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zepskies · 21 days

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Wake Me Up - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Get ready for some angsty, but fun attempts at memory jogging. 😅

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some...mature talk lol. Angst and hurt/comfort, fluff, PTSD, protective Ben, tinge of spice~

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 3: “When You Hold Me”

Those first few days were the hardest ones.

Marie ran out of paid time off, which meant she had to go back to work. That left you alone with Ben during the day.

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, and glaring at you after you’d just pushed away the bowl of bland instant oatmeal he’d “made” for you.

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in the rumpled shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched. He saw the pain and tiredness written across your face though, and the way you were sitting hunched at the breakfast bar, arms crossed on the counter. He softened a little.

“Look, I get it,” he started to say.

“No, you don’t,” you snapped. Your eyes closed as the pain sharpened. You lifted your hands to either side of your temples. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

You huffed and dropped your hands flat on the counter in frustration. Your eyes opened, and you looked down at the various healing scars littering your arms. You knew there were a few more across your neck and chest, and even your thighs. No matter how you stood, sat, or laid, it was painful to move your body. Even your face still hurt, with the fracture and bruises.

“You’re not the one who looks like Edward Scissorhands had a party,” you said, gesturing at yourself as you glared up at Ben. Emotion began to rise in your throat. “Or for a reference you’ll actually understand, how about this: I’m the Bride of goddamn Frankenstein. A fucking patchwork quilt.”

Ben hardened again, even with the deep pit forming in his stomach.

“That’s enough—”

“And despite what little you, or my mom, Grace, Annie, or even the doctors have told me, I can’t even remember who did this to me or what the hell happened,” you said. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped at them furiously and turned your face away.

“So no, the indestructible supe doesn’t understand. You literally can’t!” You pushed away from the counter and did your best not to lose your balance when a wave of vertigo hit you.

Ben started toward you, but you held up a hand against him.

“Just leave me the hell alone,” you muttered.

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever said that to him, but somehow, this one cut into him worse than the last.

Over the next several weeks, you did begin to heal from your injuries. Your doctor even noted that you were healing better than she expected. Bruises faded, wounds slowly became scars, some of their stitches removed, and with the right topical medication, a couple of them began to disappear.

The memories remained—at least for Ben. Finding you in that dark, disgusting place, breaking your chains, seeing how thoroughly that piece of shit had worked you over…

It still made him angry at times. He’d broken a couple of mugs, and one near-empty beer bottle. (You’d only caught him once, though he’d given you some bullshit excuse as to why.)

Your memory, on the other hand, still didn’t return.

And you weren’t an easy patient. That episode in the kitchen wasn’t the first, nor was it the last. Often the pain made you crabby and irritable, whenever your medication wore off. The head injury was also causing vast mood swings that Ben could barely keep up with.

It was all he could do to stop himself from snapping back at you at times (and sometimes he failed). He wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers.

Marie was the only buffer. At least, when she was home. On more than one occasion, she’d had to try and diffuse the tension.

She was working during the day though, which of course, left you with Ben.

You were prone to headaches and dizziness, so he was careful with you, more than he’d ever been. You were starting to notice how he sometimes had to correct himself before he touched you, or forced himself to be deliberately slow when he helped you.

Your mom had also been doting on you, laying out your clothes, brushing your hair, trying her best to cook for the three of you in the evening. Apparently, she’d been taking lessons, though she still couldn’t cook for shit. Ben often suggested takeout, since he was also no “Betty fucking Crocker,” in his own words.

Still, it was a foreign feeling to be taken care of. It often left you unbalanced, even after your vertigo settled, or your headaches eased.

You considered it while you and Ben were channel surfing together from opposite ends of the couch in the living room. Your mom had just given you a blanket to cover your shoulders, before she went off to water your potted plants on the balcony for you. It was a Saturday, so she had the day off work.

You watched her go with a measure of disbelief.

“Look at Mother Theresa go,” you remarked. “You’d think they replaced my mom with one of the Stepford Wives.”

Ben snorted, because he actually knew the movie you were talking about. You’d forced him to watch it with you a few months ago, mostly to tease him.

“She’s never babied me this much in my life,” you said. “Not even when I was still old enough to be babied.”

Instead of commiserating with you, Ben just sighed, shaking his head a little. He glanced away from the History Channel on the screen to shoot you a glance.

“Maybe you should cut your mom some fucking slack,” he said. “She’s doing a hell of a lot for you. Even more than I am.”

You raised a brow at him. While you had a feeling that wasn’t so easy for him to admit, something about his words annoyed you.

“You clearly don’t know her like I do,” you said.

Your childhood had been no picnic. While you didn’t necessarily blame your mom (anymore) for staying with your father when you were a kid, you had never truly been a child. Your self-imposed job had been to protect your sister’s childhood, and sometimes, your mother too.

Ben gave you a more direct look.

“I know plenty,” he said.

And in his eyes, you saw that he did know something. Perhaps too much. You gathered the throw blanket closer around your body and sank further into your side of the couch.

The last thing you wanted to talk about was your messed up childhood, let alone your father. You couldn’t even remember his death, though Marie told you that you had been there. And so had Ben.

You snuck a look at him while his attention had returned to the TV. He’d settled on Ice Road Truckers. You weren’t impressed.

“Ugh. Can we watch something else?” you asked. “Something funny maybe, like How I Met Your Mother?”

Ben shot you a look. “Sounds like a chick show.”

“Not true! It has universal appeal,” you argued. Slowly you raised yourself from your corner of the couch, grimacing just a bit as it disturbed the delicate equilibrium of your still-fractured skull. It was healing, but that, of course, would take the most time. Your headaches would turn into migraines if you weren’t careful.

Ben knew that full well as he watched you move towards him across the couch. He couldn’t help but reach out a hand to steady you by your arm. You gifted him with a smile and grabbed onto him.

“Please?” you implored.

Ben tried to remain unaffected, but that smile of yours was endearing. Plus, it wasn’t often that you willingly reached out to him, touched him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he said, turning off the TV with the remote. You gave him a curious look. He turned to you with a smile.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

Of course this man would have a Benz, you thought. The car was black and sleek with beige interior, and it was both comfortable and decked out with all the modern bells and whistles.

You wondered if he knew what half of these buttons did as you gazed across the dashboard, but the path of your eyes continued until you settled on the man himself. Ben was casually dressed in a burgundy sweater and dark brown slacks, a silver Rolex on his wrist. He had one hand casually on the wheel and the other resting in his lap.

Part of you itched to take his hand, but you decided against it. You could admit, if only to yourself, that you were warming up to him.

Maybe you even liked him.

You knew you didn’t always make it easy, but he had been as patient and gentle as he could be with you, for a man who clearly wasn’t used to being either for anyone.

Despite his gruff exterior, however, you knew he had to care about you to put up with all this. It made you more willing to trust him…and even more curious about him.

“What’s my favorite color?” you asked.

Ben gave you a furrowed look. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your blouse.

“We’ve supposedly been together for a year,” you reasoned. “You should know what my favorite color is.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Come on,” you nudged his arm, trying to get him to smile. You succeeded, just a little.

“I don’t know…blue,” he guessed. Your mouth fell open in shock.

“How do you not know my favorite color’s red?” you said. “That’s the most basic thing ever.”

“What are you, five years old? Who fucking cares?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I do!” you said. “Well, fine, Mr. Grump. When’s my birthday?”

With another shake of his head, he did correctly answer that question, at least.

“What’s my favorite food?” you asked.

“What’s with the goddamn quiz?” he retorted.

“I’m seeing how well you actually know me,” you countered. “Come on. Impress me.”

Ben slowed to a stop at a busy intersection. He’d been trying to jog your memory by passing certain landmarks he thought you might recognize, like the grocery store you two always shopped at, or the park where you liked to go for walks. So far, you seemed disinterested in the sights and more interested in grilling him.

Despite his longsuffering sigh, he had to wrack his brain in order to come up with something for you.

“The Beatles are your favorite band. Specifically the Abbey Road album,” he said.

That didn’t exactly answer your earlier question, but…he wasn’t wrong.

“Okay, you get a point there,” you said.

“And you fucking love Christmas,” he said, somehow with both annoyance and fondness. “Tacky as hell, with the…the ribbons, and the red flowers, and the jingle balls, and whatever the fuck else you can get your hands on. You love that shit. Because when you were a kid, that was the only time of the year your family got any peace.”

You were smiling at his description, but you sobered when he got to that last bit. Ben met your gaze.

“I know that you’ve had three boyfriends before me,” he said. Then, a smirk grew across his face. “But I’m the only one who’s made you come. Every time. Like a goddamn faucet.”

You gaped as your face grew red with a hot blush. “Excuse me—”

“You claim to like getting taken from behind the best. And you do. You’re all too happy to get bent in half for me. Hair pulling, ass-slapping, the whole sticky nine yards,” he continued, with an even fonder gleam of memory in his eyes. His hands caressed the leather wheel of his car, long fingers flexing.

“But you actually like it better when you can see my face, watch me work. I don’t blame you,” he added, smiling. “I mean, if there was an Oscar for laying it the fuck down, I would’ve taken that shit year after year. Would’ve beat out Bert Reynolds by a fucking landslide.”

You thought you were about to combust, whether from indignation, or straight up embarrassment, you didn’t know. (And you were going to ignore the little tremble of heat between your legs.)

But just as you were about to blow your top, figuratively speaking, Ben’s expression became more serious when his gaze returned to you.

“I know that you’ve had to take care of yourself. And that you’ve been alone all your life,” he said. Then a slight pause, before his attention went back to the road. “That’s something you and I have in common.”

The light turned green. Your anger and embarrassment settled, somewhat, into contemplation. You didn’t know what to make of this man.

He was infuriating, with all kinds of audacity. He was crass, and at times, he grated on your very last nerve.

But somehow, he knew you. He seemed to know the parts of you that you didn’t even want to know.

Sensing your angry gaze on the side of his face, he turned to you with a devil-may-care grin.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Ben, I’m not dressed for this,” you said, leaning in close to whisper to him.

He’d taken you to a nice steakhouse for dinner, on the even more affluent side of town. You still couldn’t believe you’d moved out of New York City to Scarsdale, of all places.

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you closer, enough for you to feel his body heat.

“You’re just right,” he looked down on you with a teasing wink. It made you blush, despite yourself, with a small smile.

You went with him to a secluded booth in the back, by his request with the hostess. They seemed to know him, so maybe he was a regular. Or more likely, both of you were regulars. This place was only vaguely familiar, but when you saw the menu, you knew you were going to get the salmon.

Ben snorted when you said so.

“Yeah, that’s what you always get,” he said.

He smiled though—at the fact that this little outing was helping you make progress after all.

He didn’t need the menu either. He always ordered the dry-aged porterhouse steak. You couldn’t drink on the medication you were on, but he ordered a glass of bourbon for himself.

When the meal eventually came out, you glanced at his enormous plate with wide eyes. That had to be the biggest damn steak you’d ever seen, along with a huge loaded baked potato and a side of broccoli. You doubted the greens would do all that much for him, nutrition-wise.

“Whoa. Did they cut up a stegosaurus back there?” you quipped.

Ben chuckled. He’d actually missed your sense of humor, no matter how dumb it was sometimes. He unwrapped the steak knife they gave him from his napkin and started to carve a big piece.

You raised your brows, but shifted your attention to your fish and mashed potatoes. It was delicious. Like melt-in-your-mouth good, and you weren’t sure fish was supposed to be “melty.” No wonder you two liked coming here.

But then, your thoughts were entirely derailed.

Hearing the sound of his knife hitting the plate, carving into the meat—it struck a discordant note in your mind. You looked over, and the sharp, silvery gleam of it caused a vision to flash across your eyes…

Of a blade sliding against your skin, over and over. Along with questions. The same questions being asked of you, over and over.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“Tell me!” a man demanded. “Give me something.”

He grabbed your face, squeezed your neck until you choked on blood and spit.

“Hey!” a more familiar voice cut through it all. “Come on, sweetheart. Answer me.”

You blinked and caught yourself mid-gasp, staring into the deep green of Ben’s eyes.

Your head was resting on his shoulder, his hand pressed to the side of your cheek, which stung slightly, as if he’d had to try and wake you. His arm was wrapped around your waist in the booth.

He was gentle in sliding your hair away from your face, but his own was hard and almost angry, as his brows were knitted together. His gaze then traveled across the room, and you realized that there were other people in the restaurant now watching you and Ben. Even the servers stopped what they were doing at the sound of his shout.

He gave them all a pointed glare.

“What? Nothing to fucking see here,” he snapped. Most of them were wise enough to turn away, back to their meals and conversation. Ben focused on you as you caught your breath. You were finally able to support yourself, though you stayed leaning on his shoulder. He wasn’t about to let you go either, until he got some answers.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. You frowned at his gruff tone, until you met his eyes. Somehow, you could see that there was worry there.

You glanced down, and you closed your eyes when you saw it. You pressed your face into his arm to steady yourself.

“The uh…the knife,” you whispered. “It made me see something…remember something.”

“What did you remember?” he asked quickly. You sucked in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

“Nothing good,” you whispered.

You felt him pause. You heard the shuffle of silverware, a thump on the table. Then his hand came up and cupped your cheek.

“It’s okay. I put it away,” he said.

Tears burned behind your eyelids, and you buried your face harder against his chest. At this point, it wasn’t just about seeing the knife. It was knowing that whatever had happened to you, it had truly been hell. Unlike anything you’d ever been through before.

“You want to go home?” came Ben’s voice, deep and steady in your ear.

You sniffed and nodded, as your tears seeped into the fabric of his sweater. He rubbed your back, holding you more securely.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, the episode at the restaurant led you to a migraine. Ben carried you to the master bedroom and laid you down, helped you undress down to your underwear, and gave you a shirt you liked to sleep in. He turned all the lights off and made sure the curtains were closed tight.

Marie brought you your pain medication with a glass of water. Ben hoped there was enough in your stomach that the pills wouldn’t make you nauseous as well, like they occasionally did.

After you took the meds, you curled up on the bed and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to whimper like a child. You’d dealt with pain before; that was nothing new. But this was getting ridiculous.

Ben gave Marie a certain look. “I’ve got it from here.”

She gazed at you with sympathetic tears in her eyes, but she nodded and touched his arm.

“If you need anything, just call for me,” she whispered.

Ben nodded, but he closed the door behind her and began by taking off his watch, then his shoes, pants, and sweater. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt.

You were too busy hugging your pillow and pressing your face into it. You didn’t realize he was still with you until the bed dipped behind you.

Ben turned you around and gathered you into his arms. You inhaled sharply, but then you clung to him. His chest and middle were warm, a bit unnaturally so.

“You’re hot,” you muttered, splaying a hand against his chest. “Like a radiator.”

Ben quirked a smile. “Yeah, you tend to complain about that.”

You shook your head and pressed yourself closer to him. “Not today.”

He wiped the tears from your cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead. He held you that way for a while, just silence and the sound of your breathing covering the room. Eventually, the pain medication began to kick in, helping to ease your pounding skull.

You pulled back enough to see Ben’s face. He was still awake, but he opened his eyes and met yours in the dim light. You reached up and touched his bearded cheek, hesitantly.

“Why can’t I remember?” you asked, in a broken voice.

Ben’s brows furrowed. He curled his hand around yours and let out a breath.

“I don’t know,” he said, but all he wanted was for this to be over.

“I could take this from you,” he said. “What’s the big fucking deal about a blood transfusion?”

Your fingers stilled against his cheek. Your tearful eyes averted from his, but you weren’t as opposed to the idea as you were before.

“The last time, it healed me?” you asked.

“Within the hour,” he said. His hand tightened a fraction on yours. “It’ll be like it never happened. And your memories could even come back.”

You sighed, briefly closing your eyes. Your hand fell from his cheek, but you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you said.

Ben’s frown remained, but at least it was a step in the right direction. He took your chin and slowly tilted your face up to his. You stared up at him with shining eyes. He didn’t like the pain he still saw there, but he did like the way you glanced down at his lips.

He took a chance, and he leaned down to meet you with a kiss. What first was a gentle touch, soon became heady as your hand slid up his arm and into his hair. He brought you flush against him and deepened the kiss, when his tongue swept past your lips and brushed against yours. You welcomed him in with a surprised moan.

He hadn’t tasted you in so damn long, it was like indulging a craving he’d been denying himself. It was even harder to slow down and ease away from your lips.

You rested your forehead against his chest afterward.

“Wow,” you breathed. “Okay.”

Ben chuckled. But unlike the movies, a kiss didn’t break the spell. You were his, but not completely.

He wanted nothing more than to show you how much you could be…but your body was still weak. He would have to continue protecting you, even from himself.

“I want to stay here tonight,” he said.

Despite his earlier thoughts, he didn’t think he could take one more night of not being with you in this bed. He could control himself. He just wanted to make sure you were all right, and safe with him.

It took you a moment to decide, but you nodded.

“You can stay,” you agreed, with a more teasing smile. “I don’t think your old man back can handle the couch anymore.”

He snorted in amusement. There was some more of your sense of humor peeking through.

Meanwhile, you still weren’t totally convinced that him sleeping in the bed with you was a good idea. A good part of you craved his nearness, and how he made you feel safe…but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to continue being so vulnerable with him.

Just when you were about to put some distance here between you and tell him to stay on his side, Ben rolled you back around so that your back was pressed to his chest. He slid a warm, strong arm around your waist. His lips pressed to your bare shoulder. The sleep shirt you wore (one of his old shirts) had ridden down your arm.

“Just relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

And you actually believed it.

You felt comfortable and secure in his embrace. Soon enough, you relaxed into him.

Sleep wasn’t easy, but you got there in time. It even lasted for a while.

Just not long enough.

In your dreams, there were flashes of things that didn’t make sense. They were jumbled together like white noise on a TV, occasionally screeching with color, and mostly red with blood.

You woke up shaking and sweating.

Ben was a light sleeper at best. He was startled awake in confusion, disturbed by how you had been tossing and turning and making sounds of distress. He turned toward you and moved his arm to make room for you, but he decided he would let you come to him this time.

You didn’t disappoint him. You reached for him and buried your face in the crook of his neck for a while, trying to ground yourself in him. He held you and rubbed your back until you calmed down.

When you pulled away slightly, and spoke his name in the dark, Ben looked into your eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn you were there. The real you.

“Thanks for staying with me,” you whispered.

Ben was disappointed. This wasn’t you remembering. But at least, this was you being you, thanking a man like him.

He just nodded and guided you back into his arms. You let him hold you for the rest of the night.

AN: So close, but yet so far. 🥲

But just wait for the last part...

Next Time:

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around your body. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4 (Finale!)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

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blue-slxt · 8 months

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Kinktober 9

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterist

A/N: We need more queue play in this fandom. There, I said it. There's just not enough of it for my liking lol. I hope you guys enjoy this one. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: Accidental Stimulation, Queue Play, Kinda cute?

