#why are there long haired men in lace half naked
Note
Aegon ii Targaryen x wife smut please??
a/n: I got two more of the same, so I'm just putting them all together lol Hope you all like it as always <3 feedback is always appreciated <3
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Okay, okay, so he's a bit drunk, but has that ever bothered you before? Stumbling into your chambers late at night, the heat from the alcohol reddened his pale cheeks and kept him from standing upright. A long night of hopping from tavern to tavern, groping serving women, gambling all his coin away, and watching two men brawl in the street, Aegon craved the comfort of his bed. His brain felt slightly fuzzy from the ale he'd piled himself with, and he leaned against the first piece of furniture he reached. He shut his eyes for a moment, shaking his head, but this only made him dizzier.
"Rough night, my love?"
Aegon looked further into the chamber, where he saw the bath tub placed near the crackling fire. Your nakedness was the first thing he noticed. His eyes glued themselves to the tops of your breasts where the water surface began. Aegon fumbled with the clasp of his cloak, laughing softly at the sight of you. In his drunken haze, he'd forgotten the slight bump in the middle of the water. Your baby. His baby. The child you'd created together eight months ago swelled his wife's belly slowly but surely. The maester told him rigorous activity is to be avoided considering the princess's delicate condition, but Aegon could keep it gentle. Something about seeing you pregnant brought out a glow in you. It aroused him to see you full with his child; carrying the newest Targaryen born to his legacy. Another little dragonrider, like his brothers and sisters.
Four children later, and he still finds you to be the most desirable woman in all Seven Kingdoms. He might pinch a bottom or stare at naked breasts when in his eyeline, but no woman in the world compared to how you made him feel. Finally managing to discard his cloak, he tore off his stained shirt as he walked over to you. Messy, greasy waves of silver fell in his face, but he kept you in his sights.
"Nearly lost everything I had on me because a man got his second wind half way towards the end of a fight," he said, working on the strings of his breeches, but his fingers clumsily knotted them by accident. The heat of arousal started working its way through his lower half. "Then, I watched these two whores get into a fight over this old, fat lord who'd come walking in with pockets full of gold."
"So, it was exciting at least?"
"It was." He grunted to himself as he managed to undo the knot, "I wish you'd come. You haven't gone outside the keep in a long time." He snorted when he finally undid the lacings and tugged down the breeches. He saw your eyes twinkle at the sight of his flaccid dick. "I miss us going out together."
"You know I don't like leaving the keep when I'm pregnant," you said, your fingers trailing through the soapy water. "Besides, we have children now, Aegon. We can't run off into the city, frolicking around like two unhinged, shameless scoundrels anymore."
"I'd hardly call you a 'scoundrel'," he nearly fell down taking off his boots, but he kept himself firmly on the ground. Aegon specifically asked for a large tub when you finally married. He knelt beside the tub, using the edge to keep himself steady, "You were a goddess." He pushed hair from your face and stared at you fondly. "I remember the time we both went to The Blue Pearl, and we had sex with those Dornish twins?"
"Aegon," you giggled and patted his cheek, "How much have you had to drink?"
"Not enough that I can't get it up for you," he smirked, cupping your chin to kiss you. "I remember," he looked at you with lust in his eyes, "You laying right next to me as one girl kissed your lips and the other kissed your pretty cunt..." He briefly kissed you again. You never minded the wine or beer or ale on his lips. He put his hand in the lukewarm water, trying to find your thighs before asking, "Why is the water so tepid?"
"It's as hot as the maesters will allow."
"Dragons need heat," he said, running his hand on your belly. "Looks like you need me to keep warm."
"I'm pregnant, Aegon," you said between his kisses, "We're meant to take things gently."
"I'll give it to you gently, my love," he replied, pecking your lips. "Let me help you out. Our bed is warmer."
He lifted you to your feet, and removed the linen dress you'd worn into the tub. Your wet, naked body glistened in the fire light nearby. His eyes drank up the heavy curves of your body as it adapted to the new life growing inside you. Aegon brought you into his arms, slowly kissing you while he brought you towards the bed nearby. His body sobered up immediately at the possibility of bedding you. You rested back on the pillows, and he rested himself between your legs. He stayed bent over you, your belly keeping him at a distance, and kissed you deeply. He hardened when his hand found your breast, growing cold and hard from the recent change from warm to cold. He continued going down your neck to one nipple, and gave a soft peck.
"We did have some fun times, didn't we?" you sighed, running your hands in his hair while he started suckling your breast. "The horseback races are still my favorite."
"Especially when we're on the same horse," he said, "And my cock just happens to slide right inside you." He rolled his tongue over your hardened nipple, flicking it right over the center. "I don't think you ever came as hard or as quickly before."
"I couldn't help it," you giggled, grinding yourself into him so he whimpered on your skin. "Being in front of all those people, the horse galloping and bucking fast down the street, and having your hard cock buried in me...It felt even better when we stopped and you finished in me."
Aegon felt your sex brush lightly against his cock, and he couldn't help grinding back into you. Your lips found his again as you shifted around to grab him. It'd been too long. His body let him know that with how quickly the blood in his pumped through his member. He tried not fucking you during pregnancies, because they can be so delicate, but he can't help it tonight. Your breasts in his hands, your hand gliding over his shaft and your lips locked with his own, the fire inside him burned hot. Too hot. His tongue brushed up against yours as you opened your mouth for him; your soft moans went into his, and he replied with his own.
"The children?" he asked quickly, pecking at your chest again.
"All asleep," you told him. "Mya and I put them down hours ago."
This information encouraged him to go farther. Nothing ruined a moment more than being hilt-deep in your wife and one of your children barges in, crying about a nightmare. Aegon kissed down your body, stopping at the middle for extra kisses, before reaching the middle of your thighs. He ran his hands up and down them as he peppered kisses on your inner thighs. Your pussy, his favorite thing in the entire world, sat right in front of him. Aegon knew from the first time you made love that he'd never find another one like yours. He thought back to those Dornish twins, who lapped and sucked your clit while he slid his dick into your mouth. You two had many fun excursions into sexual deviance together, but nothing compared to a nice one-on-one with the light of his life. Finally, he ran his tongue over the very center when he felt you shudder in his hands. Your belly kept him from seeing your expressions, but this didn't matter. It was your sounds that aroused him. Aegon gyrated against his mattress while he traced his tongue lightly over each fold, before taking it in his mouth to suck on lightly. Every brush on the soft sheets made him groan into you, vibrating around your throbbing clit each time. Soon, he tasted your slick, juices on his tongue and went faster.
He then heard you giggle and looked up, "What? Are you not feeling anything?"
"No, no, keep going," you insisted, pushing his head down. "I was remembering the first time Mother caught you doing this to me..."
"Oh," he chuckled, getting back to business, "So do I. She was horrified. You'd think she'd never seen it before."
"To be fair," you sighed, eyes closed and head into the pillows, "I was sitting on the window ledge naked where anybody could see or hear me."
"That's what made it fun though," he smiled, kissing your soaked sex again. "I recall the sweet little noises you made while I did it," he hummed on you, "And how hard you came right when she walked in." He slipped a finger inside you without warning, which made you jerk for a moment before adjusting to his finger, "I also remember my jaw hurting after that."
"Well, if you'd been honest and told me that you had no idea what you were doing," you said, "We wouldn't have had that problem."
"I definitely know what I'm doing now, though, don't I?" He added a second finger and began pumping them into you while his thumb rubbed your clit. "Don't I, Wife? Don't I?"
"Yes, yes, you do!"
So much so it resulted in multiple pregnancies. Aegon continued humping the bed while fingering you. He listened to your whimpers and cries whenever he stopped, taking a break with his hand and using his mouth on you instead. He thought back to the first time he tasted you. He'd seen two women doing it in a brothel, and wanted to do it to you. It'd been your idea to do it on the window. He'd spent ages figuring out which spots made you squeal; what spots had you whimpering and begging him to stay there and keep going. When you finally climaxed, he didn't even notice his mother there. Aegon had been too caught up in his own satisfaction to care; right then, he knew he'd never want another one. He'd only crave yours.
The moment he couldn't take his own teasing anymore, he knelt in front of you and aligned himself with your body. He looked down to see you panting, licking your lips and pleading with him. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight before. In a swift movement, Aegon slid himself into your hole all the way to the base. Pinned deep inside you, he remained there a few seconds to enjoy your pussy throbbing. Your walls hugged his length, as if pulling him further in, and he could feel your clit wetting the pubic patch above. He loved every second of it. Aegon swore he could cum simply staying inside you long enough. But, judging by your winding hips, he knew what you wanted...what you needed. The last time had been so quick and so long ago, he wanted to take his time. He kept a gradual, gentle speed while he rubbed your clit with his hands: both his thumbs kept rubbing over it one after the other, massaging and keeping it hard while he rocked back and forth. As much as he enjoyed watching you squirm, he really wished to pound you into the bed.
"Do you still enjoy it?" you asked, pulling him down to you for a kiss.
"Enjoy what?" he asked in your kiss, "What? This?"
"Yes..."
"Of course, I do," he hooked his arms under your shoulders, bringing you even closer, and began bottoming up into you. "I love nothing more, in all fairness." He kissed along your jaw to your ear, "Why? Did you suddenly stop liking this?"
"I've had four children, Aegon."
"So?"
"Mother says it loosens up over time," your head tilted back as he started picking up his pace, "I worry...I worry one day I might not be tight enough-"
"-Trust me," he laughed, eyes closing as your pussy clenched him, "You are plenty tight for me, my love. Always have been. You'll get no complaints from me."
Staying pressed against you, looking at your face and kissing you, both of you came together. Your fingers intertwined with his at your sides, and your legs went around his waist to bring him even closer. The only time Aegon ever felt close to anyone; the only time his heart and mind became one with another person was when he was with you. All thoughts of his drunken night in King's Landing faded away at the arrival of your trembling, shaking, hard orgasm. You chanting his name as he kept the right rhythm was better than any tune a bard can sing. Aegon withdrew in time to avoid finishing within you, letting it spill onto your thigh inside while he buried his face into the pillow to muffle his groans.
The post-orgasm glow came in the form of soft kisses and cuddling naked on the bed. He'd clean you up later, of course, but right then he wanted to hold you. You two did not have moments like this very often; there's usually a child nearby or about to come around the corner for something. So, for the moment, Aegon soaked up whatever bit of you he can before morning.
"When I have the baby," you said, watching him fight off sleep to look at you, "We should go into town together like we used to. I'll put on my peasant girl clothes, and we can run amok as we did when we were younger." You smiled, "Maybe go on another horse ride together?"
"Or visit The Blue Pearl," he added, eyes half-open. "Those twins probably aren't there, but gods they had good wine and pretty girls."
"And boys."
"And boys."
You pecked his lips one final time as the pair of you drifted off to sleep. He'll regret the drinking in the morning, when he's surrounded by his children at breakfast, but he wouldn't regret fucking you. He never did.
****
A/N: yaaay more Aegon content! I really like writing dad!Aegon, so I'll probably do more of him.
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon the elder#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x you#aegon ii x yn#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd drabbles#hotd imagines#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#tom glynn carney
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Pest Eddie returns! :)
This time, husband edition!!
:)
Now that you are finally “settled down” and live together it seems like almost every time Eddie takes a smoke break outside late at night he brings in some furry creature
And not something nice
Like a little kitten or a dog with no owner
Opossums, a raccoon once, once he brought in two mice, he’s brought in spiders before, grasshoppers, worms, snakes
And he tries SO hard not to take no for an answer, but after touring you for almost an hour with whatever creature he’s brought in he smiles and goes “happy wife, happy life!” And takes the monster back outside
After to get married he’s very very excited to be able to officially call you his wife
Because well, he never thought he’d be a married man!
And for the first month of your marriage anytime you’re out he’s always pulling your hand up and showing the ring off to strangers “I’ve got a wife, no thanks!” And he specifically does it to old men, especially the ones who want to stair at his with his long hair, his tattoos, and his dark clothings
Or sometimes if you lean in and wrap your arm around his or even sit back down next to him after leaving your table to run to the bathroom or something he will make sure to say loud enough “what are you doing, lady? I’ve got a wife!”
Just because he likes to embarrass you as much as he can to see your cheeks get red and apologize to everyone around you
And he always get the same reply, “you’re such a little shit” between gritted teeth
Speaking of him being a little shit
I always just kind of think of him having a career as a tattoo artist, I’m not exactly sure why, I think it’s because he likes to doodles, and it fits him pretty well
But since he’s a tattoo artist, a lot of time before bed he’s pulling out his sketch book, just thinking of ideas for his flash book or maybe sketching a new tattoo for himself, or just doodling to doodle
But he will turn the sketch book over to you, showing off a sketch of boobs in the corner of his book “guess who’s?” And he laughs, slapping his knee and giggling
And he has definitely come home before with your name covering his neck saying “look, sweetheart. Finally got something for you.” And your jaw drops, trying to figure out weather to start screaming or book a appointment to remove it
“Is that fucking real, Eddie? Do not tell me that’s real I swear to god I’ll get the divorce papers”
And he starts chuckling, shaking his head “it’s just a stencil. It’ll wash off. I just thought It’d be funny! You should’ve seen your face!”
He’s SUCHHH a pest I can’t get over it
I can just imagine him coming out of the shower before bed, usually he’s in just his plaid boxers to go to sleep but this time he comes out in your pink lace panties and he acts like nothing is different until you spot him, and he turns around showing off his ass “I think they look pretty good!”
And when you’re changing, or when he sees you naked or half naked at all really he’s snapping photos, a smile on his pretty face while he snaps as many as he can until he hears you yell “someone has to develop those, you know! They have to see that!” He rolls his eyes, laughing and snapping one last photo before shoving the camera away
And when he’s on the phone with you he either does one of two different things
He answer the phone with “how are the kids?” Really just to throw you off and annoy you
Or in the middle of you talking he will give you a deep sign “fuck baby, keep talking I’m almost there.” 9/10 times you hang up and he smiles until you call back a minute later
And the most pest like thing he does
Well when you’re out with your family and he’s getting a little bored and feeling VERYYYY annoying he will randomly stand up, with a large smile on his face (you, already in the know of what he’s about to pull is trying to yank him back down to his seat weather that be in a restaurant or in your dining room) then announced that you’re pregnant- with twins if he wants the extra shock factor
When you and Eddie announced that you were getting married your families did not believe you at all and it took the whole dinner to convince them it was true, even with the ring they were still skeptical and you knew Eddie was to blame for crying wolf so many times
Shockingly, your family still loves him
And he lovessss to lie
He will come home, trying to hide his mischievous smirk while he tells you
“Nancy got married?!”
“Dustin got suzie pregnant?!”
“You slept with Steve?!”
“Mike and eleven got eloped?!”
“Hopper and Joyce broke up?!”
“I got fired?!”
“You’re pregnant?!”
And he gets you for about 5 seconds each time before you realize he’s full of shit and you throw whatever soft object is close enough to you
Well that’s all I have for now! Thank you guys sm for the support I’ve gotten on all my pest Eddie posts! You guys really seem to love our little pest 🥹💘
If you have any pest-husband eddie thoughts, I’d absolutely love to hear them!!!
:)
#eddie munson#my post#eddie munson x reader#pest!eddie#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson smut#husband!eddie#Eddie Munson fluff#Eddie Munson x you#eddie munson angst
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When Catalonia's National Art Museum (MNAC) acquired this piece, they thought it represented Jesus Christ on the cross. On a closer study, they realised it represents a woman: Saint Wilgefortis (Santa Lliberada in Catalan, which means "Saint Liberated").
This wooden sculpture was made by an artist called Andreu Sala around the year 1689 for the church of El Carme in Barcelona, Catalonia. But why does a female saint have a beard? This is not a shock to anyone familiar with this saint's story.
According to the legends, Wilgerfortis was the daughter of a pagan king of Portugal. She converted to Christianity in secret and made a vow of chastity. Her father gave her hand in marriage to a pagan or Moorish king, but she refused to marry anyone. To avoid marriage, she prayed to God to disfigure her to make men find her ugly. God answered her prayers and blessed her by making her grow a beard. The marriage was broken and that made her father angry. He accused Wilgerfortis of witchcraft and had her crucified, like Christ had been.
There are different hypothesis about the origin of this legend:
Some say it might be related to ancient intersex divinities, such as the Ancient Greek Hermaphroditus.
Others say it might have its origin in a side-effect of malnourishment that many nuns had. In convents, it was very common to fast (=not eat for long periods of time for religious reasons), so many nuns had hormonal imbalances that can result in growing facial hair.
The most widespread hypothesis seems to be that Saint Wilgerfortis and similar legends were created to re-interpret the Christs in Majesty that culturally didn't seem male anymore. Because of Byzantine influence, in the Romanesque period (11th-13th centuries), sometimes Christ on the Cross was represented wearing a long tunic tied at the waist and looking calm. After that period, Christ on the Cross was always represented half naked and suffering. They are so different that they look like different saints and the long dress fitted at the waist was associated with women at the time, so people who saw the old representations of Christ would assume it was a woman with a beard, and came up with legends to explain the beard.
Here you can compare the two ways of representing Christ. On the left, the statue called Majestat Batlló, made in the 1100s in la Garrotxa (Catalonia) in Romanesque style. On the right, the Calvari painting made around 1470 in Granollers (Catalonia). Both of them are kept in MNAC.
There are some other saints with very similar stories to Saint Wilgefortis, like Saint Múnia of Barcelona.
Now you might be wondering, how do we know this statue represents Saint Wilgefortis and not Christ? First of all, this statue is from the Baroque period, where Christ was never represented wearing a long tunic and hadn't been for centuries. Culturally, it would not make any sense for a Catalan artist in the 1600s to represent Christ or any normative man wearing what by then was a woman's dress. Secondly, if you look at the statue from the side, you can see that she has some boobs. And lastly, when the statue was restored, they found a textile fragment at the bottom of the tunic, which was a stitching work made from lace. Traditionally, lace has been a type of decoration used in women’s clothing.
So there is no doubt that this statue, like others that can be found all around Europe, represents Saint Wilgefortis. The woman who was blessed with a beard, and who we call Saint Liberated because her beard liberated her.
Couplets in honour of Saint Wilgefortis for the church Sant Cugat del Rec in Barcelona, Catalonia. 18th century. Source: Mediateques Montpellier. Here, the images represent her without a beard, but the poem explains her story.
Traditionally, Saint Wilgefortis has been patron saint of agriculture, travellers, children who were stunted or had difficulty walking, skin diseases, pets, laundresses, and the agony of the dying. In more recent times, two more were added: Saint Wilgefortis is the patron saint of transgender people and has been claimed as a lesbian martyr.
Source: Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya.
#arts#escultura#uselesslgbtfacts#mnac#baroque#saint wilgefortis#folk saint#trans#transgender#intersex#art history#trans history#museums#museum#history#història#catholiscism#catholic#eating disorder mention#religion
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OUR LITTLE SECRET.
park jisung x fem!reader
genre: fluff, crack
warnings: swearing, haechan sees reader naked for like two seconds, implications of showering with jisung, jisung’s clothes are too big for reader, implies that reader has long & dark hair, reader uses she/her pronouns
2.2k words
you were jisung’s little secret. as an idol, being in a relationship was not only risky, but hard to contain. not only did jisung worry about his own repuatation, but the most important thing to him was your happiness and your safety. and if the world knew about you, he was sure that both of those would be at risk. so he kept you to himself; not even his closest friends and fellow members knowing about you.
you didn’t mind, of course. you appreciated the way he took your feelings into consideration. you didn’t want to be famous, not one bit. you didn’t want to be known as the girl who dates an idol. jisung meant the world to you, and you didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.
so, the two of you opted for hanging out only when the fellow dreamies, who also happened to be jisung’s dormmates, weren’t home. and after your departure, he would make sure that every tiny trace of you was gone. he thought he’d been caught just recently—jaemin had found a piece of long dark hair in the laundry room and was quite puzzled. of course, jisung feigned the same amount of confusion as the other boys. and luckily, he wasn’t questioned.
or even when renjun found a tube of lipgloss in between the couch cushions when he was cleaning one day. luckily, donghyuck’s sister had visited recently before that which made a great excuse as to why there could be a tube of lipgloss in the couch. however, jisung couldn’t help but taste that same lipgloss on his lips from the day before when the dreamies weren’t home.
but he hasn’t been caught, and he hadn’t planned on getting caught any time soon. it’s been over a year since the two of you began dating, and to be honest, both of you were quite shocked at how long you’ve kept this secret. jisung promised you that one day, when ready, he’d gladly introduce you to the members; but for now, laying low was the only viable option.
you sighed at the feeling of the hot water trickling down your back, your hands running through your hair to get the suds out. the only type of wash jisung had in the shower was men’s shampoo, but the smell was absolutely heavenly so you weren’t really complaining. he had just previously gotten out, opting to let you finish washing your hair while he searched for a movie for the two of you to watch before you had to leave the dorms.
you heard the knob of the bathroom door turning, a smile immediately adorning your face at the thought of your boyfriend’s pretty face, free of any makeup and hair completley natural. you were about to greet him, until you heard a voice that definitely wasn’t jisung’s.
“jisung, we’re home a little early. jeno forgot to text you that we were on our way back,” you heard a high-pitched voice say, and you could lightly make out the shadow of a figure walking towards the sink in the bathroom. your eyes widened, a state of pure panic taking over your body.
shit, what do i do now? i can’t say anything, my voice clearly isn’t jisung’s! but if i stay silent, it’ll be weird! oh, fuck!
“dude?” the boy said after another moment, confusion laced in his voice at the lack of response. your hands flew to your forehead in frustration, holding your breath in a nervous habit. the figure walked a bit closer towards the closed shower curtain, and you could see the way he bent down and picked something up.
shit.
“bro, why are there women’s underwear on your floor? and a bra?” you heard a laugh. “i had no idea you liked to wear these types of things, jisung,” the boy teased, and you could practically feel the smugness in his tone. suddenly, you heard the voice of your lovely boyfriend. finally.
“hyuck! h-hey, what’s up?” jisung casually asked, and you could clearly hear the nervousness in his voice. you could make out his figure faintly through the curtain, his hands on his hips as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
“oh- jisung? why is the shower running if you’re not in it?” the boy questioned, a tint of suspicion in his voice.
“oh, you know. just cleaning the tub!” jisung laughed it off, and you rolled your eyes at his pathetic excuse and terrible lying skills.
“cleaning? dude, you never clean!” the boy, that you now know as hyuck, laughed. “let’s see just how good you cleaned the bathtub then,” he mocked, and the panic began to rise in you once again as you saw his figure get closer and closer to the shower curtain. and suddenly, there were fingers hooked around the ends of the curtain and a panicked jisung yelling, “no! hyung, stop!”
and before you knew it, your eyes met a pair of brown ones that had blown incredibly big at the sight of a girl in the familiar shower. the scream you let out was loud and ear-piercing as you tried your best to cover yourself, a similar noise coming from the boy you’d never met before.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” he screamed, immediately covering his eyes, running out of the bathroom as you heard his loud footsteps. you stopped the water, not knowing what else to do as you heard jisung chase after him.
“THERE’S A GIRL IN OUR SHOWER!”
suddenly, a series of voices began to reach your ears, a loud and shocked “THERE’S A GIRL IN OUR SHOWER!?” coming from another voice, but this one a bit deeper. you cringed, an overwhelming amount of regret taking over you. as fast as you could, you exited the bathroom, thanking the gods above that your boyfriend’s bedroom was only one room over. you threw on the first thing that you could find in jisung’s closet—a large shirt and a pair of sweat shorts.
after speedily getting dressed, you made your way towards the door of jisung’s bedroom. your hand hesitated on the knob, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you prepared yourself for an interesting encounter, and also to properly explain yourself; although, you weren’t really sure there was a proper way to explain all of this.
opening the door, you slowly and nervously made your way down the hall and nearing the living room, where several different voices were bickering and talking back and forth—you being the main subject.
rounding the corner, you caught sight of the five boys you had heard so much about. your body shook with nerves and your wet hair felt heavier than normal on your head and your shoulders. they hadn’t heard or seen you yet, their minds too occupied with questioning and interrogating the youngest of the group.
you lightly cleared your throat, gaining the attention of all six boys as they went completely silent. all twelve eyes were on you, wide and shocked, confusion evident in the way they looked at you. jisung silently cooed at the way you looked with his baggy clothes on your small figure, but now was not the time for that.
“who are you!?” one of them screeched, his bright orange hair swaying as he shook his head in confusion. before you could even get a word out, jisung interrupted.
“chenle! don’t talk to her like that!” he defended you. the way the five unfamiliar boys stared at you had involuntarily made you shiver, your nerves causing you to flinch away from their stares.
“guys, this is. . . uhm,” jisung cleared his throat, looking down at the ground as his cheeks went red. he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with his five best friends, and especially you. your eyes sparkled at him, a gentle smile taking over your face at his cute antics. although, you couldn’t really blame him for acting in such ways. this was an awkward situation. “this is y/n. my girlfriend,” he blurted out, his voice going high-pitched at the end of his sentence.
“girlfriend?” another said, his eyes going wide as he stared at jisung. “since when have you had a girlfriend?” he said, his pink hair nearly covering his wide eyes.
“about a year and a half,” you responded, and they seemed shocked to hear you speak. your voice was small and nervous, but had a sweetness to it that made their hearts melt. you were so small compared to them, jisung’s clothes hanging off of your dainty figure like a dress.
“you’ve been keeping this from us for over a year!?”
“yes, renjun!” jisung responded with annoyance. “she just said that, didn’t she?”
“oh, don’t you dare talk to me like that-“ renjun started, but was cut off by the final boy, his round glasses slowly sliding down his nose as he shushed renjun.
“i’m really sorry,” you said, your eyes wide in regret as you nervously played with your fingers.
“why are you apologizing? it’s my fault i didn’t tell them,” jisung said, a look of sincerity in his eyes.
