#“promptly finds herself in his bed”

[triviareads]

okay but why is this blurb for A Tropical Rebel Gets the Duke by Adriana Herrera everything 😭

[laenordeservedbetter]

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Words: 1k

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader (Godly parent not specified)

Synopsis: Clarisse was fine with not getting anything she wanted until she laid her eyes on you.

Warnings: Pining, whipped!Clarisse, This is mostly in Clarisse's POV, handling of dangerous weapons (a dagger and a spear). [Let me know if I missed any.]

A/N: I apologize if the storyline is messy. I wanted this to be longer, but my attention span was not cooperating with me today. I had to take a lot of breaks while writing this because I could not sit still for more than five minutes.

masterlist || previous work

—

Clarisse remembers the first time she saw you.

You were in the forge, polishing some of the newly-made spears because you had nothing better to do. You were under the supervision of Luke since he was showing you around, but the boy had kept his distance, opting to just watch from the sidelines as you worked. Clarisse had walked into the forge, the chatter that was going on around you stopping. You discontinued what you were doing in order to look at her, wondering why your fellow campers were on-edge at her presence.

Your eyes met hers, taking her aback.

She hadn’t seen you before.

Once Clarisse realized that she was staring, she promptly cleared her throat, scowling. “What are you looking at, newbie?” She asked, crossing her arms. Her plans on scaring you, however, failed when you smiled sheepishly.

You had been equally mesmerized by her, something that she failed to notice. “Sorry, you’re just so—”

Clarisse held her breath, preparing herself for an accusation (that she’s mean and terrifying – both of which are true, but words that sting nonetheless). Though, it’s not like she’s going to think about it for the rest of –

“—Pretty.” You conclude your sentence.

Oh.

Clarisse’s brows furrowed. She thought she would hear something insulting, but instead she was met with a compliment? Her eyes searched yours once again, looking for a trace of malice. She didn’t find any, which made her confusion stir all the more. She scoffs, furious at herself for not being able to figure you out. “Whatever.” Clarisse walks away, turning her back on you so as to not show her weakness. She storms back to the Ares cabin, forgetting the reason why she went to the forge in the first place.

You frown as you look at the dagger in your hand, examining the initials engraved on the grip.

C.L.R.

---

The next time Clarisse saw you was when you were watching her train, your eyes following her every move. Clarisse pretended to ignore you until she found herself unable to focus. She put down her spear, turned to you and asked, “Would you like me to teach you?” before she could even stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”

You walked over and Clarisse pretty much had to use all her self-restraint to not just stand there and stare at you.

“…Alright, so you hold this and—”

---

It had been ages since that day.

Even though you and Clarisse have gotten closer, there was still a part of her that longs for more. See, ninety-nine percent of the time, her wishes don’t come true. Or it does, for a little while, but then it gets ripped away from her grasp. She gets her hopes up and then it all comes crashing down – a cycle that never ends.

Clarisse has come to terms with the thought that she will never gets what she wants. She supposed that she was okay with that, but then you came along and everything changed. For every smile, every crinkle of your nose, every stupid joke that made you laugh, she finds herself wanting to wish that you would feel the same way she does.

“Clary?”

She snaps out of her reverie and looks at you, “Yes?” She felt embarrassed for not paying attention, smiling apologetically.

“I asked if you wanted to—”

“Yes.”

You sit up in her bed, laughing. “I haven’t even finished the sentence yet.” You grab her hand gingerly, locking your fingers together. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me—”

“Yes.”

“Clarisse,” You whine, “Let me continue first.” You pout, trying to let go of her hand, but Clarisse wouldn’t let you.

Clarisse shakes her head, holding on to your hand firmly while her other brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care. I’ll go wherever you go.” She says genuinely. Being that close to you made Clarisse’s heart race, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to look away because then you’ll know that something was up.

You stare at her in disbelief, crossing your arms, “Really? You’ll go with me to show the new kid around camp?”

Her lips purse and you know you’ve got her. Clarisse lets out a sigh of resignation. “No.” She mumbles. As much as she’d love to spend more time with you, she and you have very opposing ideas on how to welcome new campers.

“Thought so.” You deadpan.

“Why are you the one doing it, anyway?”

“Because I’m still in trouble for staying past curfew two days ago, pretty girl.”

Clarisse froze at the nickname. If her heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. You chuckle, beginning to make your way out of the bed. “Hey, no, where are you going?” Clarisse grabs your hand, another laugh escaping you.

“To give that tour.” You roll your eyes, successfully prying your hands away from Clarisse’s grip. You ignore her sounds of protest as you make your way to the door.

Clarisse could feel her stomach drop, feeling the warmth slip away the further your distance becomes. The longer she stares at you with your back turned, the longer she thinks you would leave without saying goodbye. To her surprise (and not for the first time), you look back at her.

“I’ll see you later at the bonfire.” You lean against the doorframe, your eyes narrowing. “Don’t be late, alright?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes at the look you give her. She was only late one time and that was because she was debating with herself whether to give you flowers or not. She wanted to tell you the real reason why she was late, but decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I won’t.” She says instead.

“Good.” You straighten your posture, putting one foot out the door while a hand rested on the doorframe, giving Clarisse a smile she knows you only reserved for her. Only when she smiles back do you actually take your leave.

Clarisse gets a sense of hope upon your departure.

Maybe it would be different this time.

She leans back against the bed frame, sending out the same prayer to every god she could think of.

Please, please, please let me get what I want.

[muntitled]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you

Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking

He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him

"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.

In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.

A torture chamber.

You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-

"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."

You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.

What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.

"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.

"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"

Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.

"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.

It should be vile.

Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?

With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.

The games are on.

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.

They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.

As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.

Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.

With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.

"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.

"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.

Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.

His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.

You truly are furious with him.

"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"

Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"

"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.

"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.

Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.

"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."

Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."

The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.

Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.

"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."

A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"

"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.

You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"

"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.

It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"

"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.

"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.

A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.

While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.

"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.

His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.

"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.

"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.

"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."

"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.

As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.

"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"

"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.

It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.

He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.

"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.

"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.

"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"

"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.

"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"

"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"

You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.

You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.

"I want you too."

Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.

"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"

"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"

"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.

"F-Fuck-"

"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.

His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.

"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"

"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.

"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.

"You'd smoke anyway."

[inuyashaluver]

would you be able to write a cute leah x reader fic where reader gets ill and leah being the good girlfriend she is takes care of reader till readers better

i’ve got you - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you don’t listen to your girlfriend and now you have to deal with the consequences

warnings: mentions of sickness

a/n: we love a comfort sick fic!! thank you so much for the request, enjoyyyyyy ❤️❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, leah were soulmates and everyone knew it. it all started when you joined arsenal when you left australia to join the wsl.

leah was the first one to come up to you all those years ago, a friendly smile on her face with a gentle extension of her hand the moment you stepped foot inside the door.

“hey, I’m leah, we haven't met officially” she said almost sheepishly, her cheeks lightly dusting with pink as her eyes shone into yours. you smiled back with an equally bashful smile.

you've always admired leah from afar when you played against each other, though, you never went up to her out of your own nervousness.

“hi, I’m (y/n)” she smiled because she already knew your name, she’d kept it in the back of her mind ever since the first match you played against each other.

you were breathtakingly gorgeous, and also a player she found difficult to mark when you would approach from the midfield. you were in her mind rent-free, her admiration for you not subtle at all.

“if you ever wanted to..uh, be shown around the area, maybe we could get a coffee or something?” she clears her throat after the sentence left her lips, anticipating rejection from your blank stare, only you surprised her when you started to giggle slightly.

“i’d love to, how about tomorrow?” you suggest, your sweet smile melting her heart as you maintained eye contact with her, “tomorrow is great!” she grinned, wincing slightly at how quick and eager she had responded, but you made all those thoughts wash away.

“its a date” you winked, only leaving her when kim called you over for some introductions to your new teammates. leah’s heart was about to implode, she couldn't believe it. you and her were going on a date.

and fast forward 5 years, she still couldn't believe how far you both had gotten. now dating, moved in together and happier than you ever could be.

–

you and leah were polar opposites when it came to the mornings. your girlfriend loved a good sleep in, she loved it so much she would beg you for 5 minutes more without a fail.

you, however, have always been a morning person, preferring to wake up earlier to have more time to get ready and do odd tasks around the house.

leah admired this quality about you, she loved to watch you move around so effortlessly, looking extremely beautiful as you presented her a cup of tea as soon as she woke up, made perfectly just how she liked it.

though what confused her about this morning, is that you were still in bed when she woke up. leah being up before you was extremely rare and only really happened on her favourite days of the year: your birthday, your anniversary and christmas.

you were cuddled up by her side and she smiled instantly when she looked down at you beside her, though it fell into a frown when she noticed the slight increase in your body heat.

you were always the perfect amount of warm to her but today you were a little too warm and leah didn't feel right about it. she moved some stray hairs on your face, your eyebrows in a slight furrow showing your discomfort.

it was until she heard a little sniffle coming from you that her alarm bells began to ring, her girlfriend was sick. she gently peeled herself from you, moving into the bathroom to find a washcloth, wetting it with cool water, wringing it out and promptly making her way back to you.

she gently rolled you on your back and placed the cool cloth on your forehead, hoping it would bring down your body temperature. leah shook her head as she watched you sleeping, knowing this was because you refused to wear your jacket in training yesterday.

she chuckled remembering how insistent you were fine. she was excited to give you a look that just screamed ‘i told you so’. though, she put it aside for now. instead, she left the room quickly, calling staff members to let them know you both were not coming in today.

you slightly stirred when the bed dipped slightly, leah sitting beside you watching you sleep. you suddenly sat up right, frantically looking at the clock and realising you were both going to be late for training.

“babe, why didn't you wake me up?” you croak, attempting to get out of bed before leah stops you, “baby girl, you're not going anywhere” she said with a stern tone, her hands resting on your shoulders as she gently pushed your back to rest on the backboard of the bed.

“lee, we can't miss training, the game’s coming up” you rebuttal, sniffling as you looked at leah in an attempt to not look as ill as you could.

“we’re not going to training lovey, you're sick” she exhales through her nose, squeezing your cheek affectionately as you look at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“i'm not sick” you scoff, arms coming together and crossing over your chest. leah raises her eyebrows amusingly, her stubbornness was rubbing off on you and she wasn't sure whether to be proud or concerned.

“baby, you're sick, you have a fever and you've got the sniffles” she smiles, her hand moving to rest on your blanketed thigh, “i feel fine to go to training” you groan, avoiding eye contact because you knew she would catch on to your lie, your throat extremely scratchy as you tried to hold in a cough.

“really?” leah said cheekily, her finger hooking under your chin to make eye contact again, you pause for a moment. “yeah” you say simply, unable to stop yourself from sniffling,

“my girl, you are sick and we are staying home, end of discussion” she grins mischievously, standing up and moving towards the end of the bed.

she gives you a shit eating grin before grabbing both of your ankles, you yelp slightly when you feel her pull you down so you were laying down again, your head resting on the pillow.

