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marthawrites · 7 months

Note

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog.

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too.

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious.

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head.

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight!

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there.

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way.

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen.

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door.

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang.

Aemond.

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished.

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else.

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?"

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt.

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages.

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages.

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress.

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose.

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?"

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure.

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please."

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast. “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall.

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity.

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side.

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said.

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts.

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl."

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @evermorre

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #modern aemond #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond imagine #request

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bad268 · 29 days

Note

hii, can i request a pedri fic? pedri always sleeps early and reader is a night owl, one night he tries to stay up late with her but hes really tired and miserable (possibly on the verge of tears) and the reader js takes care of him

The Early Bird & The Night Owl (Pedri X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/FCB

Requested: Clearly (may or may not have written this at 2 AM...)

Warnings: sleep meds (1 time)

POV: Third Person (She/her) (No Y/n)

W.C. 1405

Summary: Her schedule is crazy, and Pedri just wants some of her time.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“She’s a student, of course, she was a night owl,” is what Pedri always told himself. However, with his training schedule and games, he had to be up early almost every morning. Most of the time, he was getting up just as she was going to sleep or right around the same time. It’s not like she slept the entire day away. They had late afternoons together and evenings, but Pedri usually was in bed by 9 PM. That’s when she would start her assignments.

It was hard. Working on a master’s degree while working in an overseas company was difficult, and she had to alter her sleep schedule to keep up with her studies and her job.

Pedri understood. No matter how many times he told her to quit her job and that could help her financially until she finished her degree, she always said no. She wanted to work with this company after graduating, so quitting just to reapply in a year or so is not worth it. Plus, it took her almost a year to get the job in the first place! She did not want to give up the progress she already made.

Pedri understood that too! He had to work extremely hard to get his place in FC Barcelona, and he would never discount the effort he’s seen her put in. It was her dream company, and he knew that once she moved up, she would have a better schedule. He selfishly preferred it to semi-align with his own, but he would have to wait and see. That’s the joy of working for an overseas company!

At the end of every quarter, her company gave everyone a weekend off, so she was able to attend Pedri’s match for once. He did not know until she took a melatonin candy right after dinner.

“What’s that for?” Pedri asked when he saw her grab one of the candies while he was putting the leftovers away.

“I need to wake up early tomorrow if I’m going to go with you to your match,” she said as if it were obvious as she ate the candy. When Pedri did not respond, she turned to see him frozen in front of the refrigerator. She giggled as she moved to close the refrigerator door and said, “Not expecting that?”

“Not exactly,” He muttered as he wrapped his arms around her waist and hid his face in your neck. “You’re wearing my kit, right?”

“What else would I wear?”

The next day, they woke up bright and early. It was weird for her to be waking up as the sun was coming up, but she knew she would have to pull an all-nighter tonight or tomorrow to get back on her schedule before Monday. That was a problem for the future. She was going to cherish the normal day she could have with Pedri before having to go back to her normal.

They made it to the stadium just in time for them to start warming up for the match. She stayed down on the sidelines, and to say some of the players were surprised to see her would be an understatement. Gavi was the most excited to see her mainly because he hung out with Pedri the most off the field and by extension, her.

As soon as Gavi saw her walk in with Pedri, he ran at her full speed and accidentally knocked her over in the process.

“Oi, get off me, Gavi!” She yelled as she pushed him to roll off her chest. “I get it! It’s been a while, but I did not expect to be attacked!”

“I can’t help it! It’s been forever!” Gavi defended himself as he helped her stand back up. “No work for once?”

“Nope,” She said as they caught up with Pedri on the field. He was busy kicking a few practice goals as a warmup, so she found a spot off to the side to stay out of everyone’s way. “I got the weekend off, so I woke up early to watch my guys chase a ball up and down a field for 90 minutes.”

“The best 90 minutes of your weekend, I bet,” He laughed before being called onto the field.

She stood off to the side for their entire warmup, taking pictures of her boyfriend (as one does) to post later (or keep to herself, she doesn't know yet). She watched Pedri play against Gavi in a couple of practice defenses. One time when he got the ball, he sliced it left and immediately covered his face, laughing as Gavi teased him.

Then it was time for the game.

It seemed like they had more of a reason to win. Maybe it was because they knew she was there, but they would never admit that. They ended up winning the game 3-0, and Pedri scored the first one. They always had a promise that if Pedri scored the first goal of the game, she would buy the first round of drinks. Sure, he was never happy about it being the gentleman he is, but a bet’s a bet. He’ll take a free drink even if it means he’ll give it back to her one way or another.

They went out to dinner with the rest of the team, and true to her word, she bought the first round. Everyone had more than come around to expecting it sometimes, but only Gavi knew when it actually happened. He was there when they made the bet.

The boys had practice the next day because they were working towards the World Cup, so they knew they could not stay out too late. Not to mention they are all pretty early birds, so they were clearing out of the bar by 8.

By the time they got home, she was thriving. She naturally got a boost of energy when the sun went down, and even though she did not sleep in as much as normal, she felt wide awake. Even after Pedri got out of the shower closer to 9:30, she was wide awake. She was blasting through a paper, waiting for Pedri to emerge from the bathroom, and when he did, he collapsed in her lap.

She moved her laptop to the side and moved her attention to her boyfriend on her lap. She ran her hands through his wet hair before running across his shoulders, scratching her nails down his back.

“Stop,” He whined. “If you don’t, I’ll fall asleep.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” She chuckled lightly.

“No, I never get to see you anymore,” He complained as he flipped over to face up at her. That’s when she noticed the tears that filled his eyes. Suddenly, she felt so selfish for putting her schooling and work before him. “Our schedules clash so much, I feel like I never get to hang out with you.”

“Pedri, why haven’t you told me this before?” She asked concerned. She moved her hands from his shoulder to hold his face in her hands as she wiped some of the fallen tears. “I would have figured something out if it was getting that bad, but you need to tell me. I can’t know if it’s too much if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s selfish to ask you to stop your education and working your dream job,” He sighed as he looked anywhere but her. However, she was still holding his face, so she brought his face to meet hers as she leaned down. “I don’t want to be that unsupportive boyfriend.”

“You are the most supportive boyfriend for going through all of this pain for my happiness,” She replied as she started tearing up a little bit as well. “I will always take a break if it means you feel better. How about I take all of next week off? We can do whatever we want since you don’t have a match. I bet I could bribe Xavi to give you at least a day off from training.”

“I would love that,” he sighed happily as he closed his eyes and leaned deeper into her lap as if a weight was lifted off of him. “I would really love that.”

