasting it. He gasps, scandalized.

“That’s dirty!”

“I’ve done worse. Besides it wasn’t bad. Hand me that,” You gesture. He tosses you the rag to wipe your hand with and you toss it in the basket at the end of your bed. Before he can push you away, you pull him into your arms and laydown.

“What are you doing?” He says, indignant.

“Holding you,” You say without blinking, looking down at him. You wrap your arms around his waist and let him cuddle into you “The concubines get angry if I don’t after,”

“...Don’t talk about them right now,”

You laugh “Right, sorry.”

“....What about me?”

You laugh a little at him pretending he isn’t worried.

“I know you said not to mention it but I’m all worn out for today. So get some sleep. I’ll have my Advisor prepare more in the morning but you should rest.”

“Ugh. Fine. If you insist,” He says, melting into you anyway. You laugh to yourself as he closes his eyes.

You’ve signed up for something fun.

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshim impact x reader #genshin impact smut #writing tag #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #please read this i rlly like how it turned out sdjkdkfj #ask to tag #age gap cw #infidelity cw #cheating cw #<- its not cheating its like common in the time period but im tagging anyway #okay. going to disappear again after queueing a bit bc im supposed to be on hiatus till goj is finished

587 notes · View notes