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dfortrafalgar · 2 months

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Distraction

Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader

You and Ace intended to spend the day at the beach, but he can’t seem to be able to relax.

Warnings: modern au, so much smut. like so much smut. wet, sticky smut. 69-ing briefly. reader is also written to be on the chubbier side (im projecting <3) ace fucks you in the back of his car, basically. MINORS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

I woke up thinking about Ace today so I cranked this out in, like, an hour. It was a nice change of pace while I've been finishing up IMLY and the Luffy fic from my poll, which is almost done! (speaking of which, thank you for 200 followers <3)

Ace hadn’t seen your swimsuit yet. All he knew about it was that you purchased it recently on a shopping trip with a group of your friends, but it was currently concealed under a light t-shirt and denim shorts. Throughout the drive to the shoreline, he was anxiously eyeing your bare thighs, his grip on the steering wheel of his station wagon turning his knuckles white.

“What’s got you so nervous over there?” Your airly voice shook the freckled man out of his daze. “Eyes on the road, hotshot.”

“It’s nothing,” he blurted, pouting and turning his attention back to the road. Maybe he should have you sit in the backseat when your skin was exposed.

His own friends often joked that he was no better than a dog. It wasn’t his fault that his sex drive was higher than cruising altitude… or maybe it was. But he couldn’t help his wandering eyes when the soft skin of your plush thighs was exposed, or the way your deft hands fiddled with your cuticles as you stared out the window, sparkling eyes taking in the cloudless summer day as the backroads passed by on the drive to the beach. Most of your evenings together were spent with either his head between your legs, your head between his legs, or your face smushed into a soft pillow while Ace desperately railed you from behind.

It was a good life, that’s for sure.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach,” you suddenly stated, turning your head to look at your flustered boyfriend. “I’ve only ever been swimming in pools recently!”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice shaky.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Ace, are you really alright? Your face is kind of red.” You reached your hand over to press your palm to his forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever, do you?”

“Nah, I feel fine. Honestly. Just… thinking.” One of his hands left the steering wheel to rub his sweating palm against the fabric of his swim trunks. All he had on, other than the baggy trunks, was a white tank top that had a very unfortunate oil stain around the chest area. He was sure his entire upper body was flushing red with the debauched thoughts that plagued his weary brain. He hadn’t even seen your bathing suit yet and his mind was running in circles. (He started to debate calling up that therapist that Sabo recommended.)

“Well, tell me if you really don’t feel good. I don’t want you to force yourself to be out today just because of me,” you cooed, your voice soft and comforting.

He needed to tell you to stop talking. Even the sound of your voice made butterflies swarm in his gut.

He might as well have been ovulating.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees surrounding the backroad route he had taken began to dissipate, replaced with the beautiful sight of the shoreline. The ocean spanned outward as far as you could see, disappearing along the horizon and blending in with the bright blue sky. A few small beach houses dotted the shore.

“You said this was a public beach, right?” you asked curiously.

Ace nodded, swallowing a thick glob of spit. “Public, but very minimal. There’s some private properties surrounding it so a lot of people assume the entire place is off-limits to locals, but there’s a small parking lot set back from the beach near a tiny bathroom shack-lookin’ thing.”

You grinned. “Nice.”

“Do you not like public beaches?” he inquired, tossing you a side eye as he pulled further down the road, approaching the aforementioned parking lot.

“I don’t mind them,” you replied. “But sometimes really busy beaches make me nervous. Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable swimming when there’s too many people around… I get self-conscious in my bathing suits!” Your statement was punctuated with a fluttering, nervous laugh as you involuntarily squeezed the skin of your thighs.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that when I’m here,” Ace replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

The parking lot seemed sparse. It was entirely gravel with a few decrepit wooden fences separating where cars could park, some overgrown weeds poking through the impacted dirt here and there. Sure enough, there was a brown, run-down bathroom shack between the beach and the parking lot. During high tide, it almost seemed like the entire area would get flooded, but the gravel was drier than bone thanks to the beating sunlight.

You dug through your bag, removing a tube of sunblock.

“I thought you already put on sunscreen before we left,” Ace said, pulling into a spot and putting his beat-up station wagon in park.

“I did, I’m just putting some extra on my face,” you responded, uncapping the tube and squeezing some of the white gel onto your fingers. You deftly rubbed the lotion onto your skin, across your cheeks and brow, down your nose, and down your neck.

Ace needed to look away from you as your hands trailed down your neck and across your collarbones, ridding your hands of the excess lotion. You weren’t provoking him on purpose, he knew that, but clearly his dick was taking charge of the day.

Little prick.

The two of you excitedly exited the car, grabbing your small umbrella and towels to find a nice spot to set up camp on the sand. You were quick to lay down your towel when you found a spot, Ace digging a deep hole into the ground to mount the umbrella and provide a shelter from the beating sunlight. Only a few other people were dotted around the beach, mostly older folk who were most certainly retired and enjoying their elderly days basking in the sunlight. The thought made you smile. You watched with glittering eyes as Ace pulled his tank top over his lean body, his muscular chest rippling with his movements, letting the cloth fall into his bag in a wrinkled heap.

“Oh, shit, forgot the cooler,” Ace mumbled suddenly. “I’ll be right back.” He swiftly turned tail and hiked through the sand back to his car.

You smiled, crawling under the umbrella and feeling the sand beneath the fabric shift below your knees. You slid your denim shorts down your legs, shifting your weight to pull them off before folding them neatly and tucking them into your beach bag. Your shirt followed, your hands hooking under the bottom hem and pulling it up over your head, repeating the process of folding it and storing it away. Weirdly enough, you felt more comfortable on this beach than any other. While some old folk liked to gab, the sparse population on this beach seemed more than willing to keep to themselves. And there was no risk of creepy men your age or obnoxious teenagers to toss rogue comments about your body or shitty pick-up lines.

And you had Ace, of course, who would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked. The thought made your stomach flutter with glee.

Back in the parking lot, Ace was quick to haul open his trunk and grab the small cooler they had packed with water, some sodas, and some light snacks, slinging it over his bare shoulder and slamming the door closed. The hinges made a terrible squealing noise as the door moved. He really needed to get that fixed. He quickly jogged back to the shoreline with the cooler bag in his possession, his sandals making scuff marks in the gravel.

He almost died and came back to life when he saw you from behind.

Your clothes were off, your body hugged in a bikini that looked sculpted for you and only you. The strawberry-print bodice was tied around your neck and below your shoulder blades with thin straps, the front of the suit being held together in the front with a metal ring between the bust. Your plump breasts peeked over the seams slightly, making blood rush to Ace’s face. The solid-colored bottoms squeezed your hips and ass perfectly, with one side open and held together with strings in an intricate criss-cross pattern.

Ace’s feet were moving on their own, his soul ascending from his body as he floated toward you.

You heard the rustle of his swim trunks from behind you as you approached, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Hey! All set with the cooler?”

He plopped to his knees on his own towel, the cooler hitting the ground with a thud. “Yeah, all set…” His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.

You gazed at him with confusion painting your features.

“You… you look…” Ace could barely look at you. “You look so fucking hot… oh my god.”

Suddenly, his demeanor in the car made much more sense. The constant red flush painting his adorable freckled cheeks, his mouth in a perpetual tongue-tie, his lips pursing together tightly as he struggled to keep his composure. Your lips pulled into a bright smile, relishing in the flustered behavior of your boyfriend.

“Aww, thank you, baby!” you cooed, moving closer to him. Your hands trailed down his arm, ghosting over the tattoo on his bicep before teasingly falling to the cooler and unzipping the top, pulling an orange soda out of the bag.

“Please don’t tease me, I think I might explode,” Ace huffed.

You popped open the can with a satisfying click, taking a quick sip from the opening. “You know… I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with our stuff if you want to go back to the car…”

Ace’s dark eyes darted toward you, assessing the mischievous expression on your face as you kept the cold soda can pressed against your mouth. The metal was rapidly developing condensation thanks to the heat in the air, droplets of water dripping down the orange can and onto your fingers, plopping against your folded knees.

He carefully removed the soda from your hands, tucking it back into the cooler to make sure it didn’t spill, before standing up and hauling you to your feet, dragging you by your hand across the hot sand and back to the parking lot for a third time. He ripped his car keys from the pocket of his swim trunks, shoving the metal key into the door lock to open the vehicle before leading you to the trunk and popping open the door. You quickly clamored inside, him following behind you and closing the trunk from the inside. He chucked his keys somewhere towards the front of the car.

He wasted absolutely no time in smashing his lips against yours, making you wince slightly at the feeling of his teeth hitting your own, but the way his long fingers expertly groped the skin of your breasts below your bikini top made you forget about the momentary discomfort.

After a few stifling moments, Ace pulled away and heaved into the skin of your neck, holding you down by your shoulders.

The best part about him owning an old, refurbished station wagon was the ample amount of room in the back, as well as the lack of center console between the two front seats. It was a car built for fucking.

“Is this what you were thinking of on the ride over here?” you asked, a coy tone on your tongue. “About what my new swimsuit would look like?”

Ace grumbled, a childish pout on his lips as one of his hot hands continued to rub patterns up and down your side. Up to your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your concealed nipple, trailing down your waist and groping the plush flesh of your belly, down your thigh to squeeze your ass. The way the strings on the exposed side of your bottom piece fit into your skin made his cock throb.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggled, your own hands leaving scorching patterns over his shoulders and arms. “Are you ovulating? You’re acting like me before my period.”

“Shush,” he grumbled, followed by another sweltering kiss, all tongue. You felt a dribble of spit leave the corner of your mouth, sticking to the skin of your cheek. His lips moved against yours, exchanging a blistering heat. Ace always seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest days, and his presence in this moment filled your body with a heated, lustful buzz. Goosebumps rose on your skin when he pulled away from you leaving your front exposed, gently biting your puffy lower lip with his teeth.

“How worried are you about someone messing with our things on the beach?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You adjusted yourself slightly below him, his knees beside your hips caging you onto the floor of his trunk. “Hmm… not too worried.”

“Perfect,” Ace replied swiftly, tugging his swim trunks down.

He had such a nice cock, perfectly shaped with a cut tip that flushed a beautiful rosy hue. A slight upward curve, lean and not too long, perfect. He was either hard for the entire time you were setting up your small spot on the sand and you hadn’t noticed, or he was fighting with every fiber in his body to keep the erection at bay. Whatever the circumstance, the fantasy of spontaneously fucking you in the trunk of his car in that sexy bikini of yours that he daydreamed about on the drive down was finally coming true.

Your hands made a move down to your hips to pull on the fabric of your bottoms before his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement.

“Sorry,” he uttered, his voice a soft whisper filled with a desperation you rarely saw from him. “Your suit stays on.”

Your mouth morphed into a grin as he released you, leaning back up on his knees and idly stroking his cock with his right hand. You parted your legs for him, making a show of smushing your breasts together under your tight top. God, your suit could have been molded onto your body, it looked so good.

“Are you going to stay there and jerk off over me, or are you going to share some of the fun?” you asked deviously, one of your hands crawling below your bottoms and teasing your clit with the slick that had built up. A pleasant, tingling flutter resonated in your belly and floated down your thighs, but nothing was better than the feeling of his fingers and cock doing the work for you.

“I want to do everything to you,” he muttered, releasing his dick from his slow ministrations. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

You watched as it bobbed in the air, so hard it held itself out away from Ace’s toned stomach. You involuntarily licked your lips at the sight. “You’re so pretty…” you muttered. You took it upon yourself to sit up, gently pushing against Ace’s shoulders to get him to sit on the trunk floor on his ass, leaning against him further to get the hint to lay down in the position you had just been in.

Neither of you had a strictly dominating or strictly submissive attitude. Rather, you mutually shared the moment, taking charge when you wanted and snatching the lead away whenever you pleased. This was one of those moments as you rotated your body on top of his, moving your ass closer to his face as one of your hands ghosted along his hip bone, your other arm supporting you and keeping you upright.

Ace got the hint almost immediately, his greedy hands groping and squeezing your ass as he pulled you downward to rest your clothed cunt against his mouth. The hotness of his breath and the feeling of his lips against your weeping pussy concealed by the polyester made your breath hitch as your lips traveled closer and closer to the tip of his dick, watching hungrily as it seemed to pulse in the air, desperate for attention.

Your boyfriend made the first move, pulling you down by your hips and resting your cunt over his mouth, his tongue forcing its way between your folds through the suit and quickly finding your clit. You gasped, your arm shaking somewhat as you quickly followed his lead, wasting no time in taking his cock into your hot, ready mouth.

And goodness, did he taste good. A familiar slightly salty musk partnered with the residual scent of his daily body spray, a vanilla and cedar flavor that always made your heart flutter in your chest. His cock might as well have been burning as you hollowed out your lips and took him further down your mouth, loving the way the organ pulsed against your tongue.

On the other end, Ace’s fingers had found their way into the fabric of your bathing suit, holding the barrier aside as two of his digits spread your natural slick over your cunt and lubricated his skin before he pressed them into your pussy, addicted to the way your muscles constricted around him. Your entrance was always on the tighter side no matter how many times you fucked, and it was absolute heaven for him. He turned the pads of his two fingers forward, pushing gently against the roof of your vagina where he knew you were acutely sensitive, and smirked to himself when your thighs clenched around his head. Your movements over his cock momentarily stuttered at the feeling of his thumb connecting with your clit to simultaneously stroke the needy bud while passionately fingering your pussy.