“Good,” She whispered as she leaned down to kiss his lips. “Now, get up here. I think it’s time we fall asleep together for the second night in a row.”

~~~~~

#pedri imagine #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri x reader #pedri #fc barcelona x reader #fc barça #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #futbol #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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bunny-is-cute · 2 months

Text

The messages between Stolas and Blitzø 🥺

Transcript below spoiler

Stolas: I'M SORRY IF ANYTHING I SAID OR DID MAY HAVE OFFENDED YOU TONIGHT.

Blitzo : ITZ WUTEVS

Stolas : NEXT TIME YOU COME OVER. MAYBE WE CAN TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED AT OZZIE'S?

Blitzo : Y?

Stolas : I'M SORRY NEVERMIND , IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL. I WAS JUST WORRIED ABOUT YOU. YOU SEEMED VERY UPSET AND YOU TOOK OFF SO FAST. BUT MAYBE I READ TOO MUCH INTO THAT. I'M GLAD IF THAT'S NOT THE CASE. I WASN'T UPSET EITHER I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERENT'T AND OBVIOUSLY YOU CAN HANDEL ANY STUPID JOKE A CLOWN CAN MAKE. ASMODEUS CAN BE VERY INVASIVE IN HIS HUMOR. BUT I THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY FUNNY MYSELF. WHAT HE SAID ABOUT ME AT LEAST. I ENJOY BEING THE SUBJECT OF JEST. MAYBE YOU CAN SAY MEAN THINGS TO ME TOO NEXT TIME YOU COME OVER.

Stolas : IF YOU WANT?

Blitzo : SHUR

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Stolas : THANKS FOR HELPING ME WITH VIA TODAY, YOU WERE GREAT IN THAT HUMAN SHOW.

Blitzo : NP

Stolas : ARE YOU COMING OVER TONIGHT WITH THE BOOK?

Blitzo : LYKE OLWAYS

Stolas : IF YOU DON'T FEEL LIKE COMING, THAT'S OK! I'M SURE I CAN DO WITHOUT IT FOR ONE MONTH :)

Blitzo : K

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Stolas : DO YOU PLAN TO VISIT TOMORROW I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN BUSY, AND WORKING HARD. MAYBE IF YOU'D PREFER, WE CAN SKIP THE BEDROOM AND JUST RELAX MAYBE? I'M SURE YOU NEED A BREAK.

Blitzo : WUTEVR U WANT, ITS UR NIGHT

Stolas : IF YOU'RE NOT UP FOR IT, OR TOO TIRED, THAT IS PREFECTLY FINE. NO PRESSURE, I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING WITH THE GRIMOIRE TILL NEXT MONTH.

Blitzo : MAE BEE

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Stoles : MAYBE INSTEAD OF OUR USUAL ARRANGEMENT ON THE FULL MOON WE COULD PROPERLY CATCH UP THIS WEEK MAYBE MONDAY?

Blitzo : I MITE B BSUY

Stolas : I WOULDN'T WANT TO BOTHER YOU!

Stolas : YOU CAN ALWAYS DROP OFF THE BOOK ON THE FULL MOON AND I CAN LEAVE IT FOR YOU IF YOU ARE TOO TIRED TO DO ANYTHING...

Stolas : BUT I WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU.

Blitzo : K

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Today 17:49 PM

Blitzo : GIT BEVVER SWOON :(

Stolas : THANKS YOU BLITZ, THAT MEANS A LOT.

Stolas : I MIGHT BE HERE A WHILE, IF YOU EVER WANT TO VISIT. 💜

#stolas x blitz #blitzo #blitzø #helluva boss #stolitz #stolas #stolas goetia #text messages

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triple-mayday · 1 year

Text

There’s hella theories floating around about the reason behind Tucker Carlson’s sudden divorce with Fox News, but there’s one that I love the most.

Its the sexiest, pettiest, most delicious bullshit to ever be conceived. Behold:

We know for a fact that Tucker got bitch slapped across New York City by Rupert Murdoch himself. Not only that, but baby boy was laid off sometime on Friday and notified only on Monday, when he came to work. So, this unforeseen development was like a kick in the balls. For the uninitiated, Rupert Murdoch is the name of the demonic entity responsible for the creation of Fox News.

Tuckerson and Rupert had a special relationship. According to Tucker himself, the now ex-host was “100% [Rupert’s] bitch” (we love a proud sugar baby). Tucker was basically a glorified court jester - he cosplayed for daddy Rupert as a pro-worker, anti-elitist, anti-establishment, Christian, relatable everyman that broke republicans could relate to. That was, of course, a load of horseshit. As said by Tucker himself.

You see, back in Mesozoic Era (circa 2008-2011), our boy was an active participant in shock radio programs where he paraded himself as an open and proud elitist and a self-admitted trust fund baby.

All of this deliciousness speaks for itself. Tucker Carlson is a chameleon that changes his face depending on what’s resonating best with his conservative audience. Which brings us to the nearly orgasmic culmination of events that could have possibly led to Tucker’s current unemployment.

Tuck roleplayed as a hardcore Christian for quite some time. On that fateful Friday night, he turned it up to 100 for his speech at the conservative think tank Heritage Foundation’s 50th anniversary gala. Bubba was popping off, calling abortions “child sacrifices” and demanding daily prayers. The audience loved it. Rupert? Not so much.

The thing is, for Rupert business comes before fascism. Grandpa worships money, Jesus is merely a profitable business strategy. For a businessman, the rabid fundie shit was already incredibly off-putting. And Tucker’s villain monologue just happened to be the last drop in the bucket that was already filled to the brim by Murdoch’s ex. That’s right. The chair of Fox News broke off his recent engagement because his fiancée was a Jesus freak.

Now onto the good shit. Rupert’s ex had a favorite show. Guess what that show was?

Tucker Carlson Tonight

The woman in question even had tête-à-tête chit chats with her favorite TV personality, thanks to her connection to Fox News CEO.

Tensions were rising in the Murdoch household. The ex-fiancée’s obsession with Tucker only added fuel to the fire. The woman went as far as declaring that Carlson was a messenger from God. One day, Tucker had a dinner at his boss’ estate. In the middle of dinner the Jesus lady pulled out a Bible and began discussing the book of Exodus with Carlson.

Rupert just sat there like 👁️👄👁️

In the end, the man was too freaked out by Christian fundamentalism and kicked Tucker out after his particularly awful speech. It was also a cute little fuck you to his ex cause now her favorite show got canceled

This is just one theory, but it’s my favorite, so I prefer it above all else, and now you get to experience this beauty with me

God, I adore American politics

#us politics #tucker carlson #fox news #rupert murdoch #fundie shit #this whole establishment is a fucking circus #I love América nowhere else will you see this kind of fuckfest on full display #christian fundamentalism

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rvbysrorld · 1 year

Text

Sleeptalk

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings:starts with fluff but quickly turns very angsty. Elektra. Talk of s3 matt, but this is set after s3.

Matt sleep talks.

He doesn’t think he does.

But he does.

At first it was cute. Incoherent words jumbled with soft snores and adorable mumbles. The first time it happened it was 11:37pm on a Tuesday night, just after Matt got home from work and finally had time to relax. You two were watching a movie, not one of Matt’s preferred ways to pass time, but he’d rather spend time with you while listening to a movie, than to be without you fighting bad guys in the middle of the night.

You two were sitting beside each other with a few Blankets draped over your legs and torsos. Matt’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders lightly, just so he could feel that you were still there. You got just over half way into the movie when you noticed Matt dozing off. His head continuously drooping back onto the back of the couch until he would shake himself awake and his head would shoot up and his eyes would fly open. You watched him with adoration in your eyes for a few seconds until you decided that it would be best if he gets some rest.

You tried to manoeuvre his body so he was resting against your chest. But when you tried to move him his eyes opened and he took a sharp breath in as he woke.

“Shhhh Matty it’s alright, I’m just gonna lay you down so you can get some sleep.” You whispered.

It took him a minute to get his surroundings in check but when he did he laid flat on your chest with his face smushed in between your breasts.

“Mm’ wasnt sleeping..” he mumbled.

“Don’t lie to me matty, I know you’re tired”

You ran your fingers threw his soft brown hair until he started to snore. Then, after you heard him start to mumble into the fabric of your shirt.

“What was that honey?” You whisper

He continued to mumble and whisper incoherent phrases and you thought he was waking up until-

“Mm…I love you.” And then it stopped.

Wait, is he asleep..?

Your heart skipped a beat and stuttered until you calmed yourself down automatically, not wanting to risk waking him up. You run your hands through Matt’s brown hair, watching it turn a light shade of red and orange when the light hit it. You then kissed him on the forehead and whispered “I love you too matt”. In the morning Matt totally ignored and disregarded everything you said when you tried to tell him what happened the night before.

“No y/n. I don’t sleeptalk.”

“I heard it”

“No you didn’t babe.”

The one other time Matt sleep talked was a little different. It was 12am on a Monday. You had gotten home after Matt, a rare occurrence in the Murdock house hold. Foggy always tries to get matt to go home early on days where he knows matt stayed up all night daredevil-ing. He sees the bags under his eyes and the way he has to feel a line in a report over and over again because he keeps losing focus. Some nights he even falls asleep at his desk. But he never leaves unless he it utterly exhausted. Like tonight.

He had been dozing off at his desk and hadn’t even heard foggy open the door and walk into the room until he tapped Matt on the shoulder. Matt jumped awake and held his hands out in a fighting position, ready for any potential enemies or threats. But when he smelled the almost suffocating scent of foggys aftershave that Matt was forced to get used to, he relaxed.

“Hey buddy..” foggy says awkwardly, his eyes wide from the confusing interaction. “You gotta go home.”

“I’m fine foggy-“

“I wasn’t asking.”

So he went home. And immediately after entering the door he just managed to walk down the hallway before collapsing on the red futon and passing out completely.

And when you got home, that’s exactly what you saw. His back against the couch, his legs and arms splayed every which way, and his head tilted back with his mouth hanging open. How angelic you thought. You approached him and looked for any open wounds or bruises, something that would cause him to pass out like this, but after some time you nailed it down to one answer. Exhaustion.

You tried to move him so his head was up and his arm and legs were under his favourite thick blanket. You were walking towards the kitchen when you heard the familiar sound of Matt mumbling in his sleep. You continued walking to the kitchen and started making him some dinner for when he wakes up. Also silently listening to him and chuckling whenever you managed to catch a few familiar words he said in his sleep. You were dicing up carrots when you heard it.

“Elektra…Baby.”

You stopped what you were doing immediately. Elektra died…three years ago. You helped Matt make it out of the pit of depression he was in when it happened and after it all ended, he told you he loved you. As much as you tried to get him to open up to you about it, he wouldn’t budge telling you he was fine and he is just happy you are with him. But now it seems clear it was all a lie. Matt still loved her. He never called you baby, always sweetheart or honey, never baby. She was baby. A groan and the creak of the sofa brought you out of your thoughts.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong? Your hearts beating faster than normal.”

You look up at him and although he can’t see them, you find yourself trying to hide the tears in your eyes.

“Nothing Matt.”

He looks sceptical for a moment but then he replies

“Alright…I’m gonna take a shower ok? Call if you need anything” he starts to walk off but pauses and turns around to face me “are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah honey…of course” you confirm.

He nods and walks off. And you find yourself praying to god that he never sleeptalks again.

#matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock #daredevil

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 6 days

Text

05/05/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Leslie Jones; Nathan Foad; Damien Gerard; Watch Parties; New Event Calendar; Fan Spotlight; MerMay; Mini Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika Image Edition.

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys an Rosie were out at the Bagpiper's Ball last night and we got a couple crumbs as a result!

Source: HMiller's Instagram

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie Jones was wrapping up at "Netflix is a Joke!" and got to hangout with some fellow comedians.

Source: @atsukocomedy's Instagram

== Nathan Foad ==

Everyone's getting to see Nathan lately!

Source: Nathan's IG

== Damien Gerard ==

Our Father Teach got a Millennium Falcon for the 4th of May! It's just really nice to see him so excited!

Source: Damian's Instagram

== Watch Party Reminders ==

Palm Royale WP May 9 via @LCWebsXOXO with the lovely @ dominicburgess approx. 4pm EDT/9pm BST/1pm PST! Available on Apple TV

Wrecked S2 WP May 6-May 10 3:30pm PT / 6:30pm ET / 11:30pm BST! If you need access feel free to dm me here at @gentlebeardsbarngrill or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

== New SaveOFMD Event Calendar ==

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

@melvisik was kind enough to include another of Ned Low's turncoat crew! Vincent--TJ Snow! (Who's mum Stede hoped was well)

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

More colouring pages from @patchworkpiratebear!

= Big Gay Energy Pod =

A new episode of Big Gay Energy Podcast is out! Watch / Listen how you prefer: Big Gay Energy Podcast Linktr.ee

Source: Big Gay Energy Podcast Instagram