“Hey Neteyam?” you ask your best friend while he sat a little cramped on your bed. He had been flipping through some old books that you had lying around. He hums in response to you not really taking his eyes off what he was doing.

“I’m curious about something.” You say coming to sit in front of him. He finally raises his eyes to you and listen to your question.

“That one really long braid that you have, what does it feel like? Does it hurt?” you ask tilting your head a little.

He raises his hairless eyebrows in surprise. He knows that humans don’t have anything like it to compare to, but he never thought you gave it a second thought.

“You mean my kuru?” he asks. “It’s a little hard to describe, but it doesn’t hurt.”

He takes notice of the way your fingers fidget with each other in your lap.

“C-can I touch it?”

His jaw drops a little at your question. It has him a bit concerned because usually no one touches it just for the hell of it. He’s not even sure what that would feel like. He almost wants to say no. But the glimmer in your eye looking at it and the small squirm of your tiny body makes his heart too soft to deny you.

“Sure. Just be careful with it, yes?” he says.

You excitedly nod your head at him and a small smile sits on your face. Neteyam adjusts himself to turn to the side and you sit on the bed behind him eyeing the long thick braid that trailed down his back. Your fingers reach out to trace up and down it and Neteyam feels like his breath hitches in his throat a bit at your delicate touch.

You can’t see him, but his face is scrunched trying to understand this building tension in his body that came with the stroke of your small hand. You do your best to watch his body language for any sign that you’re hurting him, but you can’t see any so you continue. You gently grab the bottom and hold it in front of your face to watch the pretty pink tendrils whirl around violently in your grasp. You study them and the patterns that they move in. They dance around looking for something to grab onto and when your fingers get just close enough, they take hold of your digits and don’t let go.

Neteyam’s pupils blow wide open and he shudders at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry. It won’t let go.” You say afraid that you’re hurting him and wiggling your fingers trying to free yourself. Meanwhile, Neteyam feels like the air has been knocked out of him and is somehow getting incredibly hard at the same time. Normally, his kuru is for bonding with his ikran and the tree of souls, but having it touched and stimulated by your hand right now was sending jolts of electricity through his body and straight to his cock that pulsed with his increasing heartbeat under his loincloth.

“W-wait…” his voice comes out breathy and almost like a whimper. It’s mortifying for him, but you just think that he’s in pain and you desperately try to untangle yourself from him.

“Sorry, they’re really stuck on there. They don’t want to let me go.” You say tugging lightly on them and white spots dot his vision momentarily. Neteyam has to turn around and grab your wrist to stop you from accidentally making him cum right then and there. You stare back at him wide-eyed and worried about the flush on his face and how he was panting.

“Just relax and let me help you.” He says low and even. He holds your wrist and the end of his kuru and takes a few deep breaths before gently tugging them apart and the tendrils finally, reluctantly release your fingers.

You sheepishly hold your hands in your lap, “Note to self: don’t do that again. Sorry.”

“No no no, I mean, it wasn’t that bad. It was just more than I thought it would be.” He says deepening the stain of color on his face. “But you can do it again whenever you want. Just maybe don’t ask anyone else, okay?” His ears are flat against his head when he speaks and you're not sure you've ever seen Neteyam so unsettled before.

“Okay…?” you agree wondering if it might possibly offend anyone else that wasn’t Neteyam.

He ends up staying the night with you which was unusual for him, but you weren’t complaining. You loved his company. And he purrs himself to sleep resting his head on your chest while you stroke his head.

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#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut #lunaskinktober2023

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tinkerbelle05 · 9 months

Text

Maybe We Will Get Through This Together Part 2

Characters: Jaime Reyes x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst, hopeful ending

Summary: You find out that you pregnant while Jaime is at college and, you have yet to tell him.

Warnings: alludes to past sexual experiences, talks of pregnancy, adoption, and abortion, talks about financial insecurity, arguing, lying, mentions of miscarriage

Special thanks to @scryarchives once again for their help!

Part 1 (you should probably read this lol)

You took a deep breath, “Jaime, I'm pregnant.”

He laughed, “What? What do you mean you're pregnant?”

You swallowed, “I am not joking. I've done all the tests. I am definitely pregnant.”

“We should give this time some privacy,” Nana proposed, and the rest of the family exited the restaurant and left you two alone.

Jaime blinked several times, trying to wrap his mind around this. You felt bad, this was a lot of information in just a few short moments.

“Um…um okay, how far along you? Wait…wait a minute,” he said suddenly with a confused look on his face. “How…how are you pregnant? We haven't had sex in months?”

Right, that part. You grimaced at this and started to explain yourself to the best of you ability.

“Um, okay so I’ve known I was pregnant for awhile. Um for about 3 months,” you admitted and hung your head in shame.

At the time, it seemed like a good idea. To hold off telling Jaime but right now, it didn’t feel like a good idea.

“So you lied?” Jaime asked bluntly and his eyes burning into your soul. “You lied, to my face. For months?”

Tears started to prickle into your eyes as you looked away from him, “I’m so, so sorry Jaime. I…I thought…”

“You thought it would be a good idea to lie to my face! To hide something like this from me?! How could you do that?! Why would you do that?! Every face time, every text message. You knew and just didn’t tell me,” Over the loud yelling and scathing glare, you could see his eyes becoming glossy.

Saying sorry was all you could do. The confidence you had that this was the right choice was completely shattered when you saw how upset Jaime was.

And wasn’t that just cruel irony. You chose to do something to make sure Jaime didn’t get hurt, but you ended up doing it anyway.

Jaime held his face in his hands, taking deep breathes to calm himself down.

“How far along?” He asked again.

“4 months,” you answered.

“4 months? I…I missed that much,” he mutter under his breath, lost in thought.

“Jaime, really I’m sorry. I….I just didn’t know how to tell you, and you were busy with school so I didn’t want to bother you,” you started rambling off an explanation but no matter what you said, it still didn’t seem right.

He looked at you in shock, “Bother me? How…how would telling me that your pregnant with my child is bothering me? How?!”

“Well you worked really hard to get into that college, and I thought knowing I was pregnant could distract you. And I didn’t want that so…”

Jaime looked at her, “So you lied to me for months because you decided that it would be best for me? Do you know how messed up that sounds?”

You sniffed, “Yes, I do, and I’m so, so, sorry.”

Jaime cleared his throat, “Well…is the baby alright?”

You numbly nodded. Jaime had a change the topic of the conversation, asking questions about the baby. But you could still feel the tension simmering around you, and could tell that he's obviously still mad.

After that you two walled home in utter silence. When you came home, the questions on the family’s face was obvious but they didn't speak it. Jaime didn't speak either, a small greeting and he went to his room.

God, where were you going to sleep tonight?

You don't think Jaime would ever kick you out but well you don't know exactly how he would react. You both had your fair share of arguments but they were never silent.

Cold, even.

For the next few weeks, you and Jaime co-existed in silence. You would sleep in the same bed with your backs turned to each other. You would eat the same dinner table but never talked directly to each other.

You were fixing your hair and getting your clothes on when Jamie entered the room. It was awkward staring and then silence, as usual.

“Where are you going?” he asked, noting your appearance.

“I have a doctor’s appointment,” you answered. You looked at the open dresser, none of shirts would fit you right now.

Jaime’s would though.

Before you would take the shirt without asking, but with how your relationship is, it felt like an overstep.

“Um, Jaime?” you turned around to see him getting dressed too. “What are you doing?”

“Going to the appointment with you,” he answered. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You winced, “Well…I didn’t think you would want to go with. Oh, and can I wear one of your shirts? None of my fit.”

Jaime stared at you, “Of course I want to go with, it’s my kid too. And since when have you ever asked for my shirts?”

You were struggling to come up with an answer, you hoped it was a rhetorical one but Jaime had an expectant gaze on you.

Jaime sighed when you didn’t speak and came closer to you, “Listen, I’m…I’m still angry with you, at you. But I still love and care for you, that will never change.”

You sniffed and hastily wiped your eyes, “Hormones,” you said and he nodded.

You quickly got dressed and you both went to your doctor’s appointment together.

You were nervous but excited, like you were for every appointment. You hoped for good news but always prepared yourself for the worst.

Though it was nice to have someone to go with you this time, maybe it’ll stop all of those judgmental stares that people think are not noticeable.

You settled into the bed while Jaime sat on the chair, holding your bag. It was quiet in the room and you didn’t know how to break the silence.

Even though Jaime expressed he still loved for you, it was still rather awkward.

The sonographer walked with a small smile on her face and a cheerful voice, “Hi, how are we doing today?”

Both you and Jaime answered a “Fine” and the woman sat in the chair.

“And who are you?” She asked Jaime.

“Oh, I’m Jaime Reyes, her boyfriend. Nice to meet you,” he introduced himself and shook her hand.

She smiled, “Nice to meet you too, my name’s Katie.”

You’ve been through this process before, you answered all of her questions on autopilot and didn’t even flinched when the cold goop was placed on your belly.

You saw Jaime intensively watching though, his eyes never leaving you or the multiple instruments.

“And here’s the fetus,” Katie pointed to the screen, using her finger she pointed out all of the features that your baby had.

You smiled softly and felt yourself tearing up, you looked at Jaime and saw him staring at the screen in wonder.

“Would you like to see the gender?” She asked.

“We can find that out this early?” Jaime marveled with hopeful eyes.

Eyes you haven’t seen in a while, it made you happy.

She nodded and moved the joystick around a bit and then stopped with a quiet gasped. “There, your having a little boy.”

“Really?” Jaime asked in a quiet voice and glossy eyes.

Katie smiles and the rest of the appointment goes by smoothly. She prints out copies of the ultrasound for you guys and soon you left the doctor’s office.

“God, he’s beautiful.” Jaime said, touching the picture delicately.

You chucked, “You can’t even see most of the baby’s features.”

“They are our baby. They’re gonna be beautiful, no matter what,” Jaime said and you smiled at him.

You felt things were getting better, slowly but surely.

Of course, it hurts not having Jaime’s complete trust but, well you made your own bed and now you must lie in it.

You just hoped that one day Jaime’s trust you again. You’ll do whatever it takes and wait as long as it takes to gain it back.

Maybe, you’ll get through this.

Sorry this is a day late lol.

Like and Reblog if you like to! It helps a lot.

Tags: @marmar-c, @renaimel, @asvterias, @alexa-33, @dcnerd98, @allthingsvicf, @losingmywayyyy, @nightwingandhissquad, @wintersdeadd, @sodacatz, @louiesdaydream, @zerosinterweb, @conicoroahre, @1clownette1, @fullsiinner, @bluecray0nn, @asvterias, @shslsimpette, @starii-light, @writing-fanics, @alienstardust, @silvermagnolias, @flyingmushroomss, @sarahbutnot, @theblackestvalkyrie

Taglist & Masterlist & Anonlist & Reqs Info

#blue beetle fanfiction #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle fanfic #blue beetle fic #blue beetle imagines #blue beetle x you #blue beetle headcanon #jaime reyes fanfiction #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes x y/n #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes fanfic #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes fic #jaime reyes headcanons #reader insert

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xoxo-surfergirl · 5 months

Text

A Very Targaryen Holiday - Dark!Aemond x Strong!Niece

Part I

summary: Lucera and Aemond reunite with their families to spend the holidays together. Aemond wasn’t always nice to her when he was younger, but has he changed?

notes: the main pairing in this is aemond x strong niece, but I guess I did write it as aemond x fem!lucerys velaryon. Whichever floats your boat more! aemond is not the nicest in this, but this fic is a mix of fluff and smut (but none of the fluff comes from aemond, lol). Slight dubcon, rough oral sex, and attempts at humor. There are no physical descriptions of Lucera besides her having long hair. There is a second part, which I will be posting soon. I cross post on ao3, with essentially the same username (just without the hypen) xoxosurfergirl! I hope you enjoy!!!! <3

Lucera took a deep inhale, followed by a deep exhale. Indulging in her breath usually helped whenever her nerves began to get the best of her. Her suitcase was cracked open in front of her, waiting for her to stuff it.

A few fancy dresses. A few long sleeves—it could get cold there at night. Several pairs of pants. A tank top just in case. A swim suit for the hot tub. More underwear than she needed.

She ran back to her dresser to grab the last few items required to fulfill her trip, when her door swung open loudly. Baela was able to nearly leap from the door to the bed, causing her comforter and pillows to jump from impact.

Her curls splayed out onto the bed in a halo. “I’ve always loved your bed. It’s the softest out of all of ours, you know.”

Lucera looked at her, unease crawling its way through her stomach and up her throat. “Yeah, well. You can always ask mother for a new one.”

Baela softened her face. “Luce, I know this is weird for you.”

“No, no. It’s fine, really, it’s just been awhile.” Lucera folded her clothes to keep her hands focused.

“It’s not really fine. I know we haven’t talked about it for a long time, but I know how weird it must feel for you.”

Lucera sighed. “It’s just, everything might be completely normal you know? And I’m anxious about nothing.”

Baela sat up on the bed, making deep eye contact with Lucera. “Don’t discount your feelings. It’s been four years since we’ve seen them, and for very good reason. Let me remind you that after you accidentally maimed him, he did try to hurt you. On purpose.” Lucera looked away, but Baela continued. “The only reason why we haven’t celebrated Christmas with them is because there were so many close calls and mother noticed”

She remembered the “close calls”. If only they had known all of the times the calls weren’t so close, but no one was there to see it.

“I know, I just wonder sometimes if it’s all in my head. Nothing really happened,” Lie. “I’m the only one who actually hurt someone.” A deep sense of shame leaked through Lucera’s chest, one that she had been trying for years to tame.

But Baela wouldn’t let her stew. “It was an accident, Luce. It’s okay. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to understand it. But what he was doing was not an accident. Remember the year he locked you in Grandfather’s industrial freezer for half an hour? Any longer than that and you would have died. Remember last time he took an ornament and forced you to crush it with your hand so you’d get glass stuck in your skin? Remember when he tried to slam your arm in the oven but Jace stopped him? Remember that other year he almost drowned you in the hot tub? There are even more than this, Lucera. You are perfectly right to be nervous about seeing him again.”

The walls in her mind were crumbling with Baela’s narration of the past holidays. These were memories Lucera had done her best to stifle, but they always returned louder than ever. She would never tell Baela that she had let him do these things, or that there were several more incidents that no one else knew about, because she had always felt like he deserved some form of retribution for losing his eye at her hand.

Aemond had always taken a keen interest in her. He had always followed her, watched her intently. It wasn’t hard to take notice of it. Everyone had.

But everyone had written it up to be nothing beyond youth fascination. Children stare at each other all the time. There was nothing peculiar about Aemond’s behavior.

It was only after the accident that his attention on her took a slight new meaning. Although hesitant at first to resume the previous non-concern from the rest of her family, time had worn away the worry it had initially caused. It had allowed for much else between them to take place.

“Thank you, Bae. I am nervous, but part of me does think we’ve all changed a bit. I certainly have.” And she had. They are adults now. It would be weird if he was still into torture. Most kids grow out of it.

“Exactly. We were weird teenagers and now we’re actually older. I’m sure we’ve all changed a lot since then.”

------------

The snow crunched under their tires, a fresh coat not yet salted by the city. Lucera recognized the skyscrapers in the distance, and her face softened when she saw the telltale curves of the family company’s building peak around the corner. Although it had been some time since she had visited their family townhouse in the city, she remembered the streets like she had lived there her whole life. Happy Little Treats, the best bakery in the city. Blackie’s, the best diner on the East Side.

Her, Rhaena, Jace, and Baela had decided to drive separately from their parents, who also had Joanie with them, as well as little Aemma and Viserra. It was much easier to take two cars, especially when they knew they would probably want to go out at different times from their parents who had two little ones. Poor Joanie, too young to be with the older girls all the time, but also far too old to be stuck with Aemma and Viserra, was doomed to float between the two groups.

The radio was tuned to holiday music, and the girls delighted in singing along to every song that rang through the speakers.

As they were closing in on their destination, Baela intercepted the music with her normal speaking voice, the first to do so in over an hour. “What do you think they all look like now?”

Rhaena was the first to answer. “I’m not sure about Aegon or Aemond, but Helaena and I see each other at uni. She’s radiant and beautiful, as she always has been.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you've mentioned seeing her around.” Baela replied.

Rhaena smiled, and shook her head down. “Yeah, she’s the coolest, honestly.”

Baela laughed. “Out of those three? It’s no competition.”

Jacaera’s breath fogged up the window as she spoke. “I’ve seen Aegon and Aemond in passing at uni as well. They seem alright. Aegon is no longer the tall one.”

Lucera perked at this. Aemond? Tall? She shook her head. “I swear I forget we all go to the same school sometimes. There’s just so many people I never see them.”

“Aemond is tall now? Wow. I’ll have to see it to believe it.” Baela jeered.

Jacaera drew a heart in the fogged glass before turning and facing the rest of her sisters. “Yes! It was honestly shocking at first. I barely recognized him, but I saw the eyepatch and knew immediately.”

Oh right. The eye patch. Lucera sighed. Baela moved her hand to sit atop hers in acknowledgement.

A right turn here, a left turn there, and the chateaux-style massive townhouse came into view. The four stories were gaudily embellished by baroque trim, with a massive oak door calling attention to its center. Wreaths were attached to the base of every windowsill, and a candle placed in each window. They watched as Rhaenyra and Daemon pulled Aemma and Viserra out of their carseats, having arrived a few moments before they did. Joanie was looking up at the mass of the townhouse, most likely counting how many windows there were, trying to remember which room was what.

Two men Lucera didn’t recognize dressed in all black greeted her parents, and Daemon smiled and gave him his car keys.

Rhaena twisted the steering wheel to pull up right behind them, and the other man dressed in black immediately jumped to open all of their car doors. Lucera felt like she was moving in slow motion the way the man was everywhere at once, and by the time she had stepped onto the sidewalk, he already had the trunk thrown open and was lifting their suitcases next to her.

“Thank you!” Lucera said enthusiastically, trying to cut through his quickness.

The house—if it could be called such a humble thing, loomed above her. She felt as if she was stepping into all holidays past, where he lingered with the bitter taste of sadism.

The large doors eased open, beckoning them inside. When she peaked in, she saw Daemon’s black trench coat deep in the arms of her grandfather, Rhaenyra to his side, buried in Alicent with a beaming smile of delight. They let go, embracing one another in turn. Viserys could barely contain his excitement at the sight of the little ones, having crouched down to greet them. Lucera noticed the exact moment he caught sight of the rest of her and her sisters, and his joy multiplied ten times over.

“Oh, my girls! My girls.” He said, reaching in to hug each one of them. “I couldn’t be more happy to have all of my family in one place again.”