“leah cathrine!” you laugh slightly, hearing your girlfriend giggle along with you, “that’s me, gorgeous” she grins up at you, moving around the bedroom to put on some sweats and a hoodie.

“i’m popping out for a second, lovey, i just need to get some bits for us” she kisses the crown of your head despite your refusal, “i'll be back, okay?” she affirms,

“i love you” you give her a weak smile, leah smiling back sweetly without missing a beat, “i love you too” she coos, almost sprinting out of the door to get to the shops.

–

she came back about 30 minutes later, struggling to open up the door with all the bags she had in her hands.

when you heard the keys clank on the ground and several curse words escaping your girlfriend’s mouth, you trudged out of bed to open the door for her.

she exhaled in relief when she made it to the kitchen, thanking you with a kiss to the forehead before giving you a lecture after realising you weren't where you were supposed to be.

the only words you really comprehended were: “you should be in bed”, “i can't leave you for two seconds without you doing something you're not supposed to be doing”.

you couldn’t help but laugh when leah dropped all the bags on your kitchen counter, stopping when she gave you a stern expression. "did you buy the whole shop?” you grinned, a little cough escaping your throat that leah winced at.

“no, missy” she tutted, “i got medicine that the pharmacist recommended, extra tissues, soup, other dry foods, tea and other little things” she shrugged after she verbalised her list to you.

your facial expression visibly softened when leah finished, something that your girlfriend noticed and her cheeks dusted with pink at how affectionately looking at her.

“thank you” you say softly in awe, leah smiles sweetly at you, gently moving around the island to grip your hand, walking you into the living room. the couch was already prepared for you with pillows and your favourite blanket.

“you rest here and i'll make you something to eat” you raise your eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes, “shut up” she chuckles, turning on the tv for you and slowly bringing over medicine, tissues, cough drops, anything she could get to help you.

–

after you ate, leah made you move over so she could slot behind you, even though you begged her not to so she didn’t get sick but she refused.

she cuddled up to you, letting you rest on top of her while her hands rubbed up and down your waist gently.

“have you felt sick just today?” leah asked you softly, “i felt sick last night” you admit in a guilty voice, “baby, why didn't you tell me?” her voice laced with concern as you rested your chin on her chest to look up at her.

“I didn't want to bother you” you mumbled, her hand cupping your cheek gently, making you lean into her touch, “you're never a bother, my love, never” she says firmly, telling you she was serious.

you nod, moving your head slightly to kiss her palm. she gives you an affectionate smile, her hand moving to the back of your head to pull it down to rest on her chest again.

“let's have a nap, baby” she whispers, “i've got you” her free hand rubbing comforting circles on your back, sending you to sleep in no time.

she smiles when she feels your deep breaths brush against her collarbone, the way your body perfectly fits against her own as your body rises and falls.

she loved you so much she couldn't believe it. and she knew you felt the same because she felt it everyday. as she watched you sleep, she knew she would do anything you needed from her, and that was a promise she intended to keep.

–

about a week later, you and leah returned to training again, many of your teammates excited to see that you'd finally recovered. and leah was happy to see your cheeky self was back to normal when people asked how you were.

you lovingly stating that ‘leah had cured you’. she’d roll her eyes every time you said it but you both knew she loved it. her pink cheeks never gave her that animosity she wanted.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily lessi baby

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: comes back after a week of being sick and gets herself two goals - she drives me insane

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yourname: maybe it’s my secret to success??

↳ leahwilliamsonn: don’t go around trying to get sick again, missy

↳ yourname: no promises

↳ leahwilliamsonn: such a little shit

↳ yourname: you love it

↳ leahwilliamsonn: sure

[ravenromanova]

Bad girl

Parings: Wandanat x Female Avenger

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Mommy kink, Daddy kink, Fingering, Edging, Bonadge, Orgasm denial, Oral, Nipple play, Mean Wanda, Overstimulation. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Summary: Wanda and Natasha need to give their neglected baby some attention

This fic came from this request!

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

You could feel the two sets of emerald eyes throwing daggers at you as you talked to their younger siblings. Your plan was working a little better than you had intended and you were just hoping they’d break soon. The plan was simple, flirt with pietro and yelena, get Wanda and Nat to give you attention like you’ve been wanting all week.

Your girlfriends had promptly been ignoring you for over a week now and it was killing you. Honestly you had no idea why they were being so cold towards you. So you did what you did best…scheme. And by the looks that both redheads were giving you it was definitely working.

The three of you were downing shots at the bar in between sharing your most embarrassing mission stories.

“No i swear i almost died that mission” You laugh at your own stupidity from your last mission as you down another shot. Pietro went on about how Clint “accidentally” shot him with an arrow during training and you lost it. You slyly put your hand on the blondes shoulder making his twin fume.

“I think you’ve had enough malysh” A thick sokovian accent flooded your ears as her hands came around your waist. Her hands squeezed your hips making you squeak a little as you turned to look at her.

“But im having fun” You try to protest earning a disappointed sigh from the redhead.

“I said you’ve had enough” She repeated herself lowly in your ear causing you to shiver. “Natty is already in the room waiting for us” Wanda took your hand and pulled you away from Yelena and Pietro despite your protests. Her cool rings her digging into the flesh of your arm causing you to struggle in her grasp.

“Heyyyyy!” You pout as she takes you away from your friends.

“Bad girls dont get to have fun” She pushed you into the room where Natasha was waiting on the bed. You opened your mouth to say something but she pushed you onto the bed before you could.

“Anything to say for yourself?” The russian asked kneeling behind you. Your senses were all kinds of fucked as you were surrounded by the two women.

The air in the room was thick with tension as you felt Natashas hands come underneath your shirt rubbing small circles on your stomach. Both of the women raised an eyebrow waiting for your response but you couldn’t find one that wouldn’t make them mad.

“I-I just wanted your attention” The words fly out of your mouth before you could stop them. “You two have been so distant and cold towards me lately” Both women look at each other as you speak and they truly felt bad for abandoning their princess.

“So instead of coming to us about it you decided to flirt with our siblings?” Wanda seethed feeling her guilt melt away and her anger take over.

You simply nod your head at her question feeling all kinds of stupid at your antics. You knew your girlfriends loved you and were probably just having a difficult time lately but you still missed them.

“You could’ve just asked detka” The russian husked in your ear kissing it softly. “But since you wanted to be a slut we now have to treat you like one” Her hands found their way to the hem on your panties making you shiver.

“I-I’m sorry daddy” You groan feeling her hand pull away from your core. “I’ll be a good girl” Natasha chuckled in your ear moving from behind you to lay you flat on the bed.

“Oh we know you will detka” She said softly giving you a sweet kiss before they ruin you. Wanda flicks her wrist and youre left naked on the bed. Both women kneel on either side of you slowly rubbing your soft skin making you burn with desire.

“Here’s how this is gonna go” Wandas voice broke you out of your thoughts. “We are going to play with you and you only get to cum when we say so and if you cum before we allow you to then you will be punished more than you already are okay?” She says gripping your chin.

“Yes mommy i understand” Wanda smiles at your submission and then uses her magic to tie your hands to the bed frame. The red tendrils buzzed against your skin and made you smile.

Wanda made her way down to your wet pussy and stopped right before she got to your clit. Your hips bucked against her hand when you felt her cool hands come into contact with your heated skin. She slowly licked a stripe against your pussy making you moan but ultimately she left you wanting more. She flicked her wrist again and started drawing circles against your clit.

“Oh fuck mommy” You mewl feeling the buzzing on your most sensitive area. Wanda smiled softly and you and gave Natasha a look that sealed your fate for the night. You felt the older woman move behind you and rest your body against her chest. Her slim fingers made their way down to your nipples and started tugging on them.

“Yes yes yes” You chanted relishing in the touch of your lovers. You felt the coil in your stomach about to burst at their touch. But it was soon cut off when Natasha stopped touching you and Wandas magic ceased on your clit.

“Did you really think we’d let you cum that easily? Bad girls dont get to have fun” Wanda repeated her words from earlier coming back up so your faces are inches apart.

“B-But mommy” You whine trying to pull her closer and she responded by smacking your mouth.

“Do not talk back” She reprimanded with a harsh tone making you sink back into Natashas hold.

“Oh come on dont be so mean to her Wands. Our little baby just wanted our attention” Natasha cooed rubbing your cheek softly to soothe the sting.

“Stop being so soft of the little slut Natalia” Wanda sneered giving the russian her signature death glare.

“No, she’s just our dumb little baby who didn’t know any better” The russian played with your hair making Wanda roll her yes.

“She’s still getting punished for being a slut” The younger of the two women flicked her wrist again and the your clit started buzzing again.

“Oh fuck” You throw your head back onto Natasha in pleasure. One of Natashas hand found home around your throat applying just the right amount of pleasure.

The coil in your stomach was about to snap again feeling Wandas magic on your clit. Wanda stopped the magic once more making you whine in protest.

“Please mommy please let me cum” You begged the witch making her shake her head.

“Now what’s the fun in that when you get so worked up by me not?” She asked and Natasha just shook her head at the younger woman. You felt a shifting behind you and then Natasha was the one between your legs.

Wanda shot the spy a look that read ‘what are you doing?’. Natasha simply shook her head and parted your thighs.

“Well if you aren’t going to fuck her then i will” She simply said shrugging her shoulders and started eating your pussy. Wanda groaned at her girlfriend and slightly outed that her fun was over. She always knew the spy had a soft spot for you and Wanda did too expect for when you fuck up.

“Always so soft on her” Her words sent a chill down your spine making you look up on her.

“That doesn’t mean you have to be” Your words made her tilt her head and raise an eyebrow at you. “I-I like it when youre rough with me mommy” You say trying to pull on the magical restraints but failing.

Wanda just smiled and wrapped her hand around your throat and her mouth came into contact with your nipple. “Yes mommy-fuck-“ You moan when you feel Wanda biting and tugging on your nipple.

“So sweet detka” Natasha praised sticking two fingers in you hitting your g-spot. You threw your head back feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re enduring.

“Hurry up and make her cum” Wanda hurried Natasha as she stared at the spy making her speed up her actions.

“R-Right there-oh fuck- yes daddy yes!” The moan ripped itself from your throat and the coil in your stomach snapped as Natasha hit your g-spot just right.

“Good girl” She praised bringing you into a heated kiss. The two of you moaned as you tasted yourself on her lips. Wanda was quick to pull you two apart and settled herself in between your thighs again.

The witch wasted no time in shoving three fingers in you making you scream at the burn. She kept her eyes on you the whole time as Natasha started leaving marks on your chest and neck.

“Oh fuck mommy please can i cum?” You asked feeling your second orgasm build up. Wanda smirks and then rips her fingers out of you causing you so cry out.

“P-Please mommy” You beg pulling on your restraints. Wanda clutches your face in her hand again forcing you to look at her.

“Who do you belong to?” She asked giving you another smack on the cheek.

“You and Daddy i-i belong to you and Daddy” You responded to her question quickly which made her smile.