“no, no, no. it’s not your fault. i’m sorry for intruding when you guys didn’t even know i existed. it was wrong of me and i apologize. i’m the one who agreed to see jisung in secret, when i should’ve been encouraging him to be truthful with you all. i-i didn’t mean to offend any of you,” you spoke softly, and the boys couldn’t help but soften at the way you basically shriveled into a ball from nervousness.
“it’s okay,” hyuck said, noticing the way jisung looked at you with sadness in his eyes. he had never seen such a look on the younger’s face, and it almost made him feel bad for making such a scene. almost. “it’s jisung’s fault. he’s the idiot for keeping an entire person from us,” he finished.
“hey!” jisung defended, and you couldn’t help but giggle at that, covering your face to hide your blushing and embarassed cheeks. the boys smiled at you, somehow finding you quite adorable. it had only been a mere few minutes and they had barely even spoke to you, yet somehow you were already like a little sister to them. maybe it was the look in jisung’s eyes when you emerged from his bedroom, or maybe it was the way you smiled at jisung after hyuck made you laugh.
“you guys are all assholes, you know! instead of approaching the situation calmly you just automatically freaked out on me!” jisung said, huffing as he stomped his foot.
“calmly!? park jisung, i saw a naked girl in our shower. how the hell was i supposed to react calmly to that!?” hyuck said, causing you to break out into giggles once again as he shouted at your boyfriend. the boys joined along in your light laughter, all amused; except for your boyfriend, of course.
“well. . . i don’t know! also, why are you still holding those!?” jisung shouted, noticing the familiar pair of blue underwear in hyuck’s hands. your boyfriend snatched them from his friend’s grip, hiding them behind his back. you yelped in embarrassment, for they weren’t necessarily a normal pair of underwear—but rather, lack-there-of.
“yeah? why is your hair wet, too?” chenle pointed out, the boys all noticing his dripping wet locks, similar to yours. jisung’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in shock. suddenly, his entire face was a deep shade of red and his eyes were trembling. “wh-what are you talking about? i took one before her!”
“yeah, right! your hair would’ve been dry by now! our little maknae isn’t so little anymore, huh?” the boy with the pink hair smirked, a teasing laugh escaping his lips as the boys joined along. “shut up, jaemin!”
“hey, i don’t blame you, sung! from what i saw, she’s got a nice pair of-“
“don’t you dare say it!” he yelled at hyuck. you put your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“our maknae can get it!” the boy with glasses said. “shut up, jeno!” jisung responded, clearly at a loss for words.
you giggled again, your mood suddenly lifting. you no longer felt weird and embarassed by the way they looked at you, but rather comfortable. they had already made you laugh quite a few times, and you had only just met them. you looked at jisung and the way he sighed in frustration, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and the way they nagged and teased the younger.
despite jisung’s protests, you could already make out the clear brother-like relationship between the boys. it was evident in the way they teased him, their remarks full of affection. weirdly enough, you enjoyed seeing so much love being put forth towards your boyfriend, no matter how much he disagreed.
for the days after that, you no longer saw jisung in secret. you started to spend a lot more time at the dorms, whether the dreamies were there or not. you even began spending nights there, up until sunrise playing games with jisung and his fellow members. you felt closer to your boyfriend than ever, and you were happy to call the five other boys your new friends.
maybe being a secret wasn’t the best option, afrerall.
all rights reserved, © euphoriclele 2021
#nct fluff#nct scenarios#kpop fluff#nct dream#nct dream blurbs#nct dream boyfriend#nct dream fluff#nct dream imagines#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct dream smut#nct jisung#park jisung drabbles#park jisung fluff#park jisung imagines#park jisung scenarios#nct park jisung#park jisung#park jisung nct#jisung park
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Paying the Toll, pt 2: M Troll x F Human, SFW (for now)
Part 1
Male Troll + Female Human
still SFW (so far)
2.5K/6.5K word draft
tagging @feralprose @monster-bait @apocalypticromantic666 @pre-schoolervengance @bresilienne-ami @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @dont-call-me-a-faerie @kirmalight (comment to be tagged in updates!)
I bet no one expected this to be updated! Including me! This installment is definitely not as long as I intended, because I got really hung up on details--that’s why I’m posting anyway, to get some momentum so that hopefully the third part will be both longer and not so tardy.
Escaping a goblin raid on your village leads you to a bridge, but you have nothing to offer the troll who guards it for a toll...except yourself
You wake in darkness. At first you aren't sure you're awake at all--it's only by touching your own eyelids that you can feel sure they're open. It seems to make no difference between the thick, pressing dark around you either way.
“Mattie?” you whisper, your voice thin and hoarse.
There’s no answer, and understanding comes crashing down on you, like floodwater overwhelming a dam. You are not in your cramped room under the eaves of the big house, Mathilde is not sleeping on the narrow bed an armspan away–if she’s lucky, perhaps she was able to hide in the cellars or the attics, somewhere that was safe enough until the goblin raiders felt they had run out of things to raze and ravish and moved on. Or perhaps help would come, from the regiment billeted outside the market town, or from rangers who might have been near enought to see the smoke. If Mattie was unlucky….
A sob catches in your dry throat, then turns to choking dry heaves that leave you shuddering. Bile burns on your tongue. You huddle into the nest of furs, remembering now where you are and how you came to be here, naked and alone in the pitch black.
Not alone. There is the hush of leather brushing against stone, a faint musky scent.
“Brúsi?”
“Aye.” The troll’s gravel-rough voice is low and close–you almost reach out, ready to blunder once again into his arms rather than be alone with your fears.
The scrape of flint is loud enough in the silence to make you jump. Sparks illuminate the troll, kneeling at your side, and as he coaxes the tinder to unfurl into flame you hastily wrap a fur around your bare flesh. Whatever mood made you so bold before has been banished by your nightmares.
“Is it morning?”
The troll shrugs. “Near enough.”
“Shall I–shall I make breakfast for you?” Your fingers knead anxiously in the soft nap of the pelt that you clutch closed over your chest. “What do you like for breakfast?”
The troll–Brúsi–glances at you, his head tilted in the way that is already familiar. You think it means he’s just as bewildered by your contract, and by you, as you are yourself.
“Dried goat,” he says. “Morning meal, evening meal. Unless there is a new goat.”
“Oh. Where do the goats come from?”
He shrugs. “The bridge provides.”
Well. You take a deep breath, pushing the fear and panic of the last day, of the dark dreams, down into a tight ball at the bottom of your stomach, where you can ignore it for a little while. “Does the bridge ever provide eggs?”
And so you begin your month as housekeeper to a troll.
Your clothes are badly stained, and chilly from being spread out on the stone floor, but they're dry and you dress in them anyway, trying to ignore the scrutiny of Brúsi’s dark blue eyes as he watches you. He seems fascinated by the layers as you lace your stays over your shift, tie the strings of your petticoat, and your cheeks burn with a blush as you finally button your gown. You do your best with the tangles in your hair--letting it hide your face until your heart stops thumping in your ears before you twist it into a hasty braid.
There are no eggs. But you take a lantern the troll indicates and follow him into another cave that serves as a store room.
“There is goat,” he says, pointing at the considerable supply of dried meat, “and other goods, if tha wish them.” His gesture at the heaps of bags, crates, jars, casks, boxes–all jumbled together and shoved to one side–is dismissive, as if there is nothing of value to be found. You stare wide-eyed at a bolt of fine silk, at the glint of gold from a carelessly overturned casket with a broken lid.
“What is all this?”
“Payment for the toll, for when there were no goats.”
“You don’t do anything with the things paid for the toll? They just sit and rot?”
He shrugs. “I butcher the goats.”
You can only shake your head, but the practicality can’t be denied–gold and silk isn’t much use in a cave, and it’s with less wonder but more delight that you find flour, oil, and salt.
Breakfast is fried bread--and goat meat.
Once the meal is prepared and cleaned away, the troll vanishes up the dark tunnel. He takes no lantern with him. He also doesn't say a word to you before he leaves, and you stand in the cave for a while, expecting him to come back with instructions, or–well, something. But he doesn’t, and you can only twist your hands in the skirt of your gown for so long. Eventually you pick up the lantern and explore.
There is little enough to see. Other than what you noticed when you arrived, there is an alcove that must be where the troll sleeps, on piled furs that smell musky but not unpleasant. There is the storage cave, although it seems larger than it did at first, because you realize that you can’t see the far wall before the circle of light gives way to darkness.
And then there is the tunnel entrance, where your new employer disappeared, and which presumably leads out, to--your stomach lurches at the memory of being upside down from the sky–the underside of the bridge. But perhaps that had been an illusion, and the tunnel merely led out to an opening in the bank underneath the bridge? You had been half out of your mind with fear, after all. Maybe you dreamed that part.
Maybe…maybe you could simply walk out of this tunnel, out of the dark, and walk all the way home.
Except that you agreed to a contract. And the troll did say he wouldn’t eat you, wouldn’t even touch you, which was more than any of the men at the big house ever promised...none of them had touched you, but you knew that was because you had been careful, so careful, all the time, to be invisible.
It had helped that Mattie made it easy to fade into the background. She flaunted her pretty curls and winsome dimples, and when she sometimes crept into your shared attic room well after midnight she always had a new length of fine fabric for a dress or a necklace of amber beads to show for it. You asked once if she wasn’t afraid of falling pregnant, but she just shrugged.
“I know to be careful,” she said, and hid the coins she’d gotten for selling her latest bauble away beneath her bed.
Thinking of Mattie makes your eyes sting with tears, and reminds you that probably there was no home to walk back to–and if you tried, there would likely be nothing to be done there except burying the dead. You leave the tunnel entrance alone, and busy yourself with organizing the heaped goods in the storage cave.
When Brúsi returns, he brings you eggs, freshly laid and nested in a straw packed basket.
“They had no goat." He shrugs.
Other than struggling to invent new ways of preparing goat meat, most of your time is spent sorting. You find all manner of things in the storage cave, from precious jewels to plain linen fabric. The gems and gold you store in caskets, and then can’t shift on your own–Brúsi laughs at you, and picks them up with one hand, arranging them neatly along one wall as you direct him. You stack bolts of fabric, folding shorter lengths neatly into a another chest, you line up swords with gold wrapped hilts, swords with elaborately carved scabbards, swords that are short, swords that are nearly as long as you are tall, and then there are maces and axes and other things you can’t name. There’s even a pair of pistols in a tooled leather box, their handles gleaming mother of pearl. It’s more treasure than you ever imagined, and you feel that you’re in a dragon’s den instead of a troll’s cave--except that Brúsi shows little interest in the goods, except for the goat meat.
“If you don't have a use for these things, why accept them?” you asked, after the third day of sorting boxes and bundles and barrels, and still not finding the back wall of the cave. You’d found a crown, heavy and lumpy, like something out of an ancient grave, and under it a belt of bronze scales that linked together.
The troll just shrugged. “They are the toll, for the bridge. There must be a toll.”
“Then…" you bite your lip, but blurt "can I use some things?”
“If tha hast a use for them, then mayhap the bridge meant them for tha to use.”
“You make it sound like the bridge is alive,” you murmur, running your fingers over the bolts of fabric, already imagining yourself in a dress made of such soft material.
“The bridge is the bridge,” Brúsi says.
“What does that mean?”
He just shrugs.
You sigh, picking up a bolt of wool–practical, and still finer than anything you’ve ever worn. “If the bridge provides, can I give it a list? I need thread, needles, scissors, buttons…I can’t keep wearing this dress,” you gesture down at yourself. “Not without something else to wear while I wash it, at least, but I can’t make anything without supplies. And for that matter I need soap–”
Brúsi tilts his head. “Tha may always ask the bridge, but it works slowly. Simpler for tha to go to a market.”
You stare at him, your mouth falling open. “I can? I mean, is that allowed? I thought…”
He stares at you, the intense blue of his eyes unblinking, and you finally shrug. “I just thought I couldn’t leave the cave.”
“Not for long, but art not bound to the bridge as I am. Come.” He scoops a handful of coins into a pouch and leads you into the tunnel.
The ground slopes upward under your feet, and after a time there is a door before you, swinging outward. Brúsi ducks under its arch, his broad form filling the opening. When he doesn't move to let you through, you realize that he's blocking the way deliberately. Unease spikes through you.
"Is something wrong?"
"The bridge made tha sick before," he says. “Tha shouldst close thine eyes.” You squint suspiciously up at him–is he laughing at you?–but obey. You hear the rattle of his bone-decorated belt as he steps toward you, but then he stops. “I must touch tha,” he says. “Just to lift tha over the topside.”
“All right,” you whisper. You stifle a gasp as his enormous hands circle your waist, lifting you easily off of your feet, and then after a blur of motion you feel stone under you again.
When you open your eyes, you’re on the narrow stone arch of the bridge. Your lantern flame becomes suddenly pale compared to the warm sunlight that makes you blink and squint. There is no dark and shadowed forest hemming in the river. Instead there is a road, smooth hard dirt fringed with wildflowers on either side, and the rooftops of a village in the distance.
“Where…” You look down at the bridge under your bare feet.
“The bridge is all bridges,” Brúsi says. He holds out the leather bag of coins, and you take it, staggering a bit at the weight. “Buy whatever tha need.”
You hesitate, glancing from the troll to the road. What is there to stop you from walking away and never returning, from making a life somewhere? The bag in your hand holds more money than you had ever expected to earn in your life. There would be nothing to hold you to the bridge…except your promise.
“Tha canst not escape the bridge.” Brúsi seems to be reading your thoughts, although he’s not even looking at you. He’s gazing down at the water. “Every bridge tha sets foot on will be this bridge, until the toll is paid.”
“Of course.” The bag of coins drags at your arms, and you fumble it open, taking out a handful. “I should be able to get everything I need with these–it would be dangerous to carry all the rest of this.”
The troll frowns, glancing from you to the distant rooftops. “Danger from other humans?”
“Only if I seem to have more money than I should,” you assure him hastily. “It would get attention from the wrong kind of humans. I'll be careful.”
The coins bite into your palm as your fingers clench unconsciously. The frown creases his forehead, not smoothed away by your reassurances, and you half expect him to shake his head and pick you up under his arm again, ready to toss you back under the bridge.
“Please?”
You bite your lip too late to keep the word in, but there are lazy curls of smoke rising from the distant chimneys, and you can hear the lowing of cattle nearby, the friendly chime of chapel bells...and all you can think about is cheese. Cheese, and fruit to pair it with, or potatos, perhaps. Honeycakes. Your stomach rebels at the very thought of dried goat.
Brúsi jerks his chin toward the road. “Go, then. The bridge will be waiting for tha to return.”
You hand off the sack of coins–your shoulders more than grateful to be relieved of its weight–and the troll adds it to the other oddments that dangle from his belt among the bones. He folds his arms.
The handful of coins you kept are barely enough to make your pocket sag with their weight, but you can feel them as a reassuring lump under your skirts. You run anxious hands over your hair and stained gown, smoothing uselessly at wrinkles.
“I wish I had been able to bathe properly,” you mutter. “I look like a ragamuffin.”
But your hands and face are clean, your hair neatly tied back, and dusk is not far off, so perhaps your bare feet will not be noticed. You step from the cool stone of the bridge to the warm hardpacked dirt of the road.
"I'll be back s--" Your voice breaks off as you glance over your shoulder. The bridge behind you is a simple one of wooden logs, straddling a stream that a child could leap across. Gooseflesh prickles the back of your neck. You hurry down the road towards the village without looking back a second time.
#exophilia#monster boyfriend#monster lover#m monster x female reader#troll boyfriend#Brúsi the Bridge Troll#troll lover#Feral Flynn Fics#monster romance#fantasy romance
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She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.
Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse
Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)
Uni Daze Masterlist
Chapter 1 (Word Count 4k)
Harry
Water droplets cascaded down my neck before I grabbed a towel to throw over my head. That shower was definitely needed. My muscles would be sore from my workout this morning, but I enjoy the ache. As I headed towards my room to put on clothes I noticed that my roommates door was still closed and for Michelle this can only mean one thing.
I pulled up my trousers and pulled my t-shirt over my head before layering it with a plaid button up. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands. I walked halfway down the hall and then stopped to pick up the beanie that I let Michelle borrow last night. The hat was carelessly tossed on the floor along with a t-shirt of hers and a pink-ish orange lace bra. This was just one of the many downsides of living with a woman. Even if she is your best mate, finding the occasional bras and panties mixed into your clothes on laundry day can put a damper on your chances of trying and talk to a girl if you don’t have a washer and drier in house, and lets not even mention those four to five days out of the month when a tampon box is left on the bathroom sink and you have to explain that to a date. Not thinking, I picked all of the items up before I dropped the shirt and bra on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward touching something that was so close in contact with Michelle's...intimate bits.
"Michelle?!" No answer…
"Mitchell?! Wake up you're gonna be late for our first class!”
I laughed to myself at her lack of response before I sauntered back down the hall to my room grabbing the Ultimate Alarm; a fog horn that Michelle, the lads, and I nabbed from a school footie game. We each have one and have all have organized to use it with each other when the drink has made us more sluggish than functional.
Not much has changed since the first day I met Michelle. She's the only one here that I've met who seems to have stayed the same throughout all the three years of university that I've known her....That can be looked at as both a good and a bad thing.
Shaking the foghorn with devilish delight and biting my cheeks so that I wouldn't blow my cover, my feet stopped in front of her door once again. I cracked the entrance slightly sticking my arm in the room and turning my head away to shield my ears as much as possible from the noise. As soon as I pressed the button to sound it off, I heard a loud thudding sound followed by cursing. If she wasn't up before, she's up now.
"WHAT THE FUCK, HAZLAND?!”
I ran back to my room to put the horn down and grab my bag. This is the first year that I haven't strained my back to pick it up. Fouth year with a lighter load but more studying than I did in all the other three years combined seems pretty backwards to me, but I won't complain.
"What time is it?”
"Half- Oh-“
Michelle emerged from her room looking worse for wear. Her hair was in a nest atop her head and she only wore a long sleeved burgundy t-shirt and a black pair of boy short knickers on her lithe, lanky frame. I swallowed deeply and turned my head away not expecting her to be so scantily clad. The colors contrasted with her warm honey/caramel skin tone and it was only then that I took in how much of her skin was actually showing. I've seen her naked before but it was an accident and brief. Very brief. I only saw her outlines really, nothing of real importance... not that I was trying to look or anything.
"Half past eight. Go put on trousers! I don't want to see your bajingo!”
Michelle primped her dry lips at me prior to moistening them with a swipe of her tongue, making sure to flip her middle finger up in my direction before she disappeared back into her room.
"Everyone wants to see my bajingo Harry and that's plenty of time for me to get ready. You didn't have to use the Ultimate Alarm. It's not like I was in a drug induced coma!”
"I called you twice but you didn't answer. I thought that-“
I trailed off my words as a gorgeous blonde walked out of Michelle's room. Her hair was tussled and she was scrambling to adjust her skirt as Michelle looked at me with a tightlipped grin, feeling out the room.Michelle walked her secret house guest to the door and gave her a lingering kiss that caused the girl to stand on tip toe before awkwardly waving a goodbye to her and shutting the door. I was left stunned.
"Pick your jaw up off the floor Styles!”
"That- that was a girl.”
“Yes."
"She was your friend?”
“No."
Michelle walked into the kitchen grabbing an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator. She took a sip straight from the jug causing me to grimace before she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a red solo cup. I was only momentarily distracted before I continued on my previous trail of thought.
"But, you were...and she…"
"Yes Harry, spit it out come on. You're almost there. I know it. I can feel it”
"She was putting her clothes back on.”
Michelle nodded her head in agreement as she continued to guzzle the rest of our citrusy, pulp free juice. After she finished it, she tossed the empty plastic to me and then walked out of the kitchen. I was right by the bin but set the cup on the countertop as my brain continued to navigate through what I think I want to ask.
"You didn't have on many clothes…"
"No, Harry. Neither of us did last night.”
Michelle folded her arms while squinting at me. The hint she's dropped allows what comes out of my mouth next to be uninhibited and honestly sound a bit too over zealous about the idea.
"You had sex with her?”
Michelle nodded her head up and down grinning slightly. Almost a smug look on her face I would say. She hadn't been in a relationship in a while. The last one I remember was when she was with my best mate Louis. It's how I met her as a matter of fact. Michelle and Louis are virtually the same person. It's freaky sometimes. She could be a reincarnate of him as a girl. They were inseparable, but when it ended it ended badly. I'm still not clear on the reason why. Neither of them will talk about it, but I managed to stay neutral in the whole situation and still be able to carry on a friendship with both of them. I'm still good friends with Lou, but he doesn't come around as much since I moved in with Michelle. Me and her got on so well while her and Louis dated it was hard not to become friends with her as well. Louis moved on and moved in with his bird earlier this year and I haven't really seen Michelle with anyone...Until now.
"So-so, you're a lesbian then?”
"Yes Harry. I've 'switched teams' as they say.”
"Since when?” I was just so shocked.
"Since over the summer...Does it bother you?” Michelle looked down at the ground and scratched the back of her neck as if she were bracing herself if I said it did and to be honest I was slightly offended that she’d think that way of me.
“No… No, I just never saw you with anyone over the summer.”
I could hear a sigh of relief escape Michelle’s lips as she turned to leave the front door.
I could have sworn she only hung out with me and the lads when Louis wasn't around. She hung out with us so much and we'd gotten so comfortable around her that we actually started counting her as one of the guys and calling her 'Mitch' or 'Mitchell' instead of Michelle. She always pretends to get cross with us when we called her that, but she can never keep a straight face long enough for us to believe that she doesn't like it.
"That doesn't mean I wasn't with anyone Harrow." Michelle winked at me and went back into her room coming out ten minutes later in joggers, a t-shirt, and Nike trainers with no backpack, one pencil, and a pen. Very prepared.
"Told you thirty minutes was more than enough time. Come now, Hazland.”
"...That's what she said." I smiled proudly at my own joke while Michelle gave me an unwavering a stale face.
"If I can say anything about growth in these last 4 years of our friendship it would be that you have made the least of it. You are the worst.”
“The pot shouldn’t call the kettle names. I thought it was funny." I grinned at her irritation grabbing all of my things in preparation to start the final year.
"Of course you did. Usually when you think it's funny that means it's not.”
Michelle exited out leaving me to lock the door to our new off campus apartment but I wanted to know more.
I followed behind her and asked her all types of questions. You can't just spring on people that you've switched sides and not expect them to want to know all of the details. In all honesty it wasn't a big deal as long as she was happy. Perhaps I was just being nosy, but after usually seeing her with mainly men my underlying question to her was probably, "Why?"
"I wasn't having that much luck with guys, Haz. One night I went out for a drink and a girl approached me so I figured, why the hell not? What could it hurt, really? Nothing. I went for it, and I enjoyed myself.”
She didn't have a great track record with guys after her split with Lou. She was so unhappy at one point, but then again when you bring home assholes and expect them to turn into stand up gents tears are to be expected. They always looked like gutter grunge to me but at the moment that seemed to be her type, so I didn't say anything. I've actually spent a lot of nights with Michelle rubbing her back as she cried against my shoulder and handing her the odd Kleenex to substitute for my shirt. Now that I think about it, last summer I really didn't see her with any guys. I guess when I saw her with girls I always assumed they were just her friends.
"So...What's it like?”
"What's what like?”
"You know the, um, the switch...What's it like?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed as we reached the main building for our senior seminar class.
"You mean what's it like going from cock to fanny? Is that what you're asking me?" I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. There's no beating about the bush with Michelle, not anymore anyway.
"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm asking. I’m just being nosy. If it’s too much you don’t have to-“
"Honestly," Michelle shifted her eyes back and forth as if she was going to tell me the secret to life in her next sentence, "It's so much better. Guys have no clue what they're doing down there. It's so refreshing to have someone know exactly what it is that I want, when I want it, and how I want it without explaining myself like I'm a bloody rubix cube. Did you know that there are three holes down there?” She asked me sarcastically as if we weren’t both on track for Med school.
"I resent that! And no…no I didn't know that.” I replied to sarcasm with sarcasm, grinning to myself much like the purple devil emoji. I surely did know all the holes.
"Why is that, Hazland? The resentment issue?”
We took our seats in the half full lecture room at the back of the class as we normally do. Michelle, myself and the rest of the gang have started many an early weekend by sitting in the back of the class, signing the attendance sheet and then leaving when the professors back was turned. I don't think I'll do that this year though. I have too many important tests to take if I want to be a doctor. I mean to pass the UKCAT exam the first time.
"Because I'm not half bad at it. At least I don't think I am... Never got a complaint before and I don't intend to.”
Michelle laughed loudly as the professor walked in, drawing attention our way. I smiled and waved at the onlookers before Michelle chuckled again grabbing my hand to stop me as the professor started to speak.
"Just because you never got a complaint doesn't mean that it wasn't said, Harrow. Nine times out of ten, if you don’t hear a complaint it’s because she cares more about your ego than her orgasm...It’s a shame really.”
I primped my lips at her and we continued to whisper to each other back and forth while we took notes on what the professor wrote on the whiteboard during the lecture. There would be two major papers in this class. Thankfully for the twenty page essay that we'll be assigned to do later on in the quarter we can have a partner. Michelle quickly leaned her head on my shoulder choosing me to work with when the paper isn't even due until the last week of class. I of course accepted her. Not only is she my friend but she's one of those annoyingly clever people. I've honestly never seen Michelle open or purchase one required textbook in all of our three years knowing each other in our university careers, but every time marks are posted her marks are always first class honors.
By the end of class, I ended up giving Michelle a hefty amount of paper for notes in seminar and for the other classes she had throughout the rest of the day. It baffles me as to how she's this born genius, but the most unorganized person that I know at the same time. Her only response to my annoyance was, "At least I have writing utensils.”
"Was that girl this morning your girlfriend?”
"No. I'm an admitting fuckgirl. What’s the saying? If you can’t beat them join them. I refuse to be part of the played group any more. It's our last year after all. I figure it's time to up the ante. Let monogamy go.”
I laughed and shook my head before another question came up. It was always something I wanted to know about lesbians but was too embarrassed to ask. It's not like I have many lesbian friends who I could turn to and get the information that most want to know. I'm never that embarrassed around Michelle though.