He knew you too well. He knew what you needed. Ace wasn’t a selfish lover, he had learned your quirks and needs very early on in your relationship. You loved your clit rubbed in somewhat slow circles, alternating between various pressures. You responded to his fingers against your g-spot, and you loved when his dick curled upward into the same area. Not too deep so as to hit your cervix, which hurt you quite a bit, but deep enough to reach those sensitive areas that had your legs shaking.

You learned quickly too, however. Ace’s tip was the most sensitive part of him, his breaths growing shallow when you delicately sucked your lips around it and trailed your tongue along the slit, collecting the small amount of salty precum that emerged from the tip. He loved it when you gently fondled his balls, rubbing the wrinkled skin between the pads of your fingers. He adored the inside of his thighs being caressed, and you tried your best to do both with one hand as the other trembling appendage fought to support your weight as you continued to blow him.

You popped off of his cock momentarily, stroking the base with your hand. “Did you have fruit recently?” you asked, turning your head somewhat to look over your shoulder. Not like you could see much.

Ace paused his motions against your pussy. “... Maybe.”

You grinned, the usually salty, bitter taste of his essence now replaced with something slightly sweeter. You wanted to egg him on, to ask him if he had planned for this to happen and eaten some pineapple or citrus with his breakfast in preparation, but you decided to keep your inquiries to yourself and return to your task of sucking him off.

Ace was content to keep fingering you, his current position in between your thighs a bit too difficult to involve his tongue, but he knew he could please you regardless. The circular movements of his calloused thumb against your throbbing clit had you sucking in sharp, lustful breaths through your nose, small whimpers leaving your throat and vibrating down his shaft making him bite his lip and stifle a wheeze. Your thighs were quivering as he continued to curl his fingers into your g-spot, following the rhythm of your lips around his cock.

After some moments, however, you quickly scrambled off of him, your hand clutching around your stomach as you pivoted above him, capturing his lips in yours. You ground your clothed cunt over his pulsing cock, keeping it locked between your pussy and his toned abdomen.

“Now who’s the desperate one?” he asked, teasingly, his signature boyish smirk traveling right back to your clit.

“I can’t help it, you’re contagious,” you huffed against the skin of his cheek.

Usually, the two of you used lube. It didn’t matter how wet you got thanks to foreplay, the sensations were always heightened when there was no risk of chafing. But clearly, you didn’t have that luxury today. Nor did you have any condoms. Instead, you bit down your thoughts, reserved yourself to spending 70 beri on the morning-after pill later that day, and hovered over his cock. You pulled your swimsuit to the side and took his dick in your hands, wasting no time in slipping it through your folds that were thoroughly drenched thanks to Ace’s expert fingers.

The first insertion always hurt somewhat. A slight, red-hot throbbing pain that radiated through your pelvis, followed by a pleasant pressure as his cock slowly intruded into your tight muscle. The groan that radiated from Ace’s throat made your pussy flutter.

That was another thing you loved about him. He was loud.

Maybe on a normal day you’d be worried about someone hearing you, or seeing the way his car shook with the force of your collective moments, but both of you had succumbed to desperation and couldn’t care less. Traumatize the elderly beach goers who might happen to walk through the gravel parking lot to their own cars.

You sunk fully down onto Ace’s hips, his dick perfectly nestled inside your wet and willing pussy as his hands tightly gripped your hips through your suit bottoms. You slowly rocked your hips, desperate for some extra friction against your clit. It was much harder with the fabric covering you, but eventually you found a movement that felt just right. Edging your hips slightly forward, you rolled your pelvis against his, dragging your clothed slit over the taught skin of his lower abdomen, moaning at the feeling of his dick pulsing within you.

Maybe you really didn’t have to worry about lube today. Every motion against the walls of your vagina had you biting your lip and arching your back over him.

Ace’s hands assisted with bouncing you on his cock, his voice slowly increasing in volume as he watched you through half-lidded as your breasts jiggled with each movement, how the fat of your belly and thighs rippled so deliciously as you gyrated above him. His voice was delectable, gruff and whiny, higher-pitched than usual with stuttering breaths and hitches in his throat that had your heart beating a mile a minute.

Your legs were growing tired, and Ace could tell. He wordlessly beckoned you off of him, being quick to lean you over the back seats and move your suit to the side again, slipping his cock back in between your folds. This angle always fit the both of you. As much as Ace loved it when you rode him, taking you from behind came with many more benefits. His free hand could travel down to dip beneath the cloth of your swimsuit and rub those delicious circles against your clit while simultaneously thrusting his desperate hips against your ass. His chest pressed into your shoulder blades, his free hand supporting him against the back of the seats as you held onto the leather for dear life, whining with each motion of his cock against your inner walls and his calloused fingers against your clit.

It didn’t take long for you to unravel, the feeling of his rough finger pads against your desperate nub too much to bear. Your orgasm approached slowly at first, filling your stomach with warmth, the insides of your eyelids flashing purple and indigo, before your body snapped and you were shuddering against Ace, moaning out loud as your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock, your cunt feeling feather light as it fluttered. The force of your orgasm caused you to gyrate your hips back against his, weak, airy moans escaping your tongue as the red-hot pleasure radiated through your entire body leaving your pussy buzzing with the aftershocks.

Ace was barely holding it together. The force of your orgasm causing your pussy to clench around his cock had his arms weakening against the seat, his hips frantically rutting into you as sultry moans left his lips at the feeling of his cock burning inside you, begging for satisfaction. His fingers never stopped rubbing your clit, caught up in what had essentially become second nature for him. The overstimulation had you twitching around him, shallow breaths heaving from your lungs. Ace’s pace increased as did the stuttering of his hips, his thrusts growing more shallow as his own orgasm approached.

“A-Ace… fuck, baby…” you whined, dropping your forehead against the back of the seat. “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

The man was too caught up in the throes of pleasure. Calling him desperate earlier was clearly an understatement. A loud, throaty groan reverberated from his lips as his hips rapidly drilled into you, forcing you against the back of the seat. His shallow breaths only helped to fuel your second orgasm that rocked you with a sudden wash of white light behind your eyes and you were shuddering against him again, your own moans filling the stifling air of the car.

Ace barely had time to call out your name before he was thrusting disjointedly into you, crackled, weary moans leaving his lips as he came into your sore cunt, his hands pressing down onto your lower back to keep you still as he buried his cock into you, soaking you more than you already were. You felt him pull out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as the sound of him falling backwards against the closed door of his trunk filled your ears.

Your own spent body dropped to the side, sitting on your hip and barely holding yourself up with one hand. You slowly picked your head up, gazing at your boyfriend and assessing his condition.

Black hair mussed beyond belief, his freckled cheeks and shoulders flushed with a delicate red hue, his lips wet and swollen parted with the force of his labored breathing. His eyes were closed, jaw slack as his pelvis continued to twitch from the force of his orgasm. A few last drops of cum were bubbling from his tip, slowly dripping down his drenched dick that almost glistened, covered in your own fluids. You felt wet between your legs. It would have been a nice feeling if you weren’t already so stifling, your entire body feeling sticky. You finally noticed the way the windows had fogged up. You didn’t have time to think about carbon dioxide toxicity before Ace’s weary hand traveled up to the back window of his trunk door, blindly popping the window open a crack to let some fresh air flow into the car. The summer heat felt oddly cool against your sweaty skin.

You slowly crawled closer to Ace, ignoring the way your drenched cunt sat uncomfortably inside your bathing suit. You combed a damp strand of black hair off of his forehead before delicately pressing your lips against his cheek, encouraging him to finally open his eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice low and quiet.

He finally smiled, his narrow, dark eyes filling your chest with warmth. “I think my heart almost stopped.”

You giggled, running your sweaty hand up and down his skin. “Should I wear bathing suits around you more often? I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that.”

Your boyfriend’s humble laughter made you grin. “For the sake of my health, you probably shouldn’t.” He finally leaned forward to press a tender kiss against your wet lips. “Though, if I were to die fucking you in a bikini, I’d die a very, very happy man.”

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616 notes · View notes

uravichii · 1 year

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* ੈ✩‧₊* you fell first, but bakugo katsuki fell harder

notes: pls idk what this is ive literally never written anyth like this but ive always wanted to write a fic w/ this prompt,, also im thinking of doing an angst version of this 🤩

genre: fluff, lovesick bakugo + reader flirts w/ him a lot, childhood friends to lovers, tw: BARELY PROOFREAD ‼️

bakugo katsuki doesn't know anyone who annoys him more than you do.

he doesn't believe he's gotten this far in one piece when he's been stuck with someone like you since childhood. there's something infuriating about the way you tug on the strap of his school bag when both you and his mother are insisting that you walk to school together in the morning. it's even more infuriating when he doesn't know what in the world is fluttering in his chest and churning in his stomach when you start tugging on his sleeve instead.

bakugo katsuki has no idea why and when exactly he started doing it, but now his blood boils watching that dorky smile on your face while he carries your bag to school every morning and on the way home too.

"katsuki." you playfully bump your shoulder against his arm and grin, "you love me, don't you?"

"i'm doing this 'cuz you look like a fucking camel with this bulky ass bag of yours." he scowls, trying to ignore the tiny, tingling spark he felt on the fleck of his skin that met yours for a single second. "what hell is even in this, rocks?"

"is your back hurting? let me give you a back massage then. c'mon, take off your shirt and lie down."

he grimaces, a flush of scarlet spreading from his cheeks to the tip of his ears.

"what?" you chuckle. "you know we've seen each other naked before, right? remember when we used to take baths together as children? i even let you touch my-"

"shut the fuck up, l/n."

it's maddening how easily you fluster him, like it's your second nature. a teasing remark and a single wink, and he's all over the place. all he can do is click his tongue and walk straight ahead of you (though occasionally looking back if you're still with him)

bakugo katsuki tries to counter your flirty remarks. he can do better, he swears he can. a multitude of emotions takes over him when he sees a sliver of your underwear peeking through your clothes. his cheeks flush and his nails bury into his palmsー partly from the thoughts racing relentlessly in his head, and partly out of wrath for anyone who would dare to ogle you or loudly point it out to the whole room.

he stands protectively close behind you like a guard dog, obstructing anyone even a glimpse. he speaks in a low voice you didn't know he was even capable of, his breath grazing your skin. "oi. nice underwear." once again, he's annoyed to the brim hearing that faint tremble in his words.

he's relieved and all the same, flustered, watching you realize and immediately fumbling with your clothes, but no matter how many attempts, no matter how much he swears he can be a match to you and your teasing nature,

"nice? i'll let you borrow if you like it that much then."

you are the only losing game bakugo katsuki has ever been in.

what annoys him even more is that for some reason, he's able to bare his soul to you, in spite of the sheer ugliness, the cruelty of it, and the pathetic, endless heaps of insecurities overflowing from him.

he presses his palms against his face in a futile attempt to muffle out his angry sobs. you brush a hand over his heaving shoulder, "it's gonna be okay, katsuki. i promise." when he doesn't flinch nor pulls away, you gently coax him into a light embrace, your torsos barely touching yet emitting such intoxicating and soothing heat onto each other.

"the fuck are you crying for?" he snaps, confused and concerned as to why you're suddenly sniffling with him.

"i know, it's stupid." you hug him tighter. "i swear i'm not making this about me. i justー i wish i knew how to make you feel better."

'annoying,' he thinks as he hugs your waist and buries his tear-stained face into the crook of your neck. "i'm going to kill you if you tease me about this tomorrow, l/n."

"hey, i don't do that." you whisper comfortingly despite the threat. "you know i won't."

he knows you won't.

most of all, it gets on bakugo katsuki's nerves the most when he remembers you've had genuine, actual romantic feelings for him since you were children, and it's not just fickle banter and incessant flirting here and there.

"shit. your fever's still high." he mutters, pressing his large palm on your forehead. it astounds both of you how it almost covers your whole face. mindlessly, he shifts his palm sweetly to your cheek, tucking in any stray hair out of your face. what in the world have you done to have him wrapped around your little finger like this? you have him buying you medicine and checking your temperature with pure and utter concern, feeding you food he cooked specially for your taste, and holding your perfect little hand just because you asked him to.

"thanks for taking care of me, katsuki."

"you're a pain in the ass, l/n."

katsuki anticipates another joke or a flirty remarkー something about ass most likely, but then you look up at him, widely staring, and you speak in the steadiest voice you could muster, "am i really?"

he doesn't answer.

"can i tell you something?" you continue. there's a pang in katsuki's chest when you slide your hands off of his. "i like you, katsuki. i still do after all these yearsー"

"shut up. that's your fever talking"

"no, this is just me talking. even if i wake up tomorrow and don't remember anything i said to you today, i'll probably end up saying the same thing again someday, and my feelings won't have changed at all."

steering clear of your eyes, katsuki starts rearranging the stacks of medicine on your nightstand and adjusting your blanket when your frail hand latches onto his wrist.