“You better start acting like it” She said and you nodded obediently as she made her way back down to your pussy. Natasha was still leaving marks on your neck when Wanda shoved her fingers back into you.

“Cum you little slut” Wanda urged fucking into you at a hard and rough pace. The coil in your stomach was building up at every stroke of your g-spot.

“R-Right there mommy fuck!” You screamed feeling your orgasm rip through you. Wanda continued to finger you not caring that you were pleading her to stop. Her fingers worked relentlessly against your core. It all became too much Natashas mouth of your nipple while Wanda fucked you hard had you reeling.

“Too much Mommy s-stop please!” Your attempt at pushing Wanda out with just your thighs failed you when she used her magic again to tie your thighs together.

“Fight me again and you wont get to cum for weeks” She muttered against your clit while her fingers were still in you.

At a certain point you lost how many orgasms your girlfriends had pulled out of you alternating between who fucked you. But after what felt like hours they finally stopped.

“I’m sorry for being a bad girl” You said in the midst of a fucked out haze. Both women laid next to you and Wanda tilted your chin to look at her.

“We’re sorry for ignoring you malysh. We’ll do better.. Just dont pull that again little one” She gave you a sweet kiss and then rubbed your cheek softly.

“We love you detka” Natasha whispered in your ear as her arms snaked around your waist.

“I love you guys too” You said with a dopey smile on your face. The three of you fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying the soft kisses and touches they gave you. That night they promised you no matter what that they’d never neglect their baby ever again.

~The end~

A/n: Sorry i kinda rushed this one i wanted to make sure i posted this one tonight since i have a few more kinktober fics coming out and i dont wanna keep not posting for days at a time!

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other cites

[brain-rot-central]

Home

Rating: E, but a soft E Pairing: Spawn!A/Fem!Tav CW: 18+, dry humping, breeding kink, non-penetrative sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, soft Astarion (emotionally, not physically), possessive Astarion, verbalized consent Word count: 1.9k Summary: Astarion and Tav have resumed being intimate, though sometimes, Astarion can't quite commit to the full act. Not to worry, there are still other activities to enjoy!

They barely make it up the stairs of the Elfsong Tavern and back into their rented suite.

Articles of clothing come peeling off in a flash as soon as the door clicks shut behind them. With the elf’s deft hands, the lock is sealed, now steering the couple back toward the bed. 

His human partner’s knees bump against the edge of the bed, and both bodies are suddenly toppling over onto the sea of silken sheets adorning the mattress below.

The human’s legs instinctively bend at the knee as the elf slots himself between them, grinding himself down into her warm, inviting center. He lowers his head, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that speaks to the depths of his lust.

Teasing his tongue into her mouth, his rutting grows more heated and desperate. The woman moans softly against his mouth, inviting his tongue to a dance as hands find purchase in the silver curls atop his head.

Bare from the waist up, they continue grinding, the human hooking her ankles around the small of the man's back for leverage. He groans in response to the added friction, cock now straining against the front of his pants.

Physical intimacy is still something they’re easing back into, though tonight it’s taken a leap into new territory.

The elf breaks the kiss as he pushes himself up onto his hands, saying, “Scoot a bit higher, Tav, darling. I need more leverage for what I have planned for us.”

A shiver runs across Tav’s body, and she nods her head in agreement. She unlocks her ankles from around his hips and drags herself back until she’s in the center of the bed. 

He follows close behind, bringing himself up onto his knees between her splayed thighs. His arms wrap around the underside of her thighs.

Tav moans again as he sinks his fingertips into the clothed flesh, pulling her roughly against his crotch. She can feel the evidence of his desire with every roll of his hips into her center, a familiar heat and pulling sensation filling her abdomen with every press of his clothed length against her.

“These need to come off,” the elf growls out, and within seconds his fingers hook into the waistband of her trousers. Pulling them down her wide hips and off her legs, he throws them across the room to join the pile of previously discarded clothing, promptly returning to his place between her legs.

She’s left in just her underwear, bearing a deep wet spot at its center on full display. A rich, ruby blush sits high across her face as she watches her partner survey her clothed sex. She feels exposed like this, and yet, incredibly fulfilled. She knows the effect her body is having on him, as well.

The pale elf growls in anticipation above her as his hands make quick work of undoing the laces of his own leathers. He slips a hand down the front of his pants, a soft sigh escaping his lips, eyes rolling closed for a brief moment as his hand wraps around his erection. He adjusts his length, now laying up against his abdomen, and groans as he unwillingly peels his hand away.

Tav’s eyes fall upon the bulge now straining against the undone laces of his pants. A small dark spot can be seen on his underclothes, where the head of his cock lay hidden.

“Can I touch you, Astarion?” she asks, shyly. Her hands begin to trace the outline of his biceps, gently stroking his skin with the tips of her fingers.

Astarion hums, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips before replying, “Oh? Where exactly do you have in mind?”

Tav meets his gaze, eyes traveling between his and the spot between his legs, raising an eyebrow in silent question. 

The elf huffs, sitting up on his knees. He narrows his eyes, looking at her from under his lashes. “Cheeky pup,” he purrs, “at least offer some assistance first.”

Her cheeks burn at his bold invitation and she rises from her position on the bed, placing one finger on his sculpted chest. 

Astarion's eyes look to the single digit pressed into the center of his chest, rising and falling with the uptick of his breathing. He allows Tav to begin pushing him back to the edge of the bed. He stands up off the bed, his crotch now at level with her hands.

Tav hooks her fingers into the hem of his leathers, tugging them down his toned thighs until they pool on the floor around his ankles. Astarion kicks them briskly to the side to join the other articles of clothing littered about the room.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She knows the challenge that physical intimacy imposes on him. She wants reassurance that he’s still comfortable, still willing to continue.

“Quite,” he replies, voice husky, watching her finger trail down toward his underwear. His undergarments do little to conceal the outline of his cock, her finger settling on the small wet patch gathering right at the tip of him. Laying her palm against his clothed shaft, he sucks in a sharp breath as she squeezes him gently.

With genuine concern, Tav inquires, “How far can we go?”

Hips twitching into her touch, he answers, “T-this. This is, aahh, good.”

She smiles before asking, “Can I ride you?”

Entire body seizing under her touch, he moans, loud and uncaring as to who might hear. “Fuck, darling,” Astarion huffs out, hips bucking involuntarily. “There is nothing I'd like more.”

Tav’s gives him a few more pumps along his length. “You should lay down, then,” she states.

He nods, cautiously climbing onto the bed. She gives him space to make himself comfortable, which doesn't fall unnoticed.

Suddenly, he feels small, anxious - his stomach churns as she climbs over his hips to settle herself in his lap. He's slept with countless others in the past, including her. Why feel this way now?

Because this is Tav, Astarion tells himself. 

Something about this being with her makes it… different. 

She's careful not to apply much pressure too soon, testing the waters as she sinks down onto his lap.

The elf hisses as her clothed center envelopes his covered cock, biting his lip to stifle his moan. His hands find purchase atop her thighs, keeping her steady.

“Is this okay, Astarion? Please, tell me,” Tav says, beginning to grind slowly against him.

Astarion's mind is a battlefield, filled with shame, lust, disgust, desire, but above all, love. 

He loves this woman. He's known this for quite some time, though too afraid to admit it.

Love has always meant pain. Attachment meant control.

But, with Tav…

Love is safe. Attachment is freedom.

Free, and safe, to be his own person. To live life for himself.

“I'm okay, dear,” he affirms, holding the hands she has over his chest. “I'm still here.”

Tav smiles down at him as she grinds over the length of him again, bending over to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. “Good,” she tells him, “I really like when you're here.”

Astarion tangles a hand in her hair, holding her close. She relaxes under him as he rolls his hips up against her core, a moan escaping his lips.

“I- I want-” he chokes out between broken moans.

Tav hums softly against his ear before asking, “Want what, Astarion? Tell me.”

“I… I want to come inside you,” he tells her, punctuating his statement with another thrust of his hips.

She moans against his ear, meeting his thrusts with her own. “...Right now?” Tav asks.

“N-no,” he admits, “not now. Eventually.” His other arm wraps around the middle of her back, holding her tighter to his chest. The pleasure begins to coil like a spring, tighter and tighter, eyes falling closed as his head falls back against the pillow.

“I… I want to feel you around me as I fill you.” Astarion opens his eyes, turning his head to meet her gaze through heavy lids. “...I think about it often,” he further admits.

Tav giggles, grinding down harder before saying in a sultry voice, “That can get me pregnant, you know.”

Eyes closing again, Astarion groans, hips bucking against her core. “I don't care,” he growls out. “I would show you off to the entire world, everyone knowing what we've done.”

“You want to knock me up, Astarion?” Tav asks, more in acknowledgement than in question.

“Fuck, darling, yes,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

Tav pushes herself upright in his lap, bending back to brace herself on his thighs. “Would you still fuck me, Astarion?” she questions, continuing their prior rhythm.

“What a silly question,” he replies, placing a hand on her lower abdomen. “I would lavish every change of your body as it swells with my child.”

Humming, Tav tosses her head back, losing herself as he bucks up into her from below. Her own arousal is quickly mounting, threatening to spill over. 

“Lucky for you,” she tells him, her voice strained, “I, too, wish the same.”

Tav feels his cock twitch under her as she confesses. The waistband of his underwear has slipped under his glans from their activities, pre-cum starting to pool against his lower abdomen. 

“But,” she adds, breathily, “only when you're ready for it.”

Astarion’s hands quickly drag her back down over him, and she holds her arms out just in time to brace herself above him. His hips buck up into her heated center as he holds her face, bringing their lips together with a throaty groan.

“Gods, I love you,” he tells her, breaking the kiss momentarily. He tugs at her bottom lip with blunted teeth before capturing her lips again, their tongues intertwining.

They find a rhythm to their seemingly ceaseless rutting, breaths hitching. They're panting now, hard, Tav running her hands through silver curls as she nears completion.

“Astarion, I’m almost there,” she pants against his neck.

His arms wrap around her lower back as he brings his face to her ear. “Tell me what you need, darling,” he purrs, nipping at her earlobe with a fang.

“My… my neck,” Tav says. “K-kiss my neck, please. Your favorite spot…”

Astarion's lips descend upon her neck, suckling at his usual spot. He's fed from this particular spot enough that she's beginning to develop scars - the same scars that he himself bears.

She's given so much to him, he realizes. Her blood, her body, her trust. Never once has she doubted him, even if it was the more reasonable thing to do.

Astarion teases her skin with his fangs, applying enough pressure to feel like he's going to bite, without actually piercing. Tav’s body shakes above him.

“Gods, fuck, Astarion-!” Tav cries, toppling over the ledge. Her hips grind messily over his crotch. He quickly follows her, ropes of his spend shooting between their stomachs as they lay pressed together, mouths agape as they drift softly down from their high.

Astarion groans softly against her neck, planting soft kisses against her jawline as her hands play idly with his hair.

They lay together for some time before Tav speaks up, “Hey, Astarion?” 