== MerMay ==

= erostheartist =

The fantabulous @erostheartist is back with Day 4: Treasure Hunt! Featuring Zaddy, head on over to their blog for more MerMay Content!

= Snejpowa =

More MerMay from our sweet and talented @snejpowa! This time it's Day 5 - Lighthouse!

= blueberreads =

For Day 5: Lighthouse, our remarkable @blueberreads reminded us that they did in fact make an OFMD point and click adventure! Have you played it yet? It's pretty great, and gave me a lot of good feels on some hard days. Check it out below if you'd like! Co-captained with @eldawee 🏴‍☠️ Play here: https://dawee.itch.io/lighthouse

= Hannah's Handmade Magic =

Joining the crew spotlight section today is Hannah's Handmade Magic! They've been doing these adorable chibi-esque MerStede and Ed's over on Instagram! Feel free to check them out below and send them some love if you have IG!

Day 5: Lighthouse

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A post shared by hannahs_handmade_magic (@hannahs_handmade_magic)

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Day 4: Treasure Hunt

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by hannahs_handmade_magic (@hannahs_handmade_magic)

instagram

Day 3: A Curse Is A Curse

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A post shared by hannahs_handmade_magic (@hannahs_handmade_magic)

instagram

Day 2: Plunder

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A post shared by hannahs_handmade_magic (@hannahs_handmade_magic)

instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies! I hope the beginning of your work week well and not dealing with too much nonsense. I'm still recovering a bit, but I saw this and thought of you all. Don't forget that sometimes our brains tell us we're not good enough, but they're lying lovelies <3 Be kind to yourself, Happy Monday <3

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

So today I've decided not to go with gifs because I coudn't find one from the met gala. I figured we needed a reminder before the new Met Gala tonight of how fabulous these two look in fine clothes.

#Instagram #ofmd daily recap #taika waititi #rhys darby #ofmd #our flag means death #damien gerard #leslie jones #nathan foad #even calendar

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teddyeyeseddie · 10 months

Text

To Hell I Go

Open the Gate

Bull Rider!Steve X Reader

masterlist

warnings: reader calls steve cowboy a lot, a party, drunk reader, steve smokes some party darts, he also drinks budweiser, and chews gum like a cow, injury to main character, use of a belt for punishment, minimal understanding of how bull riding works

(a/n: poor baby stevie :( thank you @lofaewrites for looking this over!! Love you eternally)

Now Playing: Open The Gate

Monday comes faster than Steve would have preferred. The dawn creeps into his room as he sits up in his bed, groaning at the way the sun perfectly breaks through his curtains. He grabs his phone off of the end table, bringing it in front of his face in order to unlock it. He smiles when he sees a goodnight text from you. The timestamp reads 2:17 so Steve prides himself when he realizes you probably went to bed thinking about him.

Good Morning, Dandelion

He gets up from bed, sitting on the edge in order to stretch out his limbs. He’s about to make his way to the bathroom when his phone buzzes in its place on the end table.

Good Morning, Cowboy

He smiles to himself, quickly picking up the phone as soon as he sees the preview of the message.

What are you doing up so early, summoning all the ranchers?

Steve abandons his phone, heading to his closet in order to put on his work clothes. He settles for a pair of wranglers and an old competition shirt. He shrugs on his denim jacket before grabbing his hat and heading out for the morning.

While he waits for his coffee to brew, he pulls out his phone.

Girls have ranching duties too

Steve has to bite his lip, because the idea of you doing ranch chores has his mind whirring. He pours his coffee into his yeti, mindful to shake the images of you away before doing so as to not spill and scald himself.

He pushes his way out the front door, hopping into his truck and heading over to where the cattle are kept. When he gets there, Jamie and Richard are already at work.

Steve spends his day riding between the main house and the barn all day, finally giving up driving his K10 and begging Eddie to take one of the horses or his beloved razor. Eddie relents, giving him the keys to the razor since the horse Steve usually rides was being used for the lesson Eddie was giving.

Steve smells like shit by the time he is done working for the day. He called it quits at around 3, leaving Richard and Jamie to tie up some loose ends.

He heads up to his bedroom, shucking off his clothes before hopping into the shower. He rinses the day from his body, careful to wash under his nails and behind his ears. He wallows in the rinse for a while, the ache in his bones washing away in the warmth of the water.

Once Steve decides it's been enough, he gets out. He wraps a towel around his waist, fetching his phone out of his pants.

Having friends over at my place tonight, care to come?

Steve makes his decision rather quickly as he gets dressed without any hesitation.

Steve’s boots crunch on the gravel as he makes his way down the driveway. He had to park almost on the main road given how many people were at this party? Hangout? Steve didn’t know what it was.

He pushes his way through the gate he had seen people going in and out of, rounding the corner to reveal a gorgeous backyard. There are people swimming, enjoying the summer sunset in the water. Some are around a fire, and some are mingling on the deck. Steve feels very overwhelmed as he stands at the edge of the yard, unable to find you. He’s about to duck inside in order to track down a beer, but your voice stops him.

“Steve!” you exclaim, smiling up at him as you wrap your towel around your body.

“Dandy,” Steve tips his hat, smiling down at her as he chews the gum in his mouth.

“So glad you could make it,” you grab his hand, leading him to the deck before bending over to dig in a cooler. Steve looks away in respect to you, you take notice and blush at what a gentleman he is.

He stays with you for the duration of the night, sipping on a budweiser and smoking the occasional party dart. He keeps his hand on your lower back when you push through crowds of people, your cheeks flushing each time he does so.

You begin to sway in your spot when you make it to the back garden, Steve settles you down once you reach a set of patio furniture that is tucked away.

“You okay, darlin?”

“M’ ok cowbo- hic,”

“You’re real drunk, ain’t cha?” he questions, you offering a small giggle. You pinch your fingers together and hold it up to your eye.

“Just a teensy bit,”

“Come on, Dandelion. Let’s get you where you need to be, yeah?”

Steve hunts down someone to help get you to your room, finally giving up when the beat of the music becomes too much for him. He comes back to where he left you, groaning when he sees you’ve fallen asleep, he gently nudges you awake, startling you as he does so.

He helps you up from your seat, hand finding its way back to your lower back, his other hand holding yours to keep you steady. You direct him to your room when he oh so politely asks you where it is at.

“Darling not for any other reason than getting you to bed safe, where is your bedroom?”

You simply giggle and attempt to lead the way.

You finally make it to your room at the back of the hall, Steve opening the door and smiling at the decor that litters the walls. There’s horse decals peeling away from your old bookshelf, stuffed animals are strewn across your mattress, he even has the privilege of seeing your award from your 4th grade spelling bee.

“Please stop looking, it's embarrassing,” you mumble from your spot on the bed. Steve grabs a sweater that is hanging on the back of your chair and hands it to you before turning towards your drawers.

“Where can I find pajama bottoms?” he questions softly, his voice gravely and smooth.

“Third- hic drawer,”

He fishes out a rather childish pair. They’re a soft yellow with little owls littering the pant legs. You blush as you reach your hand out to take them from him.

“Listen um, I’m gonna get goin’...” he backs away from your bed and towards the door, tipping his hat to you as he is about to dip out of your door.

“Wait- Steve,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, Dandy?”

“You won’t tell your daddy I threw a party at the ranch right? Mine will have my behind if he found out,”

“I don’t kiss and tell, darlin,”

“And I’ll see you again, even though I embarrassed myself?”

“You didn’t embarrass yourself, just got a little too drunk is all. Of course you’ll see me again,”

He doesn’t call, you don’t see him again.

He knows why he didn’t call, he couldn’t get out of his own head. His dad’s voice echoed in his mind, “I made you,”

Normally, Steve did a good job at keeping his dad’s words in the back of his mind, but in times like this when self hatred was such an easy pill to swallow, the ammunition was there. Steve knew deep down he was right, his dad made him. Through hard work and enough times at the end of his father’s belt, Steve Harrington would always be just like his father, made in his image.

He sees his mother, Steve knows she wants a better relationship with his father. He knows she aches and yearns for a man who is present and loving. Steve knows his father takes his mother for granted. Steve saw all of this and knew he loved just like his father. All or nothing.

When he looked at you and saw all your potential and grace, Steve decided he wasn’t going to be like his father and ruin you.

Not only was he equipped with daddy issues, but he had his lifestyle to take into consideration as well. It had him hopping from location to location, so he told himself it wouldn't work. Steve knew you’d find yourself a cowboy, no matter how much he wished it would be him, he told himself it couldn’t be.

But now, here he is, telling himself that that’s not how things have to be. He has a string of hope tied to his heart, willing that this won't go belly up. He fiddles with his phone, thumb hovering over your number as he lays his head on his pillow. He finally decides fuck it and calls you.

“Steve?” you’re confused as you answer the phone, the two weeks of radio silence having broken your heart. You spent every waking moment waiting for his phone call, finally giving up after a week had passed.

“Hey, Dandelion,” Steve rasps, sucking in a breath when he shifts on the bed.

“It’s been awhile, cowboy,” you say, a little bit of irritation lacing your tone.

“Sorry about that, darling. Had important cowboy stuff to do,” Steve lies. “Just a few things to settle away before I could get to ya, darlin,” He wishes he could tell her the whole truth but he knows that would be grounds to scare anyone away. He figures he will save the boo hoo my daddy doesn’t love me mess for when they make it to third base.

“Watched you while you were in Cheyenne,” you say, getting up from your place on the bed as you begin to pace.

Steve's mind plays back to his weekend, nerves flowing through his body, making its way up his neck, flushing his face. He was in the chute, ready to take his ride in Cheyenne. He grabs the braided strap, holding on tight as the chute is opened. The bull he is riding, Tank, begins to buck. Steve’s body ebbs and flows as the bull erratically attempts to get Steve off of it.

The bull gets exceptionally high after Steve has been at it for several seconds, the bull bucking him off, Steve falling to the ground. The next two days were filled with endless bull rides, broken ribs and dirt. He rode hard and stayed on long, his score on his final ride coming out to a 93.4, winning him the competition in Cheyenne.

He comes home days later on a red eye flight, his mom picking him up in the city. His bones ache when he gets into his bed, his torso bruised by the falls he had taken throughout the weekend.

The two of you talk about it for a while, the casual conversation flowing easily between you two.

“I really am sorry I went MIA, Dandelion,” he says with a small sigh, angry at himself for letting his own insecurities cloud his ability to be normal with a woman. He was a gentleman through and through but daddy issues coupled with his irrational fear of abandonment made for a concoction that was too dangerous for anyone to swallow, let alone you.

“It’s okay, just don't let it happen again,”

And he doesn't, every morning you wake up a “Good Morning Dandelion” text was always waiting on your phone. He would send you pictures of every dandelion he would find while on his ranching duties, he even sent a selfie with one tucked into his hat. He kept it there all day.

And it’s still there when he takes you out to dinner the night before he leaves for regionals, which is luckily a few towns over.

“Are you nervous?” she questions. He Oshrugs his shoulders, taking a sip of his coke.

“Not really? I mean kind of? I have to ride this bull. His name is “To Hell I Go” so that is intimidating in and of itself,” he says with a chuckle, rolling a straw wrapper between his fingers and twisting it around his finger.

“Sounds scary,”

“Yeah, but I’ve got it, I’m the best out there right now, at least that’s what I gotta tell myself to not- pardon my french- shit my pants,” he states as he begins to twist the ends of the straw wrapper together.

“You’re good at what you do, it’s good to be confident,” he shrugs his shoulders at your words before reaching his hand across the table to take yours. He slips a paper ring around your finger and smiles widely at you.

“Something to remember me by,”

“You’re only gonna be gone 3 days cowboy, plus it’s only a few towns over. Maybe I can make it out to a ride or two,”

“Don’t sweat it if you can’t, I’ll be sweaty and dirty anyways,”

“Just how I like em, cowboy,”

Steve has ridden in 3 of his 5 rides, avoiding going up with To Hell I Go. His coach pulls him aside after his last go and tells him what to expect next.

“The next one is it, kid. To Hell I Go, you last at least 8 on him you have this in the bag,” he says as he pats Steve on the shoulder.