"i just need to know if you're actually uncomfortable with me or if i have absolutely no chance at all, then i'll stop. i'll distance myself from you even. if that's what you want."

he would never forgive you nor himself for it.

you laugh weakly and continue, "and then maybe i'll just date todoroki or somethingー"

"fuck it." he hisses. he swings the blanket over your face so he won't have to bear your gaping eyes when he spits out, "dumbass, i do like you. don't ever do that, jesus."

there's half a minute of silence between you, him still distraught over the mere image of you and todoroki, and you still buried in the blanket, sinking everything in. you pull the sheet slowly until your eyes peek out. it's unbelievely annoying, again, how fucking adorable you are, katsuki thinks.

"you do? since when?" you ask in a tiny voice that will echo in his mind for the rest of the day, he knows it.

"does it matter?"

"no?" you pull the blanket over yourself again.

and then another minute of agonizing silence.

"katsuki?"

"what? you need anything?"

"yeah. kind of."

"what is it?" he starts to panic a little, "tell me." your fever completely slipping his mind in the heat of the moment.

"can you tell me you like me again when i get better? i have a feeling i'll remember this is a fever dream, then i won't stop talking about it to you, and it'll be so embarrassing."

his mouth quirks up into a smirk. "how about this," he pulls the blanket off you and leans slowly, your cheeks flushing even hotter. he brushes his hand against your forehead and gently presses a kiss, his heart in shambles when he catches brief sight of you shutting your eyes tight. "i like you."

you open them again to see a devilish smirk on his face, except it's noticeably much softer than the usual one he wears. he kisses your cheek next, inhaling your scent as he presses his lips against your warm skin, "i like you."

you're a whole mess now. it's the feverish heat spreading across your cheeks as his hand makes its way to yours under the blanket, the close proximity of bakugo katsuki, his scent, the immense heat that gets you dazed and hitches your breath when he props his forehead onto yours. it's the years of closeness and familiarity you've always shared with him, now blooming into something more, like a flower that has just learned to face the sun and bask in the sweet, easy morning air.

"i like you." he says again. maybe he is a match for you after all. "if it's the only way to shut you up. i'll tell it over and over again."

you fell first. bakugo katsuki fell harder, much harder. seeing you escape under the blanket again and squealing when he tries to pull it back down, he doesn't remember what is it that he found so terrifying in falling in love with you.

it's you, after all, isn't it? the most annoying little shit he's always loved.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bakugo x you #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bakugo katsuki headcanons #bakugo headcanons #bakugo katsuki x you #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugo katsuki imagines

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manicpixiefelix · 6 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 2.

Summary: Felix and Y/N's first year of university means being more open with how close they are, while perhaps growing a little more distant than Felix would like. Also the Catton family have bestowed Y/N their own title, which Felix hates, and Y/N and Farleigh have a moment of connection over Christmas.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: Smut (reader bottoming but their gender is not made explicit), Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog & pet)

A/N: 3071 words. i definitely meant to get to the start of their second year/first run in with Oli..... but this chapter got long enough, so instead we'll meet Oliver at the start of the next chapter and instead we get Felix and Reader at university, best friends who hook up shenanigans, Venetia being a pot-stirrer because she likes to rile up her brother, and Farleigh and Y/N bonding and boning. i feel like the pacing is a bit strange so id love some feedback <3 ALSO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT UK COLLEGE CALANDERS IM SO SORRY LOL

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo

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To absolutely no-ones surprise, least of all yours, Felix takes to the social aspects of college like a duck to water. Neither of you missed a single day or night of activities during first year orientation, and you both left the various pubs and bars with a different hook up each night.

Felix sees a poster for a band in town, and crows with laughter as he talks about how his mother would hate if he ever got a piercing, but you know the look in his eye too well, and tell him there's a piercing place a block away.

"God I miss Farleigh," you sigh with a smile, watching him size himself up in the mirror of the tattoo parlour where the piercer had drawn approximate dots to mark his soon-to-be eyebrow piercing.

"Oh he'd love this, wouldn't he?" Felix agrees, grinning from ear to ear, catching your gaze in the reflection. Despite the piercer's reassurance that it doesn't actually hurt that bad, Felix plays up the bit of being concerned, insisting that you hold his hand.

It's easier in this environment to be affectionate. Perhaps its the way that all nights liked to blur together, lips and teeth and tongues and hands, and you find yourself invited to parties and into bedrooms and Felix is in the crowd, pupils wide and drugs in his blood and knowing you can take care of yourself.

Fruit flies mistaking his light in the night for the rot they're used to.

That being said, while of course Felix is gorgeous and the life of the party, your own magnetic aura and love features draw in your own crowd of admirers; you proximity to Felix was merely a perk.

You yourself find yourself blooming at college; with a far stronger sense of identity than you'd had for most of your teenage years, you shed many of your adolescent insecurities and begin to embrace yourself and the people around you as more than just Felix's friends.

"I miss you," he teases, eyes shiny and pupils huge, looking at you with that look that made everyone else weak in the knees. The two of you are crammed too close in a booth at a club, everyone else having left to dance or find something interesting to snort in the bathrooms.

"I'm always around, Fi," you murmur, just as high, lips twisted into a bleary smile, your finger beneath his chin to lift his face to you.

"They love you here," he grinned, lips inches from yours, skin glowing with sweat from the adrenaline and high of the night, "knew they would," it's not especially jealous, more proud, and you sigh against his lips with the kind of warm contentment his praise always brings you.

"Don't care if they love me," you say, very tellingly, voice low and flirty. Anyone could see the two of you, but the unspoken rules of high school had fallen away; the rules of college seemed to prioritise a lack of judgement, especially with the people you surrounded yourself with. Felix giggles, flushing red, leaning into your touch, leaning even heavier against you in the little, otherwise empty booth.

"You miss me, Fi?" You prompt, letting his face go as you wrap an arm around him, drawing you in close to him. Despite his height, he folds himself up to lean into you. Felix giggles again, mostly to himself, clearly shitfaced, without answering, he angles his face up to press a kiss to your neck, "we see each other every day, we still fuck around, we -"

"Do you think I could live without you?" He asks suddenly, and surprisingly frankly. His chin is on your shoulder, eyes wide and demanding an answer. It's not a joke, nor some strange attempt at flirting, and your throat turns dry as the lights spin around you both.

"You're drunk," you tell him gently, "and high."

"Why would I ask that?" He frowns, suddenly, sitting up, as if he's talking more to himself than you, "that's a fucked question actually, sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have -"

"I think it's more about how you feel about it." You tell him gently, "we should get water. You sit here, I'll get it."

You're unsteady on your feet when you head to the bar, collecting two cups of water, almost overflowing, from the end, trying not to think about it all. It didn't matter either way, how he thought or felt about it. It was a foolish, drunken question, it doesn't matter. Right?

Except he's bopping back and forth in his seat, tapping the rhythm with surprising success on the table top, eyes shining in the light where all he seems to look at is you. Felix grin wide and bright, thanks already in his smile before the words reach his lips as you sit back down next to him.

You could live without him, but you know you'd never want to, so long as he'd want you around.

"Think I'd rather die than live without you," he says with little prompting, holding the cup with both hands as he downs half in a single gulp. What?

"What?"

He turns those perfect, brown eyes upon you like you don't already live your life in his shape, like he hadn't validated every choice you'd made since you'd met him. He smiles.

"You're my best mate, you're always good to me and help me with shit and never get mad at all the dumb ideas I have and you've made sure I haven't gotten kicked out of any schools, even if I probably deserved it," he rambles and takes another drink, this time choosing to look out at the nauseating crowd of haze and lights and bodies, "I love you, I don't think I could live without you."

"Is that why you miss me?" Your voice is barely audible above the music, but Felix still hears it. Putting his mostly empty cup on the table, he shoves his shoulder against yours, refusing to let up until his full weight is against you, the two of you toppling down in the booth, him draped over you wearing the absolute goofiest grin. It's a good reminder that you're both incredibly drunk.

"Just miss you."

You stumble out of the bar together, and back to the dorms. Felix is insistent that you stay with him.

"No funny business," he mumbles against your ear, breath hot and smirk in his voice, "promise."

"You couldn't get it up if you tried," you snorted, "whiskey dick." Though he tries to protest, you gently elbow him in the ribs and he sulkily admits that you're probably right. Still, in the warmth of his room and the two of you stripped to your underwear, it's kind of irresistible to not make out like teenagers for a good while. You get you both glasses of water to put on the nightstand, and Felix tells you he loves you while on the brink of sleep.

"Love you too, Fi."

"Couldn't live without you, meant it," he hiccups, cracking an eye to smirk up at you from where he's splayed out on the bed, "probably."

"Don't think I could live without you either," you shuffle yourself into the bed beside him, letting him roll over to wrap an arm around you, "even if you are a fucking wanker sometimes," you grin, and hear him laugh into his pillow.

Felix has more game than anyone you've ever met without even trying, stealing and breaking hearts from all areas of the university. You watch it happen with amusement as you find your own slew of pretty guys and girls to keep you company when you feel like it. Still, for all the charisma and charm Felix had been blessed with, his touch-starved nature becomes both a blessing and a curse when he finds himself drunk and tactile and desperate for touch.

A desperate, affection Felix loses all of those carefully-curated social barriers that the two of you had put between yourselves as teenagers in public. Girls are more open and supportive around here; perhaps you should be offended, that many, once they learn he's prone to clinging to you, to kissing you, they end up rationalising it. It doesn't count.

Or perhaps they think they can shift the affection to themselves. Felix always learns to be more affectionate to them, but will find himself with you more often than he's not.

And those girls don't even know about the sex.

"I think about you," he huffs between short, jagged breaths, with you bent over the end of his bed, "is that weird?"

His latest breakup isn't even twelve hours old yet, but when you'd showed up at his room with a six-pack of beers and the offer to let him vent, he'd taken it without hesitation. While they hadn't been going out for long, she'd been pretty, but an apparently lousy fuck. When you'd jokingly offered to remind him what a decent lay was like, Felix had genuinely jumped at the chance.

"A bit - ah," you mused for a moment, hips rocking back to meet his in a pleasant rhythm. He takes a pause to tap one of your ankles with his foot, and you adjust your stance to be a bit wider, "what context? Just in general - fuck, Fi, there," and you find yourself lost for words as he presses his hand against the small of your back. His pace remains steady as he fucks you, and you obliging lean further down; he knows you well, know how to fuck you just the way you both enjoy.

Then you're in his bed, straddling him, riding him with his hands on your hips, your thighs, bouncing as his nails dig pleasantly into your skin.

"Think about me?" You finally continue, breathless, and something about the way he holds you steady, lets you pause as he laughs, flushed cheeks growing even more read, makes you grin too, "you mean like this, don't you?" And you rolled your hips, eliciting a groan from him that was like music to your ears.

"Shut up," he'd laughed, giving you a squeeze, unable to meet your gaze.

"Did you ever call out my name?" You lean down, across him, and for a moment his hands slide up your body to wrap around your neck, bringing you in for a gentle kiss.

"Thankfully not."

"Still, those poor girls," you teased.

"Poor me," Felix argued, "having to try and power through terrible sex while thinking about someone who's not even there, just because I know you're better at it," and he played at pouting for a moment, looking for sympathy.

"You really didn't have to tell me all this," you laughed, sitting back up and setting a gentle pace, smiling down at him, "you're such a perv." When his fingertips trail down your body, a shiver runs down your spine. There's this look in his eyes for just a moment, something knowing, something teasing, something you'd seen on occasion that made you feel so wanted and seen and -

He likes you knowing.

"You gonna give me something to think about?" That tone of voice, the teasing, the faintest hint of authority, like he's pretending like he doesn't know all the ways you'd debauch yourself if only he asked.

Venetia gets you a collar for Christmas, and Farleigh's already been kicked out of several universities by the time your first Winter break had arrived.

"Oh Pet, that's so cute," Elspeth coos at the designer, velvet collar that Venetia had smugly handed over while Felix had scowled, "is that Cartier?" Much to Felix's dismay, Elspeth and Sir James have apparently taken to calling you Pet as a pet name. He blames his sister entirely.

"Pet's easier, sweetheart," Elspeth had tried to argue when you'd sat down at your first breakfast of the Winter break at Saltburn, and she'd asked Duncan 'don't forget about our dear pet'. Naturally Felix had frowned the entire time while arguing with his parents, who insisted it's easier to use Pet than a whole new set of names and pronouns.

"It's been years mum, how have you not adjusted?" He demands, while you have shrunken in your chair and tried to divine life's secrets from your breakfast.

"What do you think, Pet?" Venetia said with a venomous kind of sweetness. Looking up at her, she's wearing this smug kind of smile, directed not at you but at Felix next to you. When you look to him, you see Farleigh across the table trying to hide his amusement in several pieces of toast eaten with no break in between.

"I think," you paused, looking past an annoyed Felix to his mother at the head of the table, "that if you want to call me Pet, you can, I think it's sweet, but please don't expect Felix to refer to me as such," you said with a surprising amount of firmness. Then after a beat of surprise from the rest of the table, you took a deep breath, "and for events and guests, I really wouldn't appreciate being introduced as such."

"Of course," Elspeth quickly amends, adding, "Y/N," for good measure.