He hums in acknowledgement, giving her the confidence to continue. 

She lifts herself up by her arms, looking into his eyes and she tells him, “I love you, too.”

A relieved smile fills Astarion's face as she settles back against his chest.

Neither mind the mess between them as they continue to lay together, enjoying the genuine peace of co-existing.

I'm finally safe, he reminds himself.

This is home.

[pseudowho]

Daddy

Dating apps are a hazard for men like Higuruma Hiromi...

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Higuruma Hiromi has a dating app on his phone.

It's not that he wanted it-- he really didnt. Two silly-drunk colleagues on a night out pushed him incessantly. The cool night air on the balcony made Hiromi shiver and seek out red wine for its warmth; it stripped Hiromi clean...or, it would have done, if not for his Junior Associates and their dirty talk.

"What do you mean you don't have a girlfriend, Higuruma?" The girl chirped, looking so appallingly young to Hiromi, with her mascara and lipstick all drunk-smudged.

"It's because he's working all the time, look at him, probably hasn't had a good fuck in years--" The boy bullied, really barely a man, sharing a cackle with his tipsy, sloppy friend.

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" Hiromi groaned, both hands sliding down his face as he leant back in his chair, "I'm after more than just 'a good fuck' as you so eloquently put it--" his colleagues laughed a dirty laugh, "--and I can get by without one, just because you two saplings have to wank furiously twice a day or you'd spontaneously combust--"

Hiromi was being ignored now, his two juniors chattering between themselves, deciding on a plan.

"Give us your phone, Higuruma," the girl wheedled, two hands clasped to Hiromi's forearm, "just for a minute."

Hiromi groaned again, running a hand through his hair, just wanting some peace and quiet; "sod off, I'm not giving you my phone--" and instantly the two voices were on him, rabbling, cajoling, bullying, until Hiromi waved his splayed long fingers at them.

Hiromi unlocked his phone, flipping it carelessly into the lap of the girl who clapped and squealed in excitement. Instantly, the two young drunks put their heads together, working on their dubious little project.

"Okay, all done, Mr.Higurumaaaa!" The girl sang, presenting his phone to him with a flourish, looking proud of herself. The boy sat, smug, looking at Hiromi like he'd done him a favour. Hiromi felt nervous already.

"What did you--" Hiromi looked down, and groaned for a third time to see a dating profile in his name. But, even he couldn't deny that the candid photo of him in the city skyline bar, loose-tied with a hand running through his black hair, wine-drunk and sultry, was good.

"I certainly won't be using that, thank you," Hiromi berated, to two raucous laughs. Hiromi snorted into his wine, shaking his head fondly at his juniors, and promptly forgot all about his new dating profile.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Some weeks later, in a fit of loneliness, Hiromi remembered it. Legs up on his sofa in the dark, really just wanting someone to talk to, and if they managed to talk him into bed, well, then that was just a bonus--

Hiromi felt a thrilled little leap in his belly-- his inbox was bursting. It didn't take long for the thrill to be replaced promptly by a little rancid coil of disgust.

"Why is she-- why is she calling me Daddy, she doesn't even know-- jesus wept..." Hiromi sifted through 24 year olds, 21 year olds, and even 18 year olds, in his inbox, with an immediately dismissive shudder, feeling like a lecherous old man even just for having been approached by them.

Even the tiny handful of 25-29s made him uncertain, wondering what they wanted from a man with a not inconsiderable amount of grey in his hair.

Feeling dirty and disappointed, Hiromi dropped the phone on his coffee table.

"I shall die a nun, I think," he said aloud to nobody in particular, resigned, lonely.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Darling-- darling-- put on some music for me will you? My hands, uh..." Hiromi waggled his hands, stood at the kitchen counter, chopping raw chicken.

You hummed in affirmation, wandering over to Hiromi, unlocking his phone for him. Hunting through his phone for his music, your other hand teasing his aproned waist, your jaw dropped to find an app languishing, overflowing with notifications.

"Hiromi! You've got a dating app?!" Hiromi spun, his mouth gaping, eyes wide with panic.

"Not-- no no no, it's not what you think--I just completely forgot I had it--"

"Oh shush, I don't think that, silly, I know you'd never do that--" you laughed, opening the app, raising your eyebrows with an appreciative whistle at the artistically languid photograph of Hiromi sprawled in a roof garden chair, long fingers curled around his red wine, looking to all the world as though he were the devil made flesh.

"I'll be having that, thank you," you pipped, saving the photo and sending it to yourself, "and what have we here?" You began to scroll through Hiromi's messages, interested, beginning to laugh.

"Wow, you uh...really attract the daddy-issues ones, huh?" Hiromi hung his head in shame, as you laughed at him, and begun to read some of the messages.

"Daddy looks like that lap needs a baby on it," your voice coy and 'innocent' in a way that made Hiromi audibly "UGH" at you, rushing to wash his hands, grabbing a dish cloth to whip you with as he chased you around the kitchen, laughing.

"Fine AF," you chirped, dodging Hiromi, falling back onto the sofa, still reading aloud in a nasal whine, "Daddyyyyyy."

"Enough of that, you sick little demon," Hiromi snapped, snatching his phone away, pressing you to the sofa, his hips pressed between your legs, nose and lips working with punishing insistence against your throat. You giggled again.

"Dadd--" Hiromi bit into your neck, his water-cooled fingers pinching your pebbling nipple through your top without warning, and you shivered in delight.

"You want a grown woman instead of a girl, these days, and you're the freak--" Hiromi complained, huffing, blushing and smirking down at you. You coiled your hair around a finger, looking up at him, biting your lip in a way that made Hiromi's cock twitch.

"You're saying I'm too old for all that?" You teased, sighing in faux-despair. You gasped as you felt Hiromi hum against your belly, kissing and nipping his way downwards.

"Shut up," Hiromi dismissed, "and let me taste you."

[vent-stink]

Y/n helps Seonghwa

a/n: not proofread (not well, anyway) c/w: oral (m receiving) pairings: owner!Seonghwa x cat hybrid!reader w/c: 1.9k

Seonghwa didn't usually close the door to his bedroom after coming home, so y/n didn't know what to do with herself as the very such thing occurred one day. She slept in Seonghwa's room every night, and it was her routine to plant herself on the bed in whatever position she felt comfortable in that moment and watch Seonghwa with her curious feline eyes as he winded down from his day.

Now she sat at the end of the hallway of bedrooms, staring at the closed bedroom door, at a loss of what to do. "What do you think he's doing?" y/n asked San who was lounging on the couch, not as curious about Seonghwa's apparently odd behavior as she was. He snickered, "I dunno~" His tone indicated that he probably did know, y/n could tell, but she huffed, wanting to find out for herself.

She went to the door, sitting in front of it. She couldn't immediately hear anything, so she pressed her ear against it, listening intently.

Consistent, labored breaths. The occasional sound of his desperate voice in between them. Y/n's hair stood on end, trying to understand what she was hearing, wondering if she was hearing what she thought it was. Seonghwa's breathy curse found her ears, "Fuck- Ah-"

Y/n wasn't in control of her own body when she opened the door a Crack. She just wanted to see, but it was obvious that that wasn't all she was going to end up doing.

Y/n looked at Seonghwa, perched on the edge of the bed, almost heaving as he worked his cock with his hand. His dress shirt was unbuttoned and his slacks were pulled down just below his cock as he was too desperate to get himself off.

Fuck, his coworker had just looked so sexy today. He felt dirty touching himself to the thought of them knowing he had no chance, they weren't into men, but that didn't stop their constant touches throughout the day from working him up so much that this was the result.

Y/n watched with a watering mouth as Seonghwa pleasured himself. She'd never seen her daddy's cock, only having seen the slight protrusion of it when he was stripping into his boxers. She'd never seen him hard, clothed or otherwise. The way her tummy felt right now was different than when was saw San's cock. She wanted to touch Seonghwa so badly.

Seonghwa stopped when he heard a small whimper coming from the door, cursing as the orgasm he'd been working himself up to fell short making him release a pained moan.

He wasn't surprised to see y/n there. He should have locked the door. He sighed as she stared at, not his face, but his hard member. There'd be no way her curiosity would let her leave, now.

"Hi princess," He murmured, lightly stroking himself again, "Do you wanna come watch?" He did not have to ask y/n twice as she gasped, promptly crawling into the room, closing the door behind her.

She sat in front of Seonghwa as he started up again, Y/n watching intently at movement of his hand, the speed, the delicacy, the technique, and his face, contorted in pleasure. She couldn't take her eyes off him. She wanted to be the reason he made that face.

She let out a harsh breath unconsciously and Seonghwa looked at her as she came closer to him, close enough to touch him if he wanted her to. "Y/n-" "Can I help you, daddy?"

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, "You-" He was at a loss for words. He didn't intend for her to ever do this, hadn't even thought of it for a second, even when he let her watch him. He just thought she had been curious, and she was, but she was definitely more than that, evident by the way she was looking at him and the way she was shifting her closed legs in between which her arousal was wet.

"Can I touch you, daddy, please?" She was close enough that she could lay her head on his thigh right next to his cock, looking up at him with such desperation that it would physically hurt him to say no to her, even aside the fact that he was throbbing so painfully that he might explode.

Seonghwa was conflicted, but at her final whisper of, "please," he relented. "Sure, baby...fuck, you can touch me...," he murmured, and he had to hold bad the intensity of his groan at the feeling of her soft small hand tracing the veins of his dick.

He debated continuing to stroke himself as she simply explored the contours of his penis, but decided to fist his hands into the blanket instead, giving her free range to touch him as she pleased. Eventually releasing from this would be more satisfying than just fucking his hand, he reasoned.

His breaths were shaky. He was extremely reactive as she finally wrapped one hand around his cock. She experimented, stroking him a little, the way he had been doing before and his labored breathing returned. Then she stopped to watch his expression as she lightly squeezed. "Fuck! Y/n don't-," she did it again, causing to him throw his bed back, biting his lip at the stimulation.

He was sensitive. Every little movement of her hand on his cock was like a drop of water in the desert, quenching his thirst. Satisfied with the reaction she'd gotten from him, she moved on curiously to the angry red tip of his cock. She hadn't seen him touch it, wondering why as she ran her thumb over the very tip of it.

The sound that left Seonghwa was loud, almost pathetic, as he felt her touch his sensitive tip. Y/n's interest peaked at this. She realized that a substance was secreting from the small slit in his dick that she had touched. Seonghwa watched as she stuck that very thumb in her mouth, tasting him.

The only reasonable following action was for her to consume the delectable substance from the source. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Seonghwa jerked his hips as y/n unexpectedly (to him at least) sucked his tip into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it, as if literally trying to suck the precum out.

She gave kitten licks to his tip, and it was too much as Seonghwa took her by the hair, tugging her back to halt her movements. His chest was heaving, her eyes were wide, and they both just wanted to continue, but he had to teach her what he needed right now. She could take her time sucking him down like a lollipop another day, but he needed his cock in her throat as soon as possible.