"So, erm, um...who's more dominant, when you're...You know?”
Michelle rolled her eyes at the question and I began to feel like an ass.
"When we're scissoring?" She spoke loudly making my thought about embarrassment wrong.
“Chelle!"
Michelle snickered knowing that she's put a vivid image in my head of her and the mystery blonde. I shake the thought before I get too carried away. I'm not supposed to get aroused with the thought of my best friend and another girl.
"Whoever feels like it whenever they feel like it? It was always a competition with men isn't it?”
“I don’t think it’s so much a competition as it is that some women don't like being on top?” I spoke presenting the idea causing her to pop her lips in disagreement.
“It’s never asked though is it? Sounds like male assumption to me. When I'm with a girl it's just flat out pleasurable for the pair of us. It's not about dominance, Harry. It's about getting off. Scissoring isn't a thing though, by the by.”
I nodded my head up and down still in awe that she of all people had taken a liking to someone who has the same bits as she does. It didnt' bother me like she thought it did earlier and I hope I didn't give her that impression by my line of questioning. Honestly these were just things I always wanted to know. I'm actually more hurt that scissoring apparently isn't a thing...They make it look so pleasurable in porn...I've been bamboozled.
"That's enough questions about me for now. What's happened to you?”
"What do you mean?"
"Harry full offense, but you were a slut when I first met you. You've since depleted in your numbers dramatically, except I'm sure the use of your hand. There were tissues in your bin the other night when I was cleaning the apartment and you don't have a cold…"
"I have h-hay fever Michelle! Allergies kick up at random times... Don't clean my room, I'll do it! It's personal in there. I knew I couldn't find any of my shit for a reason. And hang on-" I knotted my eyebrows playfully at her earlier slut comment.
I admit that I got around, but I moved very slowly. I've only ever had sex with seven or maybe nine girls in my twenty-one years give or take. I don't really keep count. It's not like they were souvenirs or notches on my belt for me to keep track of. All of them were an experience and I'm pretty sure I could name them all if I had to.
The first time happened my last year in 6th form or high school you could say and I didn't even know Michelle then. I got teased for that a bit, but I wasn't in a rush. The maybe other seven or eight happened here at uni but it wasn't as frequent as Michelle makes it out to be. The first two were in my first year when I met Michelle, one of them ended up being my girlfriend over a span of Five months. After that, I only was only ever active with a few more spaced out over the course of two and a half years, and they were regulars. That's not that bad when you think about it, especially for a guy my age at university.
"You were Haz! You had a new girl every weekend.”
"I did not! They were the same few people. They just kind of, alternated? You just never paid them any attention so you thought they were different every time. You're giving me more credit than I deserve."
Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to tease me.
"Whatever. What's happened then?”
"I don't know what you mean. I got invested in my studies. I have to take the UKCAT this year.”
"When is the last time you fun bit wrestled, willy waggled, played 'hide the helmet', rolled in the hay as they say?" I scrunched my nose and then thought about it and then got frustrated that I had to actually think about it.
“Yet I’m the worst? Who’s this they you speak of?" I asked her, squinting my eyes and tilting my head to the side.
"Everyone says those things when talking about sex. The more mature ones do anyway. Stop dilly dallying and answer the question. When is the last time you put your 'p' in a ‘v'?"
"S-spring? Early spring? Early Spring terms I guess…"
I could feel my cheeks turn red as I answered her question and Michelle bit her cheeks as an odd snorting noise left her nose while she tried to hold in her laughter. It's not that funny.
"You haven't fucked since the spring?" I laughed more at myself than at the shocked look on her face and shook my head no.
"No, not actual Spring. Early spring terms, so February...My birthday.”
"Harry, we're at the end of August here! You might as well count yourself as celibate. Not that I can blame the girls for dodging you. You still call a vagina a bajingo.”
I chuckled before I spoke, "The word vagina is honestly just as bad as bajingo. And this is coming from someone who has over a hundred words and phrases for sex.”
"A hundred and counting, Harrow.”
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make the red in my cheeks less noticeable by rubbing my hand over my face. Spring term is when I decided to get more focused. I threw myself into clubs and my books to try to get more into school and buckle down. I'm even president of our graduating class now, prepared to serve on the Alumni council after graduation and I for one am proud of myself for getting this far. The greater half of my first three years here at university was spent at frat parties and in my bed sleeping class time away. I barely know how I made it through this far with decent grades, but I'm grateful that I did. Failure isn't an option.
Michelle stood on tip toe, leaning her head on my shoulder all the while soothingly rubbing my back. When I turned my head to face her, she batted her long lashes at me and made her big brown eyes look like one of those odd cartoon characters whose eyes cover more than half of their face.
"It's okay, Harry.”
"What is?”
"That you haven't gotten any pussy in over six months." Michelle has officially taken a back seat and let Mitchell take the wheel. This is how she got the nickname in the first place.
"Sod off Mitch! It's not like it's a bad thing-“
"Like shit it isn’t."
"I'm busy anyway.”
"With your hand and those bin tissues." I nudged Michelle off my shoulder feigning to be fed up with her masturbation jokes.
"Well if you weren't in my room you wouldn't have seen them! Gosh, you do something one time and then that's what people automatically associate you with!”
Michelle lets out another awkward snort that causes both of us to laugh out loud as we walk through the halls preparing to go our separate ways for the rest of the day.
"That was actually kind of funny Harry. Your jokes are getting a bit better.”
"Yeah, I know. They're funny when they're at my expense.”
"Aw, Hazland. You poor, poor serial masturbator. I'll see you later, yeah?”
"Yeah," I grinned at her before I turned to leave.
"Wait, how much later?” Michelle walked back towards me with one eyebrow raised to the sky as I tried to quickly map out my schedule for the day in my head before spitting it out to her.
"Uh, I get done with classes at half five, then I have a class meeting at six, and then I work at the first year halls front desk from seven to eleven thirty tonight. So I'll probably get home around midnight."
I contently sighed and grinned at Michelle as a look of pure horror took place of her once relaxed features. Her eyes seemed to widen larger after every additional activity that I listed, but I truly enjoyed remaining busy. Michelle's face remained contorted with displeasure before she spoke.
"So you're still coming to the pub later with the lads right?”
"Uh-oh. Chelle I don't know. I kind of forgot all about that. I don't think I will though, it's Monday and-“
"Ah, ah, ah, I'm not taking no as an answer. You promised and it's welcome week anyway. The pub is gonna be live! Just swing by and have one drink.”
“Nahhh I think I’m gonna-”
"One drink.”
“Sit this one out.”
"One drink, Harrow. One. Come on its tradition. You can't just bum out on tradition. This is our last year." She held up her tiny pointer finger to emphasize her point before she spoke again, this time in a small whisper, “One."
“No."
“Please?"
“No."
“Please?” Her lips pouted and her eyes turned sad trying her hand at manipulation.
"No, Chelle. No. Stop looking at me that way...Oh! Gah! Fine. I'll head to the pub when I get off work. One drink. One.”
Michelle bounced on her feet and clapped her hands in excitement making me shake my head before I turned to leave. Before I could make a real step Michelle called my name again.
"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen? I seemed to have dropped mine."
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harrystylesfanfic#harrystylessmut#harrystyleswriting#harry styles fic rec#harry styles x oc#harry styles x original character#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles recommendations#harry styles masterlist#harry styles imagine#harry styles drabble#woah woah woah I'm super nervous posting this here#I wrote this on Wattpad years ago and am just now fixing and editing it#long hair harry#short hair harry#friends to lovers
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Hey dear💟 how are you? Can I ask for some mob!tom smut?? Like he's smoking a cigar at a boring wedding when he meets a mob!reader and after talking a bit things just happen and he takes her home for fucking all night?
Oh and ends in fluff??
Hi nonnie! I'm fine hope you are well too. Here's your request hope you like this.
Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader
Warnings : 18+, SMUT, mature content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
His Queen, Her King
Being the mob boss Tom had to be a part of various social gatherings, galas, parties etc but the most he dreaded were weddings. Especially when you're an eligible bachelor, people around you are constantly nagging you with the most evident question ‘when is your turn?’ There were several occasions where the leaders of other mobs had tried to set him up with their daughters to forge an alliance but he would turn them down every time because he never found them to be his match. He likes to be in control but that doesn’t mean he would settle for a mere puppet who would dress up pretty and do as told, he wanted someone powerful, fierce who would challenge his authority, a real queen to his vast empire.
It was one of his childhood friends' wedding day so he couldn't say no. The hall was buzzing with people as he was seated with a couple of his friends at a table drinking and laughing loudly talking about their busy lives and their businesses. One hour to the wedding reception and Tom was already bored he lit up a cigar and took a long puff from it watching everyone silently.
Just then you walk in through the doors in a long red silk dress hugging your body like a second skin with a thigh high slit paired with pointed stilettos making heads turn. Your hair styled into loose curls cascading down your shoulders complimenting your dewy makeup. Your wrists and ears sparkling with the most priceless authentic diamonds. Apart from being the maid of honor you are the only woman in the mob business who owns the biggest diamond business in the country.
People were obviously envious of your power though they never dare to say anything to your face but you have heard how people think you just got lucky with the business as the only daughter of your father, women have no place in the mob even to the extent of being slut shamed and being accused of sleeping with your rivals to run the business. You had simply shrugged it off and showed those people with a flourishing business and earning double profits than your father used to earn when he used to run the mob. You walk over to your best friend.
“Congratulations Jane, finally you’re a married woman now!” you give her a hug.
“Thanks Y/N it feels like a dream honestly” she chirps “but when are you…”
“Please you also don’t start” you both chuckled and continued gossiping.
“Man why are these receptions so dull and boring” Matt groaned “couldn’t they do it at a bar or strip club?”
“Yeah it would have been fun to watch your wife beat the shit out of you after you flirted with one of the strippers” Carl mocked to which everyone laughed out loud including Tom.
“Hey!!” Matt revolted in protest as all of them laughed again.
Your conversation was constantly getting disturbed with their constant brawls and loud laughter. Even the other guests had a frown on their face with the noise they were making.
“I apologize on behalf of my friends, they can sometimes be a little loud” Paul the groom said apologetically.
"It’s ok I know how to deal with guys like them. Let me handle it” You offer and stride your way to their table.
“Sorry to crash the fun boys but some of us are actually here to attend the reception not to hear your meaningless chatter” you jibe forcing a smile as the men turn their attention towards you. Tom puts down his cigar blowing out the smoke as he takes a quick glance of you.
“I'm sorry love, are we offending you?” he remarks with a smolder and the men around him hollered. The corner of your lips quirk into a sly smirk as you step closer to him drawing a finger along his jawline.
“It will take a lot more than this baby face to offend me” you taunt him back with a grin amusing everyone including Tom at your comeback.
“Oooh damn!” the men hollered again while you turned your back and strutted off to join your friends again. Tom just sat there completely blown away by your boldness. He had heard about you but now that he saw you he understood that you weren’t just a beautiful face after all who just got lucky in the mob business you were a complete badass. The very image of you radiates power and triumph.
His eyes seeked yours the whole time and then he found you finally all by yourself near the open bar drinking a glass of whisky. He approaches you as he clears his throat.
“Ahem, hey” you lift your eyes from the glass and then put it down on the counter smacking your lips.
“Here to apologise for being a jerk?” you quip.
“I thought we were even already” he remarks with a smug grin.
“Yeah maybe” you half shrug
“Tom Holland by the way” he reaches his hand out and you dismiss it by picking your glass again and taking a sip.
“I know who you are, the boss of the most powerful mob in London” you say nonchalantly
“Keeping tabs I see” he smirks as he signals the bartender to hand him a drink as well.
“It’s a risky business Holland you gotta keep records about your potential rivals” you state blandly.
“Absolutely, couldn’t agree more” he takes a sip wincing at the strong taste of the drink.
“So all alone? Bossman didn’t get any arm candy for the night?” you snicker.
“Only a queen fits beside a king like me darling and I haven’t found one yet , what about you?”
“Well I haven’t found my king either” you clink your glass to his as you both gulp down your drinks.
“You look ravishing in that dress I must say” he compliments with a suave in his voice.
“Thank you. You don’t look bad either” you flirt back as you bite the corner of your lip checking him dressed in an Armani suit the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the golden light of the chandeliers.
“I really admire you. Honestly it’s really hard and dangerous to run a business when you’re a woman” there was a different kind of sparkle in his eyes which you recognize very well.
“What can I say I just love playing with danger” you shrug with sass in your voice.
“You wanna get out of here? I’m sure nobody will miss us” he licks his lips eyes darkening with pure desire.
“Well what are we waiting for?” you smirk with a mischievous glint in your eyes both of you coming to a silent agreement.
The whole ride to his mansion was a blur as soon as you were inside he had you pinned up against the door as his lips met yours hungrily. His lips tasted of burnt cigar and whisky. He started leaving trails of kisses on your jaw and neck while his hand snaked down to your thighs through the slit of your dress unclasping the thigh holster from your leg as it dropped on the ground with a loud clatter. His hand moved further to your flimsy lace thong to feel your sex.
“So wet already, love? I haven't even touched you properly” you can hear the smirk in his voice. His hand goes to unzip your dress as he leans in for a kiss but you stop him placing two fingers on his lips slowly tracing them.
“Bedroom?” you ask breathing heavily.
“Upstairs left” he informs between shallow breaths.
You gave him a peck on his cheek and made your way up the stairs. Tom’s eyes never left you as he watched you slide the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders and dropping it off on the floor striding away in just your strapless bra and thong your heels clacking against the marble floor. Tom scoffed in amusement a toothy grin forming on his face . You were really something who was just driving him crazy.
The moment he walked in the bedroom he felt himself twitch inside his pants. There you were sitting in the middle at the edge of the bed slightly leaning on your palms with your legs crossed one above the other. You looked like a viscous siren slowly entrapping him with your charm and beauty.
“Nice bedroom” You gently smoothed the silk sheets with your hand.
“Glad you liked it” he said smiling.
“Are you just gonna stand over there?” You unclipped your bra and lazily dropped it on the floor putting on a show for him as you lifted a hand pointing a finger motioning him to come closer. A low groan escaped from his mouth at the sight of your exposed breasts as he strolled towards you unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his body drinking in your almost naked form with lustful eyes. You subconsciously licked your lips marveling his taut muscles. He tilted your chin up as you gazed in his brown eyes with parted lips.
“God you’re gonna be the death of me” he mumbles in a husky voice.
“That was the plan all the time, I can then take over your mob” you giggle playfully.
“You minx” he knelt down to capture your red tinted lips passionately tongues clashing against each other as you ran your fingers across his abdomen, nails scraping his skin. He gently pushes you down on the mattress as you shift back in the middle of the bed. He spreads your legs to accommodate himself as he crawls up to be at level to your face pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips. Goosebumps covered your skin as you felt his bulge brushing on your thighs. You tilted your head to the side as he took the opportunity to suck marks on the nape of your neck. One hand squeezing your ass the other palming your breast as he placed butterfly kisses all over your skin.
“So pretty” he mumbles, pressing kisses between the valley of your breasts,you shuddered when he flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud.
“Oh” you gasped when he wrapped his mouth around your breast sucking the nipple between his teeth, kneading the other fingers pinching and tugging on it. After paying equal attention to the other one too before continuing his journey south. Your stomach flutters as his lips trail down your rib cage, navel the cold gold chain dangling down his neck feeling ticklish against your hot skin. He placed a soft kiss over your soaked panties and you felt that your body was set to fire as you gasped lightly chest heaving up and down. A smirk forms on his face as he moves to kiss your inner thighs ignoring the place where you needed him the most.
“Please” you let out a quiet whimper
“Please what darling?” he whispers with a husky voice.
“Touch me”
“I’m touching you love” he lightly chuckles, you whined in protest. “You gotta be more specific with your demands, love, what do you need?” he coos.
“I-I need you, your mouth” you breathed out.
“See that wasn’t so hard” he practically rips off your thong and throws the shredded fabric away letting out a low growl at the sight of your glistening cunt. He hooked his arms to your thighs, the rings on his fingers felt cold against your skin. He licks a long stripe up your folds sending jolts of pleasure up your body making you squirm in his hold.
“So sweet” he mumbles against your heat. You let out a soft gasp, your hands threading into his soft brown curls as he swirled his tongue through your folds.
You cry out when his tongue flicks your swollen clit giving his hair a harsh tug he groans into your heat. He continued to suck on your clit between his lips pushing a thick digit inside you. Your body arched bucking your hips into his mouth he had to place a hand on your lower stomach to keep you in place. He then adds another finger pumping it in and out of you his teeth grazing your sensitive bud soothing it after with his tongue immediately.
“Fuck!” You moaned feeling euphoric eyes fluttering shut as he devoured you. Your body tensed up when he added another finger to your heat, your one hand was pulling his hair painfully and the other squeezing your breast rolling your nipple between your fingers. He curled his fingers hitting your spot sending you over the edge.
“C’mon love, let it go want you to cum all over my fingers” he moaned into your heat the vibrations leading you to tumble down the edge as you came undone around his fingers. He helped you ride your high still sucking on your clit, your legs trembled as he lapped up all your juices. He pulled away after sometime his chin glistening with your arousal.
He got rid of his dress pants along with his boxers and then crawled over to you. You gazed into his warm brown eyes still in your post orgasmic haze as you pulled him down to capture his lips with an urgent need. You tasted yourself on his lips as he deepened the kiss grinding his hips into yours.
A soft gasp escaped your lips when you felt the tip of his member brushed against your entrance. He gripped his member giving it a few pumps before lining up against your core. You placed a hand flat on his stomach signalling him to stop. He knitted his brow in confusion when you flipped him over to be on top him sitting on the back of your knee straddling his waist.
“I wanna ride you” you whisper in a sultry voice and his lips curl up to a smirk.
“Then go ahead, darling” he shuffles back a little resting himself comfortably against the headboard. You brought your hand to your mouth and gave it lick before grabbing his member using it for lubrication, slowly pumping his length and lining it up to your weeping core. Your breath hitched when you felt his tip slide through your entrance stretching your walls in a nice way. You slowly sank down on his length feeling so full of him. You stayed like that, your walls warm and snug squeezing him like a vice. Tom groaned when you clenched around him.
“Oh god Y/N please move or I'm not gonna last for another minute” you leaned down to kiss him starting to move your hips slowly adjusting to his thick shaft.
“Shit” He hissed as you lifted yourself hand gripping on his thighs for leverage to go a little faster, the soft sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room. Your stomach clenched as you paced up and down his cock, each time filling you up to the hilt. His hands held your hips, fingers digging in your skin groans rumbled in Tom’s throat as he clenched his jaw. He gazed at you with hooded eyes smitten by the way your back arches towards him and your tits bounce with every thrust.
You started to feel a little exhausted, a thin sheen of sweat lining your bodies as you slowed down your pace. Tom’s hands slid down to your ass, spreading your cheeks as he took control, thrusting up into you. You jolted forward moaning out loud, grasping on to his shoulders tightly for support.
“Just because you're on the top don't think you're in control darling” he says cheekily you let out a light chuckle at his comment before whimpering when his cock hit your sweet spot.
He lifted his knees, planting the heels of his feet into the mattress for leverage as he began to fuck you roughly. He grunted, feeling your walls clench around his cock with every thrust of his hips. You leaned down to kiss him sloppily he reciprocates by slipping his tongue into your mouth swirling it inside your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as you felt a tight knot build inside your stomach.
“Tom” you moan breathlessly, eyes squeezing shut as your hands slide down his shoulder to his chest nails scratching his skin.
“Gonna cum again for me love?” Tom murmured against your lips as he spanked your ass lightly. You nodded your head vigorously starting to roll your hips desperately. He brought his thumb to your swollen clit and rubbed circles as the coil inside you snapped and you screamed out your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. Tom wasn’t too far either as he continued rutting his hips and soon he was spilling inside you.
“Fuck.” He moaned as his face screwed up in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing as he emptied his seed into your tight pussy, not letting go of his grip on your body. You collapsed onto his chest panting both of you catching your breath, your walls still pulsating around his cock, deeply buried inside you. He caressed your back gently, your chest pressed to his, head resting over his heart as you listened to his steady heartbeat while your fingers fiddled with the chain around his neck. He took your hand and kissed on your knuckles gently brushing his thumb over them lovingly.
“I really like you” he finally spoke out
“What?” you frowned, still a bit dizzy.
“I think I have fallen in love with you Y/N” he confesses softly as you straighten yourself to look him in the eyes.
“Are you asking me out when you are literally balls deep inside me?” you snicker raising your eyebrows.
“I’m serious Y/N” he cradles your face with both of his hands “the moment I saw you I knew you are the one I have been waiting for all my life. A strong, independent and fearless woman who doesn’t need anyone, you are a hell of a queen, Y/N. I want this queen to be only mine, together we can rule the world love. I don’t want this to be a one night thing I want to make love to you every night, kiss every inch of your body and appreciate you, adore you” he rants
“The last part sounded a little creepy though” you chuckled “Well I do like you too my king let’s just take things slow and see where it goes maybe?”
“Sure my queen” he smiles as you kiss him softly.
................................................................................
#tom holland#tom holland one shot#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland imagines#mob!tom#mob!tom holland#tom holland fluff
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Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 7)
(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5) (chapter 6)
series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman-- even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.
word count: almost 3k?
warnings: slight breeding kink (but only if you speak romanian aksjghakgjhg), angst, violence (in the form of a fistfight, which the reader isn’t involved in)
Just as you always did, you woke up to sunlight streaming in through the lace curtains, and a cool breeze blowing by. What was peculiar was Sebastian next to you, sleeping peacefully as his chest rose and fell with relaxed breaths. You let yourself watch him for a moment before you decided to try to sneak out for a cup of coffee. Problem was, the bed was sort of creaky and it was very difficult to move without making sound. Your plan was to move as slowly as possible, keeping your weight evenly distributed over the mattress, and it worked rather well— right until the last second, of course, when a loud shift of the boxsprings beneath you made Sebastian stir and blink open his eyes.
You were about to apologize for waking him, but he grinned and slipped his arms around you, bringing you back to where you started and surrounding your body with his warm, muscular form.
“Bună dimineata,” he hummed as he pulled you closer, his voice even deeper and more gravelly than normal.
“Bună dimineata,” you did your best to repeat it back, making him smile even though your pronunciation wasn’t great. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he replied softly, heavily accented and clearly more a recreation of the sounds you’d made than real English, but still intelligible and so painfully adorable as well. “A fost uimitor aseară.”
“Last night…” you began, but you didn’t even know where to begin. What could you possibly say about that? Would it even matter, if he can’t understand it. “God, you’re fucking amazing,” you blurted out with a soft laugh.
“Sa o facem din nou,” he growled as he pulled you closer and kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth instantly. A more self-conscious you— as in, you yesterday— would’ve worried about morning breath, but you now couldn’t taste anything but him and couldn’t feel anything but his lips on yours and couldn’t do anything but weave your fingers into his hair.
You moaned when his kisses trailed down your neck, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into his body one more time, but you had other things to attend to.
“I need to get up,” you announced as you tried to escape from his grasp, but he held you tighter and brushed his lips over your shoulder.
“Nu, nu, nu te dice,” he cooed, making you laugh and squirm. “Stai in pat, fă dragoste cu mine toata ziuă.”
“I have to get up, I’ll be right back,” you tried to explain but he stayed ever vigilant as he held you tight and licked over the shell of your ear. Finally you managed to get him to stop, as much as you didn’t really want him to, allowing you to slip out from under the covers and find your robe where it had been discarded on the floor.
He watched you as you crossed the room and popped into the bathroom for your bag, pulling your birth control pack out of it and using a handful of tap water to wash down your morning pill. “Ah,” Sebastian seemed to have a realization from the bed, and you giggled.
“Told you it was important,” you grinned.
“Probabil cel mai bine să nu ai un copil cu un străin,” he nodded, “dar nu sunt sigur că m-ar fi deranjat atât de mult dacă te-aș fi însărcinat.”
Following suit, he stretched briefly before getting out of bed and searching for his discarded jeans and boxers. You made no effort to hide your ogling as you watched his cock swing between his legs. Even soft it was thick enough that you couldn’t figure how it ever fit inside you (the delightful soreness between your legs reminded you that it was no easy feat). He took note of your staring and grinned devilishly, leaning against the wall to give you a better look. “Îți place ce vezi?” he purred.
“Should’ve known this would all go straight to your ego,” you chuckled. “I’m gonna go downstairs for some coffee. Do you want some? Cafea?”
“Da,” he nodded, as he slipped his clothes back on, “mulțumesc.” Funny how his idea of getting dressed still left him half-naked.
Foolishly, you expected him to let you pass, since you were both going to benefit from your trip to the kitchen; but of course he had to slip his arms around you from behind and give you just one more embrace, making you sigh and relax your head back against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head and you hummed happily, letting your eyes open to look up at him before taking a moment to look out the window you happened to be standing right beside.
You were just hoping to appreciate the countryside scenery, meaning that you were rather shocked and confused to see a car pulling up. When it stopped and the driver stepped out, your eyes went wide and your back suddenly straightened itself.
“...Michael?” you gasped. You wrenched yourself out of Sebastian’s grasp and started to run down the stairs. He called after you but you ignored it.
Barreling down the stairs and out the door, you found your husband walking up the driveway.
“Honey,” he frowned when he saw you, “I’ve been trying to find you since you left— what the hell is going on? Why are you wearing a robe?”
“It’s hardly nine in the morning,” you defended before you realized there were much bigger topics at hand: “Michael, what are you doing here?” you asked, after a few seconds of confused stuttering.
“I’m taking you home!” he replied, as if it were obvious.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, “don’t play stupid. Do you think I’ve been here against my will, or by accident or something?”
“No, I saw your letter,” he sighed.
“And you saw the part where I said not to look for me, and that all future communication would come through my lawyer?”
“You’re my wife,” he replied coldly, “I think I’m within my rights to talk to you directly.”
“You shouldn’t have come here. I was actually happy before you showed up.”