"It's a pet name, Pet," Sir James gives an awkward little smile, nodding in agreement. Farleigh met your gaze for a moment, and you could see only the bread was keeping his laughter from spilling out. Beside you, Felix relaxes, and finally you look at him. Dark, serious eyes, with something grateful shining faintly in the morning sun.

Of course you let him throw Venetia's collar gift in the fire in front of her, despite her protests.

You get used to the sweet way the Cattons refer to you as Pet; as much as Felix despised it's connotations when it came from his sister, there was something comforting, something almost secure about the way the whole family had picked it up so easily.

"Was wondering where I'd find you," Farleigh's voice is warm while you're raiding the expansive kitchen for some kind of easy midnight snack. You could have asked one of the many staff members who reside on the property, but you hadn't wanted to bother them over probably some crisps.

"Farleigh!" You light up upon hearing his voice, turning, refrigerator door still open in your hand. He approaches, and you close the refrigerator, hugging him tightly, "oh this is great, it's been so long since it's been just us!"

"Darling pet," he says with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"You should come to Oxford, Fi and I miss you terribly," you tell him, leaning into his touch with a sincere smile as he holds your face gently, while you still hold him is a loose embrace.

"I've already been accepted into another college; you'll be fine without me," and he grins, kissing you on the nose, pressing a kiss to each cheek, "pet." He adds, almost to himself, and your face falls as you think about what he'd said.

"Everything's better with you," you insist, "and you'd love it; we could party like we did that Summer in France, but every weekend -!" Farleigh cuts you off with his lips against yours; you can taste the sweet smile he's wearing before he deepens the kiss.

Later, in Farleigh's bed, bathed in moonlight and the afterglow, you light up a cigarette and open his window.

"Fucking freezing," Farleigh mutters.

"Sorry," but you don't close the window. Silence stretches out between you both. You hope Farleigh enjoyed himself, hope he's happy -

"You don't need them," he says quietly, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, you breathe out a lungful of smoke and turn to him with a frown, "this family; we all know where you're from. You don't need them." There's something strange about his tone, clearing his throat when he finally looks at you, "but you still want them to love you."

"They're good to me," you finally say, dropping your gaze as you reach back to offer the cigarette, "to us," you tell him, and he hums with the smoke in his lungs. Then, taking back the cigarette, you inhale the sour-sweet smoke and tap off the ash off the window sill.

"I'm not their fucking dog, Farleigh," you mumble, surprising frustration escaping you, anger you hadn't even realised you were holding on to.

"I know, pet," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, "you'll let them think they have you kept, but you're not their dog, I know."

"I like you, Farleigh," you say with a faint smile, leaning back to see the way he's grinning too, "and I love you a bit as well I think."

"I know, I love you too, Y/N."

"We miss you a lot." There's something about the quiet that follows your words that you know all too well; Farleigh's about to tease you for something. Probably Felix related.

As if on cue;

"Does he know you like being his dog?" Grin widening, Farleigh gives you a slight shove, though the truth of his words has you hiding your own embarrassed smile.

"He thinks it's an insult to me, which is sweet of him," you chuckled, and Farleigh eases the cigarette from your fingers, "but it's like he has no idea the effect he's had on me for over a decade now. Yeah, I'm my own person, I have hobbies and friends outside of him, but -"

"You're a service bottom and desperately in love," Farleigh cuts in with a surprisingly sage tone, nodding like he hadn't absolutely called you out. Shocked with his vulgar kind of accuracy, you practically shove him out of the bed, laughing that he needs to fuck off, and the discussion is left at that.

The next morning, sitting down to breakfast, Duncan quietly informs Sir James that there had been a disturbance during the night. Immediately you throw Farleigh under the bus and declare that it's his fault.

"Hey!" He shouts back, grinning, "it takes two to fuck in the kitchen!" Which has all four of you, Venetia, Felix, Farleigh, and yourself, cracking up with laughter as Elspeth and Sir James were exasperated by your collective antics.

There is so much affection in Felix's eyes in this moment, this simple, strange moment of admitted sexual deviance. Except it's never felt like that to either of you. It's one of the ways you've both shown love, and he loves that you love those closest to him.

And you love to make him happy.

Farleigh was right, not that you'd ever tell him.

#felix catton imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start imagine #farleigh imagine #farleigh start x you #farleigh x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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boyfiejay · 3 months

Text

Enhypen : Telling them a story but it doesnt make sense

PAIRING : OT7 x gn! Reader

GENRE : established relationship, fluff, crack

Warning : curse words

Author's note : this is requested, why do i get the motivation to write in library? Of all the places, the place where im supposed to study...

Heeseung

●'Babe you know the other day i went to walk my fish but the baby started to bark and i realised that it was the wrong day!'

●Looks you dead in the eye

●Just stares at you even after you finish talking

●'I cant tell if im sleep deprived or you arent making any sense'

●Would take him him 1 2 3 4000 business days to understand it was a prank

●You woukd just tell him to go sleep lmao

Jay

●'So I was planting the book and the turtle drowned so i put the heater in the frigde.'

●Bro just freezes trying to understand what you're saying

●'Excuse me?'

●Just confusion on his face and youre laughing your ass off

●Also would not understand how that prank works but it worked on him so...

●Would make fun of you 100% 😭

Jake

●'So tell me why when the cat was barking and my ears went blind so i put the curtains in the dishwasher.'

●Baby is so confused, like he has imaginary question marks floating around his head

●'What do you mean baby?'

●Trying so hard to not seem rude incase hes the one who doesnt understand you :(((

●Breaths out a sigh of relief when he realises it was a prank

●But then lowk gets mad that he was tricked lol 😭

Sunghoon

●'Hey, remember when me and my grandma went to mop the ocean and the cat had puppies so i blow dried the air?'

●Already knows its some kind of prank but hes still confused

●'What the fuck?'

●Cue your hysteric laughing because why does he look cute with that confused expression???

●Impressed by your randomness lowk but will not say it

●Will get back at you for this💯

Sunoo

●'You remember when i couldnt hear in my nose and i woke up and the dog laid eggs?'

●Is concerned for you more than hes confused

●'Are you okay, baby?'

●You cant even laugh at him he genuinely looks worried

●You tell him its a joke and he gives you the nastiest side eye

●But then laughs at how random that sentence was

Jungwon

●'Tell me why, when i was walking my penguin and i lost my toes so i watered the fish.'

●He is the most confused by far but also judging you at the same time

●'Baby, what the heck? What penguin?'

●Hes concerned about penguins more than your mental state and toes😐

●Starts laughing when you tell him its a prank

●'Stop watching those tiktoks.'

Ni-ki

●'Remember when the snail barked and my leg cut off because i had a headache so i preheat the ice.'

●Just stares at you with 🤨 face

●Is judging you so hard it makes you want to take back your words

●'Whats that supposed to mean, baby?'

●Can NAWT understand why people make pranks like this

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forevermore-quoth-the-kitten · 2 years

Text

MC Using Their 'Scary Dog Privledge'

MC gets into trouble and can't really handle it themselves, or doesn't want to, so they call up some help, yelling "fuck you, i'm calling my scary dog privledge!" at the other demon before realizing that their phone was already picked up.

Lucifer

He's surprised when he sees you calling him but picks up right away

the first thing he hears is your voice yelling at someone else "-ck you I'm calling my scary dog privilege!"

while he'd normally furious to be reffered to as a dog, he's well aware of the phrase and it's meaning

is extremely amused when you realize he's picked up and smirks when you ask how much he heard

"do you need your 'scary dog privilege' to come get you?" he'll ask, listening as you get very embarassed but whoever is on the other size pisses you off and you quickly rattle off your location before hanging up.

he is worried though if you're calling him for help and hurries over.

Mammon

Mammon always picks up when you call, you're his human!

he is surprised though to pick up and hear you yelling "-I'm calling my scary dog privilege!"

turns bright red and freezes wherever he's standing until he hears your voice asking him if he's there.

"where are ya, the great mammon will take care of it!"

oh no, he heard you didn't he? yes, yes he did, he confirms with a grin. but don't worry, you're his human so he'll make sure no one bothers ya!

he's at your location before you can even hang up on him after rattling it off.

mans is fast but he's worried about you, so he's doublely fast to make sure nothing happens to you.

Leviathan

you're calling him? you never call him when he's in the middle of a live game, what are you thinking-

"fuck you, I'm calling my scary dog privilege!" your voice carries over from your end, and he blue screens. Scary dog privilege? who- WAIT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT HIM?!

yes! . . . oh, he said that out loud. Baby is nervous but asks where you are and knows how to get to you fastest right away. asks you to stay on the phone as he rushes to where you are.

as he runs over Levi does a mental 180 from how he usually is and pulls up in his demon form and acting angry, but confident and firm.

this isn't Levi, he knows that's not the version of himself with scary dog privileges. That's the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy and whoever made you call him done fucked up.

Satan

hasn't even looked away from his book, just picks up his DDD to answer it.

hears "-you, I'm calling my scary dog privilege!" and whips his gaze to his phone.

smirks and listens to you realize he'd heard you.

"im a bit offended you compared me to a dog." decides to tease you even though he's already getting up and heading out of the house becuas you obviously need him.

you'll make it up to him but please come help.

he can hear the flush of your cheeks in your voice but would rather see it in person.

he'll be there in a minute, so where are you?

Asmodeus

oh! you're calling, he was about to call you so you could do your nails- "-calling my scary dog privilege!"

. . . excuse you? 'scary dog privilege'? oh darling no, that's insulting!

obviously he'll come help you but please don't call him that, he's far too pretty and such things to be your 'scary dog privilege'.

but luckily for you, you're one of the only people who can resist his charms, so he'll make sure whoever is bothering you makes such a fool of themselves they'll ruin their reputation forever and won't ever bother you again.

. . . what do you mean that's why he's your scary dog privilege?!

Beelzebub

Beel is still cheweing when he picks up your call, but thankfully his DDD was already in his hand.

"-uck you, I'm calling my scary dog privilege!" is the first thing he hears and it nearly makes him choke on his food.

he doesn't spend a lot of time online and stuff, but he knows exactly what that phrase means and is concerned.

why are you calling him and claling him that? are you ok? is something wrong?

really doesn't care much about you calling him that and is more worried about why you're calling him at all for help.

no longer hungry, he drops his food and gets your location, running over right away. he can come back and finish his meal later, and he'll bring you with him once he makes sure you're ok.

scary dog privilege, he realizes, is a title he'll wear proudly if it means that you'll call him when you're in trouble.

Belphie

who the fuck is calling hima nd waking him up- "-m calling my scary dog privilege!"

no longer pissed and much more awake as he sits up, a grin splitting his lips.

scary dog privilege, huh? oh do tell him more. loves to hear you panic a bit that he heard you calling him that but worry pulls him to full awakeness when he hears someone else yelling at you.

"where are you?" dead serious, aready out of bed and pissed someone would ever lay hands on what belongs to him and ready to cut a bitch before putting them to sleep.

indefinitely.

. . . "what do you mean I can't kill them? you're my human, and you're calling me for help, which means I'll help in my way."

argues with you on murder the entire way to your location.

Diavolo

Diaovlo loves getting calls from you! Barbatos almost took his phone when he reached for it but you were calling so he's deal with the consequences of ignoring his work later.

"-uck you, I'm calling my scary dog privilege!"

. . . . barbatos that wasn't in Youthful Fun 101, what does that mean? . . .oh- OH SHIT

are you ok?! he's very worried and does not care if you sound embarassed. you're strong in your own right so something must be wrong is you're calling for help.

is at your location right away with a quick teleport, looks entirely focused on you and making sure your safe but inwardly is furious.

you never see any of those demons again

Barbatos

Barbatos is a busy demon, he often gets short little phone calls from you when you want to show him something or tell him about something you see or read. he loves those, so he knows you're the one who called right away by your unique ring tone and picks up.

freezes with his knife poised in the middle of his chopping when he hears your voice yelling "-calling my scary dog privilege!"

mc, where are you? . . . hmm? no, why would you think he's angry, he's concerned for you. you did call him for help, right?

yeah, you did, but did he-?

"did I hear you refer to me as your 'scary dog privilege'? yes, but don't worry, I don't mind. now, your location please?"

he's there right away with a quick teleport after obtaining it and it quick to dispatch the demons harassing you enough that you felt the need to call him. hardly spends any time on them at all, looking you over for any injuries.

takes you back to the castle and brews you some tea and gives you a few snacks, setting you up in the kitchen so he can keep an eye on you.

keeping you away from the halls where the angry Little D's drag the demon's bloody not-quite-corpses to his dungeons for punishment.

Simeon

Simeon and you mostly text, he's not the most technologically capable being so its easier to stick with what he knows. but simple phone calls are easy and he picks up yours right away.

"-I'm calling my scary dog privilege!" are the first words he hears from your end and he drops his pen.

scary dog privilege? what in the world- you're too embarassed to tell him so he calls out to Solomon, concerned, to ask. at the answer he's 3 times as concerned and is asking where you are.

you tell him but are more embarassed by the fact he heard you call him that.