Steve spends the next hour settling his nerves, he knows he’s got this. He can handle Ajax no problem back home, what's 2,000 more pounds gonna do, right?

Sweat slips down his temples as he gets situated on To Hell I Go. His hands grip the braided leather tightly, clammy hands making it hard to hold on.

You’re up in the stands watching, you were able to beg your boss to let you cut out of work early to come see Steve ride. You watch him make his way to the chute, shoulders pushed back and confident as he walks towards his enemy of the night.

He keeps his head down, focused on going the required 8 seconds. He’s got this, he’s always got this.

The chute opens.

To Hell I Go comes out of the gate much like a bat out of hell, strong, ferocious and fast.

Steve holds on the best he can. 3 seconds. He’s found a rhythm. Four seconds. His grip is tight. Five seconds. He’s got this. Six Seconds. He’s totally got this. Seven seconds. He totally does not have this.

To Hell I Go delivers one off rhythm buck that sends Steve flying. He got so comfortable and it all happened so fast, Steve didn’t have time to tuck and roll. He lands to the floor of the corral with a loud dense thud.

The next thing Steve can remember is white hot pain radiating throughout his shoulder and arm. He writhes on the gorund as others distract To Hell I Go. His coach and the medical team flood the corral and are next to him in seconds. Steve knows it’s his shoulder, it has to be. He knew he felt it break, the loud crack resonated in his ears despite the crowd.

They’re able to assess the situation rather quickly and get his shoulder stable enough to get him off the ground. They offer him a stretcher but he politely declines, walking off the dirt and back behind the chutes. The ambulance is waiting for him, Steve hating the theatrics of it all as he loads up into the vehicle. Before they can close the doors, he remembers you.

“Fuck, we can’t leave without Dandelion,” Steve shouts to his coach.

“Dandelion this, Dandelion that! Boy, your shoulder is broken.”

“I’m not goin til we find her,”

“Well, too bad,” The paramedic slams the door shut at the request of his coach, driving away and to the hospital.

#Steve x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve x you #Steve Harrington x you #steve x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve fluff #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington angst #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington series #Steve Harrington chapter #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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plotwholls · 2 years

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Okay so I’ve literally been searching for two days to find this post, but I can’t, so if anyone can find me the post about the League trying to figure out how crazy Amity is, PLEASE send it my way bc jfc I hate not crediting people and this is going to GRATE ON MY NERVES. Anyway.

Basic premise is that the JL sees the town goes “uh,,, that’s sus” and decides that they can’t just bust in and try and figure out if they’re crazy. So. In order to be better accepted, what do they do?

Well, they make the worst possible decision that they didn’t know was dumb: they sent a shrink.

The principal cleared her throat. “And… you’re here to apply for our, uh… what did you say?”

“The school counsel—”

“Ah yes! That!”

Dinah tried to keep her expression neutral while she internally chanted “whatthefuck whatthefuck whattheffffuuuuuuccccckkkkkkkkkk—”

The principal seemed to chew on her apprehension for a minute before giving Dinah a wavering smile and rubber stamping it. “…You can start next Friday.”

“But it’s Saturday…? I can start Mon—”

“Thatwon’tbe—!” She cleared her throat, her smile tight, as if that could conceal her prior panic. “That… won’t be… necessary, Dr. Lance.” Principal Ishiyama gestured towards the door. “Besides. We’ll need the time to— fix up your office!”

Dinah smiled and nodded, but she noted to herself as she walked out of the reception how Ishiyama rushed to her secretary to begin whispering furiously.

Dinah saw how she was scared.

Dinah paused on the front steps, digging her phone out of her slacks’ pocket. She scrolled through her contacts for a moment before finally hitting call. She pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she started digging through her purse for her keys. As soon as it picked up, she announced, “Hey, babe! I got the job! I’m on the front steps of my new workplace!” She sing-songed. Oliver took the hint. “Oh? What the hell happened in forty minutes that has you calling me before you’re even in the car? Actually… wouldn’t it be twenty? Fifteen? Commute’s… what, twenty-five minutes? Still can’t believe Bat’s is putting you up in this shack—”

Dinah slipped into the drivers seat, shut and locked the car and switched her phone to the other ear. “Ishiyama was scared of me.”

“…What?” Oliver laughed a bit. “Darling, don’t get me wrong, you’re terrifying, and I love every inch of you for it, but… those are Canary vibes you’re talking about….”

Dinah turned the ignition, foot pressed hard on the breaks. “Then explain to me why I’m starting next Friday even though I told her that I was ready to start Monday— or why she jumped out of her skin when I tried to shake her hand? How about how she caved the moment I confirmed I was going for the counselor position and gave it to me without further questioning?”

Oliver got a bit more serious. “And you’re sure you were reigning in the Resting Bitch Face?”

Dinah rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m very sure that I was masking my ass off— and you know how good I am at that!”

“I know, hun,” Oliver soothes (it works, much to Dinah’s chargin and battered ego). “It’s worked on Superman and Batman. You caught your own Autism. Your mask is great, babe. Still prefer your murder vibes, though.”

Dinah grinned, her heart feeling achy and cheeks warm. “Well, yeah, that’s why I let you be my boyfriend.”

“And I thank God everyday you knocked some sense into my dumb ass— how about you go get us some safe foods and I’ll pull out the case packs again— we’ll try and figure out what’s going on, alright?”

Dinah smiled softly, her grip on the steering wheel softening, too. “Yeah, alright— when’s Roy gonna get here?” Dinah checked over her shoulder as she threw on her blinker. She turned back. “He should be up to date on anything we find.”

“He’s getting in later tonight,” Oliver told her, “and he’ll have already of eaten, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

Dinah smiled. “You’re so awesome.”

“I’ll try not to get a big head, but given how often you give out praise, that’s gonna be hard….”

Dinah laughed at the overly dramatic woe. She loved that about him— how he made her laugh like she was six again. “Okay, okay— I need to go, I’m driving— text me anything you want. Ask Roy, too.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll get started on the files, too, alright? Because that wasn’t ego stroking; she shouldn’t have been scared unless she knew who you were and she did something horrible.”

Dinah smiled like she was chocolate under a heat lamp. “Okay.” God, she hopes he can’t hear her freaking heart eyes.

“Okay,” He laughs. “I’m gonna go. I still have a sofa to get through this door.”

She laughs as she takes her turn. “Alright— be safe.”

“You, too. Love you.”

“Not quite there yet,” She tells him, still melting, “but I think I’m getting there.”

“Take all the time in the universe. Bye.”

“Bye.” God, that man makes her soft. Dinah screams a little in the back of her throat, wanting to thrash a bit (but that’s dangerous, so she’ll settle on the screaming).

(She’s going to need to send Batman a gift basket for this— a way for her to bond with her boyfriend’s son, make him feel validated, and let her manage some distance from her relationship to try and figure her head out? He’s getting a basket like none other. She’s gonna dig up Grandma’s cookie-brownie recipe and make him a butt-ton. And then she’s going to send the recipe to Agent A. …and so maybe she’s going to slip in a book on autism (because there’s no way he’s neurotypical) in there, too, but who’s gonna know, huh?)

Dinah floated through parking, and starting her walk to the store, but the floating quickly shifted into a mask as phones started going off in waves— all of them with the same ringtone, which would make others (strangers, from what she could tell) lean over to look at their neighbor’s phones once they realized it wasn’t theirs.

…And slowly, one by one, they began to turn to her. Dinah saw a lot of things on their faces. She faked a happy little twirl to get a look behind her, too.

Fear. Trepidation. Horror.

The most common one was what most would call a “threat,” but Dinah had always been one for specific language, and these looks weren’t threats.

They were promises.

They were swears upon their loved ones’ graves and everything they held dear.

They were telling her a very simple story with a very stony set of the face: “fuck this up, and you won’t live to fuck it up again. We won’t let you.”

Most importantly, it gave up that tiny little detail that made the puzzle fit. With a slightly more real (if more feral) grin, Dinah did a happy little job as she finally stepped into the store. It was such a simple little word, especially with a three letter modifier tacked in front, but it told her so, so much. It said, “We won’t let you….”

“Not again.”

#danny phantom #dp x dc #oliver queen #dinah lance #black canary #batman

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fayes-fics · 1 year

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Portrait: III

Masterpost

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: An evening session causes some leaps forward.

Warnings (for this chapter): nudity, flirtation, discussion of sex.

Word Count: 2.4k

Authors Note: Things are hotting up now ;)

III

Benedict is busy with family matters for a few days, so it is almost a week before you see him again. Unable to do the usual mid-morning time you had previously agreed, he sent word via messenger that he could do that evening only. Usually, on Monday evenings, your parents are home, but conveniently today, they are both out - your father on business, your mother on her social merry-go-round. So it is just you and a few staff members when Benedict arrives after dinner.

“I wasn't sure that evenings would work, Mr Bridgerton,” you comment as he sets up his supplies, lacking a valet today. “I thought perhaps the light would not be sufficient,” you gesture to the various sconces and candelabras flickering gently.

The room has some light, but it is very different from the sunlight he has been painting you in until now.

“It is perhaps less than ideal, but I will do my best. I preferred not to wait any longer to see you. To continue the painting, that is,” he rushes out. “I hope you do not mind my company so late in the day.”

“Nothing gives me greater pleasure than your company.” Your answer is honest and forthright, the late hour making you say things you otherwise never might. Perhaps the couple of glasses of wine you had with dinner are also making their presence known.

His eyes flash in a way that makes you unable to look away. Like that first time your eyes met across the gallery, your gaze on each other is almost magnetic.

“Tell me something about yourself, Mr Bridgerton,” you implore softly as he begins to work. “I find our sessions can be entirely too quiet on occasion.”

He huffs, bemused. “I find chatter when I am attempting to paint somewhat distracting, miss y/l/n,” he supplies, “hence I am perhaps a little taciturn, but if it pleases you…. I am from a large family….”

“I know the Bridgerton family,” you interrupt, “everyone does. Yours is among the most prestigious families of the Ton, after all. I am interested in you. What makes you, you? Not what makes you a Bridgerton.”

He seems lost for words, and the intensity of his gaze seems even heavier.

“No one has ever really asked me that before…” his voice taking on an unusual tone, just like it did yesterday when you waxed lyrical about his art. “Or at least none outside of my friends. To the members of the Ton, I am usually seen as a number in the family. The second. The spare.”

“I am certain you are so much more than that,” you respond spiritedly. “I have only spent a couple of hours with you, and that is entirely lacking as a descriptor of the man I see before me,” the wine is definitely loosening your tongue. “I would like to be considered a friend if it means you will share more about who you are with me?”

“I write poetry,” he suddenly blurts out, looking temporarily surprised at his admission, but pushes on. “I collect rocks; I am a good shot; I enjoy Pall Mall. I would like to be an artist.”

“You are an artist,” you interject, “if not, I wonder what on earth you have been standing there doing during our sessions to date.”

He laughs at your joke, adorable little lines crinkling the corners of his eyes, and again you feel filled with light. “I dabble, but I fear my work will never be taken seriously.”

“You just need more of a portfolio to showcase your wonderful talent,” you argue back. “And perhaps a few portraits to balance out the landscapes,” you tease gently.

There are a few moments of silence and shared smiles, but your glances are more heated, lingering, and unapologetic in ways they have not been before. Something in the air tonight speaks of inevitability—a shift in dynamic. The lateness of the hour lends something decadent to your session. Tonight, you don't look away as he paints; you keep your eyes on him.

“When I told you I had never painted a woman’s portrait before, I wasn't being entirely truthful,” he confesses from behind the easel, bending so his face is out of sight.

“Tell me more, Mr Bridgerton,” you volley back, the gentle teasing a growing pattern with each minute you spend in each other's presence.

“That is to say, I have painted a female. But she was by no means a lady,” his voice is laden with something dark, and your heart speeds up.