Greetings were further extended to Alicent. It must have been an exhausting process for Viserys and Alicent, she guessed, since there were so many of them.

Alicent addressed the group. “I was just telling your parents, the rest of them are lost in the house somewhere. I’m sure you’ll see them shortly.”

The girls nodded, and Joanie said something about being excited to see Daeron. The flurry of movement divided as everyone was sent to their rooms to unpack.

Alicent nodded to a staircase on her left. “I put you girls up in the kid’s wing.”

Jacaera laughed, playfulness in her voice. “Only some of us are still kids.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Alicent waved her hand downwards. “You’ll always be children to me.”

Climbing up three floors was exhausting without the bag, and Lucera could hardly imagine doing it with the extra weight in tow. She looked at the house staff carrying her and her sisters bags, and felt a bit sorry for them.

After reaching her rooms, she was delighted to see that she had a window overlooking the front sidewalk. There were fresh winter roses placed delicately in an opaque white vase on her bedside table, the blue jumping out against the walls of her bedroom.

Her nerves were reaching an all time high. She still hadn’t seen Aemond, yet he was here. But her thoughts were interrupted when Baela swung open her door.

Lucera turned to look at her. “Do you ever knock?”

Baela spun around and leaned exaggeratingly against the door frame before saying, “Not with you, I don’t. All of us girls are going to the hot tub. Put your bathing suit on.”

Lucera smiled, and unzipped her suitcase. “I’ll be ready in five. Wait for me?”

------------

The hot tub was roiling, jets pumping near blistering water against their backs. It was heavenly. Their hair was tied up in variations of buns and pony tails, the ends tickling their necks.

Rhaena had been intently looking at the back of the townhouse. “It’s so crazy to be back here after all these years.”

“It’s hardly changed since then. It feels like I’m stepping into a place frozen in time.” Jacaera marveled.

Helaena chuckled at their insight. “I’m sure it feels that way. I haven’t been to Dragonstone in forever either.”

Jacaera turned to her in revelation. “Gods that’s right! You should come stay with us for the summer. The beach is so warm then.”

“Yeah! Maybe when we all finish up our finals Helaena can just come home with us?” Rhaena said in agreement.

“I’d be happy if you had me,” Helaena replied. “What are all you studying anyways?”

Baela went first. “I’m studying business, with a concentration on finance.”

Lucera seconded her. “Me as well.”

Jacaera tagged at the end of Lucera's agreement. “Also me.”

Helaena laughed. “All you three planning to work for the family business, then?”

“Something like that. Jacaera, Baela, and I will take over after Rhaenyra and Daemon.” Lucera answered. “After Viserys passes, of course. It will be awhile, but there’s a lot to learn anyways.”

“Aemond’s going to do the same. Aegon isn’t interested in being a part of Hightower Associates, and neither am I, but Aemond is preparing to take over after our grandfather. Have you seen him around uni?”

Baela chuckled. “We were just talking about that,” she looked at Jacaera. “Only Jace has, really.”

“Hm. That’s funny considering he’s also in your department.” Helaena remarked.

“Right? I mean the library is huge, but it can’t be that large. I’m there all the time.” Jacaera pondered.

“Knowing him, he probably found a secret room and lives out of it”. Helaena sighed. “He doesn’t go out too much, and he’s really focused on his work.”

Lucera thought about the growing man Aemond had morphed into. One who was deeply integrated and committed to his family business, just as she. It only meant he had gotten more cutthroat. It’s the only way to survive in the world of finance they were thrust into. None of the top hedge fund managers, heads of banking families, or titans of brokers reached and stayed where they were because they were the most virtuous. To survive in this world meant being vicious at times.

A trait that ran in the family, clearly.

“We’ll probably run into him one of these days.” Baela acquiesced. “What are you studying again Helaena?”

“Studio art, concentrating on painting. Aegon is doing the same, but focusing on photography. We both much prefer it to the chaos of the family business.” She said proudly, until she realized the context of the conversation. “Not that I’m putting you down for choosing it, or anything.”

Jacaera giggled. “No, we get it. It is pretty chaotic.”

The hot tub had gone from the initial burn, to comfortable, to boiling again as the conversations ebbed and flowed through several different interests of theirs, such as their love lives and the semester's hook-ups, with extra time spent on the more embarrassing ones. It was truly Baela dominating the bulk of the conversation, hardly anyone else had anything to add apart from a meager makeout here and there.

Baela was also newly introduced to the term “situationship”, as the rest of them deduced she was most certainly in one with Adam Hull.

“Just because we sleep in the same bed most nights doesn’t mean we’re together.” She objected.

Helaena was set on getting her to admit it. “And does he stay in the morning? Do you do any other activities together?”

Baela scoffed. “We get dinner sometimes. And go to the movies every Tuesday, but that’s only because tickets are half-off on Tuesdays. And we go to the gym together. But it’s nothing, really.”

Helaena tried to ease her into it. “You do realize that is essentially a relationship, besides you have no direct commitment or any expectations? Someone is going to get hurt eventually.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “And it’s probably him. Gods Baela, the man is probably in love with you and you are too daft to see it.”

All eyes on her, Baela was lost in the processing of this new information, until she remembered who and where she was, and quickly found a way to deflect it. “Oh shut up. Says you, you’re like the genuine version of a pick-me girl. Every man who looks at you falls in love with you.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”

A smile crept across Baela’s lips, successfully removing the attention away from her situationship. “Um, no I’m not. What of Tyrek Lannister? Gerrick Greyjoy? Dorren Stark? And that’s only from this quarter.” She used her hands to prove her point, counting them on her fingers.

Lucera threw up her arms. “I can’t help it! Honestly! Besides, I don’t lead anyone on, just have maybe a kiss or two.” The rest of the girls sang a chorus of oos, bringing a blush through her cheeks.

“And who was the best out of them?” Jacaera coaxed.

“It hardly matters,” Lucera drawled, “but, it was Gerrick.”

“Hm. I’m surprised it wasn’t Stark.” Rhaena gave a side-long glance at Jacaera. “I’ve heard good things about Stark men.”

Jacaera’s face flushed, praying the heat from the tub would conceal her thoughts. Naturally, everyone noticed, but chose to spare their easily flustered sister.

Helaena looked her in the eyes, and threw her a trusting wink.

------------

As the day wore on, Lucera’s anticipation of seeing Aemond waxed and waned. She thought it would have happened by now—if they were still kids, it surely would have, being at the age where presence around the family was required. She thought of the many places he could be, the things he could be doing, but it was difficult to imagine someone she hadn’t seen in several years. It was nearly impossible to conceive of it, and it only raised her nerves.

Dinner passed along quietly, winter soup and charcuterie being served on a come-and-go basis in the parlor to account for the rush of her family’s arrival and the need for a little bit of flexibility in their schedule. Afterall, there was still much planned for the day: they were going to the ballet, and everyone would be attending.

In front of her vanity, Lucera examined herself in the mirror. She lifted the delicate silver chain to secure it around her neck, the deep crescent moon in its center sitting in the joint of her collarbones. She didn’t try to examine her reasonings for being extra fickle about what she wore, but it was hard to escape his presence in them. It had been so long, and she didn’t want him to think her ugly. He either had changed for the better and would no longer say his cruel thoughts aloud, hadn’t changed and would say that and so much more, or he had gotten worse. A shudder rippled through her as she tried to imagine how that could be possible, but what if it was?

She wanted him to look at her and see how much she had changed, that she was no longer a girl anymore. And perhaps, if he had any lingering thoughts of resentment, that could lend him to realizing that she was no longer deserving of his hostility.

Her nerves from earlier had thawed, and amongst the remains was a newfound confidence. Her mary janes clicked on the sidewalk, her self-assuredness carrying through her legs. She reached into the SUV where her family was waiting for her.

Rhaenyra, holding Aemma on her left leg, reached over and grabbed her hand. “You look radiant, darling.”

Jacaera patted the seat next to her. “Something got your spirits up?”

“Nothing in particular, just had a good day.” And it was true. The day had been knotless. She had been surprised by its ease, and delighted just the same.

Once the tires slowed and the doors slid open, she reached her hand around to grab the frame, the other taking Daemon’s hand to step out of the car. The marquee hung gaudily above them, its essence of performance steeped in its display. She looked around for the Hightowers, who had pulled in ahead of them. She found Alicent’s thick calico fur shawl, trailing to Helaena’s platinum hanging down her back, to…

Her throat seized. Was that really him? His back was set against her, but she could see Aegon’s side profile, meaning the other one must be him.

Jacaera was right, he is tall. She had never pictured him with his hair long. Her sisters poured out of the car to stand alongside her.

Baela was the first to acknowledge it aloud. “Gods, I hardly recognize them.”

The slamming of the car doors must have carried, and he turned around from his mother to face the rest of them.

His hair swung gently, and she caught the moment his eye landed on her. His eyepatch looked menacing, scar tracing just outside of it. While holding her gaze, he upturned his lips into a tight smirk.

Their families approached each other, not too far away to begin with.

Aegon looked delighted to see his cousins, endearing them each. His face had filled out on the edges, and he hadn’t grown an inch. Aemond upheld his apathetic image, looking slightly uninterested, but they knew him better—-he simply always looked that way. Her sisters took turns pulling each of them into hugs with their greetings.

When Aemond reached her, he regarded her for several moments, his dark smile returning. “You’ve changed, Luce.”

She straightened her back, ignoring the way he was openly sliding his eye across her from head to toe. “So have you.”

He surprised her by pulling her deep in his chest, bending his neck down to whisper in her ear. “I haven’t forgotten our little games.” Before she could respond, he released her.

Baela had witnessed the interaction from a few paces away, her eyes still on Aemond, who had gone to greet Rhaenyra. Lucera walked up to her.

She fell into step beside Baela, through the doors, tickets in hand. “What did he say to you?”

Back and forth, she contemplated telling her the truth. Through her childhood, she had never been fully honest through the extent to which he hurt her. Rhaenyra had questioned, Daemon had asked, and her sisters had pushed after her wellbeing once the accidents had been exposed as something more purposeful. Lucera knew her parents were smarter than she, but they also didn’t push the subject when she refused to yield.

She didn’t quite know why, though she supposed it was because she felt she owed Aemond her pain. It was the least she could do for taking his sight. He hadn’t permanently damaged her, afterall. Even though he got close, she reminded herself.

Her mind completed its process, and Lucera would continue her pattern with conflict as she always had. “Just that we all look older now.”

“Hm.” She grabbed Lucera’s arm, looping it in hers, voice quieting. “He looks like a fucking super villian.”

Lucera couldn’t bite back her amusement. “He really does, doesn’t he?”

She didn’t want to think about what else he looked like. Attractive, for one. It felt like a sin to even say it in her mind. Lucera was startled by how menacing he looked, but it suited him. His face was lined in hardness and brutality, his lone purple eye allowing for expression.

His walk bled dominance, something she could do without recognizing. But it was hard to ignore the complex grace in his movements, how every turn of his head and lift of his hand was controlled and measured.

Her eyes kept finding him unwillingly, absorbing the man he had become. Lucera couldn’t help herself, needing to remind herself to keep her gaze anywhere but him. He would notice. Baela would notice. Daemon would notice.

After getting their tickets scanned, she and Baela followed their entourage to their seats. The gilded plasterwork came alive from the walls, creating deep shadows, brightening the jewel tones that sat there. The lattice work was interladened with cherubs holding glowing sconces and foliated candelabras. Figurative and floral murals and abstracts curled and jumped from the ceilings, each framed by golden trim. The proscenium arch jutted out gently from the stage, red curtain dropped to hide the rest of the stage.

Their seats were hoisted on the second floor in the box on stage right. Lucera smiled to herself. She knew whoever had bought their tickets did so knowing that the best view would be from above, so they could see the aerial perspective of the dancer’s intricate formations. If she had to guess, it was probably Alicent.

She had sat in the first row of seats, between Jacaera and Baela, while he sat in the second, off to the side, closer to the stage. The curvature of the seats allowed for her to see him out of the corner of her eye, his side profile unmistakable. As she gauged where he was in relation to her, he caught her eye. He brazenly smirked towards her, and then looked away. She ran her fingers over the front of her dress, needing the movement to keep her grounded. Shortly after, the curtains opened and she breathed relief at the comfort that she would have something else to focus on.

It wasn’t as easy as she had hoped.

As they progressed through the suites, Lucera was trying to tame her gaze, pulling and forcing it to remain ahead on anything but him. There was so much to look at, too—the dancer’s tutus and tights, skin and hair was alight with glitter catching every ray of stage light. The way they moved, their arms pouring up and down, their legs fluttering across the stage. Glissade en arriere to arabesque. The live orchestra in the pit, the sliding of their bows, the dancing of their fingers. She had so much to choose from. And it worked for a time, until she remembered his presence, and she had to pull her gaze forward again.

He caught her once or twice, and returned her wandering eyes with the same haughty smile.

She didn’t know if it should scare her, but it definitely made her feel something. Like she wanted to push the button to reveal a secret. Perhaps it was curiosity; she was a woman now, and can’t possibly be pushed around like she used to. He wouldn’t kill her. Not now at least. It would have had to happen years ago, when he was still a child and could get away with “accidental” murder. At present, he’d go to prison for manslaughter. Right? He has to know that. And he himself is a man grown, who has risen above such ideas. Right?

The curtains were drawn, they stood from their seats, her family quickly ushering everyone to get back to the house as fast as possible.

Once alone in the comforts of her bedroom, she unzipped, unlaced, and undid every button and tie on her clothing, releasing more than just the tension it had held on her skin. The whirlwind of their evening had finally come to an end. She had seen him, and it had been somewhat eventful, but she had expected nothing less.

------------

The next morning after an uneventful breakfast, Viserys had called all of his grandchildren to the kitchens. He ensured they knew their presence was mandatory.

“You kids haven’t seen each other in so long. It’s time you bond again.” It was hard to tell what the room-wide cringe was from: being called kids, or being told they must bond over something of Viserys’ choosing.

Lucera looked around the massive kitchen, and knew immediately what they were going to be doing.

Viserys waved his hand. “I dismissed the staff early today. Instead, you all are going to be making our family’s holiday cookies!”

Joanie squealed in excitement, diverting the attention away from Aemond and Aegon, who both rolled their eyes louder than she’d ever seen it done.

“Why not. I love baking!” Rhaena perked.

Viserys stepped out to be more directly in front of them, looking at each of them intently. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Aegon and Jacaera, you two will do our peanut butter kisses. Aemond and Lucera, I want you two doing our sugar cut-outs. Daeron and Joanie, you two are in charge of snowballs. Rhaena, Helaena, and Baela, you three will do our gingerbread cookies. You’ll need the extra person since they’re a lot of work.” He gestured towards the back wall. “I’ve had the cooks set out all the ingredients, and there should be plenty of room for all of you.”

Lucera didn’t know quite what to do. Her intimidation of him was preventing her from moving her feet. Let alone, she didn’t know if Aemond hated this idea, and she didn’t want to feel his rejection. But then again, very little sounded better than fresh cookies.

Joanie and Daeron had practically run across the kitchen, as if it was a race to see who could finish the fastest. Lucera smiled at her youthful enthusiasm.

“Are you going to just stand there and look dumb?” Aemond’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She looked up at him. “No, no of course.”

“Of course you’re going to stand there and look dumb?”

Lucera grumbled. “You know what I meant.”

They walked over to the corner of the kitchen. Lucera knew this recipe by heart, having made it many times the past several years at Dragonstone.

“We need to work the butter, first. Cream it up a bit.”

She began unfolding the wax off of the butter.

“They’re quite simple. I don’t know why he wants the two of us to do it. A child could make these by themselves.”

Lucera took the flat end of the spatula and smashed the butter into smaller pieces in the bowl. “You know why he wants us to do it together.”

Aemond pulled out the bag of flour, dipping the cup deep in the bag. “I suppose. Funny thing for him to act like he cares so much about bonding time.” He swiped a knife off of the top of the measuring cup. “So this is what bonding looks like?”

Lucera scoffed. “It could be, if you actually acted like you wanted to be here.”

Across the kitchen, she could hear Jacaera scolding Aegon over the bag of hershey’s kisses. “You do realize we need some of those to actually make the cookies? Save some for the rest of us.”

Aemond paused, mulling over his next words carefully. “I could be doing something else.”

Lucera looked over at Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who were giggling over the molasses and brown sugar.

“And what might that be?” She questioned mockingly. While he poured in the sugar and flour, she began mixing in the butter.

“Working.” He turned to face her, dipping his head to look down at her from their close proximity. Sarcasm sat between his next words. “Ever heard of it?”

Lucera was slightly ruffled by this, and even though she caught on to his tone, wasn’t willing to go along with the act. “You don’t know the slightest thing about me.”

He stood behind her to grab something on the other side, and whether it was for stability or otherwise, he put his hand on her waist. She tried not to make any sudden movements to imply she was thrown off or affected by this gesture, and could not say if she was successful or not. His hand was large, fingers stretching across the right side of her lower back. Just breathe. She tried to tamper down her blush, not wanting him to know that he flustered her. It would only make her more of a target.

“Twas just a joke, Lucie.” He smirked, pulling away, and warping his fingers to the newly formed dough in the bowl.

She tried not to watch the way his deft hands worked the dough into a ball. Needing to prove she was not in fact bothered, she replied, “Regardless, I will have you know that I’m in the line of succession. Me, Jacaera, and Baela are all going to uphold Targaryen International Banking after Rhaenyra and Daemon.”

To her surprise, Aemond showed her possibly the first form of respect she had ever received from him. “It’s an honor to not only be a part of our family, but also uphold its greatness.”

Lucera pulled out the various cookie cutters, clearing her throat. They had been apart all this time, their secret torture games known truly just between them. She knew she should hate him, but she didn’t. And the unfortunate circumstances had decided that he must grow into a desirable devil. But she can’t think about that right now. Looking at her cookie shape options, she decided her favorite was the Christmas tree. “I heard you’re inheriting Hightower Associates.”

He smiled, and even though it was tight lipped, she could tell it meant something to him. “Yes. Otto most likely has another decade in him to run it, but it will be mine once he is no longer fit for it. Thank the gods, Aegon and Helaena would destroy it.”

Lucera looked over at her sister and Aegon. He looked at her with light in his eyes, while she double checked each dough ball to ensure they were the same size. As nice as the scene was, his momentary calm was deceiving. She laughed quietly in her throat imagining him being put in charge.

Their own dough had been rolled out, and they began stamping it with the cookie cutter. “I’m sure you will do the business much good. You can be…” Lucera looked for the right words, and wondered if it was even a good idea to remind him of his nature in the first place. “Quite intense. And cutthroat.”