With perfect timing, Sebastian stepped out the door behind you, looking to you and to Michael, and back. “Ce se întâmplă?” he asked you.
“Who the fuck is this?!” Michael asked accusingly.
“I’m gonna give you a chance to ask me that again, in a way that doesn’t make it seem like you have any place to judge what I might be doing alone with a man,” you hissed. “He’s just the groundskeeper, Mike.”
“Then why is he shirtless?” he exclaimed.
“I don’t know! He… does that a lot!” you exasperatedly shouted back.
“Look, I’m not angry,” Michael sighed. You laughed bitterly.
“Good, cause you have no right to be.”
“But I think it’s fair if I’m worried about you spending months alone with strange men.”
“Oh, strange, is that the problem? Strangeness? Would some more familiarity— perhaps a familial relationship— between you and these men make it easier on you, Mike?”
“Honey, please—”
“Don’t call me that,” you grimaced.
Michael stormed towards you, and you felt Sebastian step closer to you as well, wrapping an arm around you. Having him by your side made this significantly more awkward, but it made you feel safer, too.
“Hey man, get your hands off my wife,” Michael growled, pointing a finger at Seb.
“He doesn’t speak English,” you rolled your eyes.
“Well, I’m not sure you do either— otherwise you would realize that we’re still married, and you need to come home.”
“Just because you won’t sign the papers doesn’t mean we’re still together,” you reminded him sternly as shook your head.
“I’ll end it with your sister, is that what you want?”
You laughed, because you were afraid if you didn’t that you would cry. “Jesus, Michael! Are you hearing yourself? This sounds like a greek tragedy, or fucking EastEnders! Next I’ll be discovering I have an evil twin, and you’ll bang her too!”
He was a lot more offended by that than you expected. “It was never just sex. I love her. But I love you more,” he clarified, suddenly getting serious.
You chuckled weakly, hardly believing what you were hearing. It’s not that he was ever particularly nice, or romantic or anything, but at some point in his life he had been incredibly intelligent… and now he barely made sense at all. “Wow, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special.”
He frowned, clearly losing what little cool he’d had at first. He had always had a bit of a temper. “For better or for worse, we’re still legally married— damn it, we’ve been together for how long now? And you’re ready to throw that all away?”
“No, but you were,” you spat back.
“But I wasn’t, and I’m still not. You’ve gotta hear me out—”
“I don’t have to do anything—”
“No, you’re not listening to me—” he talked over you, again.
“I don’t owe you any more of my time—”
“Damn it, why won’t you just listen!” he growled, grabbing you by the arm suddenly. Instantly, Sebastian stepped forward and pushed him back.
“Sebastian, it’s okay,” you tried to soothe him.
“Hey, could you maybe tell your boytoy to keep his filthy hands off me?” Michael demanded at the same time.
“Mai bine ai grijă,” Sebastian hissed, also at the same time.
“I literally can’t,” you answered Michael. “I told you he doesn’t speak English.”
“Yeah, well, I think some things transcend language,” Michael bit back. “Tell me something, pal,” he addressed Sebastian, “did you fuck my wife?”
“Sper că nu spui ce cred că ești,” Sebastian shook his head, clearly on the end of his rope.
“Mike, leave him alone,” you demanded, but it came out sounding so much weaker than you meant it to.
“Did you,” Michael pointed to Sebastian, going so far as to poke him in the chest condescendingly, “fuck—” he mimed thrusting his hips, and you grimaced— “my wife?”— finally, he pointed to you.
Sebastian certainly understood that; and, in lieu of an answer, he socked Michael right in the jaw and sent him straight to the ground.
“Oh my god!” you yelped, dashing over to where your husband was crumpled into a ball on the gravel and kneeling beside him.
“What the fuck?!” Michael gurgled, holding his face in shock and pain.
“Are you okay?” you asked anxiously, spinning to look at where Sebastian was standing and looking much too proud of himself, shaking out the hand he’d just hit Michael with. “Sebastian!” you scolded, making him give you a defensive look.
“Ce?” he shrugged flippantly, though he clearly felt a little guilty when it became obvious that you were irritated with him.
And that was how you ended up here, standing in the living room and tapping your foot quickly, staring at the couch where Michael sat with a bag of ice held to his jaw, Sebastian beside him (though as far away as possible) resting with another on his hand.
“You had no business coming here,” you informed your husband coldly.
“You wouldn’t know about this place if it weren’t for me,” he reminded you. “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”
“I thought you wouldn’t care,” you corrected.
His silence was stern, and he gave you one of those looks that used to scare you but now just made loathing and pity sink down in your chest. It was ambiguous if he was too angry to reply or if he really had no defense. After all, what reason did you have to believe that he would care about your leaving?
"If you're here to make me rescind the divorce order, it's not going to happen. I'm not leaving with you. I'm not forgiving you. Please just go," you sighed.
"That's not why I came. None of that is why I'm here," he mumbled. "I came here…" he straightened up slightly, raising his voice confidently. "I came here to tell you that I love you. I need you. And I want you back."
Now that he was looking right back at you, suddenly you couldn't take it anymore and turned your gaze away again.
"Whatever you need me to do to fix this, I'll do it. We'll get through this. Isn't that what marriage is? Fighting for each other, struggling together?" He stood up and approached you, reaching out to rest his hands on your shoulders; you almost flinched when you felt his touch, but resisted the urge, glancing up at his face before looking over at Sebastian whose injured hand was twitching as he looked away with a tight jaw. "Tell me how to make this right, please."
You tried not to look as Sebastian as you processed Michael's request; similarly, it seemed he was trying not to look at you. But even if you ignored this new, peculiar romance in your life, your marriage was still broken beyond repair and you couldn't imagine anything that could change that. "I'm sorry," you finally whispered, watching Michael's face fall, "I don't think there's anything you can do."
He released you from his grip, less angry than you expected; more somber. "I want to stay and work this out," he explained. "Better yet, I want you to come back to London— come back home— so we can be together and discuss everything there. But I'm only going to ask you one more time before I leave: stay with me. You don't need to forgive me, or even love me again, at least not yet… just give me a chance to try to earn everything I took for granted."
You'd imagined this moment so many times: cursing him out, making him grovel, kicking him to the curb. To be completely honest, you'd even imagined potentially taking him back. But now that you were here and it was, somehow, real, your desire for vengeance was fading along with your desire for reconciliation.
"I have something I need to give you," you whispered, walking upstairs and going back into your room, getting on your hands and knees to search the floor. Finally, discarded in a dusty corner with slightly uneven floorboards, you found the ring you'd tossed aside the night before. Fighting back against the tears welling in your eyes, you picked it up and came downstairs, holding it outward for Michael to take.
"I'm not taking that back," he refused, shaking his head. "You keep it for a while longer, until you're sure this is really what you want."
"I'm sure. I'm moving on. Take it back," you demanded. He sighed but reached out and plucked it from between your fingers, pocketing it though still wearing his own golden band. "Besides, my sister might want it."
He scoffed, turning as he began to walk away. "You're cold."
"Frozen solid," you agreed. "Goodbye, Michael… drive safe."
He shook his head and made a sharp exhale as he walked away, nearly slamming the door behind him. You stared off into space as Sebastian silently watched you; you didn’t want him to see you cry, but it was starting to seem unavoidable as your lip quivered and your eyes grew wide with tears.
“Shhh,” he soothed gently, standing up and stepping forward to pull you into his arms. “Nu plânge, e în regulă.”
"God, I'm so stupid," you whispered between sobs muffled against his chest. "I'm so fucking stupid…"
He whispered to you and kissed the top of your head, repeating one thing over and over that you couldn't make out well against the sound of your own crying filling your ears.
But even without knowing what he was saying or what it meant, it made you feel better.
As evening approached, you realized a new predicament had arisen: would Sebastian stay in your room again? Would you go to his? Or would you sleep separately, maybe even drift back to just being essentially housemates after a unique one-night stand?
Your questions were answered suddenly when Sebastian suddenly came to the couch and scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal a little before you relaxed and let him carry you to his room. He all but threw you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and kissing you deeply as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck.
Already you felt more comfortable with him than you sometimes felt with people you'd known most of your life; you didn't feel self-conscious when he ran his hands over your body, you didn't try to suppress your moans when he kissed your neck for fear of sounding ridiculous— and maybe that was just because it was such a fantastical situation, so unlike yourself and so far from home, that it was easy to feel like a different person with him.
Or maybe it was that you'd spent so long trying to be somebody that people liked, and now you were being yourself for the first time in decades.
You couldn't really be sure. And since your brain short-circuited every time Sebastian whispered something in your ear that just sounded filthy regardless of what it actually meant, you didn't have the time to think about it.
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All’s Fair in Love and War!
Part two
Pairings: Mob!boss Din Djarin x reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v smut, angst, small pieces of fluff, violence, cursing.
Summary: Din is the Mand’alor, head of the mandalorian mafia. He is a cruel man, shoots without hesitation, kills without remorse and fucks whoever he wants. Is he really as they say, or can you tame the beast?!
*comments and reblogs appreciated*
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Unsure of what was happening you quickly wrap a towel around yourself and move into the bedroom. You find him sitting on the bed, naked. Does this man have no shame! Even though he had just fucked you, you didn’t know where to look. He senses your nerves and beckons you towards him. He stands tall towering over you, his hand moves to where your hand is on the towel, loosening your grip. In one swift motion the towel falls to the floor. You don’t meet his eyes. He tilts your chin upwards, so your looking him in the eyes. The way he’s looking at you, it’s sending a warmth through you.
“Your beautiful.”
He moves your damp hair off your shoulders, slowly moving his fingers down and across your breasts. He pinches your nipple watching it harden under his touch. He moves his hand behind your head, gently pulling you to him until your lips meet in a searing kiss. The feel of his plump lips, the taste of him has you weak. He begins moving you backward towards the bed. When your knees hit the edge he gently lays you down and crawls up your body, kissing every inch as he goes. Pushing your head back into the mattress, you can’t help but wonder why he’s being like this. So slow, so gentle, not like the stories you’ve heard, certainly not like before in the shower. His body covers yours completely and staring into your eyes, he lines himself at your core. With one thrust, he fills you completely.
His movements are slower, and you can feel every ridge on his cock as it moves in and out of you. He sucks on your nipples and you let out a loud moan.
“That’s it baby, let it out, I got you.”
“Yes…..Jesus fuck…”
“So tight…..so….perfect…..you’re made for…me Mesh’la.”
He grabs your leg and wraps it around his hip, thrusting harder into you. You feel euphoric, skin tingling with pleasure.
“Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.”
“Oh god…..yes…..mand’alor.”
“Call me Mando.”
With that you come hard. Your pussy clenches his cock, sending him over the edge. He quickly pulls out and paints your breasts in his seed. He climbs off of you and goes to get a washcloth. He gently cleans his mess off you. You find yourself unsure again of what to do, so you go to put back on some clothes.
“You can stay. Come lie down, get some rest.”
You nod and walk slowly back to the bed. He lifts the covers for you and once your under them he pulls you to him. Wrapping an arm around you he whispers “goodnight Mesh’la.”
“Goodnight Mando.”
****
When morning came you woke alone. You weren’t surprised, you expected it really. That’s what your father traded your for. Keep the mand’alor sexually satisfied in exchange for a higher cut from the drugs they sold. Why were you born into that family, you want more from your life than to be a sex toy. You want a job, a husband who loves you and a family. Things you’ll never have.
Getting up you notice a note on your beside table.
I had a business meeting first thing. I will be back soon. Make yourself at home.
Mando
Very to the point. I suppose that’s a good thing, you won’t have to second guess him. You dress in a black lace robe and fix your hair. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door.
“Yes?”
It slowly open to reveal a short old man, “Ms. Y/N, the mand’alor has had breakfast prepared for you, if you would like to follow me please.”
“Of course.”
The walk to breakfast is silent and you take in the house as you go. Wow!
“Indeed Ms. It is a fine house fit for a king.”
“Oh..I didn’t realise I said that out loud.”
“It’s no bother Ms.”
“You can just call me Y/N.”
“If you wish and my name is Quill.”
“Lovely to meet you. Have you work here long.”
“Oh yes, quite a few years now, the mand’alor is a very kind man. Treats everyone that works for him with respect.”
“Oh, that’s not what people say about him.”
“Ah yes well he has a reputation to keep. Can’t be the head of a Mafia family if your soft.”
“Of course.”
“Here we are, you will be left alone, but security will be outside the door.”
With that he was gone. Your eyes were wide like saucers as you took in the table covered in delicious food. Sitting down with some french toast and fruit you try to process the last day and a half.
There is a commotion outside the door and suddenly it’s flung open and a beautiful women storms in.
“So your the new plaything. Hmm, your not very pretty are you?”
“I….”
“That wasn’t a question. He’ll get bored of you soon enough, he always does. Once we’re married I’ll put a stop to all this.”
“Your getting married? To Mando?” Your teasing her now and it’s working, you can see the anger on her face.
“Of course to the Mand’alor. What you thought he’s marry someone like you, ha.”
“I have no intention of marry him. I am here because my father traded me. Nothing more.”
Towering over you pointing a finger directly in your face, “see that it stays that way.”
“Enough Omera!”
“Mando, baby I was just..”
“Get out! Now.”
She scurries out the door and he turns to look at you. You feel small under his gaze. He comes o stand beside you, he reaches for your face and tilts your chin upwards. He looks at you with those brown eyes like he’s seeing into your soul.
“Your very beautiful, don’t listen to her, she is just jealous.”
“Why do you need me if she is your fiancé?”
“She isn’t. I am being pressured into taking a wife, my family believes it will solidify my position.
“What do you believe?”
“I know I seem heartless, and I suppose I am most of the time, I have to be, but what I really want, is out of this life, to marry for love not necessity.”
“I suppose that’s fair. Why don’t you just leave so? You are the mand’alor, you have the power.”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you.”
He bends down and places a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Come, you need to be dressed properly, I do not my men distracted by your beauty.”
You take his hand and he guides out of the dining room, he places his hand on your lower back as you both walk through the halls. Suddenly a little boy comes running out of no where and jumps at Mando.
“Ad’ika I’ve missed you.” You look at them, shock written all over your face. Mando looks at you,
“Y/N, I’d like you to meet my son Grogu.”
Previous/Next
Tagging:
Everything: @lunaserenade @day-off-inkyoto @anaaaispunk @seasonschange-butpeopledont @librariantothejedi @elinedjarin @maievdenoir @kirsteng42 @loserrlauraa @javierpinme @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dihra-vesa @asta-lily
Din Djarin: @agingerindenial @covidihateu
(If you want to be added or taken off let me know or fill out my taglist form 😊)
#din djarin x reader#din djarin x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin imagine
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Part Five: Friends
Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader , Hinata x fem reader
A/N: ahh this took me so long to write sorry guys! Been having a tough few days. But we are back in the game. So This chapter is mainly the relationship between Hinata and YN! I love Hinata so much im actually thinking about making another series with him after this one is done. Let me know if y’all would be interested. I decided to put a little NSFW scene in but there is a warning.
Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut. And more Angst.
Part Four: Chance Encounters
Part Six: Promises
The night you spent with Hinata is no less than amazing. You don’t remember passing out, but your eyes open from your groggy sleep. It takes you a moment to register that this is not your room. Your eyes widened realizing you had stayed the night which was not something you’d had planned on. You take in your surroundings Hinata lays behind you and arm draped over your waist. Your heart speeds up as you understand how close he is to you, his face nuzzled close to your neck. You could feel his light snores. Oh my goodness! You screamed in your head IM IN A MANS BED! AND HES CUDDLING ME! You had never slept with anyone other than Atsumu let alone cuddled. So this was a lot to process. The hardest thing to understand was why it felt so nice in his arms. You quickly shook that thought out of you mind, you probably were just touched starved you rationalized. That’s why you lie to yourself when his grip on your waist tightens and he pulls you closer to his chest, saying it doesn’t make your heart flutter your just nervous.
“Good morning,” he smiles his voice gruff from sleep. “What time is it,” he questions seeing that you had already been awake for a moment.
“I’m not sure,” you admitt rubbing your head, a twinge of pain zinging threw you. You were slightly startled when he leaned over your body reaching for his phone on the nightstand. A heat creeped onto your cheeks at the proximity of your naked bodies only a sheet separating him from your sight. Although the tenderness between your legs showed that you two had been plenty close the prior night. Thinking of some the activities that transpired last night caused more embarrassment to consume you. You did things with this complete stranger that had taken you forever to work yourself up to with Tsumu. You body was sore from the multiple rounds the ginger had put you through, his stamina was insane, although you couldn’t complain he aimed to please. He laid back down in his spot next to you checking his phone.
“It’s about to be 9:30, he yawns rubbing the sleep from his warm chestnut eyes. You peek over at him getting a better look of his physique in the daylight. Your eyes widened because damn was he hot. He laid on his side propped up on one elbow as he stared at the screen of his device. Your eyes trailed down his exposed chest and abdomen his defined abs and pecks on full display for you. As you look farther down the blanket falls carelessly over his lap one leg peeking out. You raised an eyebrow at the little peek of a tan line you could see. You were broke from you trance as he asks you a question.
“You wanna go get some breakfast?,” your eyes widened “ I’d offer to cook but my fridge is still pretty empty and plus my cooking sucks I’d hate to make you suffer through that,” he chuckled. It was too much this is supposed to be just sex, and breakfast sounds to much like a date, too domestic. You sit up quickly holding the sheet to your chest.
“Ah no I can’t, i-I uhhh need to go,” you stammered looking around the room for your clothes.
“Hey, hey it’s fine,” he try’s to calm you seeing how anxious you are. “you stay right here I’ll go grab your clothes and let you get changed,” he said standing pulling a pair of boxers on. You nodded and steadied your breathing as he went to gather your outfit from last night.
“There you go that should be everything,” he laid the pile on the bed next to you, “uhh sorry about your underwear,” he smiled nervously reaching his hand up to rub the back of his neck. You looked down at the pair of torn lace panties siting at the top of the pile.
You returned an embarrassed smile, “it’s okay,” you assure him.
“Well I’ll be in the kitchen making some coffee, uh the restroom is right out the door to the left if you need it, uhh take your time,” he said excusing himself to give you some privacy.
You take a moment to breath before you start to dress yourself. It felt a little strange to not have on underwear but you guess it’s a small price to pay for the pleasure you felt last night. You won’t lie you definitely needed that stress relief. You quickly finished putting yourself together before exiting the room seeing Hinata standing there at the counter full of confidence for being in only boxers with coffee mug in hand you notice his smile that never seems to stray far from his face just as present.
“Would you like a cup,” he asked gesturing to the still half full pot of coffee.
You smile politely smile before shaking your head no. “Uh I need to get going I have class today, but ..” you trail off trying to figure out how to word what needs to come next. “umm look thank for the offer for breakfast and you know for last night,” he breaks into a big smirk at the mention of last night’s activities. “ but I’m not looking for a relationship so it’s probably best we leave it off here,” still smiling, yet not as big as before, he nods. You breath a sigh of relief.
“No worries I get it.”
“Well in that case, goodbye Shoyo, see ya,” you gave a small wave before exiting his apartment.
Hopefully, Hinata thinks to himself wanting to in deed see you again.
As much as you swore it was a one time occurrence you kept finding yourself back in Shoyo's bed. It was always the same you’d head to your bar, sit in your usual spot, order your usual drink and before long you’d see the orange haired man take his seat next to you. The first time you saw him after your lust filled night together was rather awkward. You were surprised when he sat to you and struck up a conversation like you hadn’t had a one night stand just last week. But the chatting was always so easy going you honestly didn’t mind having him around. Plus with him there less men were trying to chat you up. That second time you met him you told yourself you’d keep your pants on but a couple drinks and several laughs later you’d find yourself in his bed with the ginger in between your legs. You could never find it in yourself to be angry at yourself afterwards ,And while this started happening more frequently it was rare you’d stay the night like that first time. Usually getting an Uber home after getting dicked down. You couldn’t lie it was exhilarating being with Shoyo. Although if you were still pretty hammered Hinata would insist you stay not wanting something bad to happen on your way home. He’d offer you his bed while he opted for the couch. Eventually your routine changed you both swapped numbers and soon enough you weren’t meeting at the bar before heading to his place you weren’t needing the aid of alcohol to loosen you up before finding yourself in his bed... or his shower or really any surface in his apartment. You were both insatiable. In time you weren’t rushing away immediately after. Choosing to indulge him , you’ve come to realize that Hinata really enjoyed cuddling and aftercare. Always lighting up when you’d let him pamper you after a particularly rough or extensive session. He’d gladly spoil you after every round but you were still hesitant on to much intimacy. But occasionally you’d satisfy his want for cuddles. Although you’d deny it you rather enjoyed laying in his embrace feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep. That was another change you no longer accepted him sleeping on the couch when you stayed overnight not wanting to be an inconvenience but also knowing he’d never allow you to take the couch you stopped him one night stating that you’d like him to stay. His eyes lit up as he pounced back into the bed.
But you stayed firm in the fact that you weren’t looking for a relationship and he assured you that he understood and was okay with the arrangement. And that’s how it’s been for the last two months. It had been seven months since your relationship with Atsumu had ended and you would have never guessed that in seven month you’d be in a casual friends with benefits relationship with Hinata. And that’s what you would call yourselves, Hinata was your friend and you his. You steadily got to know each other more and more about each other’s lives. You were a little concerned when you found out it wasn’t solely beach volleyball he played but you put your worries to the side volleyball was a big enough sport. Right? All in all you’d say slowly but surely you were getting happier. You found yourself thinking of you know who less, and some of the pain was starting to subside. Although that distrust was still there. You were still broken. As close as you and Sho got there was still part of you that couldn’t trust yet. How did you know he wouldn’t get bored of you just like the setter had. You weren’t ready to put yourself up to get hurt again. You wanted to trust Hinata he was an amazing guy so kind and understanding never pushing you past what you were comfortable with. He constantly looked out for you checking on you during some of your intense study sessions as you readied for finals always making sure you were taking care of yourself and not overworking. If you stayed over he’d always make sure to set an extra alarm so you wouldn’t be late for class or work. It meant so much to you how much he cared but you just couldn’t believe in it , you had believed that Atsumu cared about you yet that was a lie. Who’s to say this wouldn’t end up just the same. That’s why you wanted to just be friends, a small part still kept a window of hope open that one day it may be more but it wouldn’t be fair to Hinata to bring up any of this while filled with so much uncertainty.
NSFW below if you’d rather not read it skip the first three paragraphs.
You laid there breaths ragged as Hinata pinned you to the bed your legs pressed to your chest as he pounded into you relentlessly. This was his favorite position he loved being so close to you being able to see all of the pleasure in your face as he worked your body over, your tits bouncing to the rhythm he set.
“Sho,” you moaned your thoughts clouded as he built up yet another orgasm, this was your third one since you had stepped foot into his bedroom.
“What’s that baby?” He smirks as he see you struggle to form words. He loved making you like this. Eyes crossed as you gasped for air, craving the release he’d give you. “Fuck beautiful you know how much I love it when your so fucked out you can’t speak straight,” he laughed. You smile at him happy to provide him with what he likes. Hinata was getting lost in his lust. He freed one of your legs letting it rest against his shoulder as he grabbed his headboard for a better angle as he started drilling into you. A loud whimper ripped threw you. You felt so full as his cock reached so deep into you. You knew you were done for and Sho could tell as well , “ that’s it beautiful go ahead and cum for me, fuck your so gorgeous like this,” he groaned as he followed you into his own release spilling himself into the condom.
You laid there breathless. Hinata stood disposing of the used rubber, he exited the room going to grab a soft wet rag and a glass of water making sure to clean and rehydrate you before climbing back into bed and pulling you onto his chest. You both laid there for a while catching you breath, your head resting on his chest arm wrapped around him as you nuzzled further into him. You could feel his heartbeat start to stabilize. He trailed one his hand up and down your back in a very soothing pattern. It felt amazing honestly laying here with him was better than anything you had ever experienced with Tsumu.
You couldn’t see it but Hinata laid there with the goofiest grin as much as he loved sex with you this was his favorite part. Holding you in his arms so tight calming you while you are still so vulnerable. He wishes it could be like this all the time. That he could wrap his arms around you at anytime to hold you whenever he wants, to wake up to your beautiful bed head. He pushes those thoughts to the side as much as he wants you to be his he knows you aren’t ready and the last thing he’d want to do is rush you. You had told him a while back about your ex and everything he had put you threw and how betrayed you were by his actions. You never told him who your ex was and he didn’t ask it wasn’t his place you’d tell him if he needed to know and he knew that. He hated how much your ex had broken you but all he wanted to do was to do his best to fix the damage done. As much as he wanted to be able to call you his , he was happy to wait.
You were finally back to normal but you weren’t ready to leave his embrace. You decided to strike up a some casual pillow talk. You asked him about his day, how his morning run had went. He asked if you were excited about graduation seeing as it was only a month away. You told him about some annoying customers you had at the cafe this morning. You were smiling up at him laughing at the story story he was telling when his eyes lit up!
“That’s right I haven’t told you yet but I made it through try outs!” He boasted. “ I made the team!” You could see the happiness radiating off of him. For some reason you got an unsettling feeling in your gut. You put it to the side.
“THATS AMAZING SHO!” You yelled launching forward wrapping him in a tight hug. “What team?”
“I’ll be playing for the MSBY Black Jackels,” he grins. You feel everything slow down. The words are still processing in your mind. No it can’t be! Why? Why did it have to be his team! Out of all the teams in Japan why did Hinata have to go to the one who’s starting setter ruined you. Suddenly all of the thoughts and memories of Atsumu that had been hidden from you recently came crashing back to you. You wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t do it, for the same reason you had pushed away all of your friends and uprooted your life you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t let him back into your life you weren’t nearly ready for him to be in anyway connected to your life. All of the these overwhelming thoughts at were crashing over you were interrupted when Hinata asked his question. One you knew the answer to but couldn’t give to him.