"Do you think you can take it all in your mouth, baby?" He asked gently, "have you done this to San before?" She shook her head. San was usually too busy drilling his cock into her cunt for her to take it into her mouth, but as she looked at Seonghwa's length, while she didn't know if she could fit it all in her mouth, she knew she definitely wanted to.

"Can I help you?" He asked, "Can I help you do it?" She nodded. With the grip he had on her hair, he moved her head forward slowly, pushing his cock into her open mouth.

She closed her mouth around him, sitting still for a moment. It was an uncomfortable position and when she attempted to breathe, she gagged around him, almost violently. Seonghwa pulled out and she gasped, coughing. "M'sorry, daddy. M'sorry!"

Seonghwa pet her reassuringly, "It's okay baby, just breathe slowly through your nose, okay? Do you wanna try again?" She nodded, determined to get it right.

Seonghwa led her through it again, and this time she breathed through her nose, slowly so that she didn't suck air in too fast and gag again. When her lips reached the base of his shaft and stayed there as he watched her calmly take a few breaths, he finally let out his own breath of relief. He was holding himself back from fucking into her mouth, but he could never do that to her. She was being so sweet and patient and obedient, he was going to make sure that this was a good experience for her.

Then she started moving.

He didn't prompt her in any way, but as she sat still with his cock in her mouth, now at least a little more confident that she wouldn't gag as easily, she knew that she had to move in order for her to pleasure him the way she wanted to. So she pulled her head back then back down again.

He hissed, letting go of her hair in fear that he might actually push her down too harshly, and he let her find a rhythm. It started slow as she got used to the feeling, still making sure that she wouldn't gag. Then finally started getting faster when she started feeling confident, Seonghwas loud moans a signal to her that she was doing a good job.

It wasn't hard for Seonghwa's orgasm to start building again. He had already been so horny that he could have nutted if y/n had been 2 seconds slower in opening the door. Paired with his hypersensitivity to her, since this was the first time she had remotely don't anything like this, especially for him, he was loving this.

As he felt himself about to burst, he attempted to pull her off of his cock, but she held firm. He didn't want to have to cum in her mouth the first time, she wasn't used to it. But there was no stopping her. "Fuck, y/n, my baby, my good girl, such a good girl, fuck, I'm cumming!" He groaned, releasing his load into her mouth. She didn't expect it, but she was not opposed to it at all. It had a taste that she somehow craved as if she had been needing it for so long without even knowing. She hadn't even realized that her own legs were trembling, hips rocking against nothing as her own high was being built up.

"Shit, y/nnie," He spoke as he pulled her off his cock even as he was still releasing, causing some of it to fall on her face and chest. He frowned when it got on her clothes, this apparently being an important issue when his seed was literally spilling out of him.

Y/n licked her lips, and despite his initial reservations about her swallowing his come, he couldn't help but bring his hand to her mouth, his index and middle finger pressing down on her tongue to look back into her throat, seeing that it was all gone.

"You're so good, swallowing like a good girl," he murmured petting her head as she leaned her head on his thigh again, nearly vibrating at the praise. Seonghwa noticed the movement of her hips and was about to offer to help when she let out a loud moan, hips juttering.

She heaved, "I'm a good girl, daddy?" Despite her exhaustion she wanted to keep hearing him praise her. "Did you just cum, baby?" he asked, still stroking her head, and she nodded against his leg.

He just looked at her with awe, "You came from just my cock in your mouth. You liked it that much?"

"Love your cock, daddy," she said softly, "Love it so much. Love your taste."

He smiled warmly at her, "Well, you can have it whenever you want, okay?" "Daddy can have me, too," she mumbled, "I want to please, daddy."

"You please daddy every day just by loving him."

[myouicieloz]

All for me

CEO Im Nayeon x college student!reader

Synopsis: Nayeon is on a work trip and you miss her.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, phone sex ig

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: hummm I think there are some spelling mistakes… grammar ones too lowk... not proofread! ˆˆ

-

“Who’s Jenjen?” Nayeon’s voice is full of disdain as she stares at you, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“W-what?” you frown, taking your mouth out of her breast with a ‘pop’, truly confused about why she’d bring up your friend in the conversation while you’re like that: a mess of coated saliva and wheezy thoughts, buried in between her chest. “She’s my roommate. From the US, remember? But why—” The woman ignores your confused face, promptly picking up your vibrating phone from behind you. It was visible that your friend, Jennifer (or, well, Jenjen💞❤️😎💙 — as the girl had picked out her own contact name) was calling you. “—oh.”

Jen doesn’t call you often, so it’s strange that she did. You gesture to reach your phone from Nayeon’s delicate hands, only to have your own slapped, instead.

“What are you thinking? Don’t fucking answer.” She lifts an eyebrow at you, pulling herself up to her elbows.

Daring you to misbehave, to not listen to her clear commands. You know how well Nayeon loves this game, how she delights herself in punishing you whenever you do something she deems as wrong — even if you haven’t actually disobeyed her. She just revels in doing as such: messing with you as she pleases. You’re her property, after all. Her little doll, to play and deal with however she wanted to.

And you know better than to not follow her blindly.

You’ll deal with Jen later, you decide. For now, you allow Nayeon to pull you by the hair, bringing your focus back to her delicious moans as your mouth finds her stiffened nipples once again.

-

It was rare for Nayeon to facetime you unexpectedly.

You’d usually have full days of classes, and hers were usually pretty packed up with work, so she’d always wait until you were both on a break to call, messaging first.

Not today, though.

You answer the video call straight away, fixing yourself as best as you were able to while her face didn’t appear on the screen. While you were surprised, the smile on your lips was genuine. The woman had been in Japan attending a few meetings for a couple of days now, and you missed her a lot. She also seemed surprised to see you in your dorm, too, though it clearly pleased her more than it should.

“Hi, Nayeon. Is everything ok?” Your eyes brightened at the sight of her, looking so composed and lavish in her work clothes, bunny smile and shiny eyes presented all for you.

She could be a bitch and a pain in the ass if she wanted to, specially when dealing with work stuff, but she was always caring towards you. Never rude, never impatient.

“Well hello, princess. Don’t you have classes to attend to?” you giggled at the older woman, jumping in bed and taking her— or your phone, for what it mattered, with you.

“Technically, yes.” you told her, after a few seconds of fake pondering, “I’m ditching today, though. There’s this super difficult test on Friday, and I’m barely halfway done with reviewing, so I’m picking my battles.”

She knew this beforehand, of course. You’d given her your schedule when the semester had started, just so you’ll be aware, you’d told her. Truly, it was just natural for you to have her know your routine: it made you feel safe, cared for, and she liked it as well.

You tried to recognize if she was in her hotel room, but her background was a bit different from where you had FaceTimed last night; the walls were too white, and she had headphones on.

Most likely still at work, then.

“Smart girl, picking your battles.” Oh. There it was again, that tone. The one that made you tremble with anticipation, readjusting yourself in bed, so you could have some friction in between your thighs.

It was no surprise that Nayeon preferred to be taken care of. She did spend most of her time bossing people around, after all. Of course, you were more than pleased to give her that, treating and handling her just how she wanted you to, while she rewarded you with expensive gifts and trips. However, most of the time, she’d use you for stress-relief: groping and marking your skin until her anger was gone, and she could dote on her little doll again.

You looked forward to those nights, secretly wishing someone would make her angry enough so you’d be squirming, hopeless, under her touch for hours an end.

“It’s perfect, then.” Nayeon’s voice brought you back to the conversation, the sharpness of it not going unnoticed by you. “Take off your pants.” she commanded, leaning back on her chair so she could be the most comfortable.

“Excuse me?” it was your turn to stare at her incredulously, but she didn’t bulge. If only, her posture got stricter, and a tiny smirk adourned her face.

“Did you not hear what I’ve just said? Undress.” you rolled your eyes at your partner, suddenly filled with defiance, but still did as told. Your sweatpants were taken off rather clumsily, since you were still holding your phone close to your face, but you were quick to obey.

“Fine. Is it better, now?” You muttered, but Nayeon scoffed, still not fully satisfied.

She licked her lips, pleased to have you following her orders.

“Much better, princess. Now, let me see you.” You were curious to see how far she’d go, so you placed your phone on the other end of the bed, allowing her to see every inch of your exposed skin. Even with your panties and a sweatshirt on, you still felt completely exposed to her gaze.

Truth be told, you did feel that way even when you were fully clothed around her, too.

“So pretty. Are you alone?” She praised you, her onyx eyes leaving your body for a few seconds to search for any signs of other people at the dorm.

“Obviously?” Nayeon gave you a hard look, making you shrink in place. You tried your best to be polite, reserved, calm—and that included never being ironic or making snappy remarks at people, but occasionally, it slipped, almost naturally. “Sorry.” You corrected yourself, not meeting your girlfriend’s eyes. “Yes, I’m alone. Jen also has a full day of classes today. A private practice too, I think. She’ll be out until late.” You feel better, seeing the smile of approval on your lover’s lips.

She was looking at you with such lust, it made your heart break with how much you missed her.

“I want to touch you so bad.” you whined, motioning yourself further so you could hold the phone and be near her —at least virtually, again.

“Don’t move the phone. I want you exactly like this.” The answer came almost immediately, though Nayeon’s eyes did soften at your pleading. “I miss you too, pretty girl. The good news is: I’ve closed the deal earlier than expected, so I’ll be home by tomorrow.” You smiled contentedly, humming in response. “Now, be a good girl and make a show for me, will you?” she asked, eyeing you attentively.

“Not fair.” you mumble, but your hands still went all the way up the thin fabric of your panties to caress yourself. You’re not one to blush, but being stared at by Nayeon suddenly makes you too shy to look at her in the eyes.

It aroused you, though. To have her so immersed by you. You knew her secretary— anyone could barge in, and she wouldn’t even bat an eye. Aware of that, you could feel the slick starting to cover up your walls once you let out a low moan, biting your lips to muffle yourself.

“No sounds for me, princess?” Nayeon asked, too sweet, well aware of your intentions. She let you be a little defiant, knowing it’s mostly your way of showing how much you missed her.

“If you were here, then p-perhaps.” Your words faltered as your fingers caressed your folds, going around your slit in teasing motions. Your cunt was aching, desperate to be filled, but you knew better than to take matters on your own.

Even though you were the one bringing yourself pleasure, Nayeon was in command. She’d always be, in every aspect of her life.

The simple brush of your fingers was enough to have you panting heavy breaths, the wait being the most delicious part of the thrill. You wished it was Nayeon touching you, instead. You knew your sweetest spots, but no matter how much you’ve tried, you could never bring yourself to the same shuddering, earth-shattering orgasms you had whenever it was your partner touching you. Without her, you were never truly satisfied.

She’s ruined you, for yourself and for everyone else, just as she’d repeatedly told you she would.

“It’s only fair, I guess.” She mumbled, smiling at your stubbornness. “So pretty, still, and all for me. Put a finger inside, baby. That’s it, perfect. Breathe in, nice and slow.”