"I don't mind litte lamb, i'm honored that you feel i'm that strong to reffer to me like that." he's being completely honest and rushes to be by your side.

demons can't stand up to holy light, especially not demons like those.

he doesn't pay much attention to them after blinding them, making sure his lamb is ok before quickly urging you to come back to purgatory hall for the time being.

their punishments aren't his to dole out, but Simeon is not above exaggerating slightly to worsen their punishment when informing Diavolo of what had happened.

Solomon

not paying attention and answers his phone on speaker, consentrated on his current potion.

"-uck you, I'm calling my scary dog privilege!"

oh? MC? oh my, do tell him more? what did he do to earn such a prestigious title?

will tease you until you're blind from embarassment about calling him that but is already using a tracking spell to find you.

don't worry, he'll keep you safe.

but he'll also scare the absolute shit out of you when he suddenly shows up behind you before you can ever tell him where you are.

scoops you up with the intention of distracting you from those demons and what they did, more than happy to lend a helping hand.

but no, he won't forgot you called him that, fully intends on making you promise to always call him when you're in danger.

Luke + Little D's

you're their scary dog privilege

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #lucifer obey me #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me x mc #obey me crack

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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Never Before

[Waiting For A Lifetime II] Part 1 2 3 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader + Aemond Targaryen x Reader (im sorry i couldn't help myself T_T)

Summary: Never before had Daemon, prince of Valyria, been so sure of anything in his entire life.

Word Count: 7k+ 💀💀💀

Warnings: Fem!reader, Modern AU, i have slight pov shifts kinda i hope its not confusing, probably poorly translated high valyrian, sibling quarrels T_T, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hello im 6000% invested in this that i made a moodboard MY MODERN!DAEMON NONNIE I HOPE YOURE READING THIS I HAVE A MADE A PART 2 ENJOY MY LOVE i hope you enjoy it T_T come back to my inbox and tell me what you think pls T_T i beg. this btw is a p2 and you 100% need to read the first chapter to appreciate this i think lol "Waiting For A Lifetime" (but to be fair, i doubt you need to read it to get what's happening though) ps the valyrian wedding vows are from reddit Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony also everyone who commented and messaged me about it my fic @pearlstiare @llovinjoonie @sabrina6272827 @ayamenimthiriel @comicsol1999 @fictionalcomforts @mirandastuckinthe80s @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @panagiasikelia

"Viserys!" Daemon shouted as he galloped loudly down the halls. He paid no mind to the staff greeting him good morning as he called out for his brother. No one minds. They are far too used to him. His hair jostles with his movement, yet he barely heaves as he runs. He is far too used to this.

Daemon changes the name he calls as he practically jumps down the stairs with how much excitement was in his bones, "Aemma!"

He huffs as his tousled, silver blonde hair flies over his face as he makes it downstairs.

The prince nearly collides with a servant who just exited a room he passed. He braces her, grunts as he pushes past. She squeaks and quickly mutters an apology that is quickly ignored.

Daemon runs down the hall, making a quick turn when he reaches a corner.

Had it been anyone other than the Wild Child himself, it would have been a concerning sight to see a man running frantically so early in the morn. However, Daemon had done worse, far worse in his youth especially. It was best to rather just get out of his way, lest he accidentally injure you in an unfortunate collision.

Daemon busts into the dining room with a dramatic bang, fitting of his innate dramatics. Finally, he was out of breath and catches it as as his brother and sister-in-law cooed at their newborn babe.

He huffs, walking over to the joyous family, absolutely illuminated by the sound of the young heir's laughter and seemingly indifferent to his entrance.

Daemon releases a sigh at the sight of them.

The little girl squeals in excitement as her mother rattles her toy over her face.

Viserys finally turns to his younger brother, "oh. You're awake."

Daemon reaches him and slaps a hand on his back in regard, making a beeline for Aemma, who he promptly seals into a hug and kisses her cheek.

"Off, you cunt," Viserys points loudly but emptily, making his wife snort.

Daemon smirks at the reaction to his theatrics, glad to finally have attention, smile widening as he takes his turn to coo to his babe, "Rhae-Rhae!"

Viserys rolls his eyes, "Rhaenyra."

Aemma gives her husband a look, swatting a hand at him, "I think it's a cute pet name, lovie."

"Aemma," the man sat by the side of Rhaenyra's high chair shifts on his seat, "Ray-ray was the name of his dog when we were kids."

"But you're much cuter than him, innit?" Daemon says as he reaches out to Rhaenyra, "you're so much cuter than my widdle pitbull was."

Aemma breaks into a fit of giggles upon learning the dog's breed. From the spot where she stood to the right of Rhaenyra's high chair, she threw her head back, her long platinum blonde hair cascaded down her shoulder. She thinks it's fitting that the prince cared for a pitbull; the most misunderstood breed of canines, she thinks.

Viserys watches as Daemon takes his daughter, "she's not going to let you hold her."

Daemon ignores him and beams when the child is successfully in his arms.

Victorious.

That is up until she broke into a loud fit of tears.

"Aww, shh, shh," Aemma coos at her daughter, "it's uncle Daemon! Uncle Daemon."

"Yes, uncle demon," the child's father states, "who will not hesitate to steal your candy the minute he can."

"Viserys," Aemma warns.

The said man raises his arms, "I won't let him, lovie."

Daemon turns to Aemma with worry written on his face and moves to bring the baby for her to take. When he turns to his brother, Viserys has a shitfaced I-told-you-so look written all over him.

Daemon decides to ignore it, not even sparing an eye roll that was itching in his skull. Aemma takes Rhaenyra and hushes her in her arms. The effect is instant. Daemon looks on blankly yet in awe. Viserys catches the way his brother sighs in what he could only describe as delight. The former walks over to Viserys, circling behind him to pull the seat to his side and hunch over with intent.

Viserys shoots him a look. And here he thought his brother wanted merely to have breakfast. He should have known, "what do you want?"

These words alert Aemma, who turns from her spot as she continues to rock the already pacified baby in her arms.

"I want mother's ring."

Aemma gasps, eyes widening, jaw slacking.

Viserys pulls his head back, screws his eyes shut, then shakes his head in disbelief. He opens his eyes as he says, "you want what?"

"The red one," Daemon points, "you know. I always thought the emerald cut suited mummy's finger."

Aemma beams, "oh my gods, Daemon!"

"Wait," the king raises his hands, "wait, wait-" he turns to his excited wife, "wait," he eyes Daemon, "why you asking for the ruby ring?"

"I just said that-"

"Don't fuck with me."

Daemon straightens up at the sound of the king's hiss. He then snorts, unable to mask his amusement over his older brother's annoyance. He leans on the table and then grabs a piece of some of the sliced fruit. He chews the sweet melon and grape in his mouth, lips curving into a small smirk, "I'm going to get married."

Aemma cannot contain the squeal that slips out of her mouth, "DAEMON!"

"Fuck off," Viserys mutters, leaning back on his chair, "don't mess with me, you nitwit. I will have your arse if you-"

"No, I'm serious," he places a hand on his brother's shoulder, "I have met..." Daemon exhales, shaking his head. He holds his tongue, trying to think of the right words to say. Aemma and Viserys both are stunned by this, the latter most especially. The prince purses his lips then utters, "the most enchanting woman and..."

Aemma whimpers, hand coming up to her lips, tears glassing her eyes.

Viserys shifts in his seat to turn to his brother.

"I..." Daemon shakes his head, turning away from his brother in thought. He knits his brows as he chuckles to himself. He retreats his hand, "I have no idea how, or why, but I just know," he turns to Aemma, "she's the one."

Aemma bursts into tears upon hearing the admission. She hands her daughter to her husband then heads off to Daemon to seal him into a tight embrace. Daemon laughs as he stands and meets his sister-in-law halfway, cooing at her as they hug affectionately. He rubs her back, and kisses the top of her head, "aww, my sweet girl, we do not deserve you."

The king is too stunned to do anything but hold his heir.

The embrace lasts a good ten seconds.

"Gods, Dae," Aemma whimpers, "I'm so happy for you."

Viserys is frozen in his spot as he holds Rhaenyra. He looks out to door and calls, "someone! Someone come and bring a maester! My brother is terribly ill! He's in fucking love!"

Aemma and Daemon pull away from each other, chuckling as they did. The former swats Viserys and the latter waves at Rhaenyra, who was looking up at her papa, then idly turned to her uncle.

The king sighs before he turns up to his brother, "well, tell me about her. I would damned die trying to wrap my head around what kind of woman got you so worked up like this."

Aemma watches as Daemon's face lights up. It warmed her heart so dearly to see his good-brother like this.

"I cannot put it into words, Vis, but the moment I saw her," Daemon waves his hands around, "I- it was like... the wind was knocked out of my lungs."

"Gods. The Mother. The Stranger. The Smith," Viserys whimpers, standing from his chair, placing his daughter on the highchair. He pats her bald baby head, "lest I hurl on you, my love."

Aemma is sill very much sobbing. She clutches Daemon's bicep, "so?! When did you meet her?! What's her name? What does she do? What does she look like?! Do you have a photo of her? Show me a photo of her right now!"

Daemon chuckles at her rapid fire questions and grabs her cheek, leaning his forehead onto her. When he pulls away, he places his cherished possession into her hand. Daemon pushes past her and Aemma looks at the small white card with much intrigue.

Daemon feels a tingle run down his spine as he hears Aemma read the name out loud. He steps in front of his brother as his sister-in-law chimes, "she works at a museum and is a professor part time," the woman turns to her husband, "she's an intellectual, Viserys!"

"I'm going to need that ring, brother," Daemon declared.

Viserys turns to Daemon, eyes narrowed in both scrutiny and annoyance by his telltale spoiled attitude, "I can't just get mum's ring. It's in the vault with-"

"It's not in the vault," Daemon asserts, "Rhaenys borrowed it for the recent gala and it's still in the storage chamber here. I was the one that signed off the insurance papers for it to be shipped tomorrow. It's Not. In The Vault."

Viserys sighs and rolls his eyes, "oh, very well, let's get it both."

"I am more than capable of getting it my-"

"No!" Viserys raises a finger in respite, "the last time you were in the storage chamber, you nearly cost both of us our heads with the tragedy you laid upon grandpa's antique pottery."

Daemon takes his turn to rolls his eyes just as Viserys begins to walk off, "I was nigh but 13, you dunce!"

The elder snaps a glare at the younger, "I'm astonished you've convinced yourself that you found any semblance of maturity past that age, demon."

Daemon rolls his eyes again. Aemma calls out, "wait," grabbing her daughter, "we're coming with you." She jogs up to her brother-in-law and hands him back the card. Daemon places it in his pocket, "thank you, my love."

"Lovie," Viserys calls out, "just enjoy your breakfast, we shan't be long," he places his hands on his wife's shoulders.

"Oh, breakfast can wait, this is far more exciting, lovie," Aemma grins.

Viserys is weakened by her and sighs. He presses a kiss on her forehead, "fine. Do you want me to carry Rhaenyra?"

"I've got it, baby," she smiles, leaning into him.

Daemon watches them as they walk off. His stomach is in knots, thinking about how badly he wants that to happen with him and his love this very instant.

Daemon didn't need help to find the ancestral ring. The moment they walked in the chamber, he made a beeline for the object with not a second thought.

He takes the box and opens it, heart leaping into his mouth as he grins from ear to ear. He closes it with a thud and raises it in his hand with an expression of a boy opening gifts in Christmas morn, "I've got it."

Aemma giggles, rocking her baby with excitement, "look, Rhaenyra, uncle Daemon's got a ring."

Rhaenyra looks out inquisitively as her uncle walks over.

Uncle tries, getting on one knee, opening the box, "will you marry me, Rhaenyra?"

Viserys instantly kicks him down, "oh, fuck off, you incipit twat!"

Aemma giggles, as does the struck Daemon, felled on the floor with not a hint of offence.

When he stands, he lunges towards his brother, sealing him into a tight embrace, "you've made me a happy man, Viserys."

Viserys finds it tempting to fight him off and curse his bones, but he had not seen Daemon so sincerely excited and bright in a long while, and so he wraps his arms around him and leans into his touch, patting his back firmly, "alright, you bugger. Now let me see that card this time."

Daemon pulls away with a grin, pulling out the card for the king.

"Oh, let me see a photo of her!" Aemma shakes her hand out.

"I've not had the chance to photograph her," Daemon shakes his head, "don't worry though, I'll bring her home soon enough."

Aemma grins, hugging her daughter tightly. She coos at Rhaenyra and raises her small, soft arm up at Daemon, muttering as though it was the child, herself, speaking,, "and just how soon is soon, uncle?"

Daemon smiles at his niece, "why, this very moment, Rhae-Rhae," he leans in to gently pinch her rosy cheek. He then pulls away to swipe at his wrist, uncovering the watch beneath his dress shirt, "I'm calling her at 11:55."

"EEEK!" Aemma cheers, "Hear that, Rhaenyra? You're going to have an aunt!"

"Damn, Daemon," Viserys lifts his eyes up to his brother, "when did you meet her again.?

Daemon turns to his brother, shoving the box in his pocket. He got what he wanted; there was no need to mask anything. "Last night," he noted, reaching out to retrieve the card from him.

"I'm sorry," Viserys pulls the card away, preventing it from being snatched, "what?"

The prince sniffles, pressing his lips casually together, "I met her at the Blue Ginger last night."

Aemma's face falls into a inwardly concerned and shocked look.