“We have a game next week, would you come watch me play?” He smiled at you. You looked up at him saddness in your eyes. You quickly stood up gathering and putting on your clothes. Stammering for a response. Hinata sat up in alarm at your sudden actions he could sense something wasn’t right. He waits for you to speak seeing you try to form your words. Now fully dressed. You looked up at him his normally smiling face wasn’t there instead it was a face of worry.
“ I-I can’t Shoyo, I can’t go to your game,” you looked around grabbing your purse and phone, “I need to go Sho.” Hinata was now standing he was so confused everything was just fine what had gone wrong. Had he pushed you to far? Was inviting you to his game to intimate?
“Wait YN,” he said reaching for you he need to know you were okay.
“ I’m so so sorry Shoyo I just need to leave, I’m so sorry,” you said frantically looking into his eyes trying to truly express your sincerity in your apology. It wasn’t his fault. He was just excited about his dream and here you were ruining the moment. You always ruin everything you chastised yourself. With one last woeful look you were gone out the door. Hinata was left there in utter confusion. He let out a sigh before sitting back down on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.
You closed the door to your apartment with a thud finally allowing the tears you were keeping in to flow free. You kicked off your shoes before throwing yourself onto your bed. You let out a scream of frustration into your pillow as sobs over came you. The exhaustion of the day took you over and soon you were out like a light.
You woke up a couple hours later it was only around seven o’clock and your stomach was growling. This wasn’t going to be a good night. You look at your phone seeing several texts and a missed call from the ginger. You let out a groan, first you needed food and then you needed booze. You went to your bathroom taking a quick shower finally cleaning your post sex body. Before putting on a simple outfit. You slipped out your apartment door and out into the Tokyo night. You stopped at one of your favorite food stalls getting a small bowl of ramen to warm your tired soul. Normally you’d head to your Usual bar but you couldn’t there was the chance of running into Shoyo there and that’s not something you were ready for. You pulled out your phone finding a bar not to far out of your area, it had a sleeker vibe but maybe a little change would be good. So with that you head straight there. Its more crowded than what you were used to. It had a more lively crowd than you local bar. There were couples dancing and large groups of friends standing around and laughing. You head to the bar starting off with two shots straight back to back. Tonight wasn’t a night you wanted to go easy. You sat down at the bar nursing the drinking you had just ordered. You thought back to the incident with Hinata, he must hate you, you figured. He was always there for you yet one mention of you ex and you couldn’t even suck it up to be happy for him. You hated that. He deserved better than what you gave him. You were getting lost in your thoughts letting you mind go down a rabbit hole. Finally you looked up from your drink eyes scanning the bar. And that’s when it happens your eyes lock onto each other from the other side of the bar. It felt like all the air in your lungs suddenly evaporated. It felt unreal like you weren’t really seeing him standing there. He looked just as stunned like he had just seen a ghost. He snaps out of his first and when he starts to walk towards you it finally hits you that it’s really him. You finally breath and when you do his name leaves your lips.
“Suna,”
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Demon Shit [Part 3]
| NSFW
“I know it was probably scary last time, but stand in the circle, sweetness. Put your shoes and jacket on that chair first..” Dabi’s hand produced a blue flame which he used to light several candles around the room, illuminating it enough for you to see the circle, several chairs scattered around the room, along with boxes and a ton of cobwebs. You did as instructed, shivering as you draped your coat over the arm of a plush armchair and slid your boots under it. Dabi placed a hand on your back,
“Good girl,” he praised, “Now just wait right there, I have to leave the room so the summoning can happen. Seriously, don’t talk to him, okay?” You nodded, but he gripped your face and stared you down, “I mean it. Don’t talk to him until I say or I’ll spank your cute little ass so hard you won’t be able to sit right for the next century. Got it?” You nodded frantically and his hold lessened as he pressed a light kiss to your lips before giving your head a pat and exiting the room, leaving you alone in mostly darkness.
You shuffled your stocking-clad feet nervously, wringing your hands and shaking in the cold. When you felt the demon materialize in front of you, you pressed your mouth into a hard line. You didn’t even look up, staring down at the newly appeared being’s legs and trying to avoid glancing up any further.
The door opened and Dabi lit several more candles, giving you a reassuring wink as you watched him, eyes still wide and hands clasped tightly together. When he was done he approached and you turned to look at him, facing away from the new demon. His eyes darted up for a second and settled on you again, giving you a little smile.
“Perfect. You can speak. It’s all done,” he ruffled your hair, watching with an amused expression as realization clouded your expression.
“If it’s done then-” you screamed as pale arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back against the bare chest of the demon.
“Fuck, Tomura, don’t scare her to death,” Dabi said, pulling you out of the stranger’s arms and into his. You immediately clung to him, burying your face in his chest and locking your arms tightly around his waist. You heard raspy laughing behind you and held Dabi tighter. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and his other hand pulled his friend in close.
You looked up to see Tomura pecked his lips and mutter thanks under his breath before turning his attention back to you, tracing his fingers lightly along your back for a moment.
“You’re fine, little sacrifice. Say hi,” he gently pried your arms off him and spun you to face the other demon. Tomura was roughly the same height and build as Dabi, but no discolored skin. The area around his eyes was a little marred and his lips looked chapped, but his long, unkempt hair was what drew your attention. That is, until your eyes glanced lower before you could stop them and you got an eyefull of the monster between his legs.
All the blood in your body rushed to your face as your eyes shot up to stare at the ceiling, trying to purge the image from your mind. Bigger than Dabi, and that had felt like it might tear you in half. Tomura’s looked like it would ruin you.
He leaned in closer until his face was only a few centimeters from yours and smiled creepily at you. The expression made your thighs clench and your body shrink back against Dabi.
“Lucky asshole,” Tomura rasped, looking up at him but staying close to you, “My last sacrifice was an infant. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? And I still had to fulfill my end of the deal. Bullshit,” he sneered, bringing his red gaze back to your scared, flustered expression.
“Pretty, right? Sweet, too. And a dumb little thing. Fucked up the ritual by talking to me, let me carry her off with no struggle, willingly let me mark her up, and does whatever I say. If I told her to drop her panties and give them to you, she’d do it. Isn’t that right, sweetness?” Cyan eyes bore into you and your face burned, but you nodded at him anyway. A smirk crept over his face and he gave you a nod, tapping your hip and stroking your hair.
“Fucking up the ritual doesn’t normally make them dumb and pliant,” he rasped, “you must have traumatized her or something. Not that I care,” He paused briefly, looking you up and down, “You’re gonna share, right? You owe me. You owe me a lot more than a pair of panties,” he watched you reach under your skirt and pull the lacy white fabric down, a fresh little wet spot visible on them. Tomura licked his lips, “I do want them, though,” he snatched them from you as soon as you held them out, inhaling your scent deeply and letting his eyes roll back.
“Yeah, I’m sharing. Looks like she likes you, too,” Dabi muttered, his hand slipped under the back of your dress and swiped up through your wet folds. He licked his finger clean before nudging you towards Tomura and pulling away from you to shuffle through some boxes at the other end of the room. You were left face to face with the new demon, who was still naked and still sniffing your panties.
“Gonna share with Kei?” Tomura asked, voice muffled from the fabric shoved against his face. Dabi shot him a look and he rolled his eyes, dropping your underwear and leaning in, “I want to kiss you,” he said bluntly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you so your chests were touching. You didn’t get to respond.
His tongue, longer than Dabi’s but not split like his, jutted out as he licked along your jaw. Your mouth opened in a gasp and he slipped it past your lips, closing the distance after and kissing you harshly. Your eyes fluttered shut as your head spun, arms wrapping around Tomura’s neck for support. He held you up easily, sliding his tongue around inside your mouth and down your throat, moaning when you gagged on it and trying to go deeper.
Drool spilled down your chin, dripping onto you both with a quiet tap as his hands moved from the small of your back down to your ass, cupping your flesh and lifting you. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his fingers kneaded at your plush cheeks and thighs, and you felt his heavy, mildly terrifying cock stirring to life just under you. His clawed hands gripped too hard at your already sore thighs, breaking skin and making you whimper against his lips.
“Dude, wait until we’re in a pocket. Someone hears her screaming here, this location is fucked,” Dabi scolded him, still shuffling through boxes. Tomura grunted into your mouth, setting you down and breaking off the kiss, leaving you panting and flushed. Strings of saliva connected you, and you wiped off your face on your sleeve. He let you lean against him, humming contently as he pet your hair and gave you a squeeze, pressing his erection against you. He inhaled deeply,
“You’re so soft,” he muttered, rocking his hips a little, “smell so good…”
“Don’t jizz on her here,” Dabi pulled him off you, wrapping an arm around each of you. He kissed Tomura again and pushed him off toward some clothes he’d gotten out before turning his attention to you, tilting your chin up and kissing you softly before setting you in the chair your stuff had been on. He slipped your feet back into your boots and laced them before setting you on your feet and trying to fix the mess his friend had made of your clothes and hair.
Tomura scoffed, stuffing his hard, leaking cock into a pair of pants,
“Do you spoon feed her, too?” He taunted, zipping and buttoning himself away. You pursed your lips slightly as Dabi wrapped your coat around you and adjusted it.
“That’s why your sacrifices always die,” he laughed, “you forget to feed them and take care of them,” once satisfied with your clothes, he gave you a pat on the head and sat down, pulling you into his lap.
“That was literally three centuries ago,” Tomura argued, pulling on shoes and tying his long hair back, “And I didn’t like that one anyway. The deal wasn’t worth it,” Dabi shook his head when you shot him a questioning look. You settled against him, turning sideways in his lap to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck. Tomura joined you both, sitting on the arm of the chair and fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt,
“Is she always that clingy?” he gave your arm a poke and you gave it to him, holding his hand but keeping your face nestled against discolored, rough skin. Dabi shrugged,
“Since I’ve had her. She just kind of lets me do whatever, all she wants is affection, hm?” he bounced you slightly, sighing when you kissed his neck. You sincerely couldn’t explain why, but you were drawn to him, he made you feel safer than you ever had. You liked the other one, too, but he made you a little nervous. You gave his hand a little squeeze.
“She’s like a little girl or something. Are you sure you didn’t break her or some shit?” Tomura gave your hand a tug, pulling your face off Dabi and closer to him, inspecting your eternally flustered expression, “None of mine are ever like this.”
Dabi scoffed, “You probably scare yours, you made y/n scream.” Tomura smirked at him,
“You haven’t made her scream?” he taunted.
“I’ll make you both scream,” Dabi shot back, gripping Tomura’s ponytail and jerking him forward, pressing his lips to his. You watched with wide eyes, squirming a little as you felt heat building between your legs from the display.
Their kiss broke, Dabi leaning back into the chair with a laugh,
“That do something for you, little sacrifice?” You looked away, pursing your lips as he trailed a finger down your cheek. You heard Tomura mutter, “cute,” under his breath as his fingers slipped under your dress. Dabi swatted him away,
“Wanna touch,” he argued, trying to bypass the other demon’s hand.
“Knock it off. She needs food and I need to get her more clothes. Here,” he placed a light smack to Tomura’s thigh and both men stood, Dabi helping you off his lap and placing your hand in his friend’s.
“Get her food and text when you’re done. We can meet up and get her settled into the pocket,” he pulled a phone from his pocket and stuffed it in one of Tomura’s, “Have fun on your date,” he winked, kissing Tomura first and then you, smoothing your clothes one more time and wiping something off your face.
“Wait, you already picked a pocket for her? I’m gonna have to stay there too, it better be nice,” You stared up at Tomura as Dabi waved off his question, blowing out the candles around the room.
“Are you going to live with me?” You asked, clinging to his arm as the room slowly darkened.
“Sometimes. Between all three of us you’ll have someone with you pretty much all the time probably,” he scratched at his neck, shrugging as Dabi glared at him again.
“Three? Is that Kei?” Dabi winced as the name fell from your lips, blowing out the last of the candles and leaving the three of you in the dark.
“Don’t worry about him, but yeah. We’ll deal with that in a day or two,” a hand ruffled your hair, “Can’t do too many rituals so close together. It’ll overwhelm your puny little body. I’m not the only reason you’re sore and worn out,” you felt him kiss your head and steps walking off. The sound of a door opening, and he was gone.
#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia dabi#tomura shigaraki#dabi#dabi x shigaraki x reader#shigadabi x reader#dabi x reader#shigadabi#shigaraki smut#dabi smut#shigaraki x dabi#shigaraki tomura#touya todoroki#shigaraki x reader x dabi#dabi x reader x shigaraki#shigaraki x y/n#dabi x y/n#shigaraki x you#dabi x you#demon shit
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Show Them I’m Yours
A/N: Everyone knows there ain’t no party like a SAMCRO party. Imagine you’re Jax Teller’s girl and you want everyone to know, so he savagely takes you at one of those parties and puts on a hell of a show. (@itsme-autumn suggested that I write this and I was like um hell fucking yes)
Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader
Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, sex with an audience (Jax owning your ass and showing off that fact in front of all the Sons – they all get to watch but ONLY JAX can touch), featuring gifs of pretty much everyone
Word Count: ~2.9k
“Excuse me, sir?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. Appalled at the audacity of what this stupidly attractive bastard just dared to suggest. “No, I did not fuck up my car on purpose.”
The Prince of Charming smirks at that, hands on his hips, tongue flicking out between his suckable pink lips. “You sure about that, princess? Third time in a week that you’ve come by to get it serviced...”
“Oh, so you’ve been keeping track?” you sass back at him, flattered as fuck that he has, though your pride demands hiding that fact. Of course you’ve been screwing around with your engine all week just to have an excuse to hit up Teller-Morrow and check out his ass, to be honest. But fuck him for calling you out on it. “You’re not even the one who fixes shit. My visits here are not your business, and I’m not your fucking princess.”
His leather-clad shoulders lift up in a shrug, like he couldn’t care less. “Suit yourself. Name’s Jax,” he says with another long drag of his cigarette. “Jax Teller. Knew a stuck-up little bitch like you would be too proud to ask.”
Fucking shit. He knows you well. And hearing him call you a bitch just got you wetter than you would like to admit; you hope to hell that he can’t tell. “Maybe this stuck-up bitch just isn’t fucking interested.”
You flip him off and drive away—your car is really functioning just fine, needless to say—but you’re inevitably back by sex-o’-clock the very next day.
It’s been barely a month since you first moved to Charming, and you’re still not really used to feeling so damn new. It’s honestly alarming, just how shamelessly the men around town gawk at you. Don’t even seem to realize that it’s rude. You’re well aware you’re super cute, but till you moved here, you had never felt so... coveted. So viewed.
Nowhere more so than right here at Teller-Morrow. Home of the infamous biker club known as SAMCRO. The way the crew here always ogles you like heaven’s gift to men is quite a big boost to your ego.
“Know what I think, darlin’?” Jax taunts, sauntering toward your car as you pull in. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing. Know that every man in Charming wants a piece of that sweet ass.”
“Well, Mr. Teller...” you step out of the driver’s seat, standing to face him, close enough to feel his heat. “This ass ain’t up for grabs.”
Jax takes that as a challenge: as an open invitation, as he should. Slowly moves closer, feeding all your deepest hungers—God, he smells so fucking good—then wraps one hand around your back, the other sliding toward your ass... to show you just how wrong you were. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”
Jesus Christ—you want this man to fuck you up against your car, savage and hard, right fucking now... but he has something else in mind. Invites you to a party tonight, at the SAMCRO clubhouse. Who are you to deny?
He approaches his crew, as you drive away, fading from view. All the Sons stand in awe of their President—stunned that he just fucking conquered you.
“Dude, you gonna hit that?” Juice effuses, unable to hide his excitement. “Hot damn...”
Jax Fucking Teller stands tall like the king that he is and has always been, flashing his signature cocky grin. “Hell yeah I am.”
***************
You have no clue what you are about to walk into. Of course you were shameless enough to choose your most provocative outfit: a skimpy excuse for a dress that covers very little of you, paired with your favorite fuck-me-now shoes. Jax had offered to pick you up from where you live, the Prince Charming he is—but as much as you’d kill for a ride on his Harley, you wanted to ride on your own dime, show up at your own time, keep up the illusion that you’re in control of your shit. You’re all decked out and ready to go nice and early, but hold off on heading out yet—figure you should play hard to get, keep the guy waiting a bit.
Your self-restraint lasts for a solid two minutes.
There’s no hope of fighting how desperate you are for his dick. The thong that you’re wearing is made of some thin flimsy lace, so your pussy is leaking all over the place, and the seat of your car is all sticky and slick. That’s real fucking classy, Y/N, you think, quite ashamed of the nasty-ass slut you’re becoming.
By the time you arrive, every cell in your barely-dressed body feels so damn alive at the thought of Jax taking you home once the party is over and railing you all fucking night...
You don’t yet know it then, but waiting till the party is over is not what Jax Teller intends. No, you’re gonna get fucked good and hard long before it all ends.
Parking your car outside, you try and fail to steady your nerves with a long horny sigh as you shut off your engine. Preparing yourself for whatever is coming tonight. Finally stepping out, struggling to pull off a smooth sexy strut as you head toward the clubhouse. All right. Let the party begin.
From the second you walk in, you feel downright soaked in pure sin. All you can see are half-naked strangers slobbering all over each other, bodies pressed together, a blur of sweat-slick skin and old worn-out leather. The place stinks of sex, smoke and liquor, and you couldn’t possibly feel any sicker. Oh God, this is straight up disgusting—fuck this shit, you think, regretting having ever decided to come...
But before you can turn and head straight out the door, you lay eyes on the king, and remember exactly why you had accepted the invitation into his fucking kingdom. And all of a sudden your senses go numb and your slutty ass feels... right at home.
“There you are,” he greets you with a ravenous growl in his voice that resounds over all of the noise. “Now the party’s about to start. Glad that I got you to come, sweetheart.”
The gorgeous motherfucker’s lips curve up into a smirk, as he utters that sinful little word, and it has got to be the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard.
“Don’t get too cocky, Jax,” you tease him back, as his piercing blue eyes devour your entire figure, clearly pleased to see that you’re practically naked. “Still gonna have to work at that... I haven’t come just yet.”
He snickers, lustfully biting his lip as he reaches around you to grab at your ass through your dress, rendering you a dripping mess just at the touch of his fingers. “No, but already soaking wet, I bet.”
Oh God, yes... those are the only words that come into your head, a silent gasp for air, as his big strong frame slams you up against the nearest wall and holds you there, one hand upon your ass now as the other tangles roughly in your hair.
“Darlin’, you got any clue just how bad I’ve been wanting to fuck you?” he snarls, breathing heated against your skin, making your pussy clench and your toes curl. “You know, ever since this fine ass came to town... all those times you would come around... Christ, all I’ve wanted to do... is just pin you the fuck down... and show the whole fucking world who you belong to. Claim you as my dirty girl.”
Every word from his mouth has you spiraling down into some sort of sex-drunk submissive daze. Lost in a haze, everything else around you fades... until you realize, in a split second, that you and Jax are the focus of literally everybody’s gaze. Looking over his shoulder at the whole rest of the room, you are beyond surprised to find all fucking eyes on you and him. You feel the blood drain from your face. This seems like honestly too much to take—and yet you can’t deny, something about the spectacle of all of this has got you feeling... well, some kind of way...
“Yeah, they’re all watching, babe,” Jax devilishly taunts, reading your mind, lips on your neck and hands groping your tits and God that feels fucking divine. “Like the attention? Kinky little thing, I know it turns you on. What’d’ya say we fuck in front of them and give ‘em what they want?”
It’s not as if you have a choice, when Jax Teller is talking in that motherfucking mouthwatering voice. At this point you are nothing but his filthy fucking toy.
Now that your fate has been sealed as exactly that, he’s gonna give you the most epic sex you’ve ever fucking had.
Handling you like a damn rag doll, Jax swiftly shifts off of the wall, then throws you down over a pool table conveniently nearby, with your back pressed against the surface as he stands between your open thighs and effortlessly rips your dress to shreds. Strips off your thong next, tattered lace lost in a heap down on the floor between your legs. The look on his breathtakingly beautiful face with every move he makes is just pure fucking sex.
And just like that, here in a room packed full of people most of whom you’ve never met, you are stark fucking naked, legs spread, soaking wet and loving every goddamn minute since apparently you’re seriously fucked up in the head.
Staring straight up into his blazing bright blue eyes, as he so proudly claims you as his prize, you’ve never felt so damn alive. But also dead.
“Mmm, look at that...” he hums, teasing your wet cunt with a cruel flick of his thumb. “Who fucking owns this pretty pussy, hmm? This nice tight ass you got?”
Oh, God—how is it even possible for everything he says and does to be so fucking hot...? Though you can barely speak, needy and weak, you know this bastard has demanded that you answer. So you tell him what is so painfully true. “You do, Jax. All you.”
He growls in pleasure, and you couldn’t possibly get any wetter. You’re officially the property of Jackson Fucking Teller. And he wants to hear you say it, which is just about the hottest fucking thing ever. “Tell ‘em, whore. Tell the whole room who fucking owns you. Wanna hear you tell ‘em who.”
And so you do. The words fall freely from your open mouth. You say it loud and proud. “Jax Fucking Teller owns my ass.”
The room responds with raucous shouts and cheers, resounding in your ears. You barely even notice, though, because now Jax has started stripping off his clothes—everything’s happening so fast—and as you lay eyes on his downright godlike body you are not sure just how much longer your slipping grip on sanity can last. He hasn’t even taken out his cock yet, but the moment that he does... you’re pretty sure you won’t even be conscious anymore.
So you form words, while you still can, beholding this god of a man. “Want you to show ‘em, Jax. Please. Show off how you own me. Fuck me like just what I am, your dirty little whore. Show them I’m yours.”
Jax doesn’t need to be asked twice. Next thing you know his massive cock is finally free, the fucking perfect piece of meat standing so tall and proud and hard between his strong muscular thighs, and he wastes no damn time at all giving exactly what you need. He takes a firm hold of your knees to spread your legs out even wider to receive everything that he has to give... and then he drives his cock inside you in one swift soul-crushing thrust and Jesus Christ, as every fiber of your being dies, you realize that until this moment you had never truly lived.
You barely register anything else that’s happening around you, but on some level you do. It’s even hotter knowing just how much the whole crew is enjoying this amazing fucking view.
“God, that’s so fucking hot...” Juice mutters from his front row spot, stupidly hoping no one else will notice as he scrapes your tattered thong off of the floor and stuffs it quickly in his pocket.
Tig snickers loudly from where he’s standing nearby. “You little pervert. We all saw that.”
Juice points his finger at the guy. “Pervert? Seriously? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black...”
In the meantime, none of that got past the king. Jax doesn’t miss a thing, and he’s possessive of his property, beyond belief. He promptly shoots a sharp glare at the thong thief. “Think you can try and take what’s mine? I’m gonna be needing that back.”
The look on Juice’s face, at that... you cannot help but laugh, and have a little pity. Something about this whole dynamic with the audience around you has restored a little sanity and dignity, and you’re able to string words together, even while you’re still getting completely fucked to pieces by Jax Teller.
“Aw, let him have it, Jax. Poor guy’s just picking up scraps. You’re the one who still owns my whole ass.”
Chiming in with his distinctive accent, Chibs echoes your laugh with an approving clap. “Now would ya look at that. So generous! Jackie Boy, you got yourself there one hell of a lass.”
You smile at him with a playful wink as Jax keeps pushing deeper in, his cock seemingly harder with every thrust, bigger the farther it sinks. “Fuck yeah, he does. You jealous?”
“Aye, as if you have to ask...”
Jax doesn’t like it when you spend more than two seconds with your eyes on anybody else. Although he knows no one’s an actual threat, that fact still doesn’t change how possessive he gets. He takes his hands off of your legs now to powerfully grab your head, keeping your face in place just where he wants it, your gaze fixed on him alone as he keeps fucking you dead.
You can still hear the chorus of indistinct voices:
“Fuck her up!”
“Own that slut!”
“Pound that pussy, Pres!”
And so he does, making you moan and beg him for more, spouting out filth like a two-dollar whore, as his huge monster cock brings you closer and closer to climax. “Fuck yes—Jesus Christ, holy fucking shit—destroy me with that dick—God, you’re so big—fuck, Jax...!”
It feels like you’re about to burst. Happy, for one, seems to want that to happen. He’s more into the action than the words. “Just shut her up and fuck her harder. Till it hurts.”
You didn’t think that it would be humanly possible for Jax to fuck you any harder than he has been, in these past however many fucking minutes... but apparently it is. And the mind-blowing pain that it causes is pure fucking bliss. All of a sudden he picks up the pace, hips ramming into you so hard the table seems about to break, grunting and groaning out with every move he makes and leaning down to suck the screams out of your mouth, drilling deeper into every inch of your body and drowning you in his delicious taste as he devours your face.
Fuck if that’s not a one-way ticket straight to subspace.
Although your consciousness is all but gone, you try to stay afloat now as Jax pulls back from the kiss to ask one last question. “Who owns this fucking cunt?”
You couldn’t give less of a shit just how insane you sound right now. You’re honestly just proud that you can speak English somehow. “You own this cunt! You own my whole entire ass! You fucking own me, Jax! You... fucking... unghhhh...”
The whole entire room knows what’s about to happen. And as you come undone, some part of you can hear them jeering, cheering, every one of them so damn proud and supportive of their king...
But for the most part you can only hear and see and feel one thing: Jax Fucking Teller all around you, deep inside you, splitting you right fucking open, filling you up with his white hot cum until it feels as if your whole goddamn existence served the sole purpose of leading up to this one perfect moment, to this epically earth-shattering explosion...
There is no better feeling in the world than being owned by him. You know it now, and so does everybody in this room. Damn did he show them. Just as you had asked. Jax Fucking Teller went off and did that. Showed off ow utterly and undeniably he owns your whole entire fucking ass.
You end up spending just a few more lazy minutes making out, tongues halfway down each other’s throats. “Mmmm, glad that I got you to come, Y/N,” he gloats, again, smirking in smug satisfaction now that the task is finally done.
But the night is still young. So you tell him. “Well, Teller—you should know that your dirty girl has three fuckable holes... and you’ve only fucked one.”