“What does that mean?” your voice curious.

“It means she was a lady of pleasure. In Paris. And… she did not wear clothes when I painted her.”

All you can hear is blood rushing in your ears. You have the strangest compulsion to expose your body to him.

“Is that how you would prefer to paint all your female subjects?” the bold question out before you can stop yourself.

“What do you mean?”

You know he is being intentionally obtuse, but his eyes are visible again now over the top of the easel, and you are struck by his expression. He looks hungry, but not for food or drink—you want to bathe in it.

“Would you prefer all your female subjects be without clothes?” you meet his burning gaze, your lips tingling.

“Only if that is what they wish too,” he seems to purr.

Your heart is pounding in your ears as you stand up and walk over to the door, legs feeling almost stiff, flicking the lock and removing its key. You know his eyes follow you as you cross the room again, and he looks stunned as you walk up to him and hand the key to him. You watch him place it on his easel, and then you turn your back, presenting your dress buttons to him.

“I wish it,” you murmur.

He makes a noise that sounds like a swallowed growl. Your whole being responds. You want him to strip you nude.

“Miss, you are promised to another,” he wavers.

“One that I do not wish to marry,” you appeal over your shoulder, “please, I wish for this. So very much,” your last words are a pleading whisper as you turn back.

Victory crests in your blood as you feel a warm gust of air stir your hair, and then warm fingers land between your shoulder blades, sliding over each button, undoing them achingly slowly. He doesn't push you further; he just touches your back gently to signify the buttons are all undone.

You walk back to the chaise and stand facing him as you push your dress down over your arms, talking the chemise with it. Heart pounding in every cell, blood running hot, your skin alive. Your dress hits the rug, and his inhale is sharp and musical.

The heat from the fire licks your bare skin as you stand there in just stays that hold your breasts up and out. You do not wear stockings or underwear; you thought it would be an illicit thrill for yourself to forego them in his presence. Something you thought he would never know.

You bite your lip and stare at him as you pluck the criss-cross pattern of laces across the front of your stays; glad you chose one you could undo yourself today. Each movement makes your breast bounce slightly, and you see his eyes covetously watching them. When his tongue peaks out of his mouth and licks his bottom lip, you feel something happening between your legs, some wetness leaking there that you know he alone is responsible for.

As the laces give way, you pull the fabric to each side, exposing your chest, and there is a noise from the back of his throat that sounds so delicious you almost run to him and throw yourself into his arms. Instead, you let the material fall away on top of your dress. So now you stand before him utterly naked. Feeling vulnerable but so powerful all at once. His face is a maelstrom, desire writ large in his dilated eyes, a bloom of pink dusting high on his sharp cheekbones.

“Miss….” he begins, and it sounds like a harbinger.

“Sir…” you counter, and his large hand flexes visibly.

The silence in the room is almost deafening.

“Paint me,” you offer over an exhale. “Paint me like your Parisian lady.”

He swallows audibly and reaches for a sketchpad tucked inside his portfolio.

“Lay down,” his request is pitched low, and your knees go so weak that obeying seems the only path available.

You recline on the chaise, and although your heart pounds, you force yourself to look at him, awaiting further instruction. Your whole body feels flushed.

“Put your left hand behind your head,” he instructs, and you can do nothing but follow the command. “Beautiful,” escapes his luscious lips that you cannot look away from.

You yearn for him to cross the room, close the distance between you, touch your body, kiss your mouth. But he does not. He grabs a wingback chair, drags it next to his easel, and places his left foot on his right knee, balancing the pad on his bent leg, something in his stance so utterly masculine. He glances at you and then runs his charcoal in sweeping lines over the paper.

“This portrait must not be hung anywhere,” you insist.

“It will be for our eyes only,” he assures. “I will happily let you keep it.”

“What if I want you to have it?” you posit and hear the charcoal slip on the page and a light curse under his breath.

“Then I would be quite the luckiest man,” he replies, his eyes fiery as he looks at your face.

“And what if I did not want to be alone in this picture?” throwing all caution to the wind, leaving no room for doubt.

“Who else do you wish to join you?” his voice cracking roughly, his gaze raking slowly down your body, so heavy you feel it.

“The door is locked, sir.”

“Don't call me that,” he hisses, more than a touch harried.

“Mr Bridgerton,” you amend, treating each syllable as a tasty morsel, letting your free hand stroke slowly down your sternum as you say it.

“Stop it,” he warns, sounding desperate.

“I don't want to,” you hiss vehemently.

“Have you laid with a man?” his voice is tremulant.

“Never,” you reply softly.

“But you know something of it?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“And you wish to know before marriage?”

“Only from you,” you confess.

“Fuck,” he mutters heavily, and it's the most arousing thing you have ever heard. “We… we should not…” he stumbles, the sketchpad very much left to languish unused in his lap now.

“You do not strike me as one who plays by societal rules,” you appeal.

“Indeed I am not, but...” he trails off and swallows heavily yet again.

He watches intensely as you let the hand on your sternum slip down the centre line of your body. You may not know everything about what happens between a man and a woman, but you instinctively need your fingers to quell the burning sensation at the apex of your thighs.

“You are engaged to another,” he bites out as if he is reluctant to say it himself as he watches your hand trail over your belly.

“Do not remind me of my future,” you lament. “Let me live in this moment, for now. And if you will not touch me, teach me how to pleasure myself properly. So I may be able to keep myself at least partially satisfied in my marriage.”

The moan he makes is so carnal and wanton that your whole body shivers, your nipples pebbling, none of which escapes his notice. He bites off a curse again and closes his eyes, his hand trembling. Suddenly he tosses the sketchpad aside and rubs his hands down his face. When his eyes reopen, they blaze at you.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, y/n. But I cannot do this here, not under your parents' roof,” he answers through gritted teeth.

You want to be impressed with his gentlemanly behaviour, but right now, you pine for him to be the opposite. To give in to the temptation that you can see him fighting.

“But….” and your breath catches with that one syllable. “...I think you should know; I will be insisting the last two portrait sessions be at my private studio—I have a scene curtain there that will make the perfect background to complete your portrait.”

You understand precisely what he is saying and not saying. The euphoric tide that races around your limbic system is better than any rush you have ever experienced.

“And I assume you cannot merely paint the background without me? My presence is very much required, is it not?” your ask is coquettish, your hand spidering circles around your belly button.

“That is indeed most correct,” a lopsided grin that causes butterflies spreading slowly and dangerously over his features.

“Then you may go,” you conclude quietly as the clock strikes 8 pm, standing and picking your clothing from the floor. “And I will see you there tomorrow morning.”

As you slip back into your chemise, he moves closer, so close you can smell his citrus and woody cologne, and he hands you a scrap of paper, your fingers brushing with a jolt of fire as he does so. It contains an address. “Ensure your parents and your fiance know this must be alone.” he intones. “After all, my very thorough artistic process demands it, does it not?”

You are almost quaking as he moves away and picks up his supplies. You attempt to re-dress, but your fingers seemingly cannot fasten the buttons at the back, so you leave it hanging loose, praying that you don't run into any staff in such an unkempt state.

“And miss y/l/n….” he calls as he unlocks the door and leaves the key in the slot.

“Yes?”

“...this evening, the sunset sky was scarlet red, so I expect it shall be a hot day tomorrow. I would suggest you wear your portrait dress and absolutely nothing more. I would not want you uncomfortable after all,” he rejoinders silkily with a wink as he slips through the doorway.

You know that statement had absolutely nothing to do with the weather or his concern for your comfort, and you have to grab the back of the chaise to keep yourself upright.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton smut #bridgerton x female reader #portrait fic

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triplesilverstar · 3 months

Text

A call from Afar

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Knives X F!Reader

CW: Dom/Sub undertones, Video sex, toys, hand job, stripping, orgasm, penetrative sex, masturbation

Word count: Roughly 3.1K

A/N: Chapter twenty one, where you and Nai have a long distance Valentine’s day celebration while he’s off on a trip. Good thing the man likes getting what he wants.

The second of my four fics for Valentine’s day. No one question my sanity.

“I hate you!” The sound of rain pounding against the pavement is loud enough that you flinch at the onslaught to your ears.

“You don’t!” Watching as the blond moves closer and closer as if planning to smash their mouths together just in time for popcorn to hit your TV screen as he dips the main character in the movie.

“Boo!” Yelling your frustration at the cheesy love story you’re watching before taking another handful of popcorn to munch on. A glance at the clock and you start thinking about soon heading to bed to get this shitty Valentine's Day over, it’s not like you’re expecting anyone to show up and make it better.

Nai is off on a last minute business trip. “Apologies Pet.” Pressing his lips to your forehead before reaching down beside you in his apartment for his bag. “Your presence shall be sorely missed, however, this requires my immediate attention in person.” Raising his eyebrow as he saw you lift your own bag over your shoulder. “You do know you are welcome to stay in my apartment in my absence?”

“It’s fine Nai. I’ll head back to my apartment until you’re home again.” That had prompted another kiss between the two of you before he whisked himself off to his staff car. That had been Monday.

It was Thursday and you were hating every minute of watching the clock tick by. Calla had no work for you tonight at Flux which was normal for a Thursday night, so you couldn’t even work at the bar. At least at the bar, you might have been able to get a few juicy details about politicians sleeping with anyone but their spouses to add to the ever growing list Calla kept. Valentine's Day was always a great day to see how many of the city's powerful had mistresses that they thought were well tucked away.

But Nope.

None of that for you this year. Dropping your head against the back of your couch as you look at the ceiling. Instead, you’d had to deal with the interactions of happy couples being sappy all day. You’d have much preferred to be on your back or your front with Nai doing anything to you instead of watching cheesy romance movies.

Another sigh as you look at the clock. It’s way too late for Nai to contact you, a brief text from him earlier in the day telling you he should be home by Saturday based on how his business proceedings were going and asking if you had any plans without him. You’d been honest and told him you didn’t and now you were regretting it.

You don’t care what’s on your TV, digging the remote from the couch cushions and pressing the power button. Rolling your shoulders and back as you stand before starting to clean up the popcorn you had thrown at the screen several times. Tossing the yellow bits back in the half-empty bag you had no intention of finishing. Only to hear a knock at your door. “What the hell?” As confused as you are, a flood of hope surges through you. Maybe the text from earlier had been a deception from Nai. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done something similar, almost tripping on your way to the door and pulling on the knob hard enough to hear the hinges creak.

To be met with disappointment.

It’s not Nai.

It’s a delivery man, with a dozen red roses. “I believe these are for you Miss” stating your last name as you nod. He wouldn’t have gotten past the doorman if he hadn’t of been cleared first, so you have no issue taking it from the young man. Surprised when he also handed you a decent sized white box with a blue ribbon wrapped around it, asking you to sign the digital pad. The ribbon tells you enough to know you don’t need to open the card, if there even is one, to know who the roses and box are from.

Thanking the man for his service before closing the door and taking a deep inhale of the roses enjoying the smell as it flooded your senses. Unwrapping the paper around the base to find a beautiful vase in shades of pink and red under it, marveling at what you think is blown glass and wondering how much Nai might have spent on this little surprise. Only for your phone to ring and you have a sneaking suspicion about who it could be.

Seeing the image of Nai sitting in a dark booth at Flux, covered in shadows flashing on your screen. It’s a terrible photo of him but you wanted something to flash up when he called you, your heart doing that silly little dance inside of your chest. “Hello Nai. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Perhaps.” You can hear the rasp in his voice and it makes your head swim for an entirely different reason, wondering if he set an alarm to wake up in time for a delivery to be made. “I believe there should be a certain box in your apartment, Pet.”