"Give me the-"

Viserys steps back, pulling his arm farther back, "and there it is. There it is!" His neck strains at the intensity of his speech. He scowls at his brother angrily, making Daemon's jovial expression dim into a similar shade.

"So, what?!" Viserys shakes his head, lips curving into annoyance and disgust. "What? You fucked her then-"

"DON'T," Daemon points a finger, "FUCKING talk about her like that!" he seethed, stepping forward, bunching Viserys' shirt.

"Daemon!" Aemma calls out in concern.

Viserys scoffs, eye twitching in anger. He doesn't care that Daemon is staring at him with darkness, ruining his shirt in his fists. He rips the card in his hand into pieces. Daemon releases his brother in shock, face falling, jaw clenching.

"Viserys!" Aemma calls in shock, the same time Daemon barks, "you FUCKER!"

"Give me the ring, Daemon," Viserys commands, snorting, stiff as though he declared war, "I will not allow you to follow through with your frantic idiocy."

"I love her!" Daemon growls, teeth grit in fury.

"You want her!" Viserys corrects, stepping closer, "you've no idea what love is, boy! You want her like you wanted to be king then not!"

Daemon heaves at his brother's chastises.

"You met her yesterday! That is not love!" Viserys snarls, "it is nothing but love sprung from the head of your haughty cock!"

"Viserys!" Aemma cries.

"It is lust, Daemon!" the king proclaimed. He steps back, turning to the torn pieces of paper on the floor. He kicks it, but it barely does anything in affect, "you will not follow through with this madness!"

"You think I've not saved her number, dipshit?" Daemon shudders in anger. He grips the velvet box tightly in his pocket, feeling his body vibrate in hatred, scorn... hurt.

Viserys nearly drops his expression when he sees the glassiness of the prince's eyes.

Aemma's lips part, "Daemon."

"You told me you knew from the moment you saw her," Daemon points to Aemma accusingly before weakly dropping his arm, "that she was for you."

"Daemon," Viserys sounds defeated, "Aemma and I got to know each other for years before getting married," he whispers.

"And I will continue to know her for the rest of my life!" Daemon exclaims.

"Daemon," Viserys and Aemma call at the same time. The latter walks forward, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder, which is sequentially shrugged off. It hurts the queen, but she was kind enough not to push him further. The former sighs, raising his hands questioningly, "no matter how visceral it felt, no matter how drawn you were to meet her," the elder Targaryen states carefully, "you cannot be sure of-"

"I HAVE NEVER BEEN-" Daemon wails, desperate like a cat surrounded by water. His voice nearly breaks when he continues, "more sure of anything EVER-" he heaves, annoyed by the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. He shudders sharply, "not since the day mother died."

The tone in the room shifts drastically.

Daemon looks at his brother with pleading eyes as he recounts the memory, "I told you she... I told you she was dead that night, I told you I felt it in my bones, and you told me not to worry," tears finally streak down his cheeks, "we both woke up to father's ghost of a face."

Viserys remembers the day well. He remembers how adamant and frantic his little brother was that night. He had done his best to pacify him. Yet that morning it was he that was pacified by Daemon.

The king does a good job concealing his perceived weakness to his brother, he holds back tears he was to cry out, as the boy continues to plead his case.

"What's the point of waiting years, delaying something I am certain I desire now?"

"Daemon," Viserys says, almost helplessly, "you are a prince. You cannot marry on a whim and leave-"

"I will not LEAVE her!" Daemon erupts. He cannot take it anymore. He begins to fume, chest rising and falling quickly, "there was once a time when a prince was allowed to execute his wishes-"

"AND I AM THE KING!" Viserys bangs on his chest as he screams. He begins to heave just like his sibling, face succumbed to disdain. He raises his hand up to him, "give me the ring, Daemon."

Aemma feels her heart hurt at the sight of them. She feels her heart hurt especially because Daemon's face was wholly sullen, a complete contrast to what it was a while ago.

Daemon's face is blank. His defenses were up. Whatever brightness in hin was now gone.

"Is that a command, my king?" the second born utters under his breath.

The king thinks. He is tempted to say it, to do what he promised his baby brother he never would, exert his sovereignty over him. His chest constricts, his brows knit, his eyes begin to water. He cannot do that to him.

"It is a plea from your older brother, Daemon."

Daemon rolls his shoulders back. He holds back the quiver of his lips, "why should I listen to my hateful brother's plea when he did not listen to mine?"

"Daemon," Aemma calls, herself now overcome with emotion.

The said man walks away, pushing past them.

Viserys heaves. He watches his brother turn his back on him. He begins to flare with abhorrence and offence, "DAEMON!"

The prince does not listen as he walks away, storming out the storage chamber, slamming the doors on his way out. He mutters strings of High Valyrian curses as he roughly wipes his face on his sleeve.

Daemon soothes himself by remembering that Viserys was a rat, a gremlin, unadulterated rubbish, his absolute nemesis since time immemorial. He was difficult and cruel and irritating and selfish. He loathed him.

His eye twitches, his walking slows. Cunt. He hates himself for caring so much about him. Fuck him.

When Daemon gets to the garage, he wills the memory of choosing and purchasing the silver Benz with his rat brother in the very hell depths of his mind. He leans on the hood, his blonde hair falls on his face.

He'll turn around.

He snorts, wiping his philtrum.

He always turns around... he has to.

He pulls out his phone, blinking away the tears. He cusses when he sees that it was 10 am. There was no way he would get to the other side of town in time.

He gets in his car and drives off. He merely pulls over a few minutes before 11:55 to make good his promise.

Meanwhile hours before this incident, on the other side of the town, there was a heart as sulking just the same.

I had not gotten a lick of sleep in anticipation of this moment. I was hunched over on my desk, watching my screen, heart jumping every time the clock blinked with a new number.

"I got the One Eye comment again," a voice huffs as he walks into the office room, "people think they're so smart and original," his voice rises when he continues, "you told me I didn't look ridiculous with this on."

I straighten from where I stood, bent over, then turn to my side, catching the light haired intern, rip off his eye patch and slam it onto his desk. He roughly dusts off his jumper and pants for no reason other than annoyance.

I raise my brows at him and pout, "someone as handsome as you cannot ever look ridiculous, Aemond," I slump back down on my desk. I mutter, half-muffled, "it runs in the family."

Aemond rolls his eye, regretting it with the damned sty in the left one throbbed with pain. He huffs turning to me, pointing a finger, "you need to stop calling my damned brother pretty boy. He's starting to believe it."

I snort as my lips spread into a smile, "that's good; he is."

Aemond walks over to me, sardonic as ever, "historians aren't supposed to distort the truth, professor."

I stand, looking at his angular face, taking in his how the strands of his shoulder length hair, tied in a small bun, framed his sharp cheeks and jaw, how his pouty lips were curved into that of disdain. He was adorable, just like he was as a child when I met him perchance.

"Don't you teach me, kid," I narrow my eyes and purse my lips, "you're one failed review away from repeating the whole term."

Aemond is unfazed as he crosses his arms, "mmm, another term with a certainty to be had under your wing sounds delightful."

I roll my eyes, "Aemond."

Said Aemond's lips curl into a soft smile, enjoying the fact my words backfired on itself.

"We've been through this, my dear," I place my hands on his toned shoulders, "you're nervous about nothing. There's not a reason for you not to get hired here after you've graduated."

He hums again, relaxing against my touch, "and what of the failing mark my beloved teacher threatens to lay upon me?"

I huff as I pull away from him, drawing back my desk chair and plopping down, "you know I don't work like that, pretty boy."

Aemond clenches his jaw, "don't call me that."

I turn to him, resting my elbows on my desk, "why not? I think you're pretty too."

He turns away, thinking about his sty, thinking about how his breath hitched when he first met his beloved teacher, thinking about his brother, Aegon, made you laugh where he made things awkward in your first meeting, "that's the oaf's nickname. I do not want it."

I follow him with my eyes as he storms off, grabbing his eye patch, putting it back on. He then walks back behind me to finish labeling the books stacked there.

"Is it so bad to share a nickname with your brother?" I ask.

"Yes," he quickly blurts. Aemond doesn't waste another moment and grabs a book a lot rougher than normal.

I turn away from him, dejected by his ire. I grab my phone, seeing the time was 11:49. I brace my arms in front of me and lean down, sighing.

I repeat this process over and over and over and over and-

Aemond, who had been witness to it, finally asks, "what are you sighing about?"

"I'm waiting for a call."

"Mmm," he shifts on his place and presses his hand on a book, "is it from the Maester's Association?"

"No."

"Septa's Guild?

"No."

Aemond raises a brow, "they what are you so restless about?"

I check the clock for the nth time, heart leaping when I see it's 11:53. I straighten in my seat and begin to fix my hair. I clear my throat and do some nonsensical sounds to warm up my voice.

Aemond forgets about his task altogether and turns to me. His brows knit and he leans on the table, "who exactly are you waiting to call you, professor?"

I breathe in deeply, checking the time again. 11:54. I cradle my phone in my hand as though it is my lifeline.

"The love of my life."

Aemond straightens up, stiffening and deflating all at once. His face tenses so tightly, the sty irritates him again. For a moment, he is overcome with a bitterness in his throat. He thinks of his brother again-- but that can't be.

He clenches his jaw and relaxes. He thinks about how loosely that term is used when uttered upon his beloved professor's lips. He relaxes completely, releasing a breath. He turns back to his books, calming himself with his breathing.

He wonders out loud, "Alicent?"

Aemond thinks his guess to be right. After all, his cousin, your many times over research partner, had been in Essos for weeks for a riveting symposium. He was perplexed why you hadn't expressed the same enthusiasm in going there, considering the fact there was a dragon skeleton recently unearthed there, apparently Caraxes' no less. He did not buy the fact you weren't interested in the dig site at least, knowing how you were obsessed with his rider, Daemon Targaryen I.

"No, not Ali," I mutter, shaking my head.

Aemond thinks of another one of his professor's research partners besides Alicent.

I mutter softly, "someone else... you don't know him."

Him?

"... well," I chuckle, "I suppose you do."

Aemond is now utterly confused.

My heart nearly stops when my phone clock strikes 11:55.

Aemond once again forgets about his work upon hearing the gasp. He awaits the sound of the phone ringing.

The seconds passing are dreadfully unbearable. I count each and every one of them. By the time I reach 34, I begin to feel bile rise up my throat.

Dear gods, he forgot about me. He forgot about me, and he's not going to call. How silly of him to even promise such a thing. He's probably caught up in doing his princely politicking. Hell, I wouldn't even remember-

I gasp again, dropping the phone when it began to vibrate and ring. I choke on my breath, my hands fumble, my shoulders tense, my mind is racing.

Aemond watches this intently, how the most poised and composed person in his life began to break down like a tower of unglued blocks. He watches as his professor stares blankly at the ringing phone.

"Answer it," he urges, stepping forward once.

His voice wasn't even loud nor demanding, yet I still start at it. I nod my head profusely then scramble for my phone. I quickly gain my wits and answer the call.

I press the screen against my ear, carefully calling, "hello?"

"Hello? Hello! Hi! Hi, my love!"

Daemon sound ecstatic, relieved. My jaw is parts into a smile. I am heaving heavily through my mouth as my stomach swirls and my chest tightens. I grip on my elbow, breathlessly replying, "hi."

"Hi! Hi. Right. I'm pulled over in the side of the highway-"

"What?" I jolt from my seat. Aemond jolts as well. "W-wh-why? Are you hurt? Did something happen? What highway are you on? Should I call-"

"Hush, love," he chuckles, "lykiri," he hushes, calm down in High Valyrain, and continues in the same tongue, "calm down. I am well," he breaks into a soft laugh, "oh, my dear, my darling, I only pulled over to make good on my promise to call you at 11:55."

I release a breath of relief. I relax my shoulders, nodding my head, muttering mostly to myself, "on the dot."

I can almost hear him smile from across the line, "yes, my sweet girl... though a few seconds passed," he chuckles, "I hope you do not fault me for it."

"Never," I lean my head into my hand, releasing shaky breath. My breathing is shallow and my eyes flutter close.

My sweet girl. It was been so long since I heard his voice utter these words. A dam of memories break open and my mind floods with memories of him calling me this; it's all very tender, like an open wound. Tears begin to strain in my eyes and my throat constricts with a tight band of emotion.

"Are you crying?" Aemond mutters lowly that even he doesn't hear it.

"I reckon I'll be there in about 10 minutes, give or take," Daemon sounds guilty when he says this, "I'm sorry to make you wait, my pretty girl, but you can wait a few more minutes for your prince, can't you?"

I shudder out his name, biting my lip tightly for a moment, trying to even out my breath so he doesn't catch the sound of my sobbing, "10 minutes is inconsequential to how long I have been waiting for you."

He takes a moment to respond. I hear him sigh, "I couldn't sleep last night thinking of you either."

"You're the only thing I've ever thought about," I whisper like a secret, afraid to wipe the tears on my cheeks away, in fear of smearing my makeup.

He laughs at the admission. It is smug and self-indulgent, but it is unlike the other times I've heard him laugh conceitedly. At its core, Daemon sounded relieved, he sounded touched.

"I am glad to hear it," he openly affirmed, "I will come to you soon. Nothing will keep us apart."