He paused at her implicit acknowledgement of the past, looking at her directly once again. His chest was at her eye level, even though she pried her eyes upwards to meet his. The soap on his neck had a clean, sharp scent. “Yes. I suppose I haven’t changed much.” He waited for any kind of reaction, but she figured it best to not give him any. Lest he get any real ideas.

Lucera slid the cookies into the oven, the warmth heating up her arms. She vaguely recalled when Aemond had tried to shut her arms in the frame of the oven, and startled herself with his proximity.

He noticed her pulling away from the oven with fear in her eyes. “Relax. My days of trying to scar you are over.” Aemond poured a small stream of milk over the powdered sugar on the stove. “Besides, my hands are busy. And there’s people here.”

It wasn’t until she finished sliding the tray in the oven and closed the door that she processed his meaning.

She looked up at him, eyes widened. “You’re not going to…?” Lucera didn’t say it out loud, for she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

He continued stirring, the smell of the heated sugar between them. “We’re both adults now. I wouldn’t be so senseless.”

The tension she had been holding around him had faded, filled in with relief. “I don’t know why,” she chuckled, “I just didn’t know what to expect.”

His side-eye landed on her, but he was playing lighthearted. “You wound me Lucera. Surely I would hope you think higher of me than that.”

“Hm.” She smirked at him, wanting to joke with him as he had to her. “You’ll just have to prove how smart you are then.”

His face held an unreadable expression, but she still counted anything besides scowling as progress.

The butter, sugar, and flour were melding together in the oven, releasing a heavenly smell. Lucera released some of the tension she had held around him. Perhaps this new chapter of their lives could strengthen their family, instead of tearing it apart as their childhood had.

Reading the golden edges of the cookies, Lucera determined they were finished and removed them out of the oven without fear of Aemond shutting her arm in. The royal icing was ready, and she put them in the refrigerator so the cookies were able to cool before they could put the icing on.

A large guffaw of laughter exploded from the other side of the kitchen, where Joanie and Daeron were saddled with powdered sugar. It had lodged itself in the creases of their faces, deepening their smile lines. In their attempt to brush it off their faces, they only served to spread the sugary dust to every surface in their vicinity.

Daeron, upon realizing the blessing this was, ran to Aegon with his snowy sugared hands and started furiously wiping them on the back of Aegon’s sweater.

Having been attacked by the enemy in a blind spot, Aegon was initially at the disadvantage. But, once he turned around, he used his height and weight to throw Daeron to the ground.

This move might have deterred many from another attack, but Daeron was a Targaryen, afterall. He grabbed onto Aegon’s leg, not letting go. It was an advanced move, leaving the victim—Aegon—unable to do much else than furiously try to peel him away.

Joanie made a jump to his other leg despite Aegon’s protests for her to not get involved. The two clung to his calves, anchoring him to the floor, giggling in victory. Aegon ceased his complaining and sighed in defeat.

“Anyone want to help me?” Aegon moaned.

Jacaera was busy pressing what was left of the hershey’s kisses into the cookies. She shrugged. “I can’t, I have to do this while they’re fresh out of the oven.” Besides, she was too amused by the situation.

“Sorry, I don’t want to get powdered sugar all over my new pants.” Baela shouted from across the kitchen.

Aemond was also pleased by his brothers, and after hesitating a few moments too long, began long strides towards the scene.

He had nearly reached Aegon, but once Daeron had peeked his head around Aegon’s knee to see the long legs of his other brother coming towards them, he flung himself off of Aegon and skittered across the floor. Joanie was quick to follow.

Once the cookies were all primed and pretty—to the best of their ability, at least—Lucera padded up the steps with a giggling Jacaera. In the parlor, Rhaenyra was drinking tea with Alicent. They must have heard of Viserys’ plan, as they looked at Lucera with concern, subtly checking over her limbs and face for any signs of harm as they had done when she was younger.

Alicent leaned over with furrowed brows and express interest, Rhaenyra had worry in her eyes. “How was baking my darlings?”

Knowing that they truly wished to know of her wellbeing, Lucera was relieved that for once around the holidays, she could tell them the truth. “It was good! No unlucky burns or anything! Just tasty cookies.”

They brought a plate over with all of their treats.

Rhaenyra beamed at her daughters. “I see gingerbreads, sugar cut-outs, and—?”

Jacaera leaned forward. “Peanut butter kisses. Aegon ate half of the hershey’s chocolates, so we didn’t have enough to put on top of all of them. Those ones are just plain peanut butter cookies.”

Alicent rolled her eyes through her smile, lovingly joking. “Of course he did, the little twat. I’m sure they’re still delicious.”

“Once he stopped eating the candy and started participating, he really enjoyed baking. Does he ever go down to the kitchens to bake?”

Lucera raised her eyebrows. She knew exactly what made Aegon so interested in baking earlier, and it wasn’t the sweets.

“He’s never thought it interesting before. Perhaps he was just happy to see everyone.” Alicent had toned down her surprise at the idea that he enjoyed the experience, having a mother’s sense of what was really at play. Her and Lucera shared a knowing glance, Jacaera none the wiser.

“And you Lucera?” Alicent had turned to face her.

“Oh yes! Aemond and I got along quite well. He’s an arse, but it suits him.” The sense of relief she glimpsed earlier had returned, and the weight of lying no longer chained to her. She was able to be genuine without having to pretend. It was a welcome feeling.

“He’s a proud man, that’s for sure. I still don’t know where he inherited his arrogance.” Alicent chimed.

Rhaenyra was put at ease with the grace of her features, always knowing the truth of her daughter. A shadow of skepticism remained, but she was optimistic that their maturation had changed things. “I’m glad you had a good time, darling.”

At least for the time being, any fears she had could be put to rest.

It had been a hard period of time when she had lied to her, both of them knowing that there was something much deeper to her words. It had been why, without too much evidence, Rhaenyra had decided it best that they spend a few holidays alone at Dragonstone. Viserys had insisted that they return each year, believing that it best for the family to be together when there was tension. Namely, after the accident where Aemond lost his eye, and his consequent aggression towards Lucera. Rhaenyra could only look at the truth in her daughter’s eyes for so long.

He hadn’t done anything out in the open, but he was occasionally sloppy. He was only a child after all, and was still learning how to keep a victim silent. He was lucky it was Lucera, who in her docility and self-blaming from the accident, let him act as he saw fit.

Her least favorite memory was when he held her head over the tub in the basement filled with water. He had grabbed her hair and held her face under water, keeping it there until her squirms softened to near limpness. He would then pull her up again, allowing for her to catch her breath before repeating the cycle. She had silently trusted him to let her live. It didn’t make the moments she spent choked underwater any less terrifying.

That had been the last time she saw him. Rhaenyra had remembered her coming up the stairs, face flushed, edges of her hair wet. Lucera recalled telling her that she slipped and fell in the snow outside, but her eyes had given her away. Even after much pressure, Rhaenyra still wasn’t sure what had happened, but she knew Aemond was involved and that Lucera looked like she had been through a torture sequence. Which, of course, she had.

But those days were behind them. He had said it himself.

------------

Later in the evening, after a light dinner, a particularly competitive game of Scrabble that nearly ended with Daemon’s knife at Aemond’s throat, and a Hallmark movie that Viserys claimed would “calm everyone down” (which it hadn’t—not entirely—although the two had slowly united across the one hour and thirty five minute screen time against their hatred for such movies), the family had dispersed and found their ways to bed.

Lucera was tucked in, nearly drowning in the comforter, just how she liked it. There was just one thing—she needed water. Her eyes had closed, her body tired and unwilling to go downstairs. But her throat was scratching for relief, and no amount of willing herself to sleep had changed it.

She skimpered down the steps, her long fuzzy socks lightening the blow of her feet. All of the lights had been turned off, and she relied on the underlights of the cabinets to light her way.

Under the fridge light, she filled up her cup.

The silence was broken by the stream coming from the fridge, and then by footsteps coming near. Lucera tried to cover up what little she could, as a simple t-shirt and underwear had been all she needed in the privacy of her room. She hoped whoever it was wouldn’t look too closely or scold her for being so indecent.

She would be gone in a moment anyway.

Putting her water glass in the sink, she turned to go down the hallway when she saw the illumination of platinum hair in the dark.

“Aemond.” And even though she whispered, the surprise was not lacking in her voice.

“Lucera. It’s getting late.” He was stepping closer to her, his voice soft.

“I was just a bit thirsty. I’m going back to bed now.” She tried to step around him, but he blocked her way with his arm against the wall.

“You know, before I saw you I wondered if I’d continue our little games.” He glazed his eye over her near-nakedness. “I thought I might not. And then I saw you, this pretty little thing, and I realized that we can have so much more fun together.”

She knew what he meant by it, but tried to ignore it for the moment. “But I thought you said you wouldn’t—”

“I said I wouldn’t scar you. I never said I wouldn’t do other things.” He grabbed a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers. “Oh how you’ve grown, Lucera.”

She tried to grab at the wrist of his hand in her hair, but he only grabbed onto her wrists instead, pushing her backwards towards a door in the hallway. He fumbled with the knob before throwing her in, the force of it landing her on the floor.

Lucera pulled her hair out of her face and stood up. “You didn’t need to be so rough with me.”

He grabbed her chin domineeringly soft. “Look at me, Lucera.”

Her lip quivered and she looked up at him, her large doe eyes unable to prevent her from looking nothing but innocent.

He looked deep in her eyes, commanding her submission with nothing but a look. “You always let me torture you, sweet little thing.”

All breath in her body halted, every movement, every beat of blood. The silence around her grew louder, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

“But now I want to do other things to you. I’m still using your body, of course, just in a different way. And you’re still going to listen to me, just like you always have?” Aemond tilted her jaw upwards to the right, then moved it to the left, as if he was examining her face from every angle.

The blood moving through her veins got thicker, her heart quickening its pace. Lucera quietly admitted to herself that she was excited at the idea that he could want her that way. Did he really think her attractive enough to want? He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Did he? Surely he didn’t want her like that.

He sneered in her face, clearly finding her dumbfoundedness amusing. “Look at you. Big eyes just looking up at me, waiting for validation. I knew you’d do anything I’d ask. Hells, you’ll probably enjoy it too.”

Lucera didn’t know how he had such a hold on her. How could he get away with talking to her like this? Why did she let him? Why was her belly aching with heat? She could feel her arousal dripping along her slit, sitting warm in her panties.

She pulled every last string of dignity together and tightened her hold to say, “No, Aemond. You’re not allowed to treat me this way.” and tried her hardest to turn away from him.

But, he was quick to react, and immediately pulled her backside flush against him, arms locked across her neck and midsection. “Squirm all you want. I see how your eyes hold nothing but submission for me, they always have. Is it guilt? Or something else?” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t believe you wouldn’t enjoy every last drop of anything I give you. I’ll prove it to you right now.”

He moved his hand knowingly across her hip bones, giving them a hearty squeeze before sliding his fingers down her thigh to hike up her skirt. Her panic was felt immediately as she put her back and shoulders into every push and shove she gave him. “No, no no no, don’t—”

“Why? Are you worried about what I’ll find?” She wasn’t able to break out of the cage that was his strength, and his fingers gently trailed across the thin fabric hiding her entrance. What little barrier she had did a poor job of concealing her heated wetness.

He began lightly circling her clit, bending his face into her neck. “Tsk tsk tsk. Just as I thought, Lucie.”

She whimpered. “I just, I just am confused.”

“Hmm? I don’t think your body is confused. Your body wants me, Lucie. It wants me inside you. It’s all soaking and ready to take me.”

“You’re just so mean to me. I can’t let you do this if you’re mean to me.”

Aemond chuckled, feeling her melt into his touch as his deft fingers pleasured her. “You’ve always been so good at letting me take out my frustrations on you. This is no different, Lucie.”

She whimpered in his arms, unable to control the profound pleasure he was thrusting upon her. And it was him. There was something so enrapturing about his presence. She wanted to be engulfed in it, to feed off of it. But he had too much power—it wasn’t fair, he had always had the upper hand.

He slipped his fingers underneath the constraints of her underwear, immediately finding her slick folds. He gathered some of the wetness he found there and brought it up to her clit, where he rubbed gentle circles against her. “You’re soaking for me Lucie. I want to hear you submit to me. Your body is begging you.”

She whimpered again. The pleasure was too great, his weight pressed against her from all sides. Lucera needed more. Her resolve and rationality were slipping, disintegrating into a state of utter obedience, the teasing becoming too much to bear. It was like he was drowning her again.

“Anything, I’ll do anything, Aemond. I need this,” her voice squeaked from under his arm.

He laughed darkly in her ear before licking it, the warm sensation filling out through the rest of her body. “You will listen and do as I say, yes?”

“Yes. I swear it.” She cried.

“Good. On your knees, sweet girl.”

Her eyes got even bigger as she received his command. Lucera hesitated, looking up at him in his utter assertiveness. The look in his eye alone made her knees buckle.

Softly finding the most comfortable position she could on her knees, she tilted up her chin, attempting to hold as much dignity as possible. He grabbed both of her cheeks with each hand, fat pudging out between his thumbs and forefingers.

“You’re going to swallow my cock, do you understand? And when I decide I want to fuck your throat, I will.” He moved his right thumb down to her chin. “And if you bite, we can play one of our old games.”

She wouldn’t have bit him, but she was old enough to realize he got off on the power he had over her. And yet, she didn’t have to fake her submission. It was real, and it soaked her through.

With that, he let go of her face and gave her a playful slap on the cheek.

His hands remained at his sides, and she took that to mean that she must be the one to remove his pants.

Lucera tried to conceal the hesitation to approach his cock, but she couldn’t help herself. The bulge reaching across his leg was considerable, and she was unsure about trying to stuff something so large in her throat.

When she finally collected the courage to pull down the flannel in her fingertips, she was truly faced with the reality of such an act.

He was beautiful. Of course, even his cock has to be perfect. She took her hand, and worked the warm skin up and down, twisting her palm ever so slightly.

“Suck.” He said bluntly.

“I’ll try, but I don’t know how I’m going to—”

“If you can’t figure it out, I think pounding your throat will do the trick.” He interjected, his hand landing in her hair firmly.

This drove her to action, as she wanted to maintain as much control in the situation as possible. She pushed the head past her lips, his salty precum landing on her tongue. Her jaw expanded as much as it could, and she pushed herself to swallow his length.

Lucera could already feel the sides of her mouth being triggered to wetness by the intrusion, and she was thankful for it. She held onto the base to steady herself, and she began slowly moving back and forth, lathing her tongue on the bottom of his cock.

She could feel his hands shift in her hair as he played with it gently, combing his fingers through.

“You’re such a good girl, Lucera”

His voice felt like pure encouragement, and his validation was something she had never felt before. Lucera decided she liked that feeling.

She pushed herself deeper on him as her throat warmed up, but was still unable to fit it all. She tried using her hand to make up for what she couldn’t reach, and although she wished she could deep throat him, she was proud that she had made it this far.

He grabbed her hair a bit more assertively, and guided her up and down with a touch more of force. “You’re taking it so well, your throat wraps around me perfectly.”

Her eyes had begun to slightly water, but she still tried to connect their eyes. She had read in a magazine that boys liked that.

He began to move her head even more strongly, and pushed her throat further on his cock. She gagged, but he only moaned in his chest, the sensation squeezing his cock in her throat.

Lucera could hardly see, her tears clouding her vision. Her saliva gathered around her lips and slopped down her chin as she felt him push deep into her throat.

“Look at you, on your knees for me. This is where you belong.” He thrust into her mouth, holding her by the back of her head. As rough as he was, Lucera found that she just wanted to impress him. To show him that she wasn’t weak, and that she was capable.

“Fuck, Lucera.” He moaned above her, his breath deepening. With animalistic impulse, he worked her throat with lewd hunger, before pulling her as hard as he could towards his hips.

She knew what was about to happen, and although she was still choking on his cock, braced herself. Lucera felt his length throb in her mouth as he unloaded down her gullet and straight to her belly.

Having ceased his brutal thrusts, Aemond brushed her hair gently. “Swallow all of it, Lucie.”

She subconsciously tried to swallow around it, but it was difficult to move much of anything.

After holding her there for a few more moments, he released her. She stuttered backwards slightly, coughing and gulping for air.

He tucked himself back beneath his waistband, and bent down next to her. He took her shirt and wiped off the excess spit that had gathered around her chin, and then moved it up to wipe her eyes.

“You’re gorgeous on your knees, you know that?” His hand dragged languidly against her inner thigh, towards her underwear. She inhaled deeply at his movements, canting her hips to meet his hand.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you?” He tilted his head, looking down at her below him devilishly. “My cock down your throat only made you more soaked, hmm?”

His words burned into her pleasure, and Lucera couldn’t help but whimper. His fingers on her moved in light circles on her clit, warping the pleasure building inside her.

“Tell me how it felt in your throat.” His voice poured over her. She drank in each syllable of every lewd word spitting out of his mouth like ambrosia.

“You felt heavy on my tongue,” Lucera said, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t know how I was going to take it.”

“Hmm, that’s right.” He drawled. “It’s not easy taking a thick down your throat is it?”

“N-no.” She mewled.

“But you did a good job,” he brushed his thumb above her stomach. “You didn’t miss a drop.”

She panted as he loomed above her, playing her body like an instrument. She had already been so worked up, so much ache already inside her, that she knew her orgasm was coming. Aemond must have noticed too, for he picked up his pacing to the exact tempo she needed.

“Cum on my fingers, Lucie.”

She didn’t need anything further than his voice to send her over the edge as her eyes rolled back in her head, orgasmic pleasure bursting deep in her belly. She did her best to hold back the amplitude of the cries in her throat lest someone hear her.

The euphoria rippled through her body, and she could feel his satisfaction at her pleasure. After a few more moments, the lingering contentment was joined by a new wave of drowsiness.

It was late.

Lucera opened her eyes. Aemond stood up, pulling her up with him.

“Sleep well, Lucie.” He opened the door, gave her a quick slap on her ass, and walked towards the kitchen.

Her haze carried her to bed, where she unceremoniously slung herself under the covers, half-unconscious already.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x lucera velaryon #aemond targaryen x female!Lucerys Velaryon #smut #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x Fem!Lucerys #aemond targaryen fanfic

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i-politely-disagree · 2 months

Text

Sprace- Call

MODERN AU TW: Swearing??

(I've never posted on here lol)

Spot cringed as his phone call was answered. Usually, it just went straight to the far too familiar “Hi it’s Racetrack! Don’t leave a message!” voicemail to hurt him even more with the fact that he was either blocked, or Race was declining all his calls. A harsh ‘What do you want?’ may not have been ideal, but Spot still smiled softly at the sound of his ex’s voice.