***************
Thank you for reading!!! Writing this was TOO MUCH FUN. Hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️
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My Little Girl-3
Pairing: dark!Tony Stark x Reader
Words: 3.7k
Warning: dub-con, smut, weird weird stuff idk how I came up with, 18+ Only
A/n: Tried to build a plot…I think
Part1 Part2
MASTERLIST
+++++
Was it only a few months ago you were complaining about walking? You remember wishing that one day you could travel on horseback or a palanquin, but you never thought it would be this way. Tony had outdone himself by getting you a carriage, one fit for a royal and you jostled inside as it made its up a winding path.
You looked at him sat across from you, reading a scroll in the dim light of the lantern that hung overhead. He unlike you was calm, his legs relaxed and spread open while you sat biting the skin around your nails in nervousness. You didn’t know where you were going, only it will be a few long days of journey. Tony had roused you in the middle of the night asking you to pack a change of dresses and your medicinal herbs. You had asked where you were off to but like always your questions were put aside with vague reassurances.
“It does not become a future queen to pinch her face like this my love” Tony commented, his brown eyes gleaming in the faint light.
“And does it become a future king to abandon his palace in the middle of the night like thieves?” You asked with a huff and Tony chuckled. He put down his papers and held out a hand to you that you took. Pulling you into his lap, he adjusted the blanket over you so that the slight breeze from the window won’t hit you.
“You talk to me like an equal already. I will have a lot of fun taming you into an obedient wife.” He murmured in your ear and you shivered. You had come to accept his familiar intimacy over the months, somehow even crave his touch when he was away. He had made your body his, while your heart was battling between emotions for a man who ran hot and cold.
His lips pressed against your neck, right over your larynx, bulging over it as you gulped deeply. His beard scratched deliciously across your flesh and your hand raised up to push back his hair that had fallen on his forehead. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying and failing to figure him out. You still didn’t know what he saw in you, only that he refused to be parted.
His hands found the hem of your skirt, collecting the heavy fabric and pushing it up. You squeaked, holding his hands as a blush overtook your features.
“My prince, not here.” You said and Tony chuckled, slanting his mouth over yours in a deep kiss, air now kissing your neither regions. You moaned and pushed against him, your delicate hands no match for his strength.
“You should know better than to deny me my princess, I take you where I want, how I want.”
He unlaced his breeches, shifting under you to pull them down to his knees and lifting you and twisting your body so your legs fell on either side of him, straddling his thighs.
“But I’m sore.” You complained even as the bulbous head of his cock slapped against your sensitive flesh, a jolt of lightening shooting down your spine. Pleasure and rational were always at war where Tony was concerned.
“I’ll be gentle. Now put me inside you.” You took his heavy tool in your hand, positioning him at your entrance and sank down slowly on him. The rocking of the carriage aided the thrusts, his whole length going deeper in this position. He let you do most of the work, his hands at your waist helping you bounce softly. His eyes were locked intensely to yours, broken only when he leaned forward to kiss you or suck a mark on your flesh.
“We’ll reach our destination in two days; you must obey my every command there.” Tony said, his breath labored as you continued moving. You looked at him in question, but he didn’t say more, one of his hands reaching between to tease your bud. You moaned alongside him, sweaty and panting. The heat of his gaze and his body drove you towards the peek and you fell with a scream, hoping against hope that the coachman couldn’t hear you over the trampling of horses. Tony groaned as you squeezed him, his hands clutching you tight to himself as he released in your body with a few last desperate thrusts.
You breathed heavily and moved to get off him, but he held you, his hand reaching into a silk pouch to bring out a small glass vial. You watched in bewilderment as Tony reached a finger inside you and scooped out the mix of your release and his cum, dropping the thick mixture into the vial. He finally let you move and went over to seal the vial with some wax.
“What are you doing?” You asked, shock coloring your voice.
“Don’t think about it. Are you cold, do you want another blanket?” Like always your queries were dismissed like the meaningless babblings of a child and you huddled in your blanket with a frown on your face at being treated as such. “Don’t make that face when we reach at our destination. You need to be on your best behavior.”
You held Tony’s hand in yours, lacing your fingers and pulling him under the blanket with you hoping your closeness will soften him up.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Now come here my princess, you need your sleep.”
+++++
You opened your eyes when you realized you were being carried somewhere. Tony’s arms lifted you with little trouble, his title as the Man made of Iron doing justice to his strength. You were just entering what seemed like an Inn, the servants crowding to bow before the prince. You sleepily lifted your head and surmised it was probably the back door and you wondered again why Tony felt the need to hide so much.
“Your Highness, it’s an honor to be graced with your presence. As your messenger requested, we have got a room at the back ready. Not one whisper of your presence shall escape any lung here.”
Tony nodded at the servant and carried you over the threshold to a room at the end. Setting you down on the bed, he left the room and you got up, still half asleep. Now that you had been living in the royal chambers for a few months, the starched sheets felt scratchy against your skin. You heard noises outside the door and crept over sneakily, trying to listen.
“– know what I am doing. I don’t care what you say.”
“Your Highness – Tony – You are my closest friend. As someone who has stayed loyal to you and will always be, you must take my advice. It’s dangerous to cross the territory.” You recognized the voice as Lord James Rhodes and frowned since you had no idea he was travelling with your party.
“I have to! I will not have her suffer. You’re the one who suspected that Steve maybe the one who –”
“Your Highness, I didn’t mean for you to take this step. Have you any idea what state the palace will be in once they learn of your disappearance? You’re to be wedded to Princess Virginia in few weeks and if word travels back that you’re out with your…with your preferred woman things will go south.”
“That is why you are here. While I manage my personal affairs, you will see to my duties back home. If all goes according to my plan, we’ll be on our way back in a few days with good news.”
There voice drifted away and you climbed back into bed before Tony came back, mulling over what you’ve heard. The Prince has taken this journey for you, to protect you from something. And somehow Lord Rogers is related to it. You shuddered as you thought of him, his leers making you feel dirty even in your thoughts.
Tony came back after a few minutes, crawling under the sheets with you.
“Are you hungry?” He asked and you shook your head no. His hands expertly rid you of your dress, throwing it on the floor before he disrobed and joined you naked, his front to your back. You make a soft noise and his hands wandered down your curves, smoothening and squeezing while his lips bit your earlobe. “Been wanting to fill you again and again my little girl.” His fingers circled your nub, your slick running down your thigh and Tony raised your leg over his thigh before entering you from behind.
You didn’t speak, his gentle love making tugging you deep in the heart as you went over what he just said outside. His rough breath blew over your face and neck, hands playing with your nipples and nub. The sounds of slapping flesh filled the room, soft moans whispered in the dark.
“Won’t be long now, you’ll be mine officially.” He mumbled and released just after you, panting heavily. You turned over to tug yourself under his arm, but he pushed away and like before got another vial where he collected your essence. You grimaced, wondering what he’ll do with this.
“Will you ever tell me what really goes on in your head?” You ask as he lay with you.
One of his hands played with your hair and tugged a little, making you look up at him. Even in the dark, his eyes were shining like made of some luminescent rock.
“My little girl, all my thoughts are about you. You’re the only thing that is ever on my mind.” He whispered.
+++++
You looked out of the window, surprised to see that there were at least a dozen other men accompanying you. The carriage rolled down, the path getting rockier as it went and you held onto your seat. Tony had chosen to ride with Lord Rhodes, probably to talk without you overhearing. This was the farthest you had ever been from the kingdom, the wilderness getting more untamed. After a few minutes, the carriage lurched to a stop as did everyone else. You pushed your head out to see what was happening.
“You must decide Your Highness, for if we cross the boundary now there is no going back.” Lord Rhodes said to Tony whose eyes flicked to you before he nodded. The procession moved onwards and after some time it seemed like nature itself had changed. The trees on either side of the path were unlike you had ever seen, bulbous shapes, some conic with almost purplish leaves. Your eyes widened, pretty sure you were dreaming.
“Enjoying the view?” Tony asked as he rode his horse alongside you.
“This – is this real? I feel like it’s a spell.” You said in awe and Tony reached out to flick your nose.
“We’re in the lands of Kamartaj my love, everything here is an illusion and reality.”
“What’s Kamartaj, I’ve never heard of it”
You should have stuck to vague sentiments because the moment you asked the question Tony rode away, his horse speeding up to the front. You sighed in defeat, resting against the back and let your thoughts wander. You focused on the different fruits that hung from the trees, the stones that seemed to almost shine. The very air seemed sweeter somehow.
You must have journeyed for an hour before finally stopping. Before you stood a castle, but not as big as the one back home. This one was built with dark stone, the terrible winds having smoothened out its edges. It looked ancient, and if you dared think, almost alive. The men dismounted and stood in waiting, until a man in red robes emerged from within.
Lord Rhodes stepped forward and bowed deep, the man in front of him mimicking his action.
“Master Wong, I thank you for granting us your presence and admittance to your land. The Prince of Stark Kingdom extends his warm regards.”
Tony stepped forward and bowed too, the other men behind him following. Wong had very short hair, he almost appeared bald and his face held lines that seemed infused in superior knowledge. He didn’t smile at your party, merely looked at them as one would at a stone on the path.
“The Sorcerer Supreme and our Medic are expecting you. Please, have the lady come forth and follow me.” Wong said. How he knew you were in the carriage you couldn’t say for he had not glanced at your way once. Tony helped you down from the carriage, fixing your skirt and hair.
“Stay close to me, and don’t interrupt them. They are short on patience and it’s mighty great to have secured an audience.”
You had so many questions about where you were, why were you here and who were you meeting. This whole place felt detached from the world you had grown up in, as if every element here resisted what was considered normal. You let Tony guide you inside the castle, your slippers rubbing against the floor. Contrary to the cold image the castle presented, it was warm inside, with fires burning in small niches and illuminating your way. It was like a labyrinth, one hall leading to another, twisting and turning until you lost all sense of direction. You glanced over your shoulder and saw that only Lord Rhodes accompanied you, rest of the men staying outside.
The chamber that the hall opened to was large and strategic windows on the wall cast in streams of light, the whole place swimming with dust motes. Before you stood two men who looked up when Wong entered with you, one a tall man in blue robes and a red cape while another who wore a simple tunic.
Tony left your side and smiled as the man in the simple garb came forward to embrace him.
“Tony my dear friend, how long it has been.” He greeted, the man in the red cape behind him snorting in disdain.
“Bruce, or should I say Medic Banner now?” Tony teased, making Bruce rib him and chortle.
“Yes yes, its all very great to have you here. What do you want Stark?” The red cape man asked and Bruce rolled his eyes.
“Stephen, he’s a friend.”
“Your friend, Master Medic, not mine. I do not tolerate egotist princes who throw a tantrum when things don’t go their way. Their view of universe is limited to their kingdom, higher truth not interesting them in the slightest.”
You could sense the animosity between The Prince and this man, and you surprisingly found yourself fearing for Tony. You made a small noise in the back of your throat that immediately made all eyes turn towards you. Bruce’s eyes widened in curiosity and he shot an almost cheeky look at Tony.
“As I would have explained Sorcerer Supreme had you allowed me to speak, this is my future princess, Lady Y/n. Come here my love.” Tony said and you joined him, your hands clutching his. “It is her that brings me here, for I fear for her health.”
Bruce, Stephen and Wong scanned you, yet you didn’t feel afraid under their looks. It was like they looked deeper than your skin, as if their gaze seemed to be passing through you into the beyond.
“The contents in the letter you sent, they referred to her?” Bruce asked and Tony nodded. You frowned, feeling blindsided. He’d been talking about you to other people? The royal physician had declared you healthy, so why were you here in the company of men far different to any.
“My lady, please have a seat.” Stephen said politely to you and you peeked up at Tony who nodded. You were confused as you settled into a chair, Stephen sitting before you. Your eyes settled on his scarred hands that were trembling slightly, yet they didn’t weaken his countenance in the slightest.
“Tony, you brought what I asked?” Bruce questioned and Tony produced the two vials of your essence. You blushed a deep red, embarrassment and shame flooding you.
“If I may My Lady?” Stephen asked, his thumb poised over your forehead.
“What?” You squeaked
“I’ll place my hand on your head, it won’t hurt. May I?”
He was polite to you, almost kind in a fatherly way when he spoke. You were glad his rivalry with Tony didn’t extend to you, for you didn’t think you could handle having someone like him as an enemy. Whoever he was, you saw no reason to fear him. The raw power he exuded soothed you instead of making you feel smaller. You nodded to him and his thumb touched your head. The world went black.
+++++
There was a commotion around you, voiced raising and shouting. You tried to open your eyes, but they stuck together. Memories ran across your mind, the first meeting with Tony, your mother hugging you, Steve touching your cheek, the myriads of lovemaking moments rushing past. You tried to move your hand but found you couldn’t control your body, the muscles seizing and paralyzing you. You heard your name as if from a far far place, the voice familiar and warm and full of love. You willed yourself to follow it, your body seemingly floating through nothing, wading through the dark to the source of warmth.
Your eyes snapped open and you were still on the chair, leaning back against the back to rest your head. Tony and Stephen were shouting at each other, Lord Rhodes pacing near Bruce who was fiddling over what looked like cauldrons simmering on fire. You blinked and got up slowly, your tongue heavy in your mouth.
“Tony?” You called out and saw him abruptly shut up and rush to your side, hands cupping your face, fingers stroking gently.
“Are you okay?” He asked, voice thick with worry and you nodded, hugging him. You didn’t understand what happened, but you wanted to leave. It felt like someone had jumped inside you, turning you inside out. You looked at Bruce who was adding your essence to one of the cauldrons and you shot an accusing look at Tony.
“Did you bring me to witches?”
Tony winced at your tone and shook his head, his gaze locking on Stephen who was full on glaring at him.
“Strange and Wong are masters of the mystic arts, a science beyond time. They are not witches.” He explained but you were not convinced.
“My Lady, we are sorcerers, we work with nature, not against it. Bruce is just a mad physician who doesn’t know his own strengths and limits.” Stephen explained to you. His eyes held a new sort of light when they fell on you, a look of pity and respect. “You are a strong woman My Lady, having been through what you did and still having a kind heart to let yourself care for a man like Stark.”
Tony scowled and you bent your neck, hiding your eyes from Stephen. He knew what Tony had done to you. Somehow, he had seen what happened, had felt what you felt. It was a humiliation you couldn’t take.
“You must not fear My Lady, for Kamartaj will do its best to help you. Once Master Medic finishes tinkering with his potion that is.”
As if waiting for him to say this, Bruce shot up from his chair and started pacing. “I can’t believe this. He was a friend to us, why would he turn on you.” He was mumbling to himself, running his hand through his grey and black hair. He looked at you and then started pacing anew.
“Bruce?” Tony asked, his hands holding yours and still not letting go
“If what you say is true, Steve is poisoning you.” Bruce declared and you gasped. “No, don’t look like that. It’s not venom, but a specific poison that affects only one specific brand in your body. In this case, the reproductive organs.”
Your mouth dropped open as you suddenly revisited what Steve had said to you a couple weeks ago. You couldn’t have Tony’s kid.
“He’s been mixing something in my food? My water?” You asked but Bruce shook his head.
“No, my lady. You are fertile and healthy. Steve has been mixing the poison in Tony’s food.”
There was silence for a minute until Lord Rhodes threw his knife at the wall in anger, the blade embedding itself even in stone.
“That traitor, he will be hung for treason!” He vowed and you found yourself nodding.
Tony however looked less than pleased with this information. For the first time since you had left the palace, he actually looked worried. It seemed he would have preferred if Steve were poisoning you.
“Tony, we need to tell His Majesty about this. To hell with him not accepting your match with Lady Y/n, this is about your life.” Lord Rhodes said. Tony raised his eyes and the hard glint in them reminded you of the power he restrained when he was with you. You were painfully reminded of the first night he took you, the darkness that was barely held at bay.
“Tell my father?” He scoffed in derision. “Steve can’t poison me himself, he’s been removed as my Lord months ago. He has help from the palace staff, and the palace staff answers to only one authority.”
The truth and bitterness of the statement settled like a stone over your heart. The Prince was being conspired against by his own father.
“How long until the poison lasts?” Tony asked Bruce as if he had not just made a terrible truth known.
“A few more weeks if the use is discontinued. The effects should burn out.”
“And my seed will carry over to her after that?”
“Yes, it should.”
Tony nodded like that solved everything. He pulled you up, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees knock against each other.
“You will bear my heir soon enough, and then I’ll gift you the head of the man who wished to separate us.”
He kissed you in full view of everyone, and you could do little but respond. You were just a shiny object that powerful men fought over, and no matter how much they loved you, desired you, you’ll end up being pulled on either side until you broke.
+++++
For those who can’t access my dark!peter x reader story from my masterlist or otherwise, try this link. Hopefully it works, because I am too lazy to post again.
PROTECTED: dark!peter x reader
#dark!tony x reader#dark!tony stark x reader#tony x reader#tony stark x reader#dark tony x reader#dark!tony#royal au#dark!steve x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader
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You Dance With Tears In Your Eyes
Summary: a college AU set up in the late 80s/early 90s with football star and quarterback Derek Morgan and his secret boyfriend Hotch-- it's not a happy story but I don't think I really have to warn you guys about that anymore
Also, a little based on a story my grandmother told me about my great uncle and his partner. Never met my great uncle but everyone says I'm a lot like him, I think they just mean gay but don't know how to say it
Warnings: homophobia, violence, racism *I mean it when I say homophobia*
Pairing: Derek Morgan/Aaron Hotchner
@yourlocalheartbreaker
The title is from Frank Ocean's song Self Control
Now and then you miss it, sounds make you cry
Some nights you dance with tears in your eyes
I came to visit, 'cause you see me like a UFO
That's like never, 'cause I made you use your self-control
And you made me lose my self-control, my self-control
---------------------
Living shouldn’t be reduced down to what it is, the bare bones of things that don’t even make Derek Morgan who he is. He lives by them anyways, stupid rules. Social norms, Aaron always clarifies because even when those silly rules drown them Aaron needs to be concise. Social norms dictate every inch of life and for once Derek wishes he were the type of person who could be given that inch and take a mile. They’re the reason he can’t hold his boyfriend’s hand in public. Why he can’t kiss Aaron on New Years’ and why he is reduced down to loving his roommate. Why, at this rate, he’ll never marry or adopt children, or why he could lose any career he goes into because some nosy asshole finds out his partner isn’t a woman. And, yes, he knows there are anti-discriminatory laws but he’s a black gay man. The world is stacked against him.
It makes him so angry. He’s blinded by the irrational of it all, why nothing can just be simple for them. Aaron tries to comfort him but Derek’s anger scares him, he doesn’t understand it. Aaron has long lost the ability to decipher the complexity of human emotions. Still flinches at loud noises like he’s expecting each bump to be accompanied by the pain that laced his childhood and has to ask, around every turn, if Derek’s angry with him. He can’t tell. Everything looks like anger. With Derek, it frequently is. They cope in very different ways, Aaron chooses nothing. Shutting down all his emotions until he cracks and that’s worse. It’s worse than Derek’s anger. That doesn’t mean Derek doesn’t hate the way he quakes with fury. If not because it feels childish to be blinded by emotions then because it scares Aaron.
There are a million other things, at twenty there always is. It’s his philosophy class with all this bullshit reading he doesn’t understand. He has to ask Aaron for help and Aaron has to ask him for help with things too but it makes Derek feel stupid. It’s philosophy, it can’t be that hard. That’s the same way Aaron feels about calculus. There’s maintaining rent and going grocery shopping and football (games, practice, gym, and training).
College had been a learning curve. Getting up at four in the morning to go to the gym for football had been the hardest thing in the world without his mother flicking his bedroom lights on and off or Desiréecoming in to smack him in the face with a pillow. There’s no one in the entire world in charge of getting him out of his bed other than him and, in his freshman year, while he had thought sleeping on that impossibly hard mattress would leave much to be desired, and it did, he found himself glued to his every morning. Not wanting to leave the safety of its flimsy comfort.
Sharing an apartment worked wonders, having a workaholic boyfriend was really the best trick. An unexpected answer to his problems but, also, a very cute one. He managed to add one person to the list of people that cared about where he was, that made sure he got up in time to make it to the gym and practice, and asked if he had a bad day or rub at his sore muscles.
Derek rolls over in bed, not as surprised as he should be to find the other half empty. “Aaron?” He still searches, runs his hand over the sheets as if he doesn’t know that if Aaron were in the bed he’d be right there. Hogging the bed and the blankets, pressed up against Derek’s back snoring like there’s no tomorrow. “Aaron?” Derek sits up and squints, grimaces at the light trailing in from the open door.
Aaron’s hunched over the beginnings of an essay, pen ink smeared across his left palm and steadily chugging along. He can write a full essay in the span of a night, five hours for about 3,000 words but if it’s a short synopsis sort of thing then about an hour. Despite this astonishing gift, Aaron still makes himself write all his essays weeks in advance and spends days upon days proofreading and combing through them for the tiniest mistakes. He’s a straight-A student so he’s doing something right but Derek gets mostly As too with far less hastily. Aaron is just extra.
Derek steps up to the desk, doesn’t make a sound as he leans up against the side of the chair. He wraps an around Aaron’s shoulders, leans down to kiss his head. “It’s two,” Derek informs him, “come to bed. Please?” Derek’s exhausted. He feels the regret of being pulled from his warm bed. Each second feels like twenty minutes, the world sluggish and too cold. He leans closer to Aaron, wrapping himself around him. “You always smell so good,” Derek whispers. He presses his face into Aaron’s hair, catching the mix of scents.
“Bakery,” Aaron grunts. His answer as simple and concise as he always is but even more so now that he’s tired. Aaron had worked an on-campus job for the entirety of their freshman year but after he got a scholarship that would roll over each year after that (so long as he kept a certain GPA) he started at a bakery down the street from their apartment. Derek had always liked the way Aaron smelled, gently masculine in a way only Aaron could ever be, and it had mixed with the scents of softly, perfectly made baked goods he works around all day. Cookies and cakes. He’s picked up a few tricks, Aaron can make moist cakes and perfectly round cookies but his bread… It’s the best food Derek has ever eaten.
The first time Aaron made bread Derek got down on one knee and confessed “Aaron Hotchner if I could marry you I’d take you to the damn chapel right now”. To which he was lovingly pushed and told to “shut up” but fresh-baked bread (even if Aaron had taken a single bite and concluded he hadn’t ratioed the sugar right) is heavenly. He’s gotten much better since and it’s really hot when he’s standing there in one of his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up taking his stress out on the dough.
And he can’t tell anyone. Can’t boast about his hot ass boyfriend or the bread he makes from scratch.
Derek crouches down by the chair, knows he’s winning when Aaron breaks from his work just enough to glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “Can’t this wait just a little bit?” he asks. “I want to sleep with my boyfriend and he’s out here writing an essay that isn’t due tomorrow and likely isn’t due for the next month.” Derek reaches up, strokes a strand of hair back behind Aaron’s ear. His fingers graze an open wound and Aaron flinches away, the pain unexpected.
The bare bones of Aaron Hotchner are the along the same in principle to Dereks-- all things that he cannot change. Even as he stands as tall as Derek, their bodies are not the same. Derek is lean from years of football, his arms stretch his shirts. He looks like an athlete, has the benefit of the doubt whenever he’s around men. His teammates walk naked in front of him, no one for even a second thinks anything of it. No one suspects him of the atrocities he commits within his apartment.
Aaron doesn’t have any of that. His hair is a little too long, hangs down in his face when he’s studying or reading. Nothing about him is hulk-ish, he’s delicate with his movements and while it had been something that Derek was immediately drawn to it also draws other’s attention. Bad attention.
The same boys that play around with Derek, snapping towels at him while he walks, terrorize Aaron.
Derek wishes there was something he could do because if this were anyone else- if Aaron were a girl- he could. It wouldn’t be dangerous, not the sort of thing that would cost him his football scholarship or get him stabbed and left to bleed out in an alley or beat within an inch of his life. He would have to out himself to protect Aaron, to stand in front of his teammates that coach keeps calling his family and tell them to keep their fucking hands off his boyfriend. No. No, because something like that would be death. It would be worse than what’s already happening. And Aaron won’t allow it.
All Derek can do now is await the next attack, leave Aaron someplace to come home to. Give him a place to be, without burden, without hesitation. It’s not enough. They’ll kill him. Derek knows they will and it’ll be fun for them, only a matter of time.
“Come to bed with me,” Derek asks one more time. He doesn’t want to sound entirely needy but he really doesn’t want to go to bed without Aaron. The bed is lonely.
With a sigh, Aaron nods and Derek stands up, moves out of the way so Aaron can throw pens in his textbooks to mark his place. He steps away, from the desks, yawning as he makes lazy lurches forward towards their bedroom. “Turn the damn--” Derek rolls his eyes and reaches over and turns off Aaron’s desk lamp.
He passes Aaron in the doorway, places his hand on his hip, and reminds him of their objective. “Bed,” he mumbles and Aaron nods, jerking back to life as he steps further into the bedroom.
Derek lays down on the bed, crawls over to his side, and gets comfortable while he watches Aaron lazily strip down to his underwear. He gets caught in his head again for a moment, standing there just blankly staring at the dresser. Trying to figure out if he should put on pajamas or not. Derek calls his name and opens his arms. “Come here, “ he says and Aaron smiles. Sheepishly he comes, blushing as he crawls into the bed and where Derek instructs him. Humming, pleased, when Derek brings the blankets up over them. His eyes are already closed, head tucked under Derek’s chin when Derek wraps his arms around him. Pulls him close, tight.
He’d read in a book about deep pressure, its effect on the parasympathetic nervous system. He’d studied Development Psychology for some time, thought about all the ways in which it checked every box of his interests. He thinks he might want to be a teacher. That’s where he learned about the importance of the bond between guardian and child. Where he learned a hug sometimes really is a fantastic answer to the most startling problems.
It’s also the fastest way to get Aaron to sleep.
“Tighter,” Aaron whispers. He can’t quite feel Derek’s bones pushing into him, the hammer of his heart still too strong. He groans, choking up a laugh when Derek does just that. Holds him tight, makes him ache with the proximity, his inability to move.