Her breaths were just as heavy as you followed her blindly, eager to seek your pleasure. Your walls welcomed a single digit, and you started with slow movements, just as Nayeon instructed you to.

“N-nayeon…” You whined, leaning your had back on your bed frame. As much as you could feel your wetness and the growing ache, gathering an uncomfortable sensation on your lower abdomen due to the faint action, you’d never be able to satisfy yourself as much as your girlfriend did.

“I know, princess, I know.” She coos, grabbing her phone as if she could reach out to you, instead. “It doesn’t feel as good, does it? It’s okay, I’ll be done with this conference soon enough, and then you’ll have me all to yourself.” You pouted, knowing better than to trust your girlfriend’s words when it came to work. She had done it before, after all: gotten a call back as soon as she stepped foot in the airport, her job trapping her for a few more days. “You have no idea how lovely you look right now, Y/n. In fact, I think your pretty pussy would look even better filled up with two more fingers.”

“I-I,” You whined, lips starting to tremble. It has not been an easy week for you, and your lover’s calm, soothing voice slowly started to turn you into a pliable mess, all hot and hazy.

The many thoughts seated previously in your head start fading, as your brain chooses to focus on Nayeon. Your eyes, though nearly closed, register how good she looks, how tight that 3-piece suit is, and how long she’s been away from you — now. Your skin got even hotter with the wishes to be kissing her plump limps, at the moment. Suddenly, your mind turned foggy, only grounded by your girlfriend’s low tone, and your fingers filling up your walls.

“You can take it, pretty girl.” She assured, motioning for you to do so. Clasped her teeth, then, at the sight of your pussy being entered by three of your fingers, still going in and out in an excruciating slow pace, not nearly enough for you to feel satisfied. “Taking it so good, so perfectly.”

Although the growing ache in your belly was deepening, you still shifted uncomfortably in your bed. The fabric of your panties was too thin, and the friction was starting to bother you. You wanted it off, so you could focus completely on the pleasure you were allowing yourself to have, but your girlfriend had other plans.

“What are you doing, princess?” She lifted her brows at the sight of you lifting your hips, displeased. Although she couldn’t say she hated to see you at that angle. “No, we can’t have that. Good girls keep their panties on. Just push it to the sides a little more, you can hold it if it makes you more comfortable.” Your pussy was so wet, glistening, and slick from her words. “There it is, you’re so good at doing what you’re told, baby. Always so smart.”

You let a loud moan escape from your mouth, aroused by her words, only to cover it up with your hands as you giggle— your pettiness all ruined.

Nayeon smiles hard, too. “I knew you wouldn’t hold it for long, princess. Your sounds are the most lovely, I hate when you cover them up.”

Even though you were flustered, from both your arousal and her praises, you still bit your mouth, committed to following your plan. Your fingers went back to your cunt, and you denied faintly, murmuring some incoherent words about how she’d have to come home and take those sounds out of you, herself.

“What’s all that for, huh?” She leaned her elbows on her desk, smirking at the mess of you on her phone. “Is it because of that purse you were whining about earlier? Come on, princess, I’ll buy you two of them if you let me hear your beautiful screams. Now go faster, too.”

You increased your fingers’ pace, moans exiting your mouth without a care, now that you'd have your wishes granted. “S-so good…” You say, in between whimpers.

“Dirty princess only wants my money.” Nayeon chants to herself, enamored by the sight of your spread up legs, toes curling with the possibility of reaching your high. “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll give it all to you: all you want, and more. Just say it, and it’s yours. You want more, Y/n?”

You barely register her words, moans now filling up your bedroom’s previous silence. It takes her to repeat her question for you to partially understand it, although still unsure of what she was mentioning. Nevertheless, you nodded vigorously, ready to comply with all of her orders even if your mind was all foggy and hazy.

“Perfect. Now, circle your clit slowly, just like that, yes— exactly how you like it.” She laughs at the sight of you wincing, on the verge of being overwhelmed by your own sudden touches, “Careful, princess. We don’t want you to get overwhelmed right now. Remember to breathe, alright? That’s it, beautiful.”

Following her lead, you inhale deeply, bringing your other hand to your clit as you applied just the right amount of pressure to make you roll your eyes. The sensations aligned were building up to the pleasure on your lower abdomen, and you knew that you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Nayeon, I-I w—“ Your thoughts weren’t clear, and you struggled to voice your desires out loud. The frustration was enough for you to have little tears starting to accumulate in the corner of your eyes, as you huffed.

Thankfully, Nayeon knew you well. Before you started actively crying, she said, with a delicate, caring tone. “It’s okay, princess. You can cum. Do it only for a bit longer, I know you can.”

The effect of your girlfriend’s words was almost immediate: within moments, you were met with a dense wave of pleasure, consuming you completely as you let out a high-pitched, lustful moan. Breathless, you barely noticed how your fingers kept going with their movements, helping you ride out of your orgasm. Your girlfriend let you take your time, minutes passing by in a blink until your breaths were no longer irregular, and your thoughts were all back into place. You were no longer stressed; instead, you stared at her with a peaceful look, now feeling much better after such a tiring week.

As usual, Nayeon knew exactly what you needed.

“Always so sensitive…” Nayeon panted, brushing her fingers through her phone’s screen— as if she were caressing you, instead. “Remember to not overwork yourself too much, okay? Your grades don’t matter to me as much as your well-being; it should always come first.”

You nodded, bringing your phone near your face once again. Of course, you’d comply; she was the one paying for your tuition, after all. “I will, of course. Thank you, baby.”

Nayeon smiled, pleased by your manners. After catching up to her a bit more, you hung up the call, now all focused and much renovated for a new study session. Her message came later, a few minutes after you’d cleaned up your mess and was on the way to your desk, in hopes to wrap up soon.

Ps: I’ll buy you another one of your favorite purses if you leave your panties by Jennifer’s bed, princess.

You laughed at the message, also noticing your bank app’s notifications before you threw your phone away, emerging deep on your notebooks once again.

[teabutmakeitazure]

Congratulations on 1000 followers, 1000 mouths to feed, and 2000 watchful eyes (｢• ω •)｢ Couldn't happen to a better writer ♡

I saw you sneak Illumi on that list. I am very frightened of the needle man. Can I request something with the first time Illumi realizes he is obsessed with darling?

Perforate and Permeate

>Yan! Illumi x Fem! Reader

>Word count: ~3.4k

Red flags start appearing in the form of odd piercings on taxi drivers. The feeling of something horribly off surrounds you, but in the end, some people are always powerless, aren't they?

The first red flag of the evening was the creepy taxi driver. There seemed to be some sort of yellow ball stuck to the skin on his neck, and his movements and speech were somewhat robotic. The second red flag was that he offered you a ride without you even calling for one.

Thankfully, the evening rush hour helped you get away from the peculiar man, and you slid into the subway train, hidden and safe among the numerous people around you. Ironically enough, it felt a little hypocritical to find comfort among the number of people since you were always adverse to crowds. The smell of sweat and close proximity of human beings made you a little nauseous, but right now it felt safe.

The third red flag comes in the form of your apartment building’s watchman being absent. He never takes a day off and always ensures that the other watchman - the man who usually works as the receptionist since for some reason there’s a desk and everything in the lobby - takes his place while he’s away for food or such.

Neither men were there and as you press the elevator button to your floor, you catch a shadow in the corner of your eye before the doors close. The fourth red flag is that your apartment windows are open. Not all of them, but the living room windows are open. You’re absolutely certain you had left them closed when you left. You could even swear on it.

Nevertheless, some sort of dismissive hope deludes you into believing that the wind opened them and you don’t dare come any closer. The reminder to check their locks is pushed into the back of your mind when you fall onto your bed face first. Silence envelopes you, its warm hands granting you the comfort of your home.

Despite how quick the comfort came, all relaxation leaves your bones when your phone rings. As you accept the call and press your phone to your ear, you realise you almost drifted off. Your mother’s voice greets you before turning into a scolding one when you tell her you just got home.

The conversation goes as it usually does, your nerves calming down despite the subtle feeling of not being alone. You don’t blame your scepticism. Ever since you moved out, you’ve always been careful and paranoid. Maybe it has to do with preferring silence and being around less people, but you don’t like the lonesomeness and silence as much as you thought you did.

You say goodbye to your mother on the phone, and sit up, groggily making your way to the kitchen. The silence of the apartment unnerves you, so you turn on your phone’s flashlight and check every single room and cupboard of the house, leaving all the light bulbs on.

The apartment is now fully illuminated and the TV plays some random news show while you cook. It makes for good white noise and you don’t feel as alone anymore.

But you still feel watched.

The curtains are promptly drawn over the windows.

Thankfully, the feeling goes but quickly returns when you sit down to eat dinner. The panic that arises constricts your throat, heart beating in your throat and you immediately dial your mother again, praying that the paranoia dies down.

It doesn’t. She never picks up. 

Three phone calls later, she picks up but excuses herself saying that she’s going out for lunch with your father. The time zone difference makes you frown, realising that you're ruining her weekend with your baseless paranoia.

Dinner gets your attention back, but something seems to have its attention on you.

You're cognizant of the sounds coming from the street, television muted. The drip drip from the kitchen sink sings the vocals while the refrigerator buzzes the music. Exhaling, you pay attention to the noisy details, dinner finished and an empty plate in front of you.

The feeling goes away soon, but comfort doesn't return.

-

The first red flag of today's evening follows behind you. A man with his hoodie hiding half his face is trailing behind you, and you're briefly wondering how dense he must be to not realise that you're leading him in a circle for the fourth time. You don't mind the extra walking, but it's pretty annoying.

Should you lead him to a police station? Losing him doesn't seem to be an option. He's persistent. Even in the fifth circle, he's casually walking behind you.

You go ahead with making your way to a nearby station, but he slips away when it's in sight. Your eyes watch the man as he heads the other way, an uneasy feeling stirring in your chest at the loss of someone's eyes on you. As you make your way back to the subway station, you contemplate walking home instead. Maybe you could drop by a café or even pick up dinner from somewhere.

However, a second red flag appears while you are in your thoughts. A taxi stops in front of you when you're scrounging around your bag for your phone and the window pulls down to reveal a taxi driver with a strange yellow piercing between his eyebrows.

The driver offers you a ride, and you stare at him dumbfounded. You didn't call for a taxi. A few passer-bys send you confused looks, but you brush it off. The man is promptly shut down and you walk away, mentally cursing yourself over the lack of crowd on the street.

Almost as though on cue, a lady grabs your arm. Her grip is unyielding and she frantically explains how you need to come with her. A familiar yellow piercing on either side of her neck greets you when you turn to look at her, but any composure you have quickly dissipates when she starts pulling you.

It takes everything you have in you to pry yourself off and run in the other direction. The few people that did stare at you turn away when they see you running, and honestly you don't blame them. No one wants to get tangled up in something like that.

By the time your legs start hurting, you're almost home. There's no time to pick up anything from a restaurant so you make a mental note to order in instead. As you walk with your phone in hand, the situation dawn's on you. Three red flags already. You don't even want to know what the fourth one will be.