"Hey…Race," He started. The same words he had said almost every day a month ago. Throwing his bag down as he got back from work, striking up conversations at 2 a.m even though they both needed to be up early, Starting a call much like this one if anything happened. "Do you still have my white shirt with the sleeves?"

When Race’s phone displayed Spot’s caller ID, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, maybe an explanation that it was a dare, or maybe some tearful confession about how his love never died. Anything with more emotion than requesting an old shirt.

“Um… I’ll look around.” The conversation was too stiff, too formal. Race fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt that definitely wasn’t Spot’s (it was) that he was wearing and paced around the couch he slept on.

“What do you need it for?”

He’d never admit it, but Race missed Spot more than he could tell. Hearing his voice again was painful, but something to feel. He had been a mess the last month, living with his best friend, missing sleep and working his ass off to help pay the rent when it was paying the rent that got him into this mess. Spot had walked out after the topic of money had come up, only after many anger-clouded words had been thrown between him and Race. Just thinking about it, Race could taste the regret and adrenaline and feel the knot of codependency tighten as it had done that night when he realized how alone and helpless he was. Even though he hadn’t anticipated a break-up, it wasn’t like Race was expecting-

“A wedding,” Spot answered coldly and quickly. Dwelling on love around him wasn’t going to help him swallow the lump in his throat.

He regretted walking out every day. He knew deep down, that he could’ve walked back in at any moment with nothing fixed, another argument ignored, but weeks passed and Race lost the apartment he could only afford with Spot’s help. Spot lost the one stable thing in his life, the one person he felt like he could talk to, the stupidity, wittiness, energy and affection that came with Race and he missed it more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was his chance to salvage any scraps of a relationship but didn’t know how to begin.

“I’m sorry.” It was a struggle to force the words out of his mouth, but Spot managed to sound a lot more stable than he felt.

Race’s reply was so emotionless it hurt. No sadness, not even a quiver in his voice, no hope. Just a bland question reminding Spot he’d made more than enough mistakes;

“About what?”

“Um, This. Calling you, acting like nothing’s happened, acting like I don’t care.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Spot knew he would have to address the elephant in the room.

“...And leaving. I was- I am so stupid for walking out. It sounds pathetic but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I really lo- I really loved you.”

Race’s soft smile threatened to fall at the use of past tense. His mind tried to object, but a smirk tugged at his lips and words crawled out.

“You miss me.” He observed, a mix of teasing and astonishment now unmistakable in his voice

“No, I just really want my shirt,” Spot said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if Race could see him over the phone. “Yes, I fucking miss you.”

Spot hated himself for giving in that easily. But at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere or anyone for that matter.

Warm hope bloomed through Race at the less-than-heartfelt confession, sudden longing for the one person he thought he’d never be allowed to long for again. A million hazy emotions flew through his mind but he couldn’t articulate everything he was feeling and couldn’t force every heavy sentiment through the phone. He needed to know this was genuine before pouring his heart out.

Spot’s finger was over the ‘End Call’ button when Race interrupted their silence, “But you said-”

“I said a lot of things,” Spot cut him off, “We both did. But I’d bet this month's rent you didn’t mean half of it.”

Race wanted to object, but it was true. He hadn’t meant anything close. And while he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t regret it again, heavy words slid off his tongue;

“I miss you too. But look, we can’t just…go back to whatever we had a month ago.”

“Bad communication and not-yet-healed commitment issues?”

Race exhaled deeply, “Yeah, that. But I can’t- I mean- I’ve got your shirt. Please just come and get it so we can at least talk in person.”

Spot running down apartment stairs full speed to reunite with his ex-boyfriend was probably something countless medical professionals would advise against but, quite frankly, he was more than willing to break a wrist or two for another shot. He managed a couple of breathless words that were essentially just ‘See you soon’ before falling into his car in a haze of nerves and emotions pretty damn close to excitement. Serious conversations weren’t his forté but were better than a familiar voicemail.

#sprace #newsies #newsies fanfiction #spot x race #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #fanfiction #my fic

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luaspersona · 1 year

Text

Seoul Town Road | kth (m)

pairing ↠ horseback riding instructor!taehyung x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; idiots to lovers; light fluff; pwp; crack. summary ↠ having a sore ass on a Saturday after spending a day riding with Taehyung is nothing like you anticipated. rating ↠ +18 | minors DO NOT interact warnings ↠ tae was supposed to be a himbo, but reader is the stupid one; ig this doesn’t qualify 100% as reader insert, the reader is very black coded, but it’s still vague enough; jimin’s a lil shit; reader likes keke palmer (‘cus of good taste ofc 💅🏽); reader is in denial; bickering; crying, but not the way you think; i make one joke about being in the closet so there’s that; taehyung’s hands 😩; there’s an innocent massage that turns sexual; explicit smut: super soft dom!taehyung, a LOT of praise kink, teasing (i can’t help myself), begging (borderline desperation), light dirty talk, body worship, tit play, fingering, unprotected sex, slow sex and that’s a WARNING, brief oral sex (m. receiving), cum eating. word count ↠ 8.5k note ↠ hey, y’all 🤠 i’ll casually pretend this didn’t take forever for me to finish and that i haven’t vanished on the meantime, so let’s not talk about it *clears throat* ok, so… it all started with this video, then i saw this, and here we are. also, pls ignore the corny ass title, it was provisional until i couldn’t come up with anything better, then it suddenly wasn’t. note² ↠ always need to thank @uarmymoonlight for being the most precious being ever and helping me outline and organize my thots on this one, ily 🤟🏽 note³ ↠ also, thank you @badgalsgetinfree again for making me this beautiful! banner 🥺 you’re really talented and i appreciate you! and thank you @eoieopda and @namjinsmoonchile for beta reading this and taking their time to make sure this wasn't complete shit lol

navigation | masterlist | permanent taglist | tell me your thoughts ♡

It seemed like a really good idea at first. And, granted, it was almost fun: Taehyung’s firm grip on your hips and that large palm warming your thigh was definitely something, but goddamnit if your butt isn’t sore as fuck.

Now, here you lay, ridiculous groans muffled by the soft fabric of your comforter as you try to balance a hot water bag over your hurt ass. And the worst part? He seemed so unimpressed. Meeting your eyes with nothing but amusement at your pathetic riding attempt.

That settles it. You’re never horseback riding again.

“For the record, I think you’re being pathetic about this,”Jimin says.

“Shit, I think the pain must be affecting my memory too, ‘cus I don’t remember asking you a damn thing, man.”

He rolls his eyes, reclining on the chair.

“I don’t need your permission to tell you that you’re being stupid.”

“Well, then I choose to ignore you.”

He huffs. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

“Then give up already.”

“Girl, just look at you. You have a water bag on your ass and you haven’t even fucked the guy.”

“You know what, maybe I just like the warmth.”

“Stop being stubborn. I bet Taehyung would be more than down to fuck you.”

You groan, burying your face in your comforter. “It’s not that simple.”

“Except it is.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’ve fucked everyone you’ve met, what’s so different about him?”

“Are you slutshaming me?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“I’m shy-shaming you for not fucking the guy you’ve been pining over for the last six months. Quite the opposite.”

“I’m not pining. I do not pine.”

“Right, ‘cus you always wanted to learn how to ride a fucking horse.” He rolls his eyes.

…

Yeah, you don’t really have an answer to that.

To be honest? You didn’t even know horseback riding instructor was a real job. Much less that there is a stud farm near campus that offers part-time slots for college students that are too broke to care about employment rights. But then, Taehyung used his first paycheck to gift Yoongi an overpriced craft whiskey for his birthday and buy Jimin an original Celine sneaker for their “wonderful six months of friendship” — being a perfectly good example of why, even employed, college students stay broke.

Add that piece of knowledge to an ungodly amount of alcohol and you wake up to months of avoiding major embarrassments shattered by a “hoe much 4 u 2 teacj mr how 2 ridw?” text. And sure, you could’ve just dismissed it, said you were drunk or whatnot — but you were completely sober when you confirmed the date. The messages you exchanged after were pretty tame. He told you he could give you a free first lesson (“you’re a friend!”), explained to you how it worked, arranged some riding clothes for you and asked if Saturday was a good day. It wasn’t. But fuck it, you made it work.

It’s not like you and Taehyung never hung out. As far as he was concerned, you were friends. You drink together, you tease him, he sometimes teases you back, but never just the two of you. Never after you accidentally called out his name in bed two months ago — resulting in a pretty pissed and unremarkable hookup and a new feeling to shove to the dark corners of your mind until it finally disappeared.

Except it never did. And then, before you knew it, you were taking forty minutes to choose what underwear to use at a goddamn stud farm (you went with lace, by the way — you never know).

The class itself was terrible. Taehyung had to prioritize the hundreds of kids with cowboy hats whose parents had actually paid to be there, so it took around two hours for him to finally remember you were there too. He then introduced you to a pretty horse, told you her name was Princess and you allowed yourself to pretend that every call of her name was aimed at you.

“Listen,” Jimin’s voice pierces through your thoughts. “I’ll give you some tough love now, so pay attention and just stop being nasty with me. I’m on your side here.”

“... Okay?”

“You’re my best friend, and I know you have that weird ‘the shittier the better’ philosophy going on, and I can’t change that. But if you’re not doing anything about your crush, then stop acting weird around him, ‘cus I’m sure he’s noticing. Just… I don’t know, put your big girl pants on, accept that you’re into the guy and move the fuck on.”

“I’m not in—” your rebuttal dies in your tongue at the glare Jimin directs at you. You scoff. “Whatever.”

“Have you talked since yesterday?”

“No.”

You're lying, of course. Earlier that morning you got a little consolation prize.

[08:48am] taehyung 🥵🐎: yesterday was nice! it's been a while since i taught an actual adult lol

[08:50am] taehyung 🥵🐎: how was is for you?

[09:11am] you: it was nice

[09:32am] you: i’m sore af now, tho 💀

Hours later and your text stood unanswered — making the twenty minutes you spent overthinking it even more pathetic.

Jimin narrows his gaze.

“You didn’t say anything stupid, right?”

Well.

“Depends on your definition of stupid.”

“Something like saying he smells really good for a vet major.”

You groan. “I said that once, and it was meant as a compliment.”

He offers you a pointed look. Eyebrows raising just slightly as if to say “I rest my case”, before a notification lights up his phone.

“How’s your butt?”

You welcome the change in subject.

“Better.”

“Good. I have to go now.” A small smile tugs on his lips. “Have a date.”

“Ohhh” you smirk teasingly, “on your way to win someone’s heart?”

“You bet.”

“Nice. Have fun, Chim.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you later.” He gathers his things and places a kiss on the top of your head. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. Love you too.”

“Great.” He steps out of your dorm, glancing at you one last time and saying “stop being stupid”, before leaving your room.

Jimin clearly overestimates you.

The next hour is spent with occasional reheatings of the bag and apprehensive checks of your phone — and it doesn’t take long until Jimin’s words spark a frustration deep inside you.

You know what? You’re not into Taehyung. No. Absolutely not. No way.

You pride yourself on being on control of shit like this, with a terrible and meticulous track record of only fucking people you pick up from trash — bonus points if they treat you like shit afterwards to ruin any sparkling possibility of feelings.

Actually, coming to think of it, it’s probably just his kindness that gets you confused.

…

Of course, it could also be his eyes.

Or his deep voice.

Shit, but there’s also that boxy smile, tho…

Ugh.

Fuck Jimin and his preposterously hot friend. And fuck whoever is knocking on your door at such a vulnerable time.

You groan into your pillow, deciding in no time not to answer it; the bag on your butt too warm to give up for that weird ass finance major from the first floor that’s still trying to get you to invest in his crypto currency or whatever the hell that powerpoint meant. Besides, you look like shit, and you ain’t gonna let—

Your thoughts are interrupted by your ringtone. Normally, you’d patiently wait for whoever’s calling to give up and text you instead, like a decent fucking person, but when you grab your phone and Taehyung’s name flashes on the screen a surge of panic runs through your body. Before you can even process what you’re doing, your fingers move to decline the call.

You drop your phone on the bed. Staring it down for a full minute before impulsively reaching for it and hitting the call button under Taehyung’s contact.

He picks up after the first ring.

“Did you just hang up on me?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Damn. Cold.”

“Why are you calling?”

“Wanted to ask you something real quick. You live in Bang Si-hyuk Hall, right?”

“You could’ve just texted me for that.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Second floor, dorm thirteen right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Right. Are you home?”

“Yeah?”

“Great! Can you open your door?”

“Huh?” God, you’re so eloquent.

“I’m here.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Pretty sure I am. Here, let me just—” another knock hits your door, “hear that? That’s me.”

You gasp, immediately jumping off the bed and fighting to stifle the subsequent groan at the way your bottoms sting with the abrupt movement.

“Shit–I, uhm, wait a sec.” You say, before ending the call.

Your face is all puffy from being pressed on the pillow the whole day and you’re still wearing your pajamas. You control the urge to cry at the prospect of Taehyung seeing you like this, seeking some sort of consolation as you run your fingers over your eyebrows, in a feeble attempt to make something look presentable.

You cross the space to your door, quickly scrunching your hair before opening it.

“Hey,” he smiles. When the universe created Kim Taehyung, there was no mercy, because how on Earth can a man look this fucking good? And as his deep eyes fix on your chest, you can feel your brain trying to come up with its own syntax. “Where the hell did you get this from?”

You follow his gaze, landing on your less than flattering cropped pajama top that says “some people ride the crazy train, I drive that bitch”. You grimace.

“Why? Not to your taste?”

“You know what? You’re almost pulling it off.”

“Almost? This is my best look.” You sure hope not. “Besides, I feel like it encapsulates my crazy bitch personality.”

“Sure.” He chuckles, and his attention is on your face again. “So, I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I saw your message when I left work and I… well,” he reaches behind him, fumbling on his backpack before he reveals a small pharmacy bag “thought I could be of help.”

Your stomach flips. A perfectly normal reaction to a friend buying medicine and coming all the way to another friend’s place after seeing they were in pain.

“I just felt bad, I guess.” He continues when you just keep staring at his face — that beautiful, sculpted face of his. “I forget how painful it is to ride for the first time and I didn’t give you proper aftercare instructions.” Did those words actually leave his mouth? “Can I come in?”

Admittedly, there were some horny nights with some thirsty thoughts — but in none of your fantasies your hair had this much frizz when you let him in your place alone for the first time, so you immediately shake your head.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. You’re probably tired from work and all.”

“No, really, it’s no heat. I know how bad the pain is. I used to be sore as fuck all the time, so I learned just how to deal with it.”

…

You mean… he did come all this way to provide some assistance, and you’re not rude — not all the time at least. So you step aside to give him room to enter, closing the door once he does.

Taehyung’s eyes roam around your room, and after some seconds of quiet inspection, he regards you with a frown. “Thought you had a Keke Palmer poster.”

You mimic his confusion.

“What?”

“Pretty sure you said you had one when we watched Nope.”

You take a few seconds to understand what he’s talking about, but eventually Hobi’s ridiculous attempt at making movie nights a thing a couple of months ago returns to you.

“Damn, you remember that? Obsessed much?” You tease, prompting Taehyung to roll his eyes.

You’re grinning when you step in front of your closet, slowly bending to grab the large Keke Palmer Glamour cover that you printed out months ago.

“Oh. You keep it in the closet?”

“It builds character.” You turn to show it to him. “Also if I so much as stain the wall, I have to pay a fee.” You pout. “But I only found out after spending a shit ton of money to get this laminated and framed, so.”

“I can hang stuff in my apartment.” He shrugs.

“Congratulations. Wanna tell me how nice it is to have an individual bathroom too?”

“No, I’m just sayin’... you could hang it there.”

“What, you like Keke Palmer now? You haven’t even watched True Jackson.” If this man had a flaw, that was definitely it.

“I mean, we could watch together. We never do anything just the two of us.”

Yeah, well, no shit.

“That’s ‘cus you annoy the hell out of me.” Which isn’t 100% wrong. “Besides, we just rode horses together, my sore ass is definitely a testament to that.” You turn to place the poster back. “Which reminds me. What about the drugs you were going to give me?”

“Here,” he reaches for the pharmacy bag again, pulling out a pain relief plaster from it, “this is the best one I’ve found, and it doesn’t have any major side effects or anything...” he pauses. “You aren’t pregnant and shit, right?”

“And shit?”

“Like… suspecting?”

“Not really.”

“Then we should be safe.”

“Damn. You ain’t sure?” You laugh anxiously.

“... ‘Course I am.”

“You hesitated.”

“I used this before, and I’m fine.”

“You can’t really get pregnant, though, can you?”

“Thought you said you’re not pregnant.” He narrows his eyes.

“That’s not the point.”

He grimaces.“People from work use it. And some of them can get pregnant, so… you’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all.”

“Great, then.” He smiles and you can’t help smiling back. “Where’s hurting?”

“Basically my back and legs… also my butt, but I ain’t sticking patches there.”

He nods. “Seems fair.”

Taehyung’s attention shifts to your bed.

“Mind laying down for me?”

You swallow the urge to vomit.

“Sorry?”

“It’s easier if I apply them for you. If you place them wrong they won’t work properly. Besides, it’s probably better if we don’t use a lot, for…” he darts his eyes away, “safety concerns, in case you ever want to pop some kids out.”

Yeah.

It makes sense, right?

“Okay.” You narrow your eyes. “But no funny business, mister.” You say, like a fool.

He raises his palms in surrender, before helping you climb the bed carefully. You shift a bit, pulling the hem of your shorts lower over your ass as you lay on your stomach.

“Show me where it hurts.” He fishes for a patch inside the package.

You extend your hand to hover over your lower back and then point generally to your thighs.

“No, show me where it hurts the most. I can’t put these everywhere.”

“There’s not a single place, Taehyung.” You scoff. “I barely got up from bed this morning.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll never horseback ride again— by the way, why it’s horseback riding? Where else would I ride?” You shake your head.

“Fuck if I know. Also, the pain is just because you’ve never done it before. The more you ride, the more accustomed you get. Like… like sex!”

Yeah, you’re not having this conversation with him.

“Just put the damn patches, man.”

“Wait, let me think.”

“God, this will take some time.”

“Shut up.” He goes quiet for a moment, and you turn to find him looking at your bottom with his hand on his chin. Not flattering, really. “Let me give you a massage.”

You can only hope that he can’t see the way you shiver as the words leave his mouth.

You laugh.

What.

“What?” You voice, twisting to look at him.

“It’ll help to relieve the pain, then we can see the best spot to place the patches.”

“You just wanna touch my butt,” you can only hope you don’t sound as desperate as you feel.

He chuckles.

“You wish.” Fuck, you kinda do. “But I’m serious, it’ll be good to soothe it. Also, my messages are pretty good.”

You won’t do this.

You shouldn’t do this.

…

No, really, you shouldn’t do this.