“There is, how did you know?” Letting a teasing lilt float through your voice as you speak to him smiling and holding the box. “Can I open it?”

“Go to the bedroom first.” You can picture him leaning against a headboard in some sort of VIP suite as he speaks to you, looking like sin ready to pounce.

“Alright.” Smiling to yourself like an idiot well aware he can’t see you, which is a good thing because if you looked like that while he was there he’d use it as an excuse to punish you somehow. “I’m in the bedroom.”

“You may open the box.” Placing it on the bed and removing the ribbon, blinking rapidly at what’s in the center of the box.

“Nai. Did you send me a dildo?” You had no idea what to expect but it wasn’t that sitting in a pile of satin.

“Not just any dildo, Pet.” You can hear him licking his lips, and it makes your cunt throb suddenly. “I need you to follow my directions, open your phone, and type in the following.” Listening to him you install a new application and create a user ID telling Nai what it is and letting him walk you through connecting the toy to your phone before a ping and notification comes up.

“User Millon$Sp00n$ has requested access” you read to him with a smirk on your face. “I wonder who that could be.”

“Hit allow Pet.” You do so and hear the toy make a short buzz sound. “Now.” His voice takes on that commanding tone you’re so used to in your bedroom. “I expect you to strip and switch to your video chat. You’re going to put on a little show for me.”

After pressing allow you smile. “Alright switching to the video one, see you soon.” Trying to tease him just a little before hitting the red button to end the call and switch over, barely having time to hit the button as it starts to ring from your single contact. Seeing his handsome visage appear on your tiny screen, the light makes him seem even more pale as if his skin is like porcelain. Wrapped in one of his oversized blue hoodies that he likes to lounge in, his hair has a slight sheen to it and you assume he must have had a shower. “Well hello there handsome.” Raising a brow as you watch him shift before sitting up a little more. “Was I supposed to strip before the call or right now?”

“I did say I wanted a show.” Saying it as if he’d bored you do your best to keep yourself from smiling. “Put me where I can see you take your clothes off Pet.” A quick look around and you lean your phone against the lamp next to your bed.

“Can you see me?”

“Indeed. Though the image would be more appealing if there were less layers of clothing on.” Doing your best to try and ignore the husk in his voice as start to peel your clothes off, hooking your fingers under the hem of your shirt and lifting it. Making a show of slowly lifting it off your chest, glad you’d removed your bra based on the inhale you can hear from your phone even with the distance. “Naughty thing.” With your shirt off you trail your fingers along your stomach drawing a random pattern before touching your chest. Hearing an appreciative hum now, licking your lips and fluttering your eyelids.

“I wish it was your hands on me instead, touching my skin the way you’d like and reminding me that I’m all for you.” Letting your voice grow breathy as you knead your skin, gently tossing your head back so your hair falls across your shoulders.

“You wouldn’t be talking this much if I was there.” He’s not wrong, but that’s because your mouth would be being dominated by him and you doubt you’d be standing in your bedroom. Pressed against the wall. Maybe. “Did you remove your panties as well? I think you should show me.”

Twirling in place you shake your butt at him as you slide your pants down your legs, even if you are still wearing your panties you know he still enjoys the way they cling to the shake of your rear. Folding forward while grabbing both cheeks with a sultry smile as you look back at the camera, letting out a small moan as you grip the thin fabric and drag it down along your curves as if you’re getting off to the idea of him watching you. “Your skin would look far more lovely with my hands reminding you of your place.” A hint of a growl to his voice as you let the damp fabric drop to the ground, because as much as you might think you’re just acting you are getting off to the idea of him watching this little show.

Sauntering up to the camera until what you hope is a nice view of your crotch is presented to him, sliding your fingers down to your sex and spreading yourself apart for him to see. “What should I do now Nai? Am I wet enough?” Moaning softly as you let one of your fingers play with your slit, spreading the moisture you find there along the folds of your pussy.

“No.” A catch in his voice that you weren’t expecting. “Finger yourself Pet.” Licking your lips as you slide that lone digit in your walls and sigh starting to pump it. “Slowly.” This close to the phone you can hear the slide of fabric from his side of your connection and what you think might be skin sliding along skin. Just how close does he have the phone to him if you can hear that?

You do as he asks, gently twisting your finger along your walls while using your other hand to spread yourself more apart so he can see just what you’re doing to yourself. It shouldn’t make you feel this hot but it is, a coil inside of your stomach starting to tighten as you finger yourself for his enjoyment. “Better?”

“Perfect.” Groaning as he answers. “Though, not as perfect if I was there.” Letting out a soft whine yourself as you curl your finger just right to hit a bundle of nerves that you know will make you release a flood of liquid. The audible swallow from the other side is a good indication that Nai is enjoying what you’re doing, maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll have a nice treat for you when he gets back from his trip. “Stop Pet.”

You do. But you’re confused by the sudden bite in his voice. “Nai?”

“Take your finger out of your body and look at your phone Pet.” A wet slurp leaves your pulsing sex as you remove your finger with a whine of distress instead of pleasure. Lifting your phone and you can’t hold back the gasp at the sight you see.

Nai has moved his phone, and angled it down so you have a lovely view of his solid abs well defined from all the working out he ensures is a part of his day. What has you drooling as you stare at your phone however is what’s centered perfectly in the frame. His hand, wrapped around his glistening cock. Sliding his hand painfully slow and you whine once more at the massive glob of pre cum pools at the tip of his dick before sliding down. Swallowing as his voice has taken on a seductive whisper. “I’d much prefer to have you wrapped around me Pet, however for tonight my hand shall have to serve as a poor substitute for your warm walls.” That mass of liquid breaks from the sphere that it forms to run down his length and across his fingers.

“Fuck, Nai. I’ve never wanted to lick something so badly.” Your body doesn’t care about putting on a show anymore, all you want is to lap at his cock as if it’s something to worship. To wrap your lips around him and take as much of his length down your throat as you can and to gag on him with your nose buried in the fine hairs you know he keeps trimmed at his base.

“You’ll have your chance soon Pet. Now that you’ve seen what you’ve done to me as I am well aware of my effect on you, I want you to place that lovely present between your thighs and ride it for me.” Taking your phone with you as you carefully clamor onto your bed, using the box to keep it in place as you position yourself so he can see your dripping cunt and flushed face.

Tapping the head of the toy against your clit and letting out a whimper at the shock it sends through you from that brief touch. It seems phone and video sex can get you riled up in no time. “Can I put it in Nai?” You aren’t stupid, even at a distance he said he wanted a show and you know better than to just start to ride the toy that you can’t wait to feel inside of your pulsing walls.

“Yes, Pet. Show me just how much you wish it was my cock between your legs instead of that inferior version.” Draping your fingers over the base of the toy you start to slide part of it between your moist folds, smearing your arousal along the smooth lines, seeing the shine reflected on the phone that your camera is picking up on and Nai lets out another noise of appreciation. “Such a wet little hole. Put it inside of you.” A command you’re happy to follow as you lift your hips a small amount to ensure you can ride the toy properly once you get started, pushing the head into your sex and letting out another low whine. Your walls want a dick that is far more familiar and stretches you out more, but the long groan from your phone tells you that sight of your spamming walls is enough for Nai to enjoy the sight.

“Nai, my pussy knows it isn’t you. I need more Baby.” Rubbing circles into the skin of your stomach before you take more of the toy, curious if he’ll let you touch more of yourself or force you to just use the toy while he’s on the line.

“Play with your breasts.” Licking his lips you do just that, moaning as your hand kneads at your hard nipples and feeling your cunt grip the tip of the toy harder. A tiny movement Nai doesn’t miss. “Start to fuck the toy.” Lowering your body and letting out a series of moans and sighs as the fake cock splits you open, while it is smooth you can still feel the firmness of the toy under that softness and it feels good against your heated insides. “Good girl.” That shouldn’t have made you throb the way it did, but damn if you didn’t enjoy it. As your core adjusts to the length that isn’t Nai you start to move your hips faster, letting your eyes flick to the screen to see more of his hand in the frame blocking his face.

You howl. Not in pain but from the sudden vibrations rocking your insides from the toy, you’d forgotten he had control of it and his hand was moving faster now. Moving in time to the moans and if you hadn’t of been so fucked out of it you might realize it was in time to your hips as you rode the toy between your thighs. Moving faster and harder as the sensation intensivives and you’re hovering on the edge ready to burst. “That’s it, almost there.” Another increase and the vibrations are shaking your insides hard enough that the nerves of your G spot can’t handle anymore. Dropping your hips to the bed as your orgasm rolls through you with a gentle scream of his name, drowning out his own hiss of your name through his clenched teeth as he cums all over his hand.

Flopping to your side as the toy still buzzing inside of you drags out your orgasm and your sex throbs still in view of the camera, a whining mess as you don’t have the mental process to reach down and remove the thing.

Thankfully it doesn’t take Nai long to return to his senses, killing the toy from his end and calling your name softly. Mumbling as you fumble blindly for the phone, blinking slowly as you watch a soft expression overcome your lover's face. “Thank you for the toy Nai.” It sounds stupid but from the gentle smile on his face, you get the feeling you’re far more out of it than you think.

“You’re welcome. Now recover pet, then have a shower.” Smirking at you through the video call you know you really are out of it if his first command wasn’t for you to start to clean yourself up.

“Good night Nai.” Feeling more of your mental processes return you try for a more sincere smile for the blond at the other end. “Thank you for making this day one I’ll never forget my Valentine.”

A chuckle and Nai is shaking his head as if amused by your words, you don’t bother to ponder it since half the time you don’t understand him anyway. “Good night my sweet. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Nai has to laugh as he presses a button on his phone to stop recording, tapping the device to his lips afterwards. He hadn’t planned on doing any of this when he left, however two days without the smell of your skin or the sound of your noises and he was surprised how much he craved it. “At least now, I’ll always have some of your noises and that lovely view when we’re apart.” Locking the video behind several passkeys and layers of security.

After all. You were for his eyes only.

Back to master list for the series

#millions knives smut #millions knives x reader #millions knives x reader smut #modern au #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #trigun smut #twink writes #knives smut #millions knives #knives x reader

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jeonqkooks · 2 years

Text

dirty laundry | pjm

You knew Jimin was working two part time jobs to help pay for his studies; you just never imagined this would be one of his side hustles.

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre: roommate au, pornstar au, light fluff, smut (basically pwp)

word count: 5.2k (smh.. she was supposed to be a drabble)

warnings: dom!jimin, protected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, name calling (slut), hair pulling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, breast play, doggy style, one spank, female masturbation, aftercare, jimin says “baby” a lot, mention of inflation n the housing market 😦

note: don’t look at me please 🥲 i’ve been wanting to write this since the grammys bc jimin has been LINGERING in my mind like a demon

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

Living with a roommate, you try to keep from pleasuring yourself as much as you can, especially since the walls aren’t exactly soundproof. But that doesn’t mean you never do it; whenever you’re too sexually frustrated every once in a while, you wait for Jimin—your rent-sharer turned friend—to be out of the apartment before you pounce at the opportunity.

Tonight is just one of those nights.

You lie on your bed, naked from the waist down with your laptop open and your fingers ready to go. You’re not exactly an adult film connoisseur, and every time you schedule a session to rub one out, it takes you at least fifteen minutes to scroll through the pornsite until you settle on one that you think you can get into.