But alas, the heavens never hear your silent pleas and the fourth red flag stands in the watchman-less lobby of your apartment building. You hadn't seen either men today as well, and simply seeing the person who casually leans against the wall with eyes fixed on you is making your heart do literal backflips inside your chest.

"[Name]."

The simple greeting makes you freeze. Hands grip your bag tighter as you look into his bottomless eyes and greet him back with a simple hello. He doesn't seem to mind your nervousness and gets straight to the point.

"I wanted to see you. It's been quite a while."

Your finger remains on the power button of your phone, ready to press it five times at the earliest notice to send SOS messages to your friends. Upon receiving no response, he continues, trying not to eye your deathly grips on your belongings.

"How was your day?"

"It was… fine." Voice meek, you don't know what to say to him. It's not everyday you see a person such as himself. "How… have you been, Illumi?"

The question seems to perk him up. "I'm not quite sure, but I suppose I've been alright. I do want to ask you something. Why are you holding your phone and bag so tightly?"

The muscles on your legs go taut, and you briefly glance at the elevator door thinking you could make a run for it. However, the reminder of Illumi's occupation mocks you. Of course a hunter wouldn't let you go so easily.

"I'm not sure." Your words are unsure as you speak. "I guess I'm not feeling very well."

"Should I get you medical attention?"

"No. Not that kind of not very well. I just feel a bit down, that's all."

He seems to have understood something because he's nodding. "I see. If there's nothing wrong with your physical health, it'll go away. Make sure to rest properly and you'll feel better."

"Thanks. I'll go to bed early tonight."

"Are you free right now?"

Free? Does he want something? You're no help to a hunter. "I'd like to get to bed as soon as possible, but I'm willing to hear you out."

Your grip on your phone loosens a bit, and Illumi immediately takes a few steps closer. Hardly a foot of space is left between the two of you, but before apprehension can return, he's demanding all your attention with his words.

"May I have your phone number?"

What?

"My… phone number?"

He nods. "Yes. Your phone number."

The dumbfounded look on your face makes him blink at you owlishly. 

"I was wondering whether or not it would be appropriate for me to ask for it. I suppose I settled with ignoring the thought."

Did he… really just admit that? 

"Um, alright. I don't see why not." You know where I live anyway, the voice in your head continues. 

You share your contact information with Illumi, but you have no idea why he wants it. His intentions are as clear as muddy water. It doesn’t make you feel any better, but if nothing, at least he asked you for it. With his licence, he could have obtained your number with ease like how he ended up in your apartment's lobby. You give him only a few points for human decency.

When he’s done saving your information on his phone, a satisfied look is on his face. The silence of the lobby remains as you wait for him to finally let you leave. That is to say he doesn’t request to visit your apartment.

“I think that’ll do.” Illumi looks up, head tilting slightly when he sees your exhausted expression. “You should rest. I won’t stop you. Just seeing you this evening is enough for me. We can talk some other time.”

Talk? What would you both even talk about? The only reason you know him is because some target of his was your work client and he scared him off. Honestly, never hearing from that man again is one of the best things that happened in your life.

“Sure,” you reply with a very obviously unsure voice. “I’ll see you later then.”

Illumi waves you off and as you step towards the elevator, you feel a little shameful for not inviting him for dinner. But then you remember that you live alone and he’s an adult man. Perhaps it’s better to not do so.

As you press the button, you glance back at Illumi down the lobby. He's waving at you, so you wave back. The door starts to close and the expression on Illumi's face changes. Lips curl upwards, eyes crinkling as well.

When the door closes, you're thankful for the distance. You never want to see that horrifying grin on his face again. It sent shivers down your spine and it seems like the creepy smile is now engraved into your brain.

Had you not been in the elevator, you would've ran out the lobby. Perhaps some people are better off expressionless after all.

-

It's been an entire day since Illumi took your number. There's been no contact, no message, nothing. As you stare at your phone sitting in front of you on the sofa, you think back over today's evening bitterly.

There was another taxi driver with the same yellow piercing. Added to that, an old woman with the same piercing had approached you and asked to walk her home. You declined. Though it felt bad to say no to an old lady, you didn't want to possibly find any unwanted trouble.

Besides, there's something definitely wrong going on. After the old lady, you found the watchman in the lobby. Even he had a piercing on his face, in between his forehead to be precise.

You didn't bother to reply to his greeting this time. There was something off about his smile.

Maybe you should move out as soon as possible.

However, that's not what's bothering you. It's the fact that there have always been four red flags. This evening, you only came across three.

The thought of an impending fourth one makes you feel nauseous. You're home now, back to safety. There has never been anything bad between these four walls, so why would there be anything now?

Maybe you missed counting a fourth one. Yes. That's it. You just missed one red flag. The thought doesn't do much to console you, but it's enough to allow you to sleep when your head hits the pillow. Unfortunately for you, that doesn't last very long.

The feeling of a pair of eyes wakes you up with a startle. You immediately throw away the covers and run to the switch, turning on the lights. Nothing. The same goes for the rest of your apartment. All the lights are on but there’s nothing out of place.

Are you going crazy? 

It must have been a bad dream. You still feel watched, but that’s just because you just woke up. Water. You need some water.

The glass is quickly emptied as soon as you fill it, and now you stand alone in the kitchen, the silence of the night and the refrigerator’s hum your only companions. The kitchen counter is cold underneath your lingering fingertips, and begrudgingly, you part with it.

Sleep doesn't come back easily. At least half an hour must’ve passed with no sign of slumber’s gentle embrace, so you get up and turn off the bedroom light. The door is then left open only a little bit to let some light from the living room bleed inside the room.

It doesn’t help much, but your eyes feel less burdened.

Upon turning to the other side and nuzzling into the sheets further, the lessened burden seems to increase again. There’s someone resting their face on the mattress, body probably sitting on the floor and this person’s eyes seem to be fixed on you.

It takes you blinking a few times and sitting up to realise this isn’t a dream.

By the time your eyes have completely blinked away any sleep, a hand is slapped over your mouth to stop you from screaming. Your chest heaves as you follow the arm to the body it’s attached to and finally the face.

Illumi.

“Pardon me if I woke you up. It wasn’t my intention.”

The mattress dips as he joins you on the bed. If the circumstance wasn’t unfortunate enough, he’s now literally hovering over you with one of his knees between your parted legs under the blanket. Long black hair cascades around his face as he leans in, large eyes observing your features.

You blink at him as your breathing settles down. The lack of action from Illumi’s end does help your nerves calm down a little, but the threat of an obviously more powerful man literally above still remains.

This is your fourth red flag.

The weight of his observant stare weighs you down, the feeling of a boulder on your chest making you sink backwards into the bed. All that you see are Illumi’s large, dark eyes. It’s suffocating and you want to scream, but the sound dies in your throat before he even lets go.

You don’t dare make a single noise as he sits up straight on your thighs.

Illumi briefly breaks eye contact, eyes dropping down to your collarbones peeking from your neckline from the dishevelled state before his eyes go back up to yours. The weight of the boulder had lifted during that time, but with his eyes back on you that weight goes to your consciousness.

“I suppose I should commend you for not screaming. Seems like you’re quick to understand.”

All he gets in reply is your nervous gulp.

“You require an explanation, don’t you?”

This time, he tilts his head at your lack of response.

“I gave myself an ultimatum. Four tries every evening for every working day of this week are all I have to work with. If your refusals of my lenient methods bother me, then I must get to the bottom of the feeling. If I am not bothered in the slightest, I must stop wasting my time.” Iluumi pauses, possibly in anticipation of some sort of response, but continues. “I suppose my presence here at this hour explains which conclusion I had come to.”

He waits again for a few moments but ends up explaining his own words himself when you’re still frozen in what he thinks is shock. “Your refusals bothered me. I can’t be certain why. Even your less enthusiastic response to me asking for your phone number bothered me.”

You’re still staring at him. Mind barely processing the words. Illumi is in your room in the middle of the night. Illumi is a hunter, a potentially dangerous person, and he’s caged you to your own bed. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever been in your life, yet you can’t even bring yourself to cry over the absolute fear you feel because of the intensity that keeps growing and radiating from Illumi.

“You occupy my thoughts more than I would prefer, and the only cure I found for that is to watch you when you’re home. No other activity soothes it.”

His index finger and thumb hold his chin as he continues thinking over the matter, but his eyes are still fixed onto you. When his eyes widen slightly, the intensity you felt grows dramatically and you have to reflexively cover yourself till the top of your head with the blanket to not end up asphyxiated.

A hand gently pulls down the cover till your chin, and luckily, the intensity mellows enough to allow you to breathe.

“I came here tonight to understand why trying to sleep on my own causes me distress. It’s like I search for you in my own bed, and the lack of your presence makes me restless.”

He leans in, hands sinking into the mattress on either side of your hips and you instinctively shrink into yourself. Voice perfectly even, the tone betrays the depth of his words. “I talked to my mother about this feeling and came to a conclusion. I’m in love with you.”

Sweat starts to bead at your forehead, but Illumi’s eyes refuse to allow you any reprieve. One of his hands sneak up your body, fingertips gently tracing the outline till his hand lightly wraps around your throat. The grip is non-existent but the threat of a not so well meaning squeeze still exists.

“All I need to do is squeeze. A fragile human such as yourself would give in to death in under ten seconds if I do decide to test my grip. However, even the mere thought of it bothers me. Even now, I can’t bring myself to hurt you.”

The hand moves further upwards, cupping your cheek despite the sweat. “At first I thought you were using some kind of Nen to bewitch me, so imagine my surprise when I found out that you’re a non-user.”

You finally manage to shakily exhale through your mouth, but the beating in your heart suddenly becomes too loud when his thumb traces the edges of your lips.

“I thought I should kill you to get rid of your spell, but the thought of you not existing anymore made my chest ache.” Illumi sighs. “Seems like the damage has been done, and it’s quite a lot. With how the majority of my thoughts are about you, I could even claim that I’m obsessed.”

The intensity grows again, and it gets even harder to breathe in the cool room. When Illumi’s thumb forces your lips open and presses down on your tongue, you can only hope you’ll be safe. After all, the look in his eyes is absolutely frightening.

[rhaenyslay]

A New Prince

Part One: 'A Rose Between Thorns'

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Aemond Targaryen x OC!Niece!Reader

Summary: Rhaenyra gives birth to her fourth child, a son - much to Aelora's annoyance.

Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth (non-graphic), swearing.

Word Count: 2.7 K

A/N: There's no direct Aemond/Aelora interaction in this one, but don't worry, the next one will be full of it - I'll make up for it I #promise.

༻❁༺ 117 AC, AELORA’S CHAMBERS

The morning birds chirp happily as the sun rises warmly over the Keep’s turrets and gardens, hills and courtyards, and a robin perches itself happily on the young princess’s open windowsill. She smiles at the small creature fondly, gently making her way over to the window as she arises from the edge of her bed, stepping down from the dais it sits on, giggling to herself for a moment at the tickly feeling of the cold and slightly rough stone floors of her chambers against her bare feet. She sits herself on the stool just beside the windowsill.