But then again… you and Jimin have given each other a bunch of massages before. Even Namjoon had given you some proper kneading before, and it was no big deal. This is just a friend helping out another friend who happens to be in pain.

…

Yeah, maybe Jimin’s right. Maybe you are stupid, and maybe you do stupid things when it comes to Taehyung.

“Whatever.” You return to your previous position, resting your cheek on your palms on the bed. “You better be good at this.”

“I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll want nothing more.” He taunts, and you’re afraid he might be too right on that one.

You and Taehyung have touched before. He’s a cuddler, so occasionally you fall victim to his hugs. He’s also been beside you in the backseat of Yoongi’s car one too many times, pressed together as you try to make room for Jimin’s thick ass. There was also that time you fell on top of him when you all went to a water park and he stood at the bottom of the slide — like a dumbass —, but even then it was mostly your foot on his face.

So now, as his large palms find the bare skin of your waist, exposed by your cropped top, it’s like the first time you’ve ever been touched.

But the feeling is short-lived, as Taehyung immediately pulls his hands away.

“Are my hands cold?”

“No?”

“You got goosebumps.”

“Oh.” You chuckle awkwardly. “It was kinda sudden.”

“Sorry.” He pauses. “I’m going in, then.”

You sigh when the weight of his palms returns to your waist, and Taehyung chooses to ignore the way your body still shivers while his feather-light touch travels over your lower back.

“You comfortable?”

“Yes.”

He hums and you close your eyes.

He gradually starts to add more pressure, digging into your skin and eliciting a quiet grunt out of your lips when he kneads on a particularly sore area.

“Sorry” he stops briefly, “this will probably hurt some, but let me know if it gets too much.”

Months of one sided sexual attraction are enough to make his five minute touch already too much. And you know this ain’t looking good. Not with the way your body receives this as if it’s some kind of tantric experience. You can already feel heat spreading under your skin while his hands get familiar with your back, and you’re definitely way more tense then you should be — but you do your best to force your mind out of the gutter and try to enjoy this friendly massage.

And to be honest, he’s actually really good at this.

His hands work in a disarming rhythm. Hard pressure unwinding your sore spots, only to return with soft and delicate caresses whenever your pain announces itself. He pays attention to every inch of your hips, charting the flesh with the utmost care and determination, and making it impossible for you to hold grunts and soft sighs of relief — which, despite bringing a tingling heat to your face, only seem to spur him on.

As his fingers trace every line of your lower back and ease pains you didn’t even know you had, it doesn’t take long for you to allow yourself to relax, and it’s no surprise when your mind wanders. It wanders with simple, yet agonizing questions, such as how those palms would feel in other parts of your body. Nothing too daring, just…

… on your neck, untying the knots you sure have there too, or…

… or on your shoulders, kneading the tense areas…

… but maybe your thighs too, caressing their soft, tender skin…

… and maybe a bit higher, in between them too.

You’d never admit it out loud, but for a moment, while your waist is so attentively being touched by him, you pretend that this whole shallow breathing, overthinking and nauseating butterflies thing isn’t one sided, and that his hands aren’t just soothing a pain he feels somewhat responsible for, but rather claiming your skin, like you have wished he’d do, caring for your body as if it’s his to care for.

“You good?” He asks, and you feel intoxicated by his quiet voice sounding from above you.

You hum softly. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“Nice. Can I massage your thighs too?”

Of course you nod. How could you not? Nevermind your thighs are sensitive as fuck. Nevermind the telltale longing you feel as soon as his hands leave your back. What minds, though, is the welcoming warmth of when they find your legs. The delicate and hesitant contact is enough for you to suck in a sharp breath, firmly grasping the comforter beneath your hand.

His palms are as purposeful as they were on your hips, easing the soreness and softening the flesh, while being careful not to surpass or even brush the limit of your shorts — but holy fuck how you wish he would. You wish he would just read your mind and feel as electrified by your skin as you feel by his, because you know — you just know that you’re melting way too fast, tight grip on the bed getting more useless by the minute, and you don’t even notice when your reasonable grunts and sighs turn into breathy whimpers and mellow moans.

But Taehyung notices. Hands hesitating before finally coming to a full stop and parting from your skin when a brush in the hem of your shorts prompts a wanton moan to fall from your lips.

You groan at the loss, your glazed over eyes making you oblivious to his hooded ones as you lift yourself on your elbows to better face him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uhm,” his eyes flicker to your pouting lips, “maybe we— I think we should stop…” he clears his throat. “Yeah. We should stop.”

“Why?” You frown, cautiously turning to sit up straight.

He rehearses an answer a couple of times, opening and closing his mouth exasperatedly, before deciding to not give a fuck to be coherent. “‘Cus— god, you are–you” he runs his hands through his hair, before chuckling humourlessly “shit, you’re driving me fucking insane,” he blurts, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What?” You mutter, not keeping up with the fact that Taehyung’s having a mental breakdown right now.

“You seriously need to ask?” Is he… angry at you right now? “God, you just— shit, sound so fucking hot, you sound like heaven, and touching you is making me all… I don’t even know, I’m not–I can’t think right now, shit, do you have any idea how soft your skin is? Just fucking look at yourself. Your bod–you’re just so beautiful and I’m touching it like it’s not making me fucking horny as hell, and I know we’re friends and shit, but god you’re just…” he finally breaths before noticing your wide eyes and agape mouth. “Shit, I’m— fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll just leave, sorry for whatever the hell this was, please don’t tell Jimi—”

It’s only when Taehyung starts to step back that you snap out of your own head.

Shit.

Jimin is right.

“Taehyung” you reach for his wrist, “shut up.”

“No, but I’m—”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

For a second he looks just as helpless as you feel.

“What.”

“Taehyung,” you stare deep inside his eyes, “keep touching me.”

He blinks, but steps closer to the bed again.

“What are you saying?”

“Damn, boy, do I have to spell it out for you?” You tease, but the neediness is evident in your tone.

His expression softens immediately and he chuckles — somewhat incredulous, somewhat relieved —, drawing his tongue along his bottom lip as he allows his eyes to trail over your whole body, traveling over your chest, then down your legs, before he’s returning his attention to your lips.

Not a single hint of hesitancy veiling his actions anymore.

He steps closer, placing one of his knees on the bed and leaning over you. His hand cradles your jaw, softly tracing the skin. You can feel his breath fanning over your face, and you promptly close your eyes, anticipating what his kiss would feel like.

“Wanna hear you say it.” He whispers against your ear. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Your mind spins at the pet name, his deep voice lacing it with the purest of honeys as you feel excitement tightening every muscle in your body.

“Taehyung, I…” you swallow thickly, feeling his pillowy lips touching your cheek “I want you.”

You sigh.

“Please.”

And then, his touch leaves your face, and you open your eyes, confused.

He stares at you with desire blanketing his eyes. A small smile crosses his lips before he opens his mouth again.

“Lay back down on your stomach for me, then.” He smirks. “Let me finish your massage.”

You return to your previous position in a heartbeat, expecting Taehyung to do the same, but as soon as you’re comfortable — or as comfortable as one could be while this tense — his legs circle your body and he straddles your thighs, knees framing your hips.

“This ok?” You nod, whispering a quick affirmative. “Tell me if that changes, I can’t see your face.”

“Okay.”

This time, when Taehyung touches you, he traces your skin as one would the finest porcelain, fingertips traveling through the expanse of your back as if trying to memorize each and every inch of it. But he doesn’t avoid reaching higher now, palms raising your top slightly before feeling his way along your sides and down to your ass.

He molds the flesh under his palm, but freezes when a soft squeeze prompts a hiss out of your lips.

“Shit, sorry, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You say immediately.

“Right.” He hesitates. “Also, please let me know if I hurt you at any point.” You nod, but he still doesn’t continue. “Tell me you understand.”

“I’ll let you know if you hurt me at any point.” You assure, wiggling your hips a little. “Now, please.”

He chuckles. Your eyes flutter shut as soon as his touch finds your legs, thumbs grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you feel like you’re learning how to breathe all over again.

The pleasure he’s eliciting from your body is so profound it’s almost worrisome, and it’s all you can do not to get too much in your head, because you’ve never been touched like this before.

Like, yeah, sure, you could’ve guessed Taehyung’s hands were sinful, or that some deep-buried pent up emotion would make the knot in your stomach that much more delicious, but you don’t think you could’ve dreamt with how easily he’s able to read your body, working you up at an alarming speed as his patient but insistent touch make you feel like one of those white mystical bitches who cum on camera with that tantric bullshit you’ve laughed about before.

If it weren’t for the way your panties are soaking wet already, uncomfortably sticking to your pussy, and for the weight of his body above you, you’d sure be blaming this on some weird sex dream you’d rather never acknowledge.

But as much as you’re enjoying it — and somewhat surprised at his patience —, it doesn’t take long before you start squirming under him, begging for something more intimate.

“Taehyung,” you sob, “more.”

“Shit, you sound so needy. Nothing like the bad bitch I know.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, and it’s supposed to be a reprimand, but he only chuckles.

“Don’t get me wrong, though, I fucking love it. Love to know I’m the one making you feel like this.”

You ignore the way his tone makes your brain stop for a full second before you wiggle down, trying to near his hand to where you need him the most, but his hold is firm on your thighs.

“Shit, don’t tease me.” You cry.

Taehyung clicks his tongue, body leaning forward to press down on your back before his lips find the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think you understand what’s gonna happen here, baby” how is Taehyung’s voice so fucking hot, god, this can’t possibly be fair. “If you want this, you’ll have to behave and listen to me.” His hand finally moves, and a strangled moan falls from your lips when his thumb finds your pussy through the thin fabric of your shorts. “Can you do that?” His lips tease the skin below your ear. “Can you be a good girl for me and let me take care of you?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why does he sound so calm? And why do you feel anything but?

“Yes,” you mutter under your breath, and Taehyung pulls your earlobe between his teeth before returning to his previous position.

“Good. Now tell me what you want, baby. And be clear.”

His demanding tone sends a wave of arousal to your panties.

“Touch me.” You blurt.

“Ain’t I?” He swipes his thumb over you again and you gasp.

“No–not enough. Just… fuck, please,” you swallow thickly, trying to think, “you know what I want.”

“Uhm, but I don’t. Why don’t you spell it out for me?” Another swipe.

“Shit” you shudder, “give–give me more.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “Take this– my shorts, take them off, please”

He chuckles.

“So needy.” He mocks, but if the speed with which he gets off of you is anything to go by, he’s not much better.

He’s careful to not spark any pain as he slowly pulls your shorts down your legs, but leaves your panties on as he straddles you again and gently grabs your ass.

“Taehyung,” you whine.

“Shit, you sound so pretty saying my name like that,” his fingers swiftly pull your panties aside, and you both let out appreciative moans when he feels up and down your aching pussy. “You’re soaking my fingers, baby,” he murmurs, fingers parting your folds, “want me this bad?”

“I want you so much,” you answer, mind functioning way past self-preservation.

His hand dips down to rub your clit, making your walls flutter around nothing. He speeds up and you hear how wet you are for him, feeling your arousal dripping down your thighs. Taehyung shifts a bit and helps you carefully spread your legs with him still above you, and the momentary discomfort is worth it when he pushes two fingers inside your aching cunt.

“So fucking hot,” he groans, low tone dripping with lust as he starts to properly finger you open for him, “just sucking me in. Can’t wait to feel that around my cock.”

You shudder at his words, doing all you can to not rip the comforter with the force you’re clutching it.

“God, baby, wan–want that too” you gasp.

“Yeah?”

“Want you to fuck me dumb.”

“Holy shit,” he lets out a strained chuckle, “I’d love that too, baby, but if I did that it wouldn’t really help with the pain.”

You swear you had an answer in the tip of your tongue, but Taehyung curves his fingers in that exact moment, hitting your sweet spot just right and you suddenly don’t recognize your own voice, spilling filthy nothings and moaning shamelessly as he pairs his now precise rutting with a languid grinding of his palm on your cunt. “So what about I fuck you sweet and slow instead? Worship this gorgeous body of yours, hum?”

Taehyung takes the way your pussy squeezes his fingers as the answer that it is, and adds a third digit past your dripping folds, further preparing you for him. Your hips jolt when he takes his thumb to your clit, smearing your juices around before he’s rubbing circles over it.

You feel your stomach tensing the longer he fingers you, but as delicious as this is, you didn’t fantasize about this day for months only to cum on his fingers.

“Taehyung, I’m—” you moan wantonly, body tensing under him, “I’m close, but I don’t wanna—”, his fingers leave your cunt with a loud squelch, and he pushes himself away from you just as quickly.

“Turn around for me, angel.”

You take a second to process his words, his abrupt stop making you feel devastatingly empty, but as soon as you do as he says, he dives down to slot his lips against yours — and holy shit.

Taehyung kisses you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Mouth molding over yours with an intensity that makes you feel loved. His hands travel over your body with similar admiration, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips to tangle with yours as you two savor each other.

Your mouths fit perfectly together while your skin burns with desire. He’s such a good kisser, matching your rhythm with ease.

You slither your fingers through his hair, pulling the strands and turning his face slightly to deepen the kiss. He makes you drunk, intoxicated in the sweet taste of his lips, and the sloppier it gets, the hungrier you get.

“Wanna kiss you everywhere” he moans, mouth parting from yours to trace your chin and jaw, licking and sucking on the skin, while he starts to push your top up.

“You first” you mutter, running your hands down his chest and sliding them beneath his shirt, nails scraping against his stomach before you’re raising it up his torso.

He sends you a disarming smirk, kneeling on the bed to pull his shirt off.

“God, Taehyung, for fuck’s sake” you groan. “How are you real?”

“You’re one to say.”

“You damn right I am.” You scoff, suddenly self-conscious. “Have you seen yourself? How do you expect me to undress in front of you?”

“Nah, stop that shit,” he huffs out a laugh, leaning above you again to whisper against your ear, “where’s the bad girl I know? The one who owns every room she walks in, huh? If anyone should be insecure here, it should be me,” you bite your lip and he tugs on your shirt, “let me see you too, babe.”

You pout, but help him take off your top — and his gaze burns through your bare chest, impossibly darker.

“So fucking perfect,” he mouths, before diving in and taking your lips again, kissing you fervently and letting his hands run free over your whole body.

His large palms cup your tits, grabbing them and caressing the soft flesh for a while, then pinching and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. He moves his lips to your cheek, leaving small bites along the side of your jaw before he buries his face in the curve of your neck, licking and kissing every single spot.

“I’ve been dreaming about this body for so long” he says against your skin, “I thought I was gonna die when I saw you with a bikini on that trip” he admits. “But seeing you like this— actually seeing you,” he takes his lips further down, “shit, you’re prettier than any dream, than any thought I could have.”

You feel your whole body warm with his praise, mind spinning as you try to make sense of his words — but failing miserably as he closes his mouth around one of your tits. Your eyes flutter shut and you roughly pull his hair, eliciting the sexiest fucking sounds out of him, all while rewarding them with your own loud pleasure as his tongue fondles with your nipple. His lips chart every inch of you, leaving no spot untasted or unkissed as he makes your body his.

“You make me dizzy,” he mumbles, “shit, can’t fucking get enough.”

He seems so fucking satisfied. Smuggly smiling against your body whenever you shudder or moan a bit too loud, pride overwhelming his features whenever his name meets his ears in a shaky breath, reveling in the way you melt under him.

Taehyung pulls the waistband of your panties between his teeth, biting down on the fabric to then carefully and slowly slide them down your legs, not daring to take his eyes away from yours until you are completely naked under him.

“Wanna taste you so bad.”

You feel goosebumps trailing over your skin, the idea sending a fresh wave of arousal down your cunt. So, naturally, when you pull him up and shake your head, you’re almost as surprised as him.

“No…” you whisper, and he freezes, worry taking over his face, “want you to fuck me.” Relief washes over his face, before a slow, teasing smirk takes over his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. “Shit, Tae, I need you to fuck me.”

Your whole face heats up when he snickers.

“Say that again.” You bite down on your lip when he grips your flesh with a bit more force than before. “My name,” he whispers, crawling up to caress your cheek. “Say my name like that again. Like you’ll fucking die if I don’t give you what you want.” His palm chases down your neck and pushes your head back a bit.

“Tae…” you sigh, closing your eyes when he kisses your jaw, “Taehyung, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, so hot” he whispers on your ear. “Begging for cock like a good girl,” you whine when he pulls your earlobe between his teeth. “Are you always needy like this? So desperate to be fucked?”

It is humiliating to admit, and you feel a not-so-sexy kind of anxiety creeping up on you and catching up with you clouded brain, because you know damn well you’ve never begged for shit — and that's why a teasing smile and innocent look is the best you can muster before pulling him in for a kiss.

Taehyung takes a second to process your touch, but soon melts into it, slipping his tongue past your lips and securing your waist on his hands. He rolls his hips, pressing his clothed erection on your cunt, and you both shiver at the friction.

“Why the fuck you still have your pants on?”

“Was kinda distracted,” he scoffs, and your hands reach between your bodies for his belt. You struggle with the poor angle, but eventually manages to open his jeans, and Taehyung lets out a relieved sigh, sitting up to properly push his pants off.

“Hurry up,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together.

“You’re this eager to see my butt?”

“Yeah, wanna see where you hid it.”

“Damn,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he tosses his last piece of clothing away.

It’s pathetic. It’s so fucking pathetic the way your jaw goes slack and your eyes widen. But what can you do when you finally see his cock — the one you’ve imagined way more times than someone who doesn’t have a crush probably should. He’s so hard it sure must be painful and precum collects at the tip, making your mouth water.

“Wanna suck you.”

“If I ain’t tasting you, you ain’t sucking me.” You pout.

“You just scared you won’t last.”

“I wasn’t the one begging less than a minute ago.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckles, slotting himself between your thighs.

He teases up your entrance, smearing your arousal around your pussy until his crown finds your clit and a low moan rips from your throat. You’ve never been this wet before — but you’ve also never felt this wanted before either.

Then, Taehyung’s patience seems to finally have reached its limit — his own teasing overbearing even for himself, because he doesn’t wait another second as he parts your folds, pressing his tip before finally pushing in. You tighten your grip on his shoulder, digging your nails on his flesh while his eyes are hypnotized by the way your cunt throbs around him, adjusting to his size as he fills you to the brim.

“You ok?” He whispers, heavy breath fanning your face as you thread your fingers through his hair.

You nod, “Please, move.”

He starts to roll his hips back.

“God, you’re so tight,” Taehyung groans, eyes rolling back at the way you clench around him.

“Shit,” you moan, “this feels so fucking good,” you’re not really aware of the words leaving your mouth, feeling as if you’ve lost your ability to think — an ability that you weren’t particularly good at in the first place.