This time is no different.

You don’t have preferences when it comes to porn—it’s just a means to get you there after all—so you aren’t picky with the type of things that you opt for. It can be kinky or it can be vanilla, nonetheless, you need to vibe with the porn, if you can even say that. Doesn’t matter if it’s low-budget or made with the highest of quality, as long as you can get on the same wavelength with it, you’re good to go. Your friends say it’s weird that you do this with porn of all things, but whatever, that’s just how you do your business.

As you navigate the familiar website, you click on a title that seems to be just what you need for tonight. You’re too hot and bothered to watch the foreplay; instead, you skip right to the good stuff.

You already have two fingers stuffed in your throbbing pussy, having been prepared to relieve your frustration for hours now. It’s been an extremely tiresome Monday, you think that justifies your need for some self love.

Normally, if you have more time and patience, you would enjoy the fondling before the deed. As the actors gear up before the real action, you would join in with them in a way, getting your body going so that when the orgasm hits, it’ll be much more pleasurable.

Right now though? Your patience tank is running dry, and you don’t even care to listen to the sounds emitting from your laptop as the couple on screen fuck each other’s brains out. The visual of a hard cock pounding into an eager hole is enough for tonight. You focus on the wet smacks of your fingers sliding in and out of your dripping cunt instead, and how desperately you need to get there.

It’s embarrassing how fast you came from just watching these faceless people. Barely fifteen minutes into the video and you’re already creaming all over your hand.

When you calm down from your high, having decided that you’re satiated for now, the room is devoid of all squelches that your pussy was producing. It’s silent except for your now-even breathing and the skin slapping coming from the laptop.

A voice wafts through the air that makes you do a double take, legs still open and all. You frown, recognizing your roommate’s voice. Has he brought someone home?

“Yeah, baby?” the voice says again. You look to your left, to the source of the sounds and you realize they’ve been coming from your speakers. The man on the screen rasps out over the noises of skin slapping. “You like that?”

You gasp.

It can’t be him. It can not.

You completely forget about the mess on the sheets, under your ass where your juices gushed out of you just minutes prior, and you pause the video with shaky fingers. Scrolling down to where the details and description should be, you click on the actor’s page.

There’s no profile picture, but the letters JM staring back at you in blue light are enough to make you recoil in shame and embarrassment.

“Oh my fucking God.”

You knew Jimin was working two part time jobs to help pay for his studies; you just never imagined this would be one of his side hustles.

Sure, he’s one of the best looking people you’ve met, but you’ve never thought about him romantically, or sexually, or any way other than platonically. He’s a good friend and sometimes an even better roommate. He always cleans up after himself and keeps the common areas tidy, which isn’t something people can say about most guys. Your personalities don’t clash and living with him has been a very pleasant experience overall.

You might’ve just ruined your relationship with the most pleasant person you’ve ever lived with just for an orgasm. You don’t even want to think about possibly having to look for a new apartment right now.

In retrospect, some things do seem to line up. The first video that JM was featured in was released four months ago, around the time that Jimin started to spend most of his weekends out, leaving the apartment before you even woke up and not returning until at least 9 or 10 at night. Saturdays and Sundays have been like that ever since and whenever you ask him where he’s going, he would only say “Just running errands,” with a polite smile on his face.

There are seven videos on his profile so far, and despite the very first one only being a few months old, he’s already in the top 30 most searched performers on the site. Kudos to him. It’s pretty impressive, but not like you know what the average pornstar’s statistics are.

When the sound of keys jingling informs you of his arrival, you immediately close the tabs and slam your laptop close. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head vigorously as if that will magically erase the past hour from existence.

Sleep does not come to you easily.

When you wake up the next morning, you pray that last night was all just a dream. A weird, twisted dream that your horny brain concocted in the heat of the moment.

Unluckily for you, the minute you open your laptop and see his profile glaring at you, you know that it was very much real and you had very much masturbated to your roommate.

When you finally and dreadfully come face to face with Jimin, you’re in the kitchen with a mug in your hands, staring at the wall while sipping coffee dazedly.

“Good morning!” he greets you as he emerges from his room, chirpy as ever. Usually, you would try to match his attitude with a bright smile of your own but for obvious reasons, today his presence alone has you choking on your beverage.

As he approaches the kitchen to get a glass of water, your body stiffens. He gives you a sympathetic smile while he watches you try to calm yourself down from the coughing fit.

“Morning…” you manage to croak out.

“What are you up to tonight? If you’re not doing anything, do you want to try out that new sushi place with me?” Jimin asks, casually like he always is around you but since last night, you don’t think you can look at him the same way ever again.

(Not only did you see him in all his naked glory and not only did you see him fuck someone into oblivion, but you got yourself off to that imagery.

The visual of his dick is burnt into your brain, and it’s taking you everything not to let your eyes fall down to his crotch.)

“Ah, well…” you start, trying to rack your brain for some lame excuse that he won’t fully buy anyway. “I think I have to, uh… take my boss’ dog to the vet! Rain check?”

Really? You have to “take your boss’ dog to the vet”? That settles it. You’re the worst liar on planet Earth.

If he notices the awkward aura you’re emitting, he doesn’t point it out. The way his face drops in disappointment makes guilt bloom within you, but you think—no, scratch that, you know—that it will take time and space for you to regain even a semblance of normalcy between you and Jimin. (You’ve fingered yourself to his pornos, for Christ’s sake!)

But, ever the sweetheart, he doesn’t question what is obviously a lie. He’s quick to pick himself up in front of you. “Bummer,” he says with a smile, “rain check then.”

You’ve successfully managed to avoid Jimin for nearly a week after The Great Revelation. “Successfully” being locking yourself in your room and not daring to venture out into the common living areas unless you absolutely have to.

It comes as a shock to no one to know that you’ve been bonkers horny since you found out that the person you’re living with is an actual pornstar. People need to own a particular… set of skills to be casted in, erhm, adult movies, right? It haunts you to think about Jimin and his… sexual prowess.

You’ve seen him in action, witnessed what those hips can do, heard what his voice sounds like when he’s balls deep in someone. It’s insane that you stumbled across his alternate persona when you did; it’s like a whole new world opened up.

A whole new world of being batshit horny for your roommate, that is.

You’ve had to physically suppress the thoughts in your head every time you hear him move around the apartment, knowing that if you were to sleep with him, he would absolutely rock your fucking world. The ache between your legs doesn’t cease at all; it just continues to increase in strength until you feel like you’re about to burst like a dam.

You’ve tried to rub one out to relieve yourself of some of that pressure, but nothing seems to work. Watching porn is completely useless because none of them are the man that’s been plaguing your mind.

It’s times like these that you wish you had a vibrator. That would probably make things a lot easier than just your fingers.

You’re thankful that today’s a Saturday, one of the only days of the week where you mostly get the apartment to yourself since Jimin is preoccupied doing unspeakable things to strangers.

With your libido going rampant and making you feel like a dog in heat, you do the only thing you can think of to help yourself out.

It’s a little weird watching his videos, knowing that right now he’s out there producing more of them and knowing that you share a tote bag for groceries with him.

But when the video starts to play, all of your thoughts fade into the background. Moisture gathers between your bare legs at the sight of Jimin entering the frame.

There isn’t really much foreplay, just some kissing that happens outside of the frame but you can hear the sounds of him kissing that lucky girl, her soft moans as he works his mouth on hers.

They sort of get right into it after that. It’s mostly low-budget productions after all; you don’t suppose the “company” can afford to rent huge sets with an array of props to come with. It’s just a room with a bed. Sometimes maybe even just a couch.

Your heart hammers with excitement as Jimin strips until he’s completely nude, and he crawls over to his co-star who already has her legs spread and ready for him. You do something similar, in that you open your legs wide so that your hand can finally get to work.

Your fingers dip between your folds to collect the wetness there. You imagine that you’re the girl he’s fucking, that your pussy is the one his cock is drilling into. The sounds he’s making stimulate your body to no end; his deep grunts and moans of pleasure sending wave after wave of arousal through your body.

The video keeps going, and you carry on with your merry business of fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate.

“Jimin…” you moan and close your eyes in pleasure, wishing it was his fingers that are sliding into your slickened cunt.��

“Yeah?”

Fuck, does he sound sexy. You could listen to his fucked out groans for days and not get tired.

Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. Why did that just sound louder than your laptop’s volume?

You pop open an eye, fingers never ceasing their scissoring movements in your pussy.

Cue the top 3 most embarrassing moments of your entire life—the subject of your fantasies, standing at your bedroom door with a smirk on his face, watching you get yourself off.

“Jimin!” you shriek, your hands immediately fly out to slam your laptop shut and pull the sheets up to cover your naked bottom at the speed of light. You think you could rival even Barry Allen. “Jimin… what are you doing here?”

“I just went for a walk around the block. Came back to hear you calling for me and well, here we are.”

“Don’t you usually… run errands on the weekend?”

He narrows his eyes slightly, mischief dancing behind those dark orbs. “Not this week, no.”

You try to push down the lump in your throat to no avail. When he steps into the room and makes his way toward your bed, your eyes widen.

The mattress dips as he sits down. He moves your laptop to the bedside table, where it sits like a ton of bricks, the evidence of your thirst for the man in front of you. If he opens it right now, the video would resume playing, and the room would be filled with the recorded sounds of lustful moans again.

Jimin blinks at you naively and asks, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You found out about my little secret?”

“I… uh…”

What is there to say? Yes? The truth is not an option.

“Do you need a little help?” He slips a hand under the sheets and settles on your bare knee, making you jerk in response but you let his fingers stay there. “It didn’t look like you were… finished.”

Maybe you can simply brush it off, act as if it’s not a big deal because it really isn’t a big deal. People have needs; you’re all adults here. It’s not like he thinks you’re the Virgin Mary or anything.

Just one tiny detail though.

Jimin definitely heard what you were watching, and judging from the look on his face, he knows you were getting off to him. (As if the breathy moans of his name that slipped from your mouth weren’t obvious enough.)

“You’re not… you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Why would I be?” he asks, tilting his head as his hand creeps a little further up your thigh. “If anything, I should be flattered.”

Your breathing starts to become ragged the closer he gets to your aching heat. Surprisingly, you manage to hold eye contact with him, and you find that there’s no disgust or repulsion on his features. There’s just lust, and you suspect that it mimics your own.

“You just need to get fucked, don’t you?”

Your mouth hangs open as you gape at him. Your sweet, innocent-looking roommate who always radiates the energy of an absolute angel.

Your roommate who’s currently rubbing your dripping pussy, with a devilish look in his eyes.

When you don’t reply, Jimin presses his fingers harder against your clit, making you choke on air and press your thighs together, trapping his hand between your legs.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes…” you whisper. He smiles then, his usual smile that often brightens up your day from the outset. Your head spins with how much it contradicts what he’s doing to you under the blanket.

He hums his approval at your answer and leans forward to reward you with a kiss. His plump lips are so goddamn soft on yours, so goddamn soft.

He pulls away too quickly for your liking. “You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks softly, still rubbing you under the sheets.

“Yes…” you gasp when his fingers circle your entrance, “fuck me. Jimin, please.”

He chuckles, then bites his bottom lip as his darkened eyes take in your flustered expression.