His words squeeze my heart, my very soul, my being. I mutter softly, "drive safe."

"I will, my love."

My breath hitches. I lick my lips in preparation, but then I stop myself. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say-

"I love you," I sigh.

A beat of silence passes.

Part of me feels foolish when I am met with only ambient noise. I don't regret saying it at all though. I punish my lower lip tightly with a bite that draws out blood, but then I release it in shock when he calls back.

"I love you," he says, "wait for me."

The call ends.

The moment I put my phone down, Aemond is upon me. He gently takes my arm and words my name out carefully. He doesn't say anything else. He seemed not to know what else he could.

I turn to the tall man, one eye covered, strands of silvery hair still haphazardly framing his face. He adjusts his hold on me when I reach out to his arms, gripping the fabric of his jumper, not so much him. He has his hands on both my arms and he looks down at me with concern, speaking my name once more.

I turn away from him, blinking rapidly as it all sinks in, "it's finally happening."

"What is?" Aemond asks, almost helplessly, quite unlike his usually certain demeanor.

I turn back to him, lifting my chin to meet his gaze, releasing my clutch on his top, jumping into him to seal him into a tight embrace. He is taken aback by my sudden haptics, but immediately hugs be back.

"I'm finally going to have him."

"Have," he coaxes slowly as he bends to offer me more stability on my feet, "him?" Aemond voice strains, "who are you talking about?"

"My love," I break away, blinking tears as I look back at Aemond. There is a line of worry on his face, but I could not bring myself to offer him but only a quick caress of his cheeks as comfort and reassurance. I pull away, fanning myself, "dear goodness, I have to get ready."

I dash to my desk, swiping my bag, immediately running toward the bathroom.

Aemond could do nothing but watch and rack his brain trying to make sense of it all. He is so perplexed by it that he thinks of calling his brother for answers. In his lack of better judgement, he dials the contact and his phone begins to ring.

Aegon on the other line barely croaks a tired hello and Aemond is already demanding answers, "you were with her at the Blue Ginger last night, correct?"

There is a moment of silence. There was no need for clarification for Aegon to understand what the seven hells his younger brother was on about.

Daemon arrives at the museum, in his black three piece, black trilby, and dark red shades. He adjusts his glasses. For once in his life is damned annoyed by his unmissably strong presence.

Immediately, this steward walks over to him, her eyes roving all over, brows raised in inquisition. He doesn't let her speak to him, a finger raise is enough to silence her. He states that he had business with a professor and asks where he could find her.

He wastes no more time than necessary, heading off to the direction he was given.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, paying no heed to the people who spot and gawk at him, wondering louder than they should about who exactly he was. He makes his way upstairs and goes down the hall as he was told.

His cool composure is completely destroyed when he sees the person standing at the end.

"Daemon," I mutter sparing not a second's thought as I run over to him, not caring that I was in heels, or in a dress, or even that my perfectly restyled hair was being ruined.

Tears begin to prick at my eyes all over again. After all my talk in front of the mirror not to ruin my redone makeup, I couldn't bring myself to care in this moment.

Daemon strides over to me, quickening into a jog as he removes his hat and sunglasses, sighing heavily as his lips curve into a smile. He outstretches his arms in anticipation.

Aemond, catching the quick blur from the window, stops what he is doing and runs outside.

Quickly, and all at once, I am upon him.

Our chests collide with a thud, our limbs wrap around each other tightly. We bury ourselves into each other's necks, basking in the affection, in the scent of each other, in the warmth.

I cannot help but sob onto him.

He instinctively hushes me, lifting me off my feet as he does, "hush, little one, I am here. I am here. Lykiri."

I pathetically sob into his collar, "I missed you so much."

Daemon tightens his grip on me. He mutters in High Valyrian, "I missed you like I've been waiting a thousand years."

I choke as I brush my nose against him, "2000."

When he tries to pull away, I nearly scream in protest, "please don't pull away! Please."

Daemon sighs and leans down, allowing me to stand on my feet. He was so familiar to me, so much so I recognized his impeding action. I felt him brush his hands down to my waist. I knew exactly what he was going to do. I jump when he bends to grab me, carrying me into his arms. I tightly wrap my legs around his waist and nuzzle against him. Daemon cradles my thighs and nuzzles all the same.

Aemond had seen enough from the end of the hall at this point. He regrets spending his free time doing errands as he waited for his professor. He keeps his gaze on the floor as he quickly makes his way down the hall to leave, somewhere far-- as far as his legs would take him. He is all but ignored as the heavily infatuated couple pass him.

"My office is the last one," I mutter against Daemon's neck, eyes closed, finger tips massaging his scalp.

I open my eyes to check if he got the right room. He did.

A part of me is concerned when I do not see my favorite apprentice. The thought quickly evaporates when I am propped on a desk and hungrily kissed.

I moan on instinct when our lips connect. I readily return his fervor just as hungrily. My heart is thundering in my ribcage as his large hands rub up and down my back. I pull him closer, tightening my legs around him, tugging at the roots of his hair. He moans. Gods I've missed that sound.

I pull away from him when his hands trail down my thighs, attempting to hike my skirt up.

"Daor, ñuha zaldrīzes," I mutter softly, placing my hands atop his.

No, my dragon.

Daemon pulls back and huffs heavily, the heat of his breath brings goosebumps on my skin. He looks down at me, violet eyes blown, lips stained with my lipstick, a predator, made tame only by the call of his mate.

He kneads at my flesh, leaning closer, brushing his nose against mine, "I promise you'll like it," he leans deeper between my legs, "I'll make it quick, so no one sees," he steals a kiss on my lips, "you were made for my eyes only."

I wrap my arms around his torso, leaning into his chest as I shake my head in disagreement, "Daor, ñuha zaldrīzes," I repeat in his mother tongue, continuing all the same, "I don't want to rush you. I want to savor you completely and recount every inch of you."

He curses in the same language, calling out my name like a prayer, He kisses me deeply.

Daemon pulls back to bring his lips on my cheek, my jaw, my neck, then the back of my hand. He rubs my knuckles as he takes me in. I bring one hand to his cheek, in utter disbelief that I had him here with me finally, that he was here, right in front of me.

My spirit leaves me when he gets on his knee and pulls out a box from his pocket.

"Daemon-"

"Never before have I ever felt such feelings for anything, for anyone," Daemon looks up at me with wide violet eyes as he slowly opens the box. I stare at the large emerald cut ruby. It was as red as blood, as clear as day.

He speaks my name, like he burned it into his tongue, like it is the most scared sound in the world, "gaomagon nyke se greatest rigle hen becoming ñuha ābrazȳrys."

My lips part and my chest inflates and deflates.

Do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife.

He didn't even ask.

In the intensity of it all, my quivering lips curve at his words. My nostrils flare in amusement.

How very Daemon of him.

I slide down to my feet and reach out to him. He takes my hand with a hopeful look. My hand lands back on his cheek. He moves to pull the ring out as he grabs the palm on his face. "No, Daemon," is all it takes for him to crumble before me. I push the jewel back in its place and close the box.

Daemon's brows furrow as he watches me pull the wheeled desk chair back and sit there before him.

The prince's eyes and cheeks are wet with tears. The sight is soul destroying.

He clenches his jaw as he places his hands on my thighs, shifting down on both his knees, "why not?" He asks this so helplessly that it strikes a chord in my heart because it sounded so much like his cries, at least the ones that I heard in my last moments before coming back to life, seeing he traded his breath for mine.

I grab his face, shaking my head as I lean towards him, "I am yours, Daemon.; before you were even born, I was yours. Nothing in this world, old or new, will ever change that."

"Then why would you," he heaves a moment to catch his breath, hanging his head low, "deny me this?"

"Daemon, look at me," I call, lifting his head up, "this magic between us," I speak carefully, "this will never change. My heart has broken a million times, but you have remained my beacon of light.

His face scrunches, he shakes his head. I can tell there is a veil of confusion covering his mind and yet he is trying to understand.

I cup his cheeks, "that may not have changed, but the world has. I do not wish to cause you strife where strife should not be welcome. The world is looking at you now, more than ever before."

He clenches his jaw, "I don't fucking care how many worlds watch me while I shit," his nostrils flare, "I want you, I need you, I l-"

He looks physically pained when he stops himself from continuing.

"Daemon," I uttered, "tell me, what did Viserys say about this?"

Daemon recoils. A shiver runs down his spine as his face hardens with betrayal. His hands grip my wrists tightly, "it nary matters what my brother thinks-- he doesn't think, he only tells me what to do."

"My love," I frown, "the king only acts the way he does in his care for you."

"You know NOTHING of my brother!" he snarls, face reddening in rage, shoving my hands off him, "do not come to me all sage about him."

I withdraw from him, straightening in my chair, sighing as I place my hands on my lap, "you can bare your teeth at me all you want, but your fangs are cannot pierce me. You are a toothless babe in my eyes."

Daemon's cheeks twitches. His breath struggles. He drops the box on the floor with little care. I internally cringe at the sound of it.

"Daemon," I huff, "I know you only want the approval of your brother," I add, lowering my head to him, "I know it hurt you when he forbade you to go through with your plan."

He looks away, tears steaking his cheeks. He levels his breathing. He releases his tension and sinks on his knees. He doesn't look at me when he pulls me close to him by my calves and drops his head on my thighs. I feel dampness pool on my clothes. I begin to comb through his blonde hair. He grabs at my skirt helplessly, "he thinks me a fool, the king... a puppet, desperately in need of a puppet master."

"You know that's not true," I respond in High Valyrian.

"How do you know!?" Daemon lifts his head, hands taking mine tightly. His voice is shrill, it's defensive and challenging. And yet he repeats the same words, "how do you know?" voice soft, wondering and desperate.

I rub his wrist with my thumbs, "it will take more than my lunch break for me to explain it."

Daemon straightens up, immediately concerned, "no. No, you cannot leave me. You cannot make me leave. I-"

"I'm not leaving you," I grasp him tightly, "and I will never make you leave," I continue in High Valyrian, "no one said anything about leaving."

Daemon clenches his jaw, he shifts his hands in mine, linking our fingers together. He desperately adds in his mother tongue, "I will die if you do not become my bride."

I cannot help the chuckle that leaves me when I hear his words. I tighten my grip on him, then feel a foreign object on his pinkie. I turn to his hand and see the iron ring on it. My breath hitches. It is the exact same ring he had before. What a marvel that it's intact after millennia.

I pull away my hands. Daemon starts, not liking the idea of losing contact. His settles slightly when gaze turns to where mine was and he sees me pull the ring off his finger.

"Hen lantoti ānogar, v sȳndroti vāedroma," I start, slipping the ancient piece of jewelry bearing his family's sigil on my ring finger, "mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr," I look up to him, "izulī ampā perzī,--"

"--prūmī lanti sēteksi, hen jenȳ māzīlarion," Daemon joins, expression perking, "qēlossa ozūndesi, sȳndroro ōñō jēdo," he brings his hands to my cheeks and leans his head against mine, "rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi."

Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass, the stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.

I gasp when Daemon's lips crashes into mine. His hands dart down to my hind, pulling me close to him, trapping his body between my legs once more.

We only break away in desperation for air.

"We are wed," I mutter, pressing another kiss upon his, "here and now I am your bride and you are my groom. We are wed. The gods are our witnesses." I brush my nose against his, closing my eyes, "the wedding can wait, but from now on you are mine."

"Mine," he repeats, lips curving upward, "my bride," Daemon brushes my hair back, "I would die if I ever witness your pretty finger naked of my ring." He takes my ring clad hand, kissing the skin at the back.

"Please," I shake my head, "stop with that talk," I mutter, brows furrowing, "I forbid you from doing anything that would ever lead you to death. I will not know what to do with myself if I lose you all-"

I am cut off when Daemon crushes me into a tight embrace. I relax against him, tightening my arms around him.

"You will not escape me," Daemon mutters, sinking his face in the crook of my neck, "you will never evade me. I will be your air, your ground, your thoughts, your dreams."

My stomach is in a flurry. My head is swimming in everything that is him.

"My love," he sighs, "my wife," he finishes his thoughts in High Valyrian, "there would be no world worth living if I do not have you."

I cannot help the tears that fall onto his neck. I kiss his skin and sigh in content, "I am so happy that you found me, my dragon."

"As am I," he hums, "and I will never lose you ever again."

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nightqueen1221 · 1 year

Note

hi!! can i ask for hanako, kou, tsukasa, nene, teru, and sakura reacting to y/n who bops their head like they're listening to music when they're happy? like there could be dead silence and then we have y/n bopping their head happily. and if its not too much to ask can it be a gn y/n? im so sorry for the long ask <//3 if u dont wanna take this request thats fine! love ur work :D! - 🐝

Hello my first emoji ayon! Apologies for this being late. This was also the only image I could find with all of them.

Hanako/Amane Yugi

-He finds it cute.

-Honestly, he really likes it since he can tease about it later.

-Every once in a while he'll float over to you and lift the headphones out or lightly tug on your earbuds to pull them out.

-"Whatchu listening to?" He asks.

-He's not really looking for answer, he just wants your attention.

-If you close your eyes while listening, he'll go in for a kiss just to see your surprised face.