When Taehyung moves back in, you can feel every inch of him as he stuffs you full, grinding on you as soon as your hips meet and stimulating every part of you. He sets a disarming pace, cock reaching deep with every stroke and he has to control every urge in his body not to pound into you like you both would like him to.

And you’re not used to this. You’re not used to the softness of his hold nor with the care he fucks you with.

Sex for you always felt like a race, but Taehyung makes it feels as if he stopped time altogether. The overwhelming bliss he sparks within your body is just so fucking good, already so much better than any past orgasms you’ve had.

When he feels you fully accommodate him, he speeds up enough to have you spiraling but not enough so your thighs are hurting. Between lustful moans and low groans, his hooded eyes search yours to read your every reaction, to understand which angle makes your brows furrow deeper, which rhythm makes you sound the most vulgar, and you can feel yourself dissolving into pleasure — the toe-curling, mind fucking and dangerous type — in no time.

He whispers the dirtiest things in your ear, tracing your neck with his tongue and biting on your jaw, loud pleasure and wet sounds fill the room.

You ignore the slight pain that hits your body whenever he makes your hips jolt or your legs shake, mostly because his soothing hands are anxious over your skin: fingers digging on your thighs, palms grabbing your hips, pinning you down on the bed to contain some of your roughest spasms. You’ve never been fucked so deep and so deliciously before.

You babble what seems like his name, but you’re too lost to be sure, desperate and uncoordinated sounds leaving your mouth loud enough to earn you some noise complaints later.

“Shit— ngh, so–so fucking good.” You arch your back, and Taehyung takes his hands to massage your tits.

Your head tilts back on the comforter, eyes squeezing shut despite your desire to keep looking at him — at his dark, unwavering gaze, staring you down while fucking you so deliciously —, but it’s just too much. You swear he’s on a mission to make you lose your goddamn mind as he earnestly fucks you, reaching every spot and grinding on you.

“Feels so good like this,” he grunts, “just sucking me in, so fucking wet.”

And you don’t answer — because you can’t. There’s nothing but Taehyung’s name in your mind, and some shaky version of it reaching his ears.

You can already feel the steady pressure building in the pit of your stomach, making your legs shiver around him as your whole body tightens.

“Shit,” he buries his face in your neck, feeling you constrict around him, “you close?”

You nod, biting his shoulder as a guttural moan leaves your lips.

“Then cum for me, princess, cream my cock.” He commands, pressing his thumb down on your clit at the same time, and making you come undone beneath him.

Taehyung can't really detain your whole body from quivering, hips buckling while your back arches from before you collapse on the bed.

An exhaustion takes over you, and it feels like hours until you’re finally able to open your eyes again.

Your body’s still quivering with aftershocks, pussy way too sensitive as Taehyung fucks you with lazy, shallow thrusts.

“Shit, that was so fucking hot” he groans, before his brows knit up, “I’m close too.”

He suddenly pulls away, quickly rising to kneeling position and circling his glistening cock with his large hand. His eyes travel over your body as he pumps himself, palm focusing on the tip as he chases his own release.

You ignore the way you pussy clenches at the sight.

“In my mouth,” you mutter, voice barely audible — but he hears you, because his movements falter.

“What did you say?”

“Want you to cum in my mouth.” You lick your lips before supporting yourself on your hands to get closer to his crotch. He groans when you replace his hand with yours, jerking his length to spread some of your juices around before closing your lips around his tip.

His head immediately falls back with an elongated grunt. And you feel your pussy leaking when he starts to twitch inside your mouth.

“So fucking good,” he praises, making you hum.

It takes only a few expert flicks of your tongue and hollowing of your cheeks before Taehyung’s hips buck and you feel his salty taste spilling down your throat. You keep sucking him, milking every last drop of his cum and swallowing it all like a champ, before releasing him with a pop and cleaning your lips with the back of your hand.

“You just swallowed my cum.” He says, as if trying to process it.

A sly smile takes over your face, but it doesn’t stay long as Taehyung’s face slowly scrunches up in what can only be described as sorrow. His lips turn into a pout and he gets off the bed in a heartbeat, searching for his discarded clothing.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Your mind, empty a second ago, suddenly overflows with a million thoughts.

Shouldn't you have swallowed his cum? Did he want to cum on your tits? Why the fuck are his eyes glossy like that? Is he crying because he wanted to cum on your tits? Why is your heart about to explode? Say something, why can’t you just say something?

“I’m really sorry about this” he starts, pushing his underwear up his body, “I can’t believe I–that we…” he groans, running his hands through his hair the same way you were doing just seconds ago.

It hits you maybe too late into the overthinking process that having sex with Taehyung wasn't probably the best idea — not only due to his current euphoric attempt at an escape, but also because now, after your brain starts functioning at a normal speed after cuming that hard, you’re finally able to process the messy string of thoughts knotting inside your head and come to the alarming conclusion that… yeah, you kinda have a crush on that man fleeing from you right now — undeniably so, given that he’s struggling to stop crying after fucking you and you still feel the urge to cuddle with him and pinch his cheeks.

The fuck is wrong with you.

“Taehyung.” You call, remnants from his cum lingering on your mouth.

Thank god Keke Palmer is secured behind that closet not to see you failing her like that.

He’s mumbling to himself, seemingly forgetting that you can, in fact, hear him.

“— can’t believe I just fucked her, this did not just happened—” he says, among sniffles, fighting with his zipper, “argh, this was so fucking good, she was so fucking hot and now I just won’t be able to forget this shit and this is the opposite of what I was supposed to do—”

“Taehyung!”

“What?!” He snaps, giving up on his jeans and letting them fall uncomfortably on his thighs.

“The fuck you on about, man?”

He lets out a strangled noise, exasperated by your calmness.

“How am I supposed to get over you if my dick is now in love with you too?” He blurts, probably unintentionally, probably not realizing that you’re on the receiving end of that statement.

“... Well, damn.”

He sobs when it hits him. You just chuckle.

“Please, forget I ever said that—”

“Why, tho? This was the most romantic shit someone’s ever said to me.”

His exasperated groans are so fucking cute.

“I… sorry, let’s just pretend I never said anything. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh. That’s too bad, cus I kinda like you too.”

“That’s not what I…” He closes his mouth immediately, eyes wide in a mix of panic and bewilderment as you smile.

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean right now.”

You chuckle.

“Why? Gonna cry?” He actually sobs. “Damn, boy, you sound nothing like the bad bitch I know.” You mock, but then bite your lip and crawl off the bed, trying to stand in front of him despite your stumbling legs. “I like you too, you dumbass. Been liking you for sometime, actually.”

You place your hand on his face, softly cleaning the tears off his cheeks.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He frowns, breathing finally normalizing.

“But you never really talk to me.”

“Yeah, I was kind of in denial and your personality didn’t help.”

“... That’s a compliment, right?”

You chuckle. “Yeah, Tae.”

“And what was yesterday about, then?”

“I was obviously trying to seduce you. And look at you,” you smile proudly, “seduced.”

“Yeah, ‘cus there’s nothing sexier than a sweaty woman fighting to stay on top of a horse, if you ask me.”

He opens one of those large, intoxicating boxy smiles of his, and you’re suddenly unable to smile back.

“Honestly? You intimidated the hell out of me. But seeing you completely out of your element yesterday watching me train some kids at a stud farm?” He chuckles. “Made me realize that… yeah, you’re amazing and all the shit I already thought… But you’re kinda lame too.”

Your mouth falls open.

“I’m sorry, you just said your dick’s in love with me, asshole.” You roll your eyes. “And you were about to fucking flee the scene. While crying, may I add.”

“Yeah, cus you just ate my cum,” he smirks. “That does something to a guy’s heart.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, right.”

He shakes his head, an annoying smile still plastered on his face.

“I really do like you, you know? And like… we don’t have to figure anything out right now, this doesn’t even feel real yet, but…” he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest, “I really fucking like you.”

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, slowly running his finger over your lips. This time, his kiss is tender, full of unhesitant affection. You two fumble backwards, and he carefully lays you on your back, falling beside you and pulling you to frame his side.

“I like you too.” You whisper, snuggling closer.

“We can do those corny things together now. Like… uhm, like watch that Real Jackson show you always talk ab—” you grimace.

“It’s True Jackson, Taehyung.”

“Whatever, same difference.” Keke please forgive his ignorant soul. “Oh, and I’ll take you to ride with me.”

“Yeah, don’t push it. There’s not a single chance I’ll be riding again.”

“Oh, no, babe,” he and offers you a smirk, “I meant riding this fucking dick!”

Sigh.

But honestly, that might not be too bad.

note ↠ sooo, what we think? 🥹 writing this after taking a break was way harder than anticipated lol, but i made it! so i hope y'all enjoy it note² ↠ all form of feedback is deeply appreciated! note³ ↠ you can go back to navigation here

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

Note

Ok I got a bit of a doozy. What if Leon was told his s/o was an umbrella scientist. But through telling him, they start breaking down because the research they did was SUPPOSED to go towards curing diseases and helping the world. Like they were doing research for good but it was essentially stolen from them and twisted to become something destructive. Once they found out their work was stolen, they left umbrella.

I’m a grad student working in a lab and I also have Leon brain rot lol.

OKAY OH MY. i wrote this on my break and i’m so sorry it’s so short i had like 5 different routes to take for this </3 i feel like it’s so bad

edited note:: i am for sure writing more of this when i get home.

Coming home from the longest day ever- you work with Rebecca and today specifically made your head hurt so bad.

When you walk into yours and Leon’s shared apartment it’s so dark, the sound of people talking being heard from Leon’s office, causing your eyebrows to raise as you put your purse and jacket on the hook. Noticing another jacket next to Leon’s?

You pushed your shoes off, walking down the hall to his dimly lit office pushing the door open. Claire and Chris?

You felt their eyes turn to you as you checked behind the door trying not to knock anything over. Leon didn’t even greet you, his stare empty and the same with Claire and Chris.

“What’s wrong?”

You asked as you shut the door behind you, noticing they had multiple open files all over Leon’s desk. Claire reached over pressing play on the tape recorder they had laid out.

“Day 17, this is professor (Your last name).. I can’t do it. And i can’t figure out why they want this virus so bad. I made them a vaccine and they have yet to give it back.. The T virus will cause mass destruction.. and I created it.”

Your face was white as a ghost, staring at the group, Leon’s hands digging through the paperwork. He looked so overwhelmed and it broke your heart.

“So what? You’ve been a lie this whole time? You’ve heard what me and Claire went through with Raccoon City yet you can sleep peacefully next to me knowing you caused it.”

Leon’s words made tears build in your eyes as you shook your head, you had nothing to say. Or at least it wasn’t coming out, you walked over to the desk digging through the files yourself and god they had so many. Every research you’ve ever taken part of, every vaccine you’ve helped create, everything. You took in a deep breath as you pulled the T virus file, laying it on top of all of the others.

“They took it from me. You heard it on the tape, you think I would’ve let them take it if i knew what they were creating? We have to create a virus, to make a vaccine. Oh come on you guys know how science works”

You rambled as you stared over at Chris and Claire.

“I wanted to tell you guys.. I left umbrella, after the events of Raccoon city, they threatened my life. And when I was finally ready to confront you guys.. they crumbled..”

Leon flipped through the files again shaking his head seeing your ID shots.

“You guys have to believe me.. They lied to most of their workers just like they lied to you guys, to the world.”

They didn’t seem to understand, or even care. Your heart rate sped up at the thought of Leon and Claire in Raccoon city, you felt the vomit creeping up your throat as you pushed your way passed the desk, running to the bathroom. You heard the sound of running down the hallway as you threw up into the toilet bowl, before feeling Leon’s fingers run against your neck to push hair behind your ears.

When you finished, you collapsed back into Leon’s arms, grabbing at him sobbing about how sorry you were. Leon nodded his head as he helped you stand, pulling at the toilet paper to wipe your face as he nodded.

“It’s okay, I believe you.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #chris redfield #leon kennedy imagine #ada wong #claire redfield #jill valentine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #ashley graham #resident evil vendetta #resident evil x reader

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highlady-sorcha · 1 year

Text

Appetite (Cassian x Reader) (Mature)

Holy freaking cow guys, I CANNOT believe the reception that you all have given my work on here. I can’t even begin to tell you what it means, and I truly cannot thank you enough for all the love and support you’ve given me over the past couple days. Here’s another one from my Wattpad in a much different vein than the other two. I’ve never written smut before this- so bear with me lol. Thanks for reading!

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The cabin got too quiet during the day. Snow flurried down from the skies in a ceaseless sheet of white fluff, and the drifts grew higher and higher, beginning to shift around as the wind roared around the eaves of the building.

You shuddered against the cold and snuggled deeper into your sweater. The thick knit felt good against the chill that leaked in from around a few of the windows. For all the magic that Rhysand held, it was a wonder he never bothered to fix that. For all the time that he and Feyre spent up here, didn't he ever get cold?

Thinking of what they spent their time up here doing, you snorted. Of course they didn't get cold up here, no matter if they were deep in the Illyrian mountains in the dead of winter. Nyx was proof of that.

Settling down into the overstuffed couch, you grabbed your book off the sofa, where you had it laying open, face down to keep your place. The wind roared outside as you tried to not consider what had possibly happened on this very seat by the same two people you'd had in mind.

You picked up the book and began to read, taking a long, slow drink of your steaming tea. The hot liquid slipped over your tongue and languidly dripped down the back of your throat.

There were other things you wanted to drip down the back of your throat.

A pleasant ache throbbed softly between your thighs.

Now wasn't the time, Cassian would be back later, he said he just wanted time away from everything when he got back. Being part of the inner circle took a toll on him at times, and now with the pressure of being an uncle, the protectiveness he felt for Nyx... you knew it killed him at times.

But, there were ways to help him relax when he did get back to the cabin.. Your chest tightened a little bit at the thought of him in that huge armchair by the window. His dark, tattooed skin shining in the winter light. All of his skin. Not a stitch on him. Laid back, his head thrown back in ecstasy. With his thick cock in one hand, your hair knotted in the other.

The ache built, wetness slicking your throbbing slit. Tingles traveled down your legs, and you couldn't help but curl your toes in response. The sensation traveled up from your gently swelling clit to the tips of your breasts. They hardened instantly.

You forced another breath through your tightened chest, and set the book on the back of the couch. It slipped off the back and fell to the floor in a flutter of pages. You hardly noticed as you leaned back against the arm of the sofa and spread your legs just a little bit.

The other night, Cassian had wanted to try something new. He'd brought out a length of rope and tied your wrists together around the bedpost. After stripping you bare and laying you facedown on the bed, he'd run a calloused fingertip down your spine with one finger, and used the other to play with your clit.

You were so sensitive that you rarely liked him touching you like that. The sensation was almost more than you could bare. It almost hurt. You could never stay still, him touching your clit sent you jerking and clenching your leg closed. Most of the time, Cassian lost patience and just spread your legs. He normally chose to pleasure you with his cock instead- what he knew you could handle.

Recently though, he'd been sadistic- feral, almost. Bared teeth, fucking outside. The more you whined and begged, moaned and whimpered that you had already come too many times- the harder and longer he fucked you.

Although the fire in the hearth now banked low, heat rippled across your skin when you slid your hand between your legs. The silken sleep shorts you wore were damp at the crotch seam. The navel length top did nothing to hide your peaked breasts. They chafed against the fabric, begging to be kissed by cool air and kneaded by Cassian's rough hands.

A soft sigh left your parted lips and you closed your eyes when your fingers dipped into the wetness you found.

"Mmm, kitten. Seems like you knew just what I would need when I got in." A deep voice purred.

Your eyes flew open as snowflakes fluttered in on a frigid wind. You'd been so preoccupied, you hadn't even heard the door open.

Cassian threw it closed behind him, all his attention already on you. It slammed so hard you didn't need fae hearing to catch the glass rattle in its frame.

A feral smile stretched his mouth, his wings spread wide behind him so that winter light highlighted the membranes between each bone. Snowflakes melted in the black, wind tangled locks that curled around his jaw.

He had a warrior's stance as he looked at you reclined on the sofa, playing with yourself.

Cassian growled and stroked the enormous bulge building beneath his belt.

"I thought you were going to spend the day reading and writing?" He smirked.

Your lips pulled back from your teeth in a feral grin, dipping deeper into the wetness at your core.

"Reading builds an appetite," you replied.

"Does it now?" The corner of Cassian's wide mouth quirked up.

Folding his wings in tightly behind him, he stalked across the room. Every thump of his boots echoed in your heart, at the apex of your thighs. That hot tightness built and built. The tightness in your chest curled like a python preparing for its next meal.

He stood over you and leaned down onto the back of the sofa, bracing himself on his powerful forearms. The sight of corded muscles shifting under his bronze, tattooed skin made you swallow past a lump in your throat.

"Now kitten... what are we going to do with you?" Cassian raked his eyes up and down your body before meeting your eye.

A growl rumbled in his throat, his adam's apple shifted. "Well, are you going to answer me?"

You gave him your best naughty smirk and lifted your hips off the sofa, pulling your silken shorts down and off in one smooth motion. You flicked them across the room, onto the very same armchair by the fire you'd imagined Cassian stroking his cock in only moments ago.

Meeting his eye again, you spread your legs and played with your clit, making a mewling sound at the back of your throat as you did so.

His eyes darkened as he smiled. "Now... I don't think we want to do it so simply, do we?"

Before you could respond, he'd reached over the back of the couch and snatched the front of your silky tank top. Cassian fisted it in his hand and pulled you up face to face with him. This close, the musky scent of his arousal was almost more than you could bear.

His lips crashed into yours, and he wrapped his arms around you. You kissed him back, opening your mouth to allow his tongue in. He kissed furiously, with a primal need. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he sat you on the back of the sofa, deepening the kiss. He nibbled at your bottom lip before leaving it, kissing down your jaw, licking the sensitive spot below your ear.

You groan at the hot sensation of his tongue and shifted closer to him, desperate for any friction to help relieve the ache that was building to a fever pitch. Cassian allowed you closer, your naked bottom grinding into his leather covered bulge. Your slickness did nothing to give you friction though, against the leather you just slid up and down. You whined at the reality.

Cassian chuckled low in his throat, pulling away from your mouth. He braced his hands at the tops of your thighs and smirked at you. His face was wild with attraction, but you could see the leash he kept on it tighten just a little.

"You're not going to get away so quickly. You said you had an appetite (y/n)?"

Still breathing hard from making out, feeling the burning of his scruff still on your face you nodded desperately.

Cassian's smile was positively feral. "So do I, it's been a long damn day."

Cassian dropped to his knees and feasted like a starving man.