“Need to stretch you out for me first, baby.”

He then plunges two digits into your fluttering hole, coaxing a surprised moan out of you. Your walls eagerly suck him in and if you were to peek under the sheets right now, you would see your essence coating his fingers as they thrust in and out of you.

“Baby,” he groans, taking your lips between his once more, “you’re so fucking wet.”

“Fuck Jimin… that feels s-so good…”

Though you can’t see him fingering you, you can definitely hear it even as it’s muffled by the fabric blocking your view. He’s right; you are so fucking wet.

When he curls his digits inside of you, your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder as you cry out, the pads of his fingers brushing against your G-spot with every movement. Expletives fall from your mouth as your climax strikes like a freight train, making your legs tremble and your juices gush from your cunt.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs, fucking you through your orgasm. There’s already a wet patch on the sheets underneath you where your cum is leaking out of you and trailing down your thighs. You can’t bring yourself to care about that right now, not while his hand is still stroking at your core.

You let out a muffled gasp when he suddenly leaves you empty and shoves his fingers in your mouth, letting you taste yourself as you start sucking on the digits.

“Good?” Jimin asks with a sly grin.

“Mhmm,” you moan, lapping up all of your own essence. God, what you would give to have his cock in your mouth instead of his fingers.

Pulling his hand away from your face to take off his shirt, he crawls between your legs and pushes you back on the bed to hover over you. He gingerly presses his lips against yours and wastes no time shoving his tongue into your mouth, demanding a taste. “Hmm, I don’t think that’ll be enough. I might need to get a proper taste. You gonna let me do that, baby?”

You nod eagerly and he just smiles, innocent and sweet like he hadn’t just asked to go down on you. He helps you tug off your own shirt before he starts ravishing his way down your body.

Jimin takes a tit in his mouth and sucks harshly while he squeezes your other breast in his palm. When you moan and try to roll your hips against his, he uses his free hand to hold you down on the mattress. “Patience, baby,” he says as he continues to work on your breasts, flicking his tongue over your nipple.

You weave your fingers through his hair and arch your chest further into his face, relishing in the feeling of his hot mouth on your skin.

Every time he nibbles on your pebbled buds, you find yourself clenching around nothing, and it’s driving you crazy. “Jimin…” you whine, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” he smirks, and he looks so goddamn good as he peers up at you.

“Yeah…”

He gives each of your nipples a wet kiss before he sits back to watch you, spread out on the bed in all your naked glory, ready and desperate for him. With your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you reach out to touch him, to guide him where you need him the most, but he beats you to it.

He dives right in for your cunt.

“Jimin!” you yelp, feeling him place a kiss against your pussy.

He moans in unison with you at the first lick he delivers along your folds, lapping up your juices. “Mhmm, you’re so sweet, baby.”

He has to hold your thighs apart when they instinctively close in on his head, before focusing on wrecking you with his mouth. He sucks on your clit and revels in the way you moan out loudly for him.

“A–ah, you’re so good, Jimin-ah…”

With his face between your legs, giving you an insane amount of pleasure that you’ve never received before, you think he might just be a God. You’re practically ascending by now. Your soul might as well have left this mortal plane.

A small part of you feels victorious. From the looks of his videos, he mostly engages in positions that allow him to hide his face, so you’ve never been blessed with the sight of him eating someone out.

You feel triumphant that no one else (that you know of) has the privilege of having Park Jimin do this to them.

He continues to fuck you with his tongue until you’re creaming all over his face with a scream of his name. The noises that he pulls from you… Your neighbors must think you’re getting murdered, but it’s so worth it.

Jimin doesn’t stop licking into you until you’re pushing his head away, too sensitive from his mouth but somehow still desperate for something else.

“You okay?” he asks when he sees you all fucked out, lying limbly on your back.

“Yes,” you whisper, eyeing the bulge in his pants. You’re getting excited again just by looking at the outline of his dick alone.

“You’re my little cockslut, aren’t you?” he smirks, popping open the buttons of his trousers so painfully slowly. He loves to tease, you’ve gathered as much. When he slips off his pants along with his boxers, you audibly gulp.

You’re not one to say dicks are beautiful because you think they definitely are not. But Jimin… you simply can’t deny that Jimin has one of the prettiest and most mouthwatering cocks you’ve ever seen.

You lick your lips and bat your eyelashes at him, hoping that he’ll grant you the honor. “I… I want to suck you off.”

Your roommate chuckles, and wraps one of his hands around his member, squeezing at the base before he starts stroking it. “You can do that next time, baby.”

Next time? Your pussy jumps as soon as the words leave his mouth. Oh goodness, this man is going to be the death of you.

“Now get on all fours,” he orders. “You’re not too tired for that, are you, baby?”

You don’t bother with a response; you just do what he asks straight away. Jimin watches in amusement as you settle comfortably on your knees while you balance your upper body on your forearms. You push your ass back until it meets his hips, and you take the chance to grind your bare pussy against his leaking cock.

The tip pokes at your entrance, and you moan when you feel Jimin run his shaft along your slick folds, mixing your wetness with his precum.

“Fuck…” he groans and squeezes one of your ass cheeks, still rubbing himself against you. “One of these days I’m gonna take you raw. But for now…”

One of these days? God, someone stop this man. If he keeps talking like this, you might just never let him leave your bedroom.

You can’t see him, but you can feel the absence of his dick as he pulls back in search of something. There’s some rustling in the background and the tearing of tinfoil; before you know it, Jimin has his condom-clad cock positioned at your entrance.

You both groan as he finally pushes into you. When your pussy tightens instinctively at the intrusion, he stills after bottoming out to let you adjust to his size.

“You’re so fucking tight, even after I just made you cum twice, huh? Needy little thing…” he says through gritted teeth. One of his hands comes to grip your hips while the other firmly gropes your ass.

“It’s been a while…” you admit shyly, feeling your walls fluttering around him.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he chuckles and rubs your hips to help you relax. “Makes me wanna ruin this pussy even more.”

It’s unfathomable how he can switch from a sweet and caring Jimin to one that wants to split you open on his cock just like that. It’s like he’s living a double life, and it’s surprisingly turning you on.

You two stay like that for a few minutes before you begin to grind your ass against him, with him sheathed inside of you. “Jimin…” you say, “please fuck me.”

He really doesn’t need to be told twice. As he pulls back, you can feel the ridges of his glorious cock. And when he thrusts forward, you’re seeing stars with every snap of his hips.

Jimin sets a brutal pace from the get-go. Soon, the room is filled with the sinful sounds of your ass slapping his hips and the occasional bump! of your headboard against the wall. Every time his balls hit your clit from behind, you sob out as you fist the sheets.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” he grunts, fucking you so hard that your brain has completely liquified. Incoherent cries spill from your lips from the sheer intensity of his cock giving it to you like no one else has ever before.

He delivers a sharp smack to your ass, making you yelp in surprise. “Answer me, you fucking slut,” he growls, soothing the sting on your cheek before squeezing it harshly in his palm.

“You! Jimin, you’re fucking me so good…”

“That’s right,” he mumbles with a smirk, drilling his cock into you at a faster pace. The hand that was on your hips sneaks up the smooth expanse of your back to gather your hair into a ponytail. He yanks you roughly until your back is flushed against his hard and sweaty chest, your body held upright by his arm around your waist. It’s almost painful—the hold he has on your hair—but it makes your pussy even wetter.

Jimin latches his lips onto your neck, near the junction of where it meets your shoulders, and finds a sweet spot that you didn’t know was there. It sends a shiver throughout your body as you moan out loudly, clenching around his cock and making him groan against your skin.

“Ah fuck…” You’re surprised how you can find your voice in a moment like this. “Ji–Jimin, I’m close…”

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod your head distractedly in response. His fingers find your clit and he rubs wildly, suddenly, further vaporizing your mind. His ministrations make your mouth drop and your brows furrow tightly; you’re nearly crying at this point from the blinding pleasure he’s giving you.

If it isn’t for his arm around you, you probably would’ve fallen facedown into the pillows. By this point, you probably wouldn’t even mind if that happened. You’d let him fuck you however he wants to, for as long as he wants to.

“Baby,” he rasps out from behind you, “come on. Cream all over my cock. Come on…”

You can feel his length stroke your G-spot with every delicious thrust. His fingers on your clit never stop their movements, determined to bring you to that blinding pleasure that you’re so desperately seeking.

It doesn’t take long before you’re a sobbing mess, held together by Jimin as he thrusts roughly into your fluttering hole. The moment that your cunt spasms around his cock, he turns your head sharply to the side to slot his lips between yours, swallowing your scream though you think you must have traumatized the people on the other side of your wall with all the noises you’ve been making up to that point.

You gush around his cock that’s still pounding mercilessly into you, fucking you through your high and helping Jimin chase his own. Your juices thoroughly soak the condom and run down your thighs. The added wetness makes it even easier for him to ram his length into your pussy, amplifying the squelches of him fucking you into oblivion.

“Baby,” he calls, his fingers still on your bundle of nerves. “Give me one more.”

His voice is strained, as if he’s holding himself back.

“I can’t…” you mumble weakly.

“Yes, you can,” he rasps out. “Just one more, hmm? Give it to me…”

You don’t say anything because you’re too tired, but even with the oversensitivity creeping in, his cock is still bringing you to new heights and beyond.

His thrusts start to get erratic, and you suspect he’s getting close to the edge. When he feels your walls squeeze around his shaft, he heaves a groan against your shoulder and furiously rubs your clit. At the overload of sensations, you mewl brokenly but somehow you still find yourself trying to rut back against him.

Just a few more thrusts and Jimin is cumming before you do again, with a shout of your name falling from his lips. His fingers temporarily halt their assault on your clit to ride out his high, hot spurts of white filling the condom.

As his sweaty body holds yours, you think it’s over. You don’t need another orgasm; you’re fucked out enough already. But then his hips start moving again though much shallower than before, and his hand resumes their mission on your clit.

“Ah…” you cry breathlessly, feeling his softening cock continue to fuck your battered pussy, intent on bringing you to your fourth orgasm of the night. His skilled fingers strum on your clit like it’s a goddamn guitar—ruthless, incessant—until your legs completely jellify and you’re overflowing again.

You don’t have the strength to moan, or cry out, or anything anymore. Your lips form an ‘O’ shape as you hold onto his arm, riding out your last high of the day.

When he pulls out, he carefully sets you down on the bed before going to dispose of the used condom. Jimin returns minutes later with a wet towel in his hands and a warm smile on his face. You wince as he dabs the cloth between your legs while mumbling soft apologies at you.

Then, he does something that you don’t really expect. Instead of leaving you to pass out alone in the comfort of your room, he picks you up and carries you to his room, still naked and all. Your worn out body is pliant in his arms, and you sink into his fresh sheets the second he lays you down.

Along with the soreness in your limbs and exhaustion making it harder to keep your eyes open for much longer, reality sets in.

Jimin just gave you the best orgasms of your goddamn life.

You just fucked your roommate.

Your life (and this wonderful apartment) flashes before your eyes.

For an apartment this size and a neighborhood this nice, the rent is practically nothing. Your landlord, your neighbors, even the mailman that you see once every couple months, are beyond kind and sweet.

Oh God, the housing market. Inflation. The world is going to shit right now and you’ve just screwed up your entire living situation.

All because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.

But then, Jimin plops onto the bed next to you and smiles brightly, like he didn’t just fuck you into next week and back. The room reeks of sex and the sheets underneath your body are damp with your releases; yet, here he is. Back to being pure sunshine incarnate.

His eyes crinkle innocently, accentuated with an adorable nose scrunch that he puts on display for you.

“Sushi tomorrow?”

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