Derek doesn’t mind, he’s got an armful of bakery boy. Couldn’t be more content with anything else.
0000000000000000
All things considered, Derek didn’t actually face that much scrutiny when he told his mother about the stupid twisting and turning feeling in his stomach when Martel Harris put his hand on Derek’s back. Leaned in too close and Derek could smell the cologne he wore and feel his proximity like lightning across his skin. He’d thought it was just nerves but at the end of a football match Martel lifted him up, threw him up in the air, and God that had felt better than flying. Lit him up inside like he was something, someone.
Desiréecried and Sarah wouldn’t speak to him for a week, opposite reactions because of the same fear. Their mother always said the two of them were two halves of the same coin-- too alike to get along and too different to ever get away. They came around, their mother’s gentle hand always the voice of reason. Three stubborn as all hell kids, too much like their father. That’s what she tells the three of them, tears swelling in her eyes as she proclaims that none of it matters. Orders Desiréeto stop crying tells Sarah to get over herself. She loved and married a black man despite the death threats that followed them everywhere they went. Despite the people that called it blasphemous. Called it sin. As if love could be such a thing.
Her mother told her not to come home, not to call. She wouldn’t do that to her son, she knows it won’t change a thing. There’s something about love that makes you blind to the small pains. She never looked back twice, never reached out to her parents. She chose love and Derek will too.
But that doesn’t mean the fear goes away.
It doesn’t actually change a damn thing.
Standing in the tiny bathroom attached to Derek’s friend’s bedroom Aaron leans over the sink, letting Derek rub
shampoo through his beer-drenched hair. “I just don’t understand why they have it out for you,” Derek mumbles, his voice has deepened, his frustration laced confusion evident. They’re in a rather suggestive position, Derek’s body keeping Aaron bent over the sink-- ass to groin. Aaron shoots him a look out of the corner, a pretty clear “look at us right now and take a guess at why”. Derek ignores the look, he’s rather good at ignoring Aaron’s sharp looks. He shakes his head, grumbling some more to himself and gently working the shampoo out of Aaron’s hair. He leans closer, Aaron groaning as the sink bites into his stomach, and smells his hair. Derek groans, unsatisfied with what he finds. “Smells like strawberries with a slight undertone of beer.”
Sounds about as close to a win as they’re getting. “That’s as good as it’s going to get,” Aaron mumbles, grateful when Derek sits back up. While Aaron’s come to terms with the particular hand he’s drawn in the terms of college social lives Derek isn’t as quick to accept. He feels hopeless, a feeling he thought he’d escaped upon leaving Chicago and everything Carl Buford. Aaron can’t stand to see that look, the one he’s grown so used to seeing after events like this.
He pulls a towel down off the rack, starts trying to dry his hair. This isn’t the reason he keeps his hair short but it’s certainly a helpful addition to keep in mind. “Don’t overthink it, it’s not your fault.” Aaron could go blue in the face trying to keep Derek from coming up with a mile-long list of all the reasons why that’s simply not true. The truth is, it’s really not Derek’s fault. No one even knows about them. Their relationship isn’t the reason why Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is poured his cup of cheap, smells like piss, beer over Aaron’s head.
Not that what happened downstairs can just be so beautifully summed up as just that. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is had grabbed Aaron as he was walking in, doing as Derek instructed by coming in the screened-in door at the side of the house. “Who’s dick did you come to suck?” and Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is cupped Aaron’s cheek. Dug his thumb into the wound he created and smiled, grinned happily at the sight of Aaron trying so hard to getaway. Hunter’s grip relaxed and as soon as it did Aaron was blinking the beer out of his eyes. “Get the fuck away from me,” Hunter shoved him, hard. “Faggot.” Aaron hit his hip on the counter but said nothing, he’ll leave the bruise for Derek to find another night.
“I should say something to that pig,” Derek’s distracting himself with putting everything back in the bathroom the way it was before they came in. Straightening out the rug and fixing the other towels. “Let me catch him trying something--”
Aaron can’t take it, all of Derek’s pointless anger, his stupid guilt. He’s just had beer poured down his back. He can’t even accept Derek’s sweatshirt to replace his smelly shirt, can’t walk out of here wearing his boyfriend’s sweatshirt without getting shanked. The beer smells awful but he’s fairly certain getting stabbed is a whole lot worse. Derek doesn’t have to deal with that. No one messes with him because no one thinks to. “It’s because of how I look!” He’s shaking, bangs hanging down in his face still damp but no longer dripping water down his face. “You? You look normal. You get to walk around with all your football buddies, no one bats an eye at the quarterback, Derek. At least you like women too!” He points to himself, digs his finger into his own chest. “Me? I look the part. I can’t even pretend. Everyone knew, the whole world knew before I did!”
Derek just stands there, caught in the headlights trying to figure out what to say.
He wipes his eyes, jerks away from the hand Derek tries to put on his arm. “No. No!” he can’t do touch right now. Not like this, not when his body won’t hold still and his knees keep trying to buckle. It happens, this panicked cornered feeling, and usually Derek would hold him down. They’d sit on the floor and Derek would hold his arms down to his chest and they’d just sit like that until Aaron can breathe again. Bones against bones until Aaron feels the fractures of his humanity coming back together but for now, right now? He can’t do it. He can’t be touched.
“I want to go home,” he manages, lower lip quivering despite how much he wants to hold it together. “Please take me home.”
Derek just stares at him, stands there, and watches Aaron cross his arms over his chest and curl in, trying to squeeze the panic out himself. “Okay,” he caves. “Go on, I’ll follow you down.” It’s degrading, humiliating the fact that they can’t even leave this room together. Aaron’s upset and Derek can’t do anything about that right now. It’s not safe until they’re home.
It’s never safe.
With his hair dripping into his face Aaron stumbles in the dark. His shirt is soaking wet, stuck to his skin, and freezing him as tramples down a thin stretch of grass between houses. He wishes he had Derek’s sweatshirt. Something warm. At least something to cover his arms. It had been a stupid idea coming here right after getting off work. The bakery is so impossibly hot and after getting off his shift all he wanted was to be with Derek. To sit in whatever little room Derek could guarantee was safe and drink whatever cheap crap Derek brings him from downstairs. Just sit and listen to the music filtering in from downstairs.
“Hotchner!”
He freezes-- a deadly mistake.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
He knows what happened to Derek. In the hush of the night, laying facing each other in the dark, Derek had told him. Each word a puff of hot air against Aaron’s face, hitting the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. It was supposed to be even, Derek’s intention was to express alikeness. He’d seen the scars, no matter careful Aaron was about the light when he thought things were headed in the direction of nakedness, Derek saw them. He hadn’t said anything that time, run his thumb over the one on Aaron’s chest but kept up his ministrations. Acted as if he didn’t until that moment in bed.
Aaron still hasn’t found the courage to be honest about his own childhood.
Derek comes around the back, half-expecting tonight to go like it always does. Except Aaron hasn’t had any alcohol and he doesn’t come stumbling around the porch to greet Derek from the darkness. There are no stolen kisses or hushed laughter. No Aaron. Derek has half a mind to shout out for him, he couldn’t have gone off far, but then he sees him. Derek sees them. The moonlight shining down casting this awful hue between the houses. He sees Hunter draw his foot back and he can’t hold it back. Won’t let this go on. “Hunter!”
The second that Hunter’s attention is away from him, Aaron slumps to the ground. His blood smeared against the house. He’s still breathing, awful ragged breathes that shoot blood off his lips. He sees Derek in the moonlight, rushing past him. Aaron wishes he wasn’t a coward. Between each blood speckled breathe, he wishes that he wasn’t a coward and had just told Derek. That way he would understand Aaron can take it. He spent his childhood taking beatings for just being alive. At least now it was something coherent. Being beaten for being gay requires at least knowing something about him. His father couldn’t even bother with that.
But Derek doesn’t understand.
Aaron never told him.
He’s pulled down, out of orbit, and back to Earth when Derek squats down beside him, cradles his head in his hands. “Aaron?” he calls out, but Aaron can’t force his eyes to move from the dirt. “Can I--” Derek doesn’t know where to put his hands. If he can put his hands anywhere. “I’m going to-- to lift you, okay?” It’s not a matter of if he’s strong enough. He benches more than his own body weight and that’s significantly more than Aaron’s. He’s just not sure if Aaron’s going to fight him and if Aaron fighting him is good or bad.
“Lean forward,” Derek whispers, cupping the back of Aaron’s head and directing it into his shoulder. He turns, manipulates both their bodies and winces each time, no matter how gentle and calculated his movements are, Aaron still cries out. He still hurts him. “I’m sorry,” becomes his mantra. The only words he can manage out around the tears, the only thing he can get past the thickness in his throat.
Sorry he didn’t stop this sooner.
Sorry that he keeps hurting Aaron.
Sorry they couldn’t be other people. In other places. In another time.
Sorry that it’s all for nothing, that there’s no way this ends well for either of them. They’re going to end up dead or alone but certainly separate.
The second Derek has him in his arms Aaron grips his shirt tightly in one blood-stained hand. He rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, soaking in his warmth. “Home?” he asks, voice breaking.
“We’re going home.”
Aaron wakes up alone in bed.
He’s completely naked, laying with three blankets pulled up over him. One that he recognizes is from the living room. There’s one of Derek’s homemade sock heating pads digging into his sore ribs where he rolled over onto it, he can feel more of them underneath him. He’s been laying here for a while. None of the socks are warm anymore. He’s on Derek’s side of the bed, facing his nightstand, and watches Derek’s blurry alarm clock change time. 1:36 passing to 1:37 to 1:38 just waiting for the fuzzy fingers in his brain to ease up. To allow him to think.
It’s Saturday.
Derek’s off at a football game, not due back for hours. Not until tonight, long after Aaron’s gone to bed.
For an overwhelming moment, his eyes fill with tears, desperation, and solitude creating an awful twist in his stomach. He doesn’t want to be alone. Protectively he draws his knees up, tries to knot himself up, and create a mangled ball. His heart picks up, anxiety increasing as he lays there. He wants Derek. He doesn’t want to be alone.
On the phone’s first rings he curls in tighter, overwhelmed by his own crying that he presses his face into Derek’s pillow and ignores it. He’ll let the machine catch it-- that’s the whole reason Derek bought it. With a sharp end, muffled by the blanket he pulls up over his head, a voice comes through. The machine catching the voice mail.
“Aaron, sweetheart? This is Fran, Derek’s mom? I’m sorry to keep calling sweetie but Derek’s awake now. He’s worried, says you should have woken up by now. I can send Sarah to come get you, Derek told me what happened last night. Please call me back? I hope you’re okay.”
He lays in confused silence, trying to process why Derek’s mother would call him. She calls all the time and occasionally he answers to tell her she’s just missed Derek-- he’s off with friends, at the gym, or at class. They know of one another Derek talks about him to Fran as much as Derek talks about Fran to him. But Fran call him? That’s never happened.
Then he catches it-- “Derek’s awake now”-- and he sits up. Pushed from his mind is the pain, his ribs scream and the blood he can see he’s left on Derek’s pillow. Derek’s awake now. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is is on the football team. An offensive lineman. A guy whose entire job is to protect Derek but now he knows, he has to know.
Derek’s awake now.
He throws himself out of bed, clipping his already sore hip on the nightstand and staggering for the phone. Tears spilling over his face. What happened while he was sleeping? What did Hunter do?
Fran picks up on the first ring. “Aaron, is that you sweetheart?”
He sniffles, rubbing at his nose with his finger. “Yes, ma’am.” He knows she can hear him crying, his choked sobs as he falls in the direction of the closes chair.
“You had me worried sick,” she says and he can hear that unmistakable fondness in her chastising tone. That must be where Derek gets it from. It makes him smile, even if it’s weak. “How are you feeling, baby? Derek told me what happened. I’m sorry. If I see that boy I’ll wring his neck. Give him a piece of my mind for bothering my boys.”
He just nods, despite the fact that she can’t see that. He knows he should answer her question but he has no idea what he feels. Nothing. He feels nothing as he sits here holding his breath as he waits to ask about Derek. To know what happened because of him. “Is Derek okay? What happened?”
Hunter told a few other team members what he saw. Most brushed him off, Hunters a douchebag, and they like Derek. Others just hate Aaron enough for it to matter to them, enough to what to do something. Or, rather, not do anything. It only took one tackle, a limb bent the wrong way under the weight of three boys.
It was Derek’s knee. A career-ending injury.
A scholarship losing injury.
“Can I--” Aaron chokes. He’s afraid of what happens if Fran says no. “Can I see him?”
“Of course you can.”
Aaron turns away Fran’s offer of a car ride but Desirée still shows up.
He answers the door in a sweatshirt and jeans and knows immediately who it is when he opens it up. Desirée just stares at him for a moment, he can feel all of the seventeen-year-old judgment sizing him up. “You look… awful,” she tells him. She lets herself in, walking past Aaron with one more look. “Mom says I can drive but if you want to do it I have to let you.” She puts the car keys on the counter, sighs as she looks around. “Derek says…” she chews her lip, as she sizes him up again.
He wonders how intimidating he could possibly look to her. Hunched over and wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big for him.
“Would you teach me how to make bread?”
He can’t help but smile, nods without any hesitation.
“Really?”
Aaron nods, “it’s not that hard. More of a-- a waiting game. You have to give the yeast time to rise.”
Desirée has no idea what that means but she nods, “cool.”
He lets her drive. Mostly because his vision is swimming but because he tosses the keys back to her, a clear okay that she can drive, and she beams at him. She likes him. That’s so weirdly important to him.
She has to wake him up when they get to the hospital. The first thing she tells Fran is that he let her drive and Fran smiles at him, shakes her head, and says “you must have a death wish.”
Aaron blushes under the attention, eyes falling to the floor. He barely manages, “drives just like Derek.”
Fran laughs, nodding her head, “she does. Too heavy on the brakes.” Her smile fades a little when she sees Aaron’s sweatshirt, recognizes it from home. Knows it’s Dereks. “Will you let someone look at that,” she asks, too many of his wounds look deep. Cuts that need stitches and a nasty black eye that she knows he hasn’t iced. She’s reminded a little too quickly that Aaron and Derek are still very much kids. Tricky kids. Too old to be told what to do but still wanting direction.
Aaron nods, shying away again from the attention, but nods.
They leave him when the nurse steps in, doesn’t need to say a word. Fran sees him hesitate to lift his shirt and knows. Derek had managed to tell her most of what happened but the morphine made his speech slur, made him emotional. He’d sobbed, high and in pain. Told her what he’d seen the night before. Hunter hitting and kicking at Aaron, the way Aaron slumped forward. How he’d carried Aaron home. Washed the blood off him with a rag. She knew what was under Aaron’s shirt wasn’t something for them to see.
Derek wakes sometime in the middle of the night. The drugs from the surgery are wearing off and with it his blissful escape from the pain. Licking his dry lips he looks around the room, spotting his sisters and frowning as he tries to find his mother. She’s leaning over another cot, on the other side of the room. He watches her, hears the familiar chorus of Blackbird, and watches her stroke Aaron’s forehead, following the line of the relaxed brow.
It makes him smile, his mother used to sing Whitney Houston to him and his sisters to sleep. He told her about Aaron’s obsession with The Beatles, how of all the records the two of them own that’s the only one Aaron will play. Desiréebought the album, his mother told him a week later. She saved up to get it and was eager for her moment to speak to Aaron about it. To be able to befriend her brother’s boyfriend. That’s about the same time Fran began to hound him about bringing Aaron home, to Chicago. She wanted to meet him.
Fran kisses Aaron’s forehead, waiting another moment just to make sure Aaron’s truly asleep before she stands. “He was having a bad dream,” she tells Derek. In truth, he’d been crying in his sleep. In pain, she could tell, and restless. He’d settled with her there and it made her sad to think that maybe he’d just grown too used to sleeping beside someone else. She’d pulled his blankets closer and sang, just as she did with the other three when they were little. Even when they’re twenty, it still works like a charm.
Fran smiles, tries to soothe Derek’s nerves so he doesn’t worry about Aaron. He’s fine for now, sleeping soundlessly. She sits down on the edge of Derek’s bed, cups his cheek, and asks “how are you feeling?”
Derek just looks over to Aaron, his pale parted lips parted and the bandages holding him together. “Is he okay?” He’d been so scared last night watching Aaron sleep. No amount of Tylenol was doing a thing for his pain. Several times he’d sat up in the night and searched for a pulse, counted the far too many seconds separating each of his breathes. Derek thought Aaron might die right there beside him but he’d been more afraid of what might have happened if they went to the hospital.
Fran sighs, stupid love. It’s cute, she has to admit, but so senseless. “He’s sleeping, he’s okay.” She tries to redirect him, “how do you feel?”
Derek looks back over to Aaron. He looks. There’s more than just those pale lips and the bandages. It’s Aaron. He’s sleeping under multiples blankets and looks like himself. How he always looks when Derek rolls over to face him. He believes his mother, she never lies. “My leg hurts,” he whispers, voice cracking. It’s like the entire thing is pulsing, a continuous stabbing feeling. He cries but not from the pain. They betrayed him. The people he so stupidly thought of as his friends. They hurt him like they’d been hurting Aaron.
He should have known better.
He shouldn’t have been so stupid.
This is his fault.
“Derek?” Aaron sits up, hesitating under the combined attention of Derek and Fran.
Fran stands up, nods Aaron over. “Sit with him,” she offers. “I’ll go get a nurse.”
Aaron nods, still waiting, still hesitating to be where he wants to be. Derek motions him closer, manages to move his body over in the bed. Just enough room for Aaron to squeeze in beside him.
“I don’t think I”m supposed to--”
“Lay down.” Derek can see all the bruises and cuts up close again. He brushes his fingers through the hair above Aaron’s ear, turning his palm to his cheek. Gently tracing the outline of a bandage. “Runaway with me,” he whispers. He thought about it all night long while he watched Aaron sleep. “There’s only four more weeks left of the semester.” Aaron’s smart, he’ll get in anywhere he applies. “We’ll transfer someplace else, anywhere else.”
Aaron frowns, he doesn’t like the idea of this impulsivity. Mostly the number of uncertainties that it creates and the questions. Where will they go? How will they know it’s safe? Are they dropping out? Where will they transfer to? What Aaron can’t get into the college that Derek does?
“Hey,” Derek hushes, he strokes his thumb across Aaron’s cheekbone. “Hey, whatever you’re thinking stop. I’m not leaving, not going anywhere you don’t. We do this together, alright?” He smiles, leans forward, and softly knocks their foreheads together. “Four weeks and all of summer break, okay? That’s plenty of time for a smarty pants like you to figure out where we can go.” It had taken less time for Aaron to conclude Illinois was close enough to home for him to go if something happened to his mother but too far away for her or his brother to come to him.
They’ll figure it out.
“Runaway with me?” he asks one more time.
“Okay.”
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As the clock strikes midnight, part 3/3
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / epilogue
♥️ Taeyang x reader (nonbinary, female anatomy) x Jaeyoon; mentions of other SF9 members
♥️ NSFW (~4.2k words); threesome smut. Light BDSM, voyeurism, safe sex. No one is 100% straight.
♥️ You’re a beast at work, having to be tough to climb up the corporate ladder, but what you never thought of is that your attitude might be intimidating to your long time crush. Luckily, your much more laid back friend is here to help... both of you. Please read part 1 and 2 before this!
♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.
You were in the process of taking off your satin top (the shorts and the nightgown were absentmindedly discarded back in the kitchen and you could swear you were almost embarrassed at how eager you were) when you noticed with the corner of your eye that Taeyang, instead of taking place on the bed like you established earlier, approached Jaeyoon.
"Before we start, I just… wanted to say thank you," he said softly, putting his hand on Jaeyoon's exposed bicep. "You were always rooting for Y/n and I, and if not for you, I'd probably never confess."
Jaeyoon chuckled, pulling the boy into a tight embrace. Despite the heartwarming nature of this scene, you couldn't help but feel arousal rush through your body: the sight was dreamy to say the least, considering they were both almost naked, if not for Jaeyoon's boxer briefs and Taeyang's light grey slacks.
"I know, I'm the best wingman ever," the older of your friends concluded, "Everything for my best friends," he added with a devilish smirk, looking straight at you.
That gave you an equally devilish idea to kickstart this whole scene.
"You sure do love Taeyang a lot, don't you?" You asked, now standing there in black lace boxer shorts only.
"Of course I do! He's my favorite dongsaeng!" Jaeyoon confirmed enthusiastically.
You hadn't missed the way the boy in question eyed you hungrily, his plush lips slightly parted at the sight.
"Why don't you show me how much you like him, then?"
They both glanced at you with unreadable expressions. Then, they turned to look into each other's eyes.
Both you and Jaeyoon, already set on the idea, were eagerly waiting for Taeyang's permission. Obviously, you wouldn't mind if he objected, since you were about to have fun anyway…
First, he slowly moved his hands away from Jaeyoon; he spread his arms and put them up in a surrendering gesture. Then, he looked at his friend through his long lashes, mirroring his smirk.
He nodded, and as if on a cue, Jaeyoon surged forward to press his lips against Taeyang's. Circling Taeyang's waist with his arms, Jaeyoon started pushing the guy towards the bed, not breaking the passionate kiss even for a second.
You were sure you couldn't get any wetter, and you were all just starting; you never even dreamed of witnessing two most attractive men you've ever known playing like this in front of you - and on your order, on top of that - but here you were. Taeyang's needy little grunts only made the experience better.
Just as they reached the edge of the bed, Jaeyoon broke the kiss to give Taeyang a hard slap on the bottom; the choked moan the boy let out being like music to your ears. To finish this private show, Jaeyoon shoved the boy onto the mattress and, to make the best of his temporary distraction, he slid Taeyang's slacks down in one harsh motion, revealing a half-hard bulge trapped in bright red briefs.
The blush on Taeyang's face was almost the same colour, spreading through his long neck.
"Very well!", you laughed with utter satisfaction.
Taeyang used this moment to free himself of the pulled down pants completely, not breaking eye contact with Jaeyoon.
"Sit up, hands behind your back." Jaeyoon commanded; you've never heard him use such a harsh tone before, but you figured he just stepped into his Dom self. "No touching. Behave for us."
Taeyang obediently did as he was told. It wasn't easy for you to not stare at his lean body.
Meanwhile, Jaeyoon sat back in an armchair placed in front of the bed. You walked across the room to straddle his lap, facing him. An exchange of amused smiles followed.
You threw a side glance towards Taeyang, who was now sitting propped on his arms, legs slightly spread, hungry expression on his face again. You were always proud of your backside; no wonder he couldn't look away despite the deep blush on his cheeks.
"Why don't you tell me everything about your crush on me while Jaeyoon and I get busy?" you asked playfully.
Taeyang exhaled deeply.
"Okay."
Jaeyoon must have developed some kind of mind connection with you after all these years, because his next question made you snort.
"Aren't you happy I dragged you through all those back and leg days in the gym?"
He accentuated his words by sliding his hands through your sides, only to rest them on your waist. You shivered, not having been touched like this for a long time.
"My ass has always been better than yours," you retorted, combing your fingers through his hair. You felt so excited you almost wanted to kiss him, but you instantly became aware of Taeyang's presence in the room; so instead, you leaned forward to press your lips onto Jaeyoon's neck. This way, you gave Taeyang an even better view of your butt.
Jaeyoon sighed quietly. You pulled on his hair to push his head to the side; with easier access, you started leaving lingering, wet kisses along his neck and shoulder, making sure your ass was on display all that time.
You heard Taeyang gulp.
"I… can't say it was love at first sight. It started when we were both put in Customer Service and you cut your hair short… You refused to work at phone support, they complied and I thought it was impressive."
As you continued to work on Jaeyoon's shoulders, encouraged by his laboured breathing, his hands slid through your waist, lingering over your bottom for a couple seconds, to stop on the back of your thighs.
"It's embarrassing, but I happened to walk by the conference room during that meeting, and I heard everything."
"Bullshit," Jaeyoon laughed under his breath, squeezing your thighs in his hands, "You checked Y/n's calendar earlier and stood under that door like a lovesick idiot, looking around all that time."
You froze for a moment. Taeyang made a strangled, frustrated sound.
"Okay, yes! That's what actually happened," he admitted. "You had them in your grasp the moment you walked into that room. They basically made a whole new position for you. I've never heard you speak with that tone before, it… it almost made me hard."
You were still stunned, knowing your first display of charisma in the company resulted in so much more than a comfortable job you enjoyed. Feeling your knees going weak, you sank down to sit on Jaeyoon's lap, pressing yourself against his thigh.
Oh, shit. You were so wet.
Jaeyoon chuckled when he noticed the wetness smearing on his skin, and gave you a light smack on the side of your leg that served more like a reminder to stay present rather than a proper slap.
His hands traveled up your body, slowly approaching your chest area.
"So you were climbing the ladder at the Compliance Department, while I kept taking calls, and this difference turned me on even more, since you still somehow considered me a friend…" Taeyang continued, clearly having more and more trouble speaking. "You started taking your job so seriously… You were praised for your work ethic… And you'd always say dating would only distract you from your career."
Jaeyoon pulled you closer. He carefully cupped your breasts and, after he leaned down a bit, took one of your nipples in his mouth.
You gasped, taken by surprise as he sucked on it slowly.
Taeyang let out a choked sob. You couldn't see him, but you could only imagine how frustrated he must have been at this point; that, combined with the physical sensation, made you grind down on Jaeyoon's thigh. That wasn't enough, so you moved even closer until your core hovered over Jaeyoon's still clothed, rock hard bulge. Now, that was the kind of warmth you were seeking.
You exchanged a quick glance with Jaeyoon, just to make sure he was fine with this as well. He gave you a reassuring smile.
The sound of the sheets rustling distracted you from responding.
"Don't you even think about it." Jaeyoon growled in Taeyang's direction.
Taeyang whimpered once again, clearly on the edge.
"I wanna take care of him," you whispered into Jaeyoon's ear, circling your arms around his neck, "Let's end this part real quick."