-If you wear earbuds he'll ask if you can share.

-If you're ok with it, he gives comments about the music you listen to.

Nene Yashiro

-Honestly, she doesn't really judge you since she's just so happy she actully got a relationship, so when she sees you listening to music and bopping your head, she doesn't mind.

-She might every once in a while ask what song it is.

-If she knows the song she'll either talk about it or fawn over the band members/singer.

-You introduced her to a lot of diffrent types of music along with new bands and singers.

-Every once in a while she gets a sticky notes and writes songs she likes so you can listen to them. (Along with a few doodles in the corner.)

Kou Minamoto

-He's concerned.

-He thinks you're going to hit your head or something else since your not really paying attention to your surroundings.

-He usually has a hand wrapped around your waist just to make sure your safe.

-If you offer to listen to music with him, he'll accept. Perhaps you could dance together.

-I don't think he'd be a very good dancer so you might have to teach him if you know.

-If neither of you know, well you can just look like two idiots having fun.

-When you two dance im the school (if ever) Hanako is going to intervene. He'll probably trip Kou so he'll fall on you making him look like a pervert. And nobody else can see Hanako so they Kou is in the wrong.

-Hanako truly doesn't mean any harm by it, he's just trying to poke some fun.

-As long as you tell Kou he doesn't need to worry about you and you can handle your surroundings, he's a lot more comfortable.

Teru Minamoto

-Same thing with his brother, he worries you're going to get hurt and tries to avoid anything happening to you.

-He always had a ton of fangirls and the fact he choose means you matter to him more than you could imagine. (Same thing with his fans if you know what I mean.)

-He might even go as far as taking you things away if you don't listen to him.

-Don't worry, just give him puppy dog eyes and he'll give in faster than the speed of sound.

-Or cry, if you can cry on command good lord. He HATES to see a person he cares for in pain, so he'll do almost anything to make it stop.

-If you walk around while listening to music, he's right behind you with his hands on your shoulders to make sure you're safe. This does not change if your eyes are open.

-And if you do happen to have someone bump into you, are they going to have an earful from your boyfriend.

-So, just be careful around him and when you listen to music.

Sakura Nanamie

-It doesn't bother her in the slightest.

-She enjoys the stillness of sound, she's usually caught up with Tsukasa being loud, so just being in the same room as you, but not talking makes her enjoy these times together.

-She knows your not paying attention so she sometimes go up behind you and give a little kiss on your cheek. (Or on the lips depending on how far the relationship has gone.)

-When she wants your attention for either a question or because she simply wants affection, she'll lightly tap your shoulder or rub the back of your hand.

-She ALWAYS asks if you can give her attention beforehand, since she is very much aware of what it's like for someone to be forced into it.

-This also makes it very rare for her to ask for anything, but I'm getting off track.

-It's not a huge part of her life but she still thinks it kinda cute you do it

Tsukasa Yugi

-All he can think is, "Perfect opportunity".

-You're distracted AND can't hear him. He wants to prank or surprise you as much as possible. Having your attention on something else other than him (Which he is a bit offended by) Gives him the chance to shock you.

-At this point, it's not as surprising. The most shocking part is what he tries and do to gain your focus.

-He's given you things he's killed, which the offer is nice, the corpse is not.

-He'll incessantly bother you asking if he can listen to music with you.

-If you refuse, he'll do one of three things.

- 1. Continue to cry and complain

- 2. Take whatever you're listening to music on.

- 3. Get Sakura involved. Which ends up with your device getting confiscated.

-As fun as it is to mess with you, he gets super annoyed if you ignore him completely. And that leads to one of the items above.

-Just as long as you devote your time to mostly him, he's fine with whatever else you do.

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juyeonszn · 8 months

Text

REFLECTIONS

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.07k

GENRES smut lol

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, fawn writing about jacob bae yet again but i swear this time was necessary!!!, porn without plot but also if u squint there’s a little bit of plot, roommates/best friends with mutual pining, i mixed so many tropes in here tbh, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (pls be safe), mirror sex, soft? dom!jacob, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY the two times jacob bae derails your saturday night plans.

MORE FAWNTOBER DAY 2 IS A GOOOOO 😈 i’m actually doing pretty well timing wise and as far as im concerned, i’ll actually pull this thing off 😭 anyways.. enjoy!! pls remember to reblog if u liked what u read! and stay tuned for the rest of the fics coming out this month <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If it were up to you, you would just stay home for the evening. You’d kick your feet up into the ottoman and put on a random movie, latched onto Jacob’s side like a little leech. You were lucky your roommate was just as much of a cuddler as you were. It’d be kind of awkward if he wasn’t.

Unfortunately, your Saturday night plans would have to be postponed.

“It’s gonna be fun, N/N, I promise,” he tries to convince you, hands clasped together. “Sangyeon even said he’d pay your tab.”

“But I’m tired, Cobie,” you pout, knowing full well that your puppy dog eyes would always be his weakness, even if he’d never admit it to himself. “I don’t wanna go out tonight.”

He must’ve really been looking forward to going out and meeting up with the guys if not even your guilt-tripping face worked on him. He goes off on a tangent about how you always stay in, and despite loving that to an extent, sometimes he wants to enjoy a night out. You were still confused as to why he didn’t just go by himself. Why did he have to bring you along with him?

It’s not like you were dating or anything. You were just roommates. Really close roommates. Roommates who cuddled every other night. Roommates who often found themselves sleeping in the other’s bed rather than their own. Roommates who were so undeniably attracted to each other but masked it by pretending they weren’t.

Couldn’t you have been sucked into a different trope?

“I just think you’re not giving the idea enough credit,” he raises his hands in surrender. “Besides, wouldn’t you feel left out? Wouldn’t you get major FOMO?”

You sigh. He had a point. Even if you didn’t really want to go clubbing, knowing all of your friends were there without you would make you sad. Imposter syndrome came way too easily for you. “Fine, I guess I’ll go.”

Jacob fist bumps the air, dragging you from the couch to your bedroom so you could start getting ready. He knows you take a while and the arranged meet up time was two hours from the current time. You move as quickly as you can, because even if you were only interested half heartedly, you didn’t want to be late. Especially because Jacob had a knack for constantly being punctual.

You kiss your teeth as you stare at your closet after you’ve finished showering and doing your hair and makeup. You felt like there was nothing good enough to wear. This wasn’t just a bar that you usually frequented, so you couldn’t dress casually. But it also wasn’t so fancy that you had to go over the top either. And for some reason, none of your clothes could fall into the perfect in-between category.

There was one dress.

You hadn’t worn it in a while, mostly because you never found the occasion to and it brought bad memories. It was a confidence booster, that was for sure. A tight black dress that stopped just below your ass and showed the perfect amount of cleavage. The moment you put it on, it’s like you’re a new person.

Staring back at you is someone you haven’t seen in a couple years, someone you shoved into the recesses of your subconscious. She used to party every night until she was black out drunk, making out and sleeping with random strangers until she was satisfied. She was stuck in a loop until she became friends with Jacob Bae, eventually moving in to get away from that lifestyle.

You never tell him how grateful you are. Part of you wishes to keep your past buried, hidden from the light of day so you never have to face your mistakes again. But at the same time, you could never tell him thank you enough. For saving you in a way, for helping you close that chapter of your life.

There’s a knock at your door, and you call out a “Come in” before your brain catches up with you. You make eye contact with Jacob in the mirror, watching his expression shift slightly. It wouldn’t have been noticeable if you were anyone else, but you knew him almost as well as you knew yourself. Maybe better.

He walks up behind you, brushing your hair behind your shoulder with a featherlight touch. “I haven’t seen this one on you in a long time.”

He’s so close to you, it’s kind of driving you crazy. You bite the inside of your lip, trying to keep your voice steady. “Should I wear it?”

His fingers start at your waist, trailing down to the hem of your dress. His knuckles skim across the bare skin of your exposed thigh, provoking your body to shudder. “Hmm, I’m not too sure,” Jacob rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror. “Seeing you in this is making me rethink going out tonight. Kinda wanna keep you here, all to myself, like that night at Hyunjae’s party.”

Okay, so perhaps you might’ve skipped a tiny detail in the retelling of your first encounter with Jacob Bae.

The reason you two became friends was because he actually happened to be one of those random strangers you slept with. It was a stroke of luck that you kept in contact with him after that night, considering he was supposed to be nothing more than a nameless face. But he was cute and he was funny, so when he asked to hang out a few days later you couldn’t help but cave in.

“Jacob…” You breathe, chest rising and falling rapidly. “D-Don’t you wanna see the boys?”

His lips press to the juncture between your neck and collarbone, a soft kiss that already packs your head with cotton. He hums into your skin, hands bunching up your dress around your hips. Someone was impatient. “Not important. We can reschedule.”

You didn’t want to reschedule. You wanted to get out of this apartment, fully clothed, with an excuse to ignore the hammering of your heart in your rib cage and the fluttering down there. If you stayed here any longer, Jacob would successfully charm his way into your pants. (Dress?) And you didn’t want to think about the consequences that may come with.

But it’s not like he gives you much of a choice, invading your headspace with every nip and suck of your jugular and jaw. His slender fingers run a line down the front of your panties, a small groan leaving the back of his throat when he feels how wet you are for him. With heavy eyelids, you watch the entire thing in the mirror, lips parting with a gasp at the sight.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses in your ear, pulling you backward so the two of you are sitting on the edge of your bed, still facing your mirror. “You want me just as bad don’t you?”

You whine, squirming as he dips his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, collecting your slick and smearing it all over your lower lips. He helps you shimmy out of your panties and dress, leaving you completely nude for him. His fingers resume their previous activities, easily pumping the ring and middle digits in and out of your cunt. His free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on his movements.

“Cobie,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider to give both of you a better view. “Feels so good…”

His thumb circles your clit, mouth beside your ear to whisper all the filthy things he wants to do to you. Your toes curl at the same time his fingers do, brushing that sweet spot in your pussy. A strangled moan escapes you as you hit your climax, walls tightening around his fingers and back arching into his chest.

“That was so hot. You did so well for me,” he praises, thumb rubbing lazy patterns into your clit to bring you back down. “I just need you to do that on my cock. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, hands reaching behind yourself to free him from his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper in your haste. “Need you inside of me already.”

You hope Jacob doesn’t have high expectations for you since you came so quickly with just his fingers. You’re not sure if he’s anticipating you to last longer with his cock. From what you remember, he wasn’t the longest, but he was definitely the thickest, and that’s what scared you the most. You were afraid of how full he’d make you feel.

Once the clothes from his bottom half are removed, you risk a glance at his dick in the mirror, your pussy clenching around nothing. Despite not knowing if you’d be able to take him without turning into a blubbering mess, you really wanted to try. You wanted him to fill you up like a plug in a bathtub drain.

He takes his girth in one hand, sliding his dick through your folds languidly, lubricating himself with the wetness of your cunt. He groans in your ear again, squeezing your hip to steel himself. “You ready for me?”

Your head bobs up and down quickly, patience wearing thin. He chuckles before impaling you on his cock, both of you moaning from the feeling of one another. The stretch burns, but it’s fucking heavenly, your pussy feeling so stuffed you can barely think. (Not that your thoughts were coherent beforehand anyway.)

“You’re— oh god, Jacob— you’re s-so deep,” you mewl, hands supporting yourself on his thighs. “I feel so full.”

He keeps his grip on your waist, fucking up into you as slowly as he can as to not disrupt your adjustment to his cock. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, lips parted with a gasp every time he thrusts into your tight pussy. He shakes his head, urging you to stay upright.

“I need you to keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. Watch me fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” Jacob commands, voice as deep as his dick inside of you.

You comply, hooded eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head when you take in the sight of him bouncing you on his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, lip splitting from the force in which you’re biting it. He looks so hot, focused on getting you both to that peak you desperately need to reach.

It’s such a stark contrast to the sweet Jacob Bae you’re used to, this one pounding into you without mercy, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. That first time you had sex, years ago, was pretty vanilla thanks to you both having a little too much to drink that night. You don’t even think you remembered most of it. Had you known he was such a freak, maybe you wouldn’t have pretended your attraction to him was nonexistent. Maybe this would’ve happened a lot sooner.

You don’t dwell on that regret much longer, Jacob yanking your attention back in by rubbing your clit with his middle finger. The amount of overstimulation fogs your vision, voluminous, pornographic level moans reverberating around the room. The words bubbling past your lips don’t make any sense, reduced to babbling until an encouragement is uttered into your ear.

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,”

A cry is ripped from your vocal cords, your body writhing above him and continuing even after he’s orgasmed inside of you, fucking his cum into your cunt as he calms you down. You whimper when he grasps your jaw once more, egging you on to stare at the mixture of your cum running down your legs.

You both look absolutely feral, skin sticky with sweat and chests heaving up and down as if you’d ran a marathon. Jacob makes no move to pull out, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, back and shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut as a wave of exhaustion rushes over you.

“I think you’re pretty close to succeeding in your mission,” you say hoarsely. “I can hardly function right now.”

He laughs, such a melodic sound it almost doesn’t belong in your current setting. “Yeah? Do you wanna help me pass it?”

And in spite of being on the brink of passing out, who are you to deny such a promising offer?

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