#acotar #smut #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #Cassian #Cassian x reader

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xbruised-peachx · 10 months

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I NEED MORE GROMSKO SHIBARI IVE BEEN RE READING THAT SECTION FOR DAAAYS (specifically him in shibari you wrote it so good please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺)

𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕚

bc this has been rotating in my mind for a while as well (apologies to anon im sure this was written a while ago but i finally got to it so!) render by me, full version on my pat :3c Word Count: 3,946 Tags: Shibari/Ropeplay, fem!reader, denial/slight edging, lots of teasing, language kink (reader only slightly knows Polish aka me I've been learning lol), slight size kink, riding, creampie, not proofread (aka eve is gonna kill me for the Polish in this fic LMAO) Translations at the end 🔞+ STORY MDNI

“Here... Let me just...” He was talking under his breath, trying to adjust the meters of rope to find the middle. It wasn’t perfect, not some nice silky rope either, he said he didn’t want that. Instead it was brown and twine-like, like the one that always hung around his waist. He folded it again, leaving it in a nice quarter for you, or at least as close as he could get from just eyeballing it. “There... Now, we’re at step one.”

He chuckled softly as you looked off to your side, a printed guide with many steps over there. He gave you the rope, a look of sympathy on his face. You probably weren’t hiding your nerves too well from his expression. He gave you a soft kiss on the cheek, unable to stop smiling as he did. “Masz to, kochanie... I trust you, you know that...”

You smiled, nodding as you met his eyes after looking up from the instructions. “I know... Hmmmph... But the first step is having your arms behind your back. How are you gonna help me like that?”

He chuckled again, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean... kind of the point of it is that I’m slightly helpless but here...” He bounced his leg slightly, signaling for you to get off his lap. It made you laugh slightly as a jolt of pleasure ran up your spine, no doubt he had other motives as well as you were both undressed. His thick thigh rubbing against your pussy released just a little bit of tension from you. He turned once you were off, facing the instructions as he held his arms in position behind him. You held the bite of the rope cautiously, looking slightly over his shoulder. “I’ll try and tell you, and I’ll tell you the knots, just like we practiced.”

You nodded, still looking over his shoulder, your nose resting on it as you slowly pulled the bite under both his arms, letting the ends hang down. You pulled up on the bite, giving yourself some more room as you started to wrap it around his wrists three times. He told you himself he’d probably need more reinforcement, even if he didn’t resist you. He was a big, strong military man, through and through. But, God, it made you want to see his big body tied up even more. You tried to not fantasize too much in your head as you wrapped, just wanting to experience it all first hand. You kissed the back of his shoulder as you lifted up, letting your breath linger with your smile against his skin as you looked back at the strong rope holding him. “Okay... what knot first, Sobi?”

He cleared his throat lightly, taking a deep breath as he looked down at the notes. “Mmm... I’d say a box tie.” You nodded, remembering him showing you all the types of knots and ties you could do safely. He joked while showing you, saying the military was useful for more than just survival to him... that it was finally coming into use in the bedroom. He felt you tighten it, nodding to give approval that it felt good, secure and not too tight. “Now just wrap it around my left arm, bring it around my chest, then around the right.”

You remembered him saying not to place it too low so it wouldn’t hurt him, nor too high lest it just slip down. Cautiously, you brought it up and around, letting it touch his bicep before lightly pulling it across his chest as your other arm held it onto his bicep. “Right here?”

“Hmm...” Still able to move his arm slightly, he wiggled it slowly, making your hand softly caress his flexing bicep in the process. From the outside looking in, he didn’t seem ripped, but easily he could out-lift anyone he knew, his strong abs and muscles protected by a nice, soft layer of fat that made him so inviting to you. Like your own big teddy bear. “A little higher, like... above the bicep, barely where my shoulder ends... if that makes sense.”

You nodded, listening to him, he had to know himself the best. Slowly, with your arm still caressing him, you pushed the rope up. You heard him take a deep breath out of his nose, truly taking in the feeling of your soft hands against him, your naked body pressed against him. You pushed it even more, leaning up to his ear as you continued pulling the rope across his chest with your other hand. “Like this~?”

He gasped softly as the rope wrapped softly around his other arm, around the same area, taking in the feeling of your soft hands and the rough rope. “Tak~... Y-yes, I like it, kochanie...” His eyes were shut, only cracking open as you started to chuckle.

“No, no... like, ‘jak to?’ As in, is it okay there for position?”

“Oh... heheh, y-yeah, feels perfect there.”

He looked back at you, already his pupils starting to dilate from pleasure. “Mmmm...” you playfully scolded him, “you’re already losing yourself, baby. Got to keep it together, we’ve barely even started.”

He pouted back at you, just playing into the lighthearted joking. “I know... Mmm~... I guess you’re just a natural at it... already making me feel good.” He smiled at you, giving you a wink as you started blushing. He looked down at the instructions, squinting at the next step before taking a harsher breath out. “O, ja pierdolę... right, you have to go around more times now... So, uh, you’ll go under that one on my left and just wrap around... Don’t tease me too much, please, kotku?”

You smiled devilishly, doing as he said, pulling the rope under, but letting your fingers trail up his arm to his shoulder as you pulled it around. “No promises...” As you pulled the rope around his chest, you let your fingers interlace on the rope. They trailed gently across him, his soft hair and chest being teased, also acting as a double check to make sure it wasn’t too tight. He rolled his neck back, a soft kurwa escaping his lips as he loved your delicate touch against him, contrasting beautifully against the ropes that bound him, hugging his body roughly, but also comforting. You chuckled, catching his mouth as he leaned back, continuing to pull the rope around. Instantly, the kiss was deepened as he groaned softly in your mouth, his tongue trying to enter as soon as he could. He was desperate, even now, even just at the beginning. It was cute in its own way, but you couldn’t let him have everything, especially with the way he teases you himself. You let your tongue meet his for a moment, but quickly pulled away with a cheeky grin, watching as his face turned from confusion to frustration, letting out a little huff out of his nose. You looked over his shoulder at the directions again, because lord knew he wasn’t looking.

You pulled the rope under the stem, leading it over and around, then over and around again, until you repeated on the stem. It was hard to read the instructions from here, but you could tell the knot was secure but adjustable. He took a deep breath, leaning his head up slowly as he looked back at the directions himself. He attempted to wiggle his arms, but couldn’t get much of anywhere, ensuring it was perfect. He smiled softly as he read. “Okay... there’s another rope over there, you’re gonna attach it to the other one. Remember the ‘lark’s head’ knot?” You nodded, reaching over to grab the other long rope he had already prepared for you.

“It’s so nice how prepared you are, Sobi,” you smiled, genuinely complimenting him. He smiled softly, chuckling in response.

“Mmm, what can I say? A lovely lady like you who trusts me with her heart asks me if it’s okay to do one of my fantasies? Heh... Am I not supposed to make her life easier?”

You smiled, pulling down on the knot as tight as you could to keep it secure. “You say that like it isn’t a fantasy of mine as well... You’ve tied me up and just... I wanted to see you in it.”

He looked back at you, a smile on his face as his cheeks flushed red softly. “How are you liking it so far?”

“Better than I imagined even,” you said with a big smile on your face, pulling the rope around his arm, this time going under his chest, your pinky playfully twirling in the hair on his chest leading down to his stomach. “I really love how it looks on your arms... Mmm, you already know how much I love hanging off them as is, so...”

He laughed softly, his laugh trailing into a heavier breath as your fingers continued dancing softly on his skin. “That you do... I imagine we have a similar feeling when I wrap it around your thighs, see that little bit of squish.”

“Probably it’s something similar... but your arms are too firm to squish,” your voice trailed off, bringing one of your hands up to run along his bicep again as you brought the rope around a second time, leaning up to his ear, letting your breath softly trace the shell of it. “So big and strong... everytime I touch you like this I just... mmm~, I want those arms doing something else to me.”

He smiled a devilish smile, just barely turning towards you as you slowly nuzzled yourself in the crook of his neck. “Mmm~, and you are worried about me getting worked up? Seems you are working yourself up, kochanie... I can feel your hips rubbing on my back right now.”

You hadn’t even noticed it, but he was right. A blush further spread across your cheeks as you backed away, finishing pulling the rope around. You did the same sort of securing, pulling it up and around a few times around all three branches of the rope. Looking back over his shoulder, he beat you to it, leaning to read himself. “Now’s time for the front.”

You smiled widely at him as he gave you a knowing glance. “Lap time again?”

He shook his head softly, “Not quite, it’s just you have to wrap it around my shoulders in the front, then you can get back in my lap... Trust me, I want it more than anything right now.”

You chuckled softly, pulling the rope through his arm to the front, starting to wrap to his shoulder. “Hehe... I can tell,” you said as you looked down to his growing hard on. It was clear he was into this, his tip pink and barely poking out. You smiled deviously, reaching down with your free hand to pull lightly to get his foreskin fully out of the way, making him quickly suck a breath through his teeth at not only your touch, but the feeling of the air hitting his sensitive tip.

“K-kurwa~! Kotku, I-... shit, you can’t just do that without warning...”

You smiled, feeling a little guilty but you knew he wasn’t too serious, just frustrated from all the teasing... how the tables have turned on him so suddenly. “Mmm~... sorry, you just looked like you needed just a little release...” You pulled the rope over his shoulder and to his back, pulling around and under to meet his other arm, pulling it through. “You seem so pent up, Sobi. Am I wrong?”

You tilted your head cutely as you asked him a question, sitting at his side as you sat there, waiting for his answer. He shook his head, his eyes almost pleading with you as he met yours. “No... God, no you aren’t. I really need this, baby please...”

You smiled at him, pity in your expression as you pulled the rope over his shoulder, reaching the end of it. There was one more rope left, this one a little shorter than the other two. You leaned over his lap, arching your back to tease him more. Your breast against his thigh as you read the instructions, your ass in the air so tantalizing to him, he groaned, cursing under his breath and making you smile more. “O mój kurwa boże...”

“Hmmm...” you played ignorant of your teasing, just reading what comes next in the directions. “Oh! Now it’s lap time!”

“Ohhh... great~...” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at him not being able to take such teasing. Though you suppose, this was a whole different level for him; rather than him just touching along your inner thighs, teasing the outside of your lips, or making his hand go the same pace as your grinding hips. His hands were literally bound as you were bent over in front of him so alluring, your naked body literally right within reach, but was physically incapable of being the palm of his hands.

You tied the last rope in the back, pulling it up and through his arm then letting it dangle, the rope tickling at his thighs. He bit his lip as you saw you readjust, coming back around to his front. Meeting his eyes, you picked up the rope, letting the end graze along his thighs in a tantalizing way, holding it in your other hand as you came to straddle his lap. He looked you up and down, his breath getting heavier moment by moment, seeing how close you were to him, hell, even able to feel the heat from your pussy as it sat inches away. “Don’t tease me too much... I know I keep saying it but... Kurwa, I don’t know how much more I can take...”

His voice trailed off into a more desperate tone, almost sounding like he was whimpering, begging you to give him what he so desperately wanted. You only gave him a pitiful smile, “I’ll try... But it’s a little... hard when I feel you so excited under me. Mmm~...” You let your hips just barely scoot forward on him, earning a groan from him but you said to yourself it was just you adjusting as you pulled the rope across the right under the opposite collarbone. “ It’s just so tempting...”

He chuckled, barely bucking his hips up to yours, making you gasp softly and nearly lose your grip on the rope. “I can say the same for you, kochanie~... So, so tempting...”

You giggled, feeling his cock nestled right at your entrance but unable to enter. Unintentionally, he just led himself into this little trap... a little trap that left him yearning to be inside you even more. “It’s only a little more, miśku... then I’ll have my way with you...” You let your hands trail more on him as you pulled the rope across to the other side, going over then under, making sure to take your time tying a decorative knot at the front of him. You watched him intently as his chest rose and fell rhythmically, despite the deep breaths he was taking. His own eyes watched as your small, delicate hands tied the twine on him, watching those perfect hands expertly work the frayed, imperfect rope.

He whined softly as he wiggled his hands, feeling your wet pussy pressed against him. He knew you wanted this, though your hands went slow, it was just to mess with him more. So you could just feel him get harder under you. He didn’t even think he could get so turned out, but the harsh ropes binding him, making it so he couldn’t touch you. He could only groan in frustration, though the denial only excited him more.

You pulled the rope under the one by his arm and pulled through his arm, letting it rest behind him. You leaned up to his ear, unintentionally grinding yourself on him again as your sultry voice whispered in his ear, “Just one more knot... then I’m done.”

His breath hitched as you spoke, his hips desperately rising to meet yours again, anything to help with this painful hard-on he had. But you didn’t help at all, wrapping your arms around him and leaning over his shoulder, nuzzled close by his neck as you tied the final knot. So close to him, you were able to hear the little whines he let out under his breath as he grinded himself into your core. You bit your lip, suppressing yourself from letting out your own moan. “Pragnę cię tak bardzo, kochanie... Pr-... Pleeeaase~...” He desperately whined as he grinded himself further into your now sopping wet cunt, trying to tie that knot faster as you couldn’t resist him anymore either.

You finally finished it off, pulling your arms out from around him and immediately locking them around his neck, pulling him close as you kissed him messily. He didn’t help at all with the mess, barely able to control himself as he pushed himself into you, his tongue running along your bottom lip within seconds. You welcomed him in though, fingers interlacing with the bottom of his hair as you pulled him even closer.

Still grinding, even with your tongues interlocking, he was wanting so much more. He pulled away his eyes half lidded as his pupils dilated with lust. “Proszę, baby, fuck me already~... Boże, I can feel how wet and I just... Potrzebuję cię, kochanie~... I’ll do anything...”

His begging turned you on even more, it made you not want to do as he said... just so you could hear it more. But you couldn’t resist it either. Slowly you pulled yourself off his lap, just to tease him more, build more anticipation in him. He helped out, wiggling his hips down the bed more so they were parallel with it. You reached down to him, holding him by the base, feeling it throb with just your fingers as you lined yourself up. Slowly slipping your entrance on him, you expect some more resistance with the lack of foreplay, but after a couple little pushes, you were able to take him in, moaning as you slowly slid down, taking him to the base. He watched for as long as he could, until he just succumbed to his own pleasure, moaning softly and closing his eyes, head falling back just barely. You smiled devilishly, seeing him already losing himself in you. You wait for his eyes to open, looking at you with such desire before you asked, “...You ready?”

He chuckled softly, biting his lip as he bucked his hips up, egging you on to continue, “As ready as ever... How about you?”

You rolled your eyes at him light-heartedly, putting your hands on his shoulders as you slowly moved up. “Mmm~... maybe I should tie your legs next time too.”

He laughed, letting out a deep exhale through pursed lips, “Don’t know about that one, baby... Nggh~... already... hard enough as is.” As you slid back down, he leaned forward, getting right by your ear as you gasped, him doing another little thrust to push himself deeper inside. “Nie masz pojęcia, co mi zrobiłeś... How badly I want to grab your hips and fuck you so hard right now.” His voice came out as a growl... so deep and nearly threatening... but with him restrained, he was unable to act on such empty threats of good times.

“Heheh~... But your hands are tied, quite literally...” You ran your hands down his shoulders, running them down to where the ropes crossed in front, holding onto that for balance as you pulled yourself up again. He groaned, kissing onto your jaw as he cursed under his breath. “I’m the one in control here, Sobi... Mmm~, and I’ll fuck you so good if you just sit back and enjoy it...”

You felt him nod softly, lifting off your jaw as he met your eyes again, reaching right by his head before going down again, starting your rhythm of riding him. He watched you carefully as you took him in so expertly, his mouth sitting slightly agape as his breath got heavier. You started to roll your hips, earning a more needy moan from him as his head went back, and you saw slightly behind him, his hands balling into fists as his moan turned to a whimper. You felt so powerful right now, turning this huge, strong man to whining and begging under you, despite you still having to look up at him as you hit the tip of his cock. That thick hard cock too... you couldn’t get enough of it. When your hips rolled just right, it hit that spot inside that had you shutting your eyes as well, clinging even harder on the ropes. So focused on riding him, you could only let out heavy pants but once he bucked his hips, seeing him hit the spot inside you, you couldn’t help but cry out, cursing under your breath.

As you continued, he kept up his own little thrust inside you, making you moan more and more. Part of you wondered if he was chasing his own climax, or if he was just trying to make you feel good. Everytime you moaned though, breathily saying his name, you would see his arm wiggle, shoulder desperately trying to reach to you but being unsuccessful. He pulled himself forward, resting his head on the crook of your neck as he moaned more, his thrusts getting slightly more erratic. “Mój Boże~... proszę, baby... I’m so... Kurwa~, I’m so fucking close, are you?”

You giggled softly, feeling yourself on the edge but just barely there yourself. “Just about~... Ahh~! I-I’ll get there soon, just finish whenever, babe...”

“C-can I cum inside you? Please, please, please, kochanie, I want to so badly, pleeeeaase~...” He desperately whined, whimpering as he started to increase the pace of his thrusts, making you moan and your own climax approached just as quickly.

You giggled softly, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Oh~... you will finish inside me... Nggh~... Come on, Sobi... Do it, cum inside me make me yours~”

Those words pushed him over the edge, biting onto your shoulder as he pushed down as hard as he could, cumming with a growl that turned quickly to a whimper. Erratically pushing himself deeper inside with little thrusts, you felt the warmth go even deeper inside you. Those deep thrusts against you nearly sent you over the edge, but as he slowly came down from his high, he pulled back, thrusting harshly as he let out one final spurt of cum right into your g-spot. Feeling that warmth all pressed against you, you hit your climax, moaning out his name as you came. He admired the sight, finally coming down fully to see you shaking, bouncing slightly on his still hard cock. He kissed your neck, encouraging you as you came down. “So good, kochanie... You fucked me so well, kotku... Moja piękna dziewczyna~... so beautiful cumming for me...”

You caught your breath, coming down to his wonderful words, leaning over and catching his lips as they lifted, bringing him in for a much more passionate kiss. When you leaned back, opening your eyes slowly, the both of you were smiling, unable to hold back the love you felt just from gazing at each other.

“Thank you, kochanie...” He wiggled his arms, making sure you could see it. “Now, could you uh... untie me? I just want to hold you now...”

Translations! Masz to, kochanie- You got this, baby Tak- Yes Jak to- Like this, jak being the comparative "like" rather than the enjoyment "like" O, ja pierdolę- Oh, fuck me Kotku- kitty/kitten Kurwa- fuck O mój kurwa boże- Oh my fucking god Miśku- bear (diminutive) Pragnę cię tak bardzo, kochanie- I want you so bad, baby Proszę- Please Potrzebuję cię- I need you Nie masz pojęcia, co mi zrobiłeś- You have no idea what you've done to me Moja piękna dziewczyna- My beautiful girl

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #gromsko #gromsko mw2 #gromsko x reader #mw2 x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #sobiesław kościuszko x reader #sobiesław kościuszko #grom writing

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