Your friend murmured an understanding mhmm and propped his chin on the crook of your shoulder. You figured he was staring straight at Taeyang now. Oh, how you couldn't wait to do that too.
"You're awfully quiet for someone so desperate."
Jaeyoon caressed your back once again, finally letting his hands land on your ass.
"Why don't you finish your little story? I'm sure Y/n would love to hear more of your pathetic whines."
With that, he squeezed handfuls of your flesh, spreading your cheeks. You were sure Taeyang could see your juices glistening on the black lace of your underwear in the dimmed lights.
You kept still, breathing heavily. The need to squirm under Jaeyoon's firm touch was clouding your mind, but you didn't want to leave Taeyang without the visual of your briefs and inner thighs all soaking wet.
"Most coworkers think we have a secret relationship anyway…" Taeyang struggled to keep it up. "And I wish it was true. I promise I will never try to interfere with your career… and I will do my best to get a higher position so you won't ever be ashamed of dating me…"
Jaeyoon slid his tongue along your neck, stopping right below your ear to suck on the skin there lightly. It was soft, without using teeth, and you appreciated the tender gesture.
"Now, just… Please… Please touch me, I beg you," Taeyang's voice was breaking. "I can't take it anymore. Please wreck me."
That was enough, you were close to snapping as well.
You gently pushed Jaeyoon away and did a subtle nod in Taeyang's direction.
“You’re so worked up,” Jaeyoon whispered, giving you yet another encouraging pat on the thigh, “Be careful, don’t hurt yourself.”
You gave him a confused stare, but upon closer look, you noticed you weren’t just shivering anymore - your hands were shaking, your head was spinning, and you could barely support yourself on wobbly legs.
You carefully exhaled and stepped out of Jaeyoon’s lap, turning to face Taeyang.
The boy stared at you with glassy eyes, hands gripping the sheets behind him, legs spread, a clear outline of his cock on his briefs on display. He was just as wrecked as you expected, yet you intended to wreck him even more.
As you walked towards the bed, you swiftly pushed down your underwear and got rid of it on your way. You stood in your full naked glory in between Taeyang's thighs, and to be honest, you never felt more confident in your entire life.
You tangled your fingers into his hair, marvelling at how soft it felt. Then, once you reached the back of his head, you pulled it harshly so that Taeyang could look up at you fully.
Hearing his surprised gasp gave your Dom side an enormous boost.
"I can't believe you kept it in for so long." You said in a firm tone, slowly leaning towards his face, "I couldn't possibly let you have your way after such disappointment. It's gonna be all about me tonight."
It took a couple seconds of intense staring into each other's eyes before Taeyang collected his thoughts enough to speak.
"Please… Use me however you want it."
He batted his eyelashes in a sultry way.
"I'm all yours."
Now that you had his full permission, you closed the distance between you two with a tender kiss. Knowing your strict self turned him on, you didn't want to break the character, so you hoped this would be enough to convey your feelings.
The kiss got deeper, but never lost its loving undertone. You untangled your fingers from Taeyang's hair and cradled his face with one hand instead, while moving the other across his neck and chest. That's when you pushed on his torso, giving him a cue to lie down.
He whined when he had to detach from your lips, but complied without any further protest. At last, you could straddle his thighs. You kept your core mere millimeters away from his crotch that definitely needed attention.
"I'm not gonna keep you like this for long, I've had enough waiting," you warned, lightly roaming your fingers through his ribs and stomach. Delicate muscles of his abdomen quivered under your ministrations.
"It's fine either way," he replied under his breath, "I can last long."
"We'll see about that."
To make a point, you slid up to press on his length. The boy moaned loudly; his delightful sounds, as well as the friction, encouraged you to repeat the motion a few more times. Taeyang was doing better than you expected, that's for sure. He just focused on steady breathing, still gripping the sheets under him, while you felt way too close to your own climax just grinding down against him.
You really had a treasure in your hands.
Deciding you're done playing, you stopped to take a look at your workings. You traced the outline of his cock with your thumb. It wasn't too thick, which was actually perfect for you, but long enough to make you a bit concerned.
You pressed on the head, feeling out the slit. A wet spot appeared on the red fabric. Taeyang let out a strangled moan; it was pointless to keep him struggling like that, regardless of his promises.
You stepped down on the floor to help Taeyang slide off his underwear. He hissed when his cock finally sprung out of the restraints. You swallowed thickly, feeling your mouth water at the sight; you couldn't wait to play with it more some other time - definitely not now, when you were ready to cum from the visual alone.
Hopping back onto his lap again, you grabbed a condom you conveniently left by the pillow before you started.
"Do you want me to do it for you?" You asked, not wanting to overstimulate the poor boy even further.
"Yes, please," he begged.
Despite your trembling and being terribly out of practice, you tried your best to put the condom on smoothly. Once it was in place, you reached to pet Taeyang's hair and cheek again. His face relaxed a bit; he even looked at you with hooded eyes.
"Good boy." You smiled at him. "You can touch me now. I'll need your help, I've never taken such a big boy before."
Taeyang didn't need to be told twice. He used his left hand to hold the base of his cock for you. You lined your entrance with his length, feeling out of breath already, the pent up desire becoming too much to handle; you whined at the momentary discomfort when trying to sink onto Taeyang's cock, but his thumb was on your clit as soon as he heard it, gently smearing your juices on it in little circles. The touch alone put you on fire. It still wasn't enough - however, before you thought of backing off, Taeyang carefully spread your labia with his long fingers. This made things much easier for you and, after a series of small back-and-forth movements, you took in his entire length.
You circled your hips experimentally, trying to get accustomed to the stretch - you definitely underestimated his thickness before - but once you leaned forward and felt pressure right on your sweet spot, your mind went totally blank. You didn't mean to be selfish, but it felt so overwhelming you just started grinding with Taeyang's cock fully inside you, instead of riding him properly. He didn't complain, though. He kept massaging your clit in that careful, barely-there way that only helped you focus on the delightful stretch rather than distract you, while his other hand was caressing your body wherever he could reach. You could hear his gasps too, but it was all muffled when you were so struck on chasing your orgasm.
It hit you out of blue, embarrassingly fast, making you cry out both out of surprise and pleasure; it caught you off guard so much you almost regretted not taking your time.
The good side of it was that you could still ride Taeyang towards his climax without overstimulating yourself. You stopped moving for a moment only to grasp his wrists and move his hands onto your waist.
"Sit up." You ordered, willing yourself into composure.
He did as you told, anticipation burning in his eyes. You cradled his cheeks, facing him up close.
"You did so well," you praised him, following with a deep kiss. That's when you noticed he was out of breath, just as wrecked as you wanted him to be; so ruined that when you pushed your tongue into his mouth, he sighed needily, letting his saliva drip down his chin.
Oh, he was such a good boy.
"Are you okay? Nothing hurts?" he whispered into the kiss. You tried to not melt because of his genuine concern, as you still had a lot planned out.
"Don't you worry, baby. Everything's perfect."
To prove your point, you raised your hips so only the tip was still inside you. Much to your relief, nothing hurt indeed. You were already set on coming for the second time, just to follow your somewhat underwhelming, sudden orgasm with something much better - both for your and Taeyang's pleasure.
You smoothly sank in again, then again, until you set a steady pace. You thoroughly enjoyed all the sounds Taeyang was unashamedly making, as well as his blissed out expressions, but the way he tried to make you go faster by holding onto your waist was something you would not accept.
You stilled mid-thrust, earning a truly heartbreaking stare from Taeyang.
"Hands off," you commanded, "Keep them behind you, on the sheets."
You were sure you were driving him crazy at this point and you weren't even done yet, so to give him some momentary gratification, you set a fast pace, propping yourself on his shoulders. Getting so much control over the boy, as well as his desperate cries, were giving you enough energy to keep going like this for a while.
You were amazed at the fact he didn't come yet, despite being fully hard all that time, and you knew you couldn't draw it out for much longer as you felt another orgasm approaching. Unable to hold it anymore, you decided to help yourself with your own hand.
Soon, you came again, clenching hard on Taeyang's length; the magnitude of this climax almost knocked you out.
"Please, please…" Taeyang whimpered, tears strolling down his face, "Just a little more…"
You rode the afterglow out, already feeling Taeyang twitch, but you knew you couldn't go like this for long without the sensation becoming painful. You stilled, keeping him in all the way, squeezing around him in a set rhythm.
You pulled harshly on his hair.
"What a needy slut you are."
He barely managed to react to your words when you slapped his face.
His eyes rolled back and, with a drawn out moan, he thrusted upwards into you, spilling his cum into the condom.
You felt like it took him forever to finish, however, you didn't mind it at all when you were able to observe him so out of it, staring blankly through barely open eyelids, breathing in sharp little gasps - and all of that when his hips were still so flush with yours. The warmth and throbbing you felt inside despite the synthetic barrier soothed you after all the rough treatment.
Once Taeyang was done, he cautiously laid back onto the mattress. He pulled you into an embrace, helping you slide off his cock as gently as possible.
Just as you nestled yourself comfortably on his chest, you got startled by a grunt to your right. You looked into that direction, with Taeyang following you immediately - Jaeyoon was leaning against the wall, his hand wrapped around his cock, streaks of cum already dripping out of his fist.
"I'm good! I'm good," he reassured, raising his head, a slightly twisted smirk on his face. He reached for a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his hand clean.
You hated to admit it, but you kind of forgot he was there. Suddenly, the situation became a bit awkward - Jaeyoon didn't seem to be phased, though.
"That was amazing," he huffed, voice still exasperated, "But I'd love to catch some sleep tonight."
You didn't want to be rude, but you really weren't that keen on asking him to crash at your place when you'd rather spend the rest of the night with Taeyang in your arms without any intruders.
"I'll clean up and be on my way. No one will be surprised if you two show up together in the morning, but my folks at HR will ask me some uncomfortable questions if I come with you instead of my usual time."
When your friend approached, he surprised you with a quick smooch to your cheek, then did the same to Taeyang - none of you opposed, too tired to react.
"Have fun, lovebirds!" Jaeyoon said, leaving the room. "Don't forget to lock the door later."
"That guy…" you laughed quietly. You sat up to check up on Taeyang.
Your heart wrenched at the sight beneath you: the boy just laid there with a hand loosely tangled in his hair, his cheeks shining with tears, eyelids swollen from crying and, most likely, sleepiness.
"You need a shower, baby. " You caressed the side of his face.
"Gimme a break…" Taeyang groaned, covering his eyes.
"I'll shower with you."
He was up in a second.
Half an hour later, clean and fresh after washing up, you went back to bed. The night was warm even with the windows open, so you just laid there next to each other, holding hands, not even bothering to put on any clothes.
"That's an unusual way to start a relationship," you snorted, squeezing Taeyang's hand tighter. He seemed like a hand holding 24/7 type of a person, fingers intertwined, all that jazz. You loved it.
"How else would we do it?" Taeyang asked, his tone dry. "Should I take you on a date? Come to your place? Watch Netflix together until we fall asleep? We've done all of that already."
Your eyes went wide at the realization. Damn, he was right. You've had coffee and lunch dates countless times, you just never called them dates. He's been a regular guest in your apartment, and vice versa. That one time you fell asleep huddled on the couch while watching a movie was lowkey embarrassing, though - Jaeyoon was supposed to pick you two up for dinner and a movie night at the cinema, but arrived two hours late because of a family emergency. He woke you up by banging on the door; you were relieved Taeyang slept hard enough to not notice he draped his arms around you and drifted away with his nose in the crook of your neck.
"We're sex freaks. I wouldn't have imagined a better way."
His statement made you blush despite everything you had done before.
"Is there anything I could do for you as a birthday present?" He asked after a longer pause, turning his head to look into your eyes. "Something you've always wanted to do."
"I… I always…" you started, immediately catching his drift, "I always wanted to peg a pretty boy."
You smiled at the mere possibility of your wish being granted.
Taeyang chuckled, amused.
"Sure. Do you have everything we need?"
You couldn't help but laugh out loud, pulling him into a hug. He easily complied, tangling his limbs with yours in a tight embrace.
"I do, I do!" you giggled, all giddy. "Just give me a moment, okay? I'll get the stuff in a minute."
A passionate kiss followed. You just wanted to enjoy the sensation: now that you had him all for yourself, without the desperation of your first time together, you intended to fully melt into his touch. Taeyang seemed to love it just as much, his body eagerly replying to your caresses; he wasn't shy with being vocal either, his moans and gasps matching yours.
Soon, the kisses and touches turned rough, and once you felt his length all hot and hard on your thigh, you couldn't bother to even think of your earlier intentions. You grabbed a packet of condoms from the nightstand, tossed it to Taeyang (he almost missed it, caught off guard) and shamelessly spread your legs.
Taeyang didn't get to grant your birthday wish that night. Instead, you had two more rounds - last one with both of you so exhausted, yet still so turned on, you fell asleep right after you came. Completely vanilla, but that was all fine. You've had all the time in the world to enjoy each other and explore all of your deepest, darkest fantasies… Well, maybe except the rest of that particular night, since you had about four hours of sleep left before having to wake up to get ready for work.
Bless the company management for organizing a monthly get-together on freaking Wednesday.
#sf9 smut#sf9 scenario#sf9 imagine#yoo taeyang imagine#yoo taeyang scenario#yoo taeyang x reader#sf9 thirst#As the clock strikes midnight
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Pre-mating bond reveal Feysand Smut request! Featuring feyre in some lingerie and a whipped Rhys ps. I love your fics
On the long, never-ending list of things I need to be doing right now, this is definitely at the bottom.
I need to find out what Azriel learned from his spies in the human realm, make sure Amren and Cassian haven’t gone to wreck the Summer Court, and pay my taxes.
Watching Feyre shop for lingerie is below the fucking taxes. It’s below everything.
And yet here I am, staring with too much interest as she runs her finger along lacy unmentionable after lacy unmentionable.
I’m mesmerized, desperate to know which one she’ll choose to buy. The simple knowledge that she has it will torture me, but I don’t even care. I have to know.
Five minutes go by, then ten.
I follow her like the whipped little bitch I am as she circles the store once more, making sure my face doesn’t betray my interest in the teal little thing in the corner.
“You know what, I don’t think I’ll get anything,” she announces suddenly, turning to me to analyze me with those beautiful, too-observant blue eyes of hers.
“Alright.”
“I mean, do men--sorry, males--even care about this kind of thing? Or do they just prefer their women to be naked?” She peers up at me, lips curved into an innocent smile. “Which do you prefer?”
“Last I checked, I don’t have any women.”
She shrugs like that’s irrelevant. “You’re buying it. You should have an opinion.”
Before I can even start to respond, she’s closing in on me, putting a hand against my chest and leaning in co-conspiratorially. “Hypothetically, if you were to come home to find me draped across your bed, what would you prefer I be wearing?”
She grabs something off one of the racks, and the feel of lace on my arm makes blood shoot straight to my crotch. “Something like this? Or nothing at all?”
My jaw aches from being clenched so hard, and there’s absolutely no way I can respond, so I just shrug.
Feyre smiles knowingly and flits across the store, snatching up the piece I’d been subtly--at least I thought--eyeing the entire time.
She drops it on the counter and gestures over her shoulder to me. “I’ll take this. He’s paying.”
I roll my eyes but nod when the clerk looks at me, and she makes a valiant attempt at hiding a smile. Once the damned thing is wrapped up, Feyre slips the bag on her arm and gives me a bright smile.
“I’m going home.”
My chest clenches at that word, just like it always does, but I ignore it. “I’ll walk you.”
“No, thanks. I’ve got what I wanted from you,” she teases, shaking the bag in my face. “But who knows? Maybe in... two or three hours when you come home, I’ll be waiting for you.”
Fucking hell, she’s going to kill me.
But the question is... is she just teasing me, or is she serious?
~
Exactly two and a half hours later, I find out.
She was fucking serious.
She’s...
Ah, fuck.
Fuck.
I’m frozen in the door, staring at her, and I can’t think about anything besides how right this feels.
Coming home to find her in my bed, wearing some wonderfully indecent negligible, looking at me with so much blatant lust it almost chokes me.
It’s so fucking right.
But it’s also wrong, because she doesn’t even know why it’s right.
Because I still, still, haven’t told her that she’s mated to me.
Because I’m stupid.
Stupid or not, I realize I’ve been standing here like some mute idiot for a little too long. “Hello, Feyre darling.”
She smiles at me, a warm smile that makes my chest ache, and I grip the doorframe to keep myself from striding to her and tasting it.
If she knew, she wouldn’t smile like that. She’d probably scream at me and rage and curse the gods for giving her someone like me.
And I don’t want to tell her, because I’m selfish and love the look on her face. Right now... right now she’s looking at me like I’m everything.
With a dramatic flourish that makes my lips twitch, she throws the cover off of herself, allowing me an unobstructed view of the overpriced contraption I bought earlier tonight.
It’d stood out to me because of the color. The bright turquoise is almost the exact shade of her eyes, and it’s beautiful against the pale backdrop of her skin.
The color, however, is not what my mind is focused on.
It’s focused on the way the lace frames the smooth swell of her hips, the way its not exactly solid enough to hide the rosy color of her nipples, the way the thin, feeble straps are slipping off her shoulders.
No longer able to stop myself, I stroll over and brace my hands against the edge of the bed.
I take another long look, starting at her pretty red toenails and ending at the challenging look in her eyes.
“Hi, Rhysand.” She says my name slowly, like a woman who knows she has a man in the palm of her hand. “So? Do you like it? Or would you prefer me in nothing at all?”
“You’ll have to give me a comparison,” I respond, forcing my eyes away from the swell of her breasts for a moment. “But maybe later. Right now, I’m interested in this little get up. It did cost me quite a bit of money, you know.”
Reaching out, I grab her ankles and slide them around until her body’s facing me.
“I’m afraid I can’t see all of it, though.”
She understands and smoothly turn over, putting the rest of the little set on wide display.
And by the rest of it, I mean the tiny slip of blue lace resting above the curve of her backside.
She’s temptation incarnate, a woman designed by the gods to drive me happily to insanity.
“Hm,” I murmur nonchalantly, running my finger along the material softly but not touching the skin I’m suddenly desperate to bite.
She shivers, and the fact that I’m affecting her but barely even touching her does little harm for my ego.
Reminding myself yet again that I should walk out of this room and lock the door behind me, I put a hard boundary in place.
I can’t fuck her.
Not yet. Not while she doesn’t know who I really am to her.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t satisfy the insane curiosity that’s been demanding for weeks I find out how she tastes.
“Turn over again.” She complies, and I lean to press a kiss to the top of her ankle. “Now spread those pretty legs for me, Feyre darling.”
Slowly, her feet slide apart on the sheet, and I trace the movement to look at the apex of her thighs. My hands glide up her skin, and she sighs, the sound so goddamn pretty I have to take a deep breath to calm myself.
I press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, and her hand shoots out to grab my hair and force my eyes back to hers. “I want-”
I know what she’s going to say, so I cut her off. “And while I’d love to give you anything and everything you want, we don’t have time.”
“We have all night.”
“Mm, true.” Another kiss, but this time I dart my tongue out to taste her skin. Holy fuck, she’s perfect. “But when I fuck you, Feyre, I’ll need longer than one night. I’ll need days, maybe even weeks. I’ll need you to be so strung out on me you can’t breathe, so desperate you beg. And we’ll definitely need to be out of the city, because I plan on making you scream my name loud enough to wake the dead.”
It isn’t the whole truth, but not one word was a lie.
It seems to do the trick because Feyre settles back, raises an eyebrow, and says, “Proceed, then.”
She’s trying to play it like she’s so unaffected, despite the fact I can smell her arousal and see the way she’s clenching the bedsheet.
I slid to my knees, bowing before my mate, and pull her ankles until her legs rest over my shoulders. I realize my wings are out, yet another testament to how different this is, how unhinged I’m becoming.
For a moment, I just familiarize myself with the feel of her skin, so unbelievably soft and warm against my palms. She lets me touch her, leaning up on her elbows to watch.
Making eye contact with her, I lean down and press my nose to the apex of her thighs. And inhale.
Even though it’s been teasing me for the past five minutes, the full scent of her hits me like a punch to the gut, and a low, satisfied sound escapes my throat.
She blushes, color blooming high on her cheeks, and I smile up at her.
Mumbling something I’m too distracted to hear, she falls back on the bed and puts a hand over her face.
Is she... praying?
Gods, I’m going to enjoy this. I’m going to drive her crazy, make her feel as undone as I do.
As soon as I can figure out how to get this fucking contraption off her.
Lace and little straps are everywhere, and I mess with it for a minute before giving up and just ripping the bottom half off.
“Rhysand,” she scolds, like I wasn’t the one to buy the damn thing.
I’d reply, say something witty, but now she’s bare before me, and the sight of her thighs spread for me, the obvious sign of her arousal... it undoes me.
My mouth is on her before I can think about it, tongue tasting her and immediately dipping inside for more because holy hell.
She tastes better than anything I’ve ever had. Better than cool water on the hottest day, fresh sweets, ripe fruit, whatever.
A low groan meets my ears, igniting a fire in my blood, but I keep my pace slow, not wanting this to ever end.
Her hips start shifting, desperate for more friction, but I hold them still and keep her exactly where I want her. I run my tongue around her clit, then suck on it gently, and her thighs tighten around my head.
“Rhys.”
The name I’ve heard for five hundred years has never sounded better, and as soon as we’re done here, I’m making it a law that no one but her can say it.
I kiss her slowly, keep going until she’s panting and cursing and saying my name over and over and over.
She comes on my tongue, attempting to strangle me with her lovely thighs, but I don’t stop. I honestly don’t think I can.
I taste her until I’m drunk on it, breathe her in until she’s all I can smell, fill my hands with her soft skin.
I can tell she’s getting close again, so right as release hits her, I slip two fingers inside her and shift my mouth to her inner thigh, sucking on the skin until it’s sure to leave a mark.
I’m trying not to be too possessive, but the thought of her walking around with a little reminder of whose mouth was on her drives me a little crazy. I push my fingers into her again, kissing the other thigh.
Gods, the feel of her around me... her smell surrounding me... it’s almost too much.
She seems to agree.
“Rhys,” she pants, half sobbing. She’s limp on the bed, legs trembling as I kiss them. “It’s too much. You’re too much. I can’t-”
Dropping a kiss to her hip bone, I crawl up her body, bracing myself on my free hand.
The other keeps moving as I lean down to brush my lips across her ear. “You can, and you will. I’ve wanted you for weeks, Feyre darling, and I’m not about to stop at two measly little orgasms.”
I push my fingers into her a little harder for emphasis, and she arches up into me, pressing her breasts against my chest. “I think you’re trying to kill me.”
“I would never let anything happen to you,” I tell her, meaning the words. Hell, I’d mean them even if she wasn’t my mate.
Her head falls back as she gives in to the pleasure we both know she wants, and I drop a kiss the arch of her neck as a reward.
She hums, a happy little mmm sound that makes me grin.
Her hips lift and circle as she rides my hand, and as she breathes my name again in that husky little tone, I can’t hold out anymore.
I kiss her, exactly how I’ve wanted to since the moment I first saw her.
Her head tilts, lips opening for me, and it sends a bolt of pure fucking joy through me at how natural it is.
An entirely different emotion shoots through my veins as she sucks on my tongue. I know she can taste herself, and the thought makes my cock throb. I’m lying further down then she is, so I press my hips into the mattress to relieve some tension.
Not that it helps when I know exactly how she feels around my fingers and how much better she’d feel around a different part of me.
I nip her lip for being so annoyingly perfect, and she wraps her arms around my neck, using her hands in my hair to pull me closer.
She’s kissing me back, kissing me as if she can’t get enough, and it’s like a fever broke out and consumed us, driving us to a frenzy.
I realize I’ve horribly ignored her breasts and shift to tug the lacy blue bralette down far enough to free them. The tips go rigid under my stare, and for a moment all I can do is try to remember how to breathe.
Then I capture one in my mouth, circling the tip with my tongue in time with the movements of my hand.
“Fuck, that feels good,” she murmurs, the words an incentive as I switch to her other breast.
I’m all over her, pressing kisses to her chest and neck and mouth like I can’t get enough.
Because I can’t. No amount of this will ever be enough.
Eventually, her grip on my hair starts to tighten, and I press my lips to her ears to whisper, “Come for me, Feyre darling.”
Probably for the first and only time, she does what I tell her. As soon as her mouth opens to release a sound that’ll probably make me come in my pants, I capture her lips with mine.
I keep going until every last little helpless whimper stops, then pull my fingers out and lift up slightly to look at her.
Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, kissed lips. Beautiful.
For a second, we just lay there and stare at each other, and I swear to gods, the words are right on the tip of my tongue. You’re my mate, Feyre.
Fuck, I want to tell her.
If only for the two percent probability that she doesn’t try to kill me or become disappointed by the news. The thought of that two percent, of what it’d feel like to be loved by her--not just desired--is almost enough to risk it.
But in the end, I’m a coward, drawing away from her and pulling the sheet over her. “Sleep,” I say softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
She reaches for me. “Rhysand, I can-”
“It’s okay, gorgeous. This was about you.” She blinks up at me, blue eyes so godsdamn bright. I brush a finger over her cheek and say honestly, “I wanted this to be about you.”
“Okay,” she whispers back, obviously exhausted enough to not argue, turning on her side and getting comfortable in my bed. I know her smell will be all over my sheets tomorrow, one more temptation I’ll have to deal with. “But next time, it’s about you.”
I get to my feet before I can commence next time. The thought of her hands on me... I could sit still and let that woman touch me all day, and I wouldn’t get bored.
I walk to the door, and stop in the frame to look at her again. She’s already asleep, dark blonde hair bright against the black of the sheets.
Gods, I can’t live without her.
Over five hundred years on this earth, and I’m completely wrapped around the finger of a woman who doesn’t even realize it.
I know I’m not worthy of her, but I also know that if by some miracle she doesn’t run in the other direction when I tell her about the mating bond, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be.
__________________________________________________________
ask and you shall (eventually) receive. sorry this took forever, but thanks for the request!
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