“Hello, little bird.” She whispers with another airy giggle, causing the robin to cock its head to the side and ‘teek’, hopping closer to her hand that has since outstretched very tentatively.

There are a few seeds that remain on the windowsill from where she had fed some of the morning birds only a few days before - she nudges them towards the robin, who eagerly takes them with another ‘teek’. The robin hops forward once more, closer still to her outstretched hand, but is interrupted when the door to her chambers all but swing open.

“Mother and Father want us in the gardens for breakfast.”

The little robin quickly disembarks with a final ‘teek’, leaving Aelora to sigh softly, “Jace, what is it about knocking you find so impossible?”

Her younger brother shrugs, “What is it about not being annoying you find so impossible?” The young boy retorts with a teasing shake of his head, resulting in an eyeroll from the princess.

She stands from the stool, straightening out her chemise, “I suppose they’ll want us dressed and ready?”

Jacaerys nods, “Yes.” He seems to hesitate a moment, a coy smile on his face as he lingers in the doorway.

Suspicious, Aelora narrows her eyes slightly, “What?”

“Can I play with Moonfyre today?” Jacaerys asks.

Aelora pouts, lifting her chin up and looking away slightly, “No, you wouldn’t let me see Vermax last sennight.”

Jacaerys frowns, “Because you were mean to me!”

“Well, you can’t see Moonfyre today.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so!”

“Children, children…” Septa Marcia says as she strolls into Aelora’s chambers, a couple of handmaidens following behind her. The Septa - assigned to Aelora at the recommendation of Queen Alicent due to her reverence within the Faith and notable students past - was a warm woman in her early-mid 50s, her face round and youthful despite her age, with sage green eyes and what was once fiery red hair now greying and partially concealed by her hood. The daughter of a Tully and a Dornish man, Septa Marcia holds a warmth to both her appearance and her demeanour that Aelora has found most comforting on many occasions of emotional distress yet also inviting enough to weave giggles and smiles among it all, “Bickering still? You have another brother on the way soon, what example are you setting, hm?”

“Or a sister.” Aelora adds as one of the handmaidens begins to unlace her chemise, the other unplating her hair.

“Or a sister.” Septa Marcia nods and adds with a playful eye roll to Jacaerys, who giggles. She gently taps the prince’s shoulder, “Run along, my prince,” she says to him softly, “your sister shall join you shortly.”

Jacaerys nods and promptly leaves.

“Septa Marcia?”

“Yes, princess?”

“What’s your favourite colour?” Asks the seven-year-old girl, stepping out of her chemise.

The Septa laughs softly, “My favourite colour?”

Aelora nods.

“Well,” she thinks, “Blue, I would say,” the Septa muses, “a nice sapphire blue. Why do you ask?”

“Mother is having some more dresses sewn for me but I can’t decide on any colours.” Aelora sighs, this predicament being the main concern of her sweet little world, “There’s too many!”

Septa Marcia laughs once more, sitting on the stool Aelora had risen from just prior to her entry, “Oh, what an annoyance indeed.”

The handmaidens slip on a new chemise and follow it with a comfortable but equally beautiful purple gown - the sleeves puffed ever so slightly and the skirts loose, both of which provide a reprieve from the warmth of the summer sun. The laces are tied as the little princess continues to speak, “I like to have lots of different colours.” She says, looking at the fabrics of her dress, at the golden embellishments, “It makes me feel like a rainbow!”

“And a very pretty rainbow at that.” One of the handmaidens, Jana, comments with a smile.

Aelora smiles at the praise and compliment while they finish dressing her, now moving onto her hair, “Can I only have a little bit braided?” She asks, looking over her shoulder at the other handmaiden, Malia, as she feels her hair being brushed, “Like Princess Helaena, I would like to match with her.” Malia nods and continues to brush the princess’s hair.

“Helaena and I are getting matching dresses.” Aelora happily tells Septa Marcia, her legs swinging back and forth from where she sits at the vanity, “Hers is going to be pink and mine is going to be blue, but they will look the same.”

“You will both look very pretty, I’m sure.” The Septa says with a smile, beginning to arrange the embroidery for when Aelora returns from breaking her fast.

“I hope so, the Queen said that we c-”

For the second time that morning, Aelora’s chambers are interrupted by a brief knock, only for it to open all the same, revealing Ser Criston Cole, “The Princess Rhaenyra has entered her labours.” He announces, slightly out of breath, clearly having rushed, “I have been asked to escort the princess to be with her brothers.”

Aelora’s head whips towards Ser Criston, “She has? The baby is coming? Little sister, little sister!” She beams excitedly, doing a little happy dance before Septa Marcia tuts and promptly places a hand on her shoulder to stop her. 

The handmaidens and Ser Criston, however, smile. “Come, little one.” Ser Criston says to the young princess, “We can get something to eat on the way - some lemon cakes, perhaps?”

She instantly lights up and nods her head, making her way over to him, “Can we get one for mother too?”

“I’m sure she would appreciate that, princess.”

༻❁༺ 117 AC, ALICENT’S CHAMBERS

Rhaenyra, weakened and burning with a tired fury, holds the newborn babe close to her chest as Laenor holds her arm, aiding her bloodied and weary steps towards the Queen’s apartments. She can still feel the oppressive heat at her core and head as she recoils at the way her silver tresses cling to the exposed and hot skin of her neck and forehead, the burn in her legs, the roughness of her dress against her skin - yet she perseveres, repressing a growl with the tensing of her jaw as she sees Alicent - stood upon her dais as a handmaiden checks her gown, chin up and poised - turn to look at her as if she wasn’t the reason for her being here.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent begins, voice conveying a tone of shock and concern, yet her eyes convey differently, “you should be resting after your labours.”

“I have no doubt that you would prefer that, your Grace.” Rhaenyra responds, forcing a tense smile as she subtly masks the shaking in her arms as rocking the babe in her arms.

“You must sit.” Alicent graciously suggests, “Talia, fetch a cushion for the princess.”

“There’s no need.”

“Nonsense.”

Talia, a handmaiden, promptly grabs a pillow and places it down on the nearby seat. Alicent takes the opportunity to run her eyes over Rhaenyra and the babe, her brown eyes flittering over the babe as if in search of something, hands fidgeting a little nervously. The tension continues to thicken as Laenor helps Rhaenyra sit, only broken when the King enters with a wide smile.

“What happy news this morning.” He sighs and beams at his daughter happily.

“Indeed, your Grace.” Laenor replies, returning the smile.

“Where is he? Where is my grandson?”

Laenor gently takes the baby boy from Rhaenyra’s arms and hands him over to Viserys. Alicent smiles at her husband, but her eyes continue to search.

The King cradles the small babe proudly, ‘What a fine prince - sturdy, you will make a fierce knight… yes you will…”

The babe makes a few little noises, seemingly content in his Grandsire’s arms.

Alicent redirects her gaze back to Rhaenyra and Laenor, “Does the babe have a name yet?”

“Well, we haven’t sp-”

“Joffrey.”

Rhaenyra meets Laenor’s eyes with furrowed brows, looking up at him from where she sits. A pause follows. 

“He will be called Joffrey.” Laenor reasserts.

Alicent’s eyes narrow momentarily, almost fleetingly, “That’s an unusual name for a Valyrian.” She shifts her eyes to Rhaenyra.

The princess, still aching from her labours and now enduring the tension within the Queen’s chambers, manages a smile, casting her eyes down.

“I do believe he has his father’s nose.” Viserys, oblivious to the tension - as always - says, turning to look at Leanor, who promptly smiles and laughs softly, over his shoulder.

Alicent looks once more to Rhaenyra as Viserys turns away once more, a knowing look in her eyes. The princess diverts her gaze, as does Laenor. He clears his throat.

“If you don’t mind, your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest.”

Viserys nods with a warm smile, “Of course.”

He hands Joffrey to Alicent - Rhaenyra watches with a tensed jaw and tightness in her chest as Alicent’s svelte hand brushes back the blanket that swaddles the babe, hearing Laenor’s muttering of “the hair…” as she does so. Alicent coos to the babe with a smile as she cradles him, rocking him in her arms and pacing the chambers. Rhaenyra’s eyes fix upon them, hardly noticing her father take her hand in his own.

“Well done, my girl.” He whispers fondly, “I do hope the labour was easy. Easier than it had been with Aelora, at least.”

She looks at him a moment before her head turns to Alicent and Joffrey once more, “I think I called the midwife a cunt…”

“Oh.”

They share a smile before embracing each other with a kiss to their cheeks - a genuine warmth spreading through her at the feeling of her father’s arms around her, momentarily easing the pain of her labours and the tensions ensnaring her.

A few paces away, Alicent has since handed Joffrey back to Laenor, “Do keep trying, Ser Laenor, sooner or later you may get one that looks like you.”

Laenor feels the burn in his chest, the tingle in his fingers as he turns to the side to suppress his anger, instead cradling Joffrey closer to him.

༻❁༺ 117 AC, RHAENYRA’S CHAMBERS

“...a big, scary dragon!”

“No! Not a dragon, I don’t want it to be a dragon.”

“Aelora, it has to be a dragon-”

“But they aren’t all scary - Moonfyre is nice.” “Moonfyre tried to eat Aegon the other day!”

“Well, then he shouldn’t have tried to touch her while she was eating!”

The siblings’ dispute is quickly silenced by the sight of their mother and father entering the room.

“Mother!” Jacaerys promptly jumps up from his seat on the stone floor, “Look!” He rushes over to the ornate, black pot among the cluttered table beside the princess, lifting the lid to reveal black dragon egg sat among hot orange embers.

“We chose an egg for the baby.” Lucerys announces proudly.

“You chose an egg for the baby.” Aelora mumbles with a pout, only just now standing from being sat on the floor, “You both went without telling me.”

Laenor gives her a sympathetic smile while Ser Harwin helps Rhaenyra sit down as she smiles at her sons, “That looks like the perfect one.” 

“Not everyday an egg leaves the dragonpit, princess, I thought it best to escort the lads.” Ser Harwin says, his deep, warm voice the perfect antidote for the tensions that were slowly leaving the princess’s body.

“Without me…” Aelora mumbles once more, making her way over to Laenor, silently hugging his waist and looking at the baby in his arms. Laenor kisses the top of her head gently and bends down a little to show her Joffrey better.

“Laenor and I thank you, Commander.” Rhaenyra sighs breathily as she smiles up at Ser Harwin.

“Another boy, I heard.” He adds, to which Rhaenyra smiles once more.

“Unfortunately.” Aelora sighs, her cheek against Laenor’s blue doublet.

Ser Harwin smirks at her, “You wished for a sister?”

Aelora nods, “I’m sick of boys… they’re stupid.”

“But you’re always with Aemond, and he’s a boy.” Jacaerys says teasingly, putting the lid back on the pot, “And you always go to the dragonpit with Aegon.”

“Aemond is a nice boy.” Aelora retorts, “He doesn’t steal my plums.”

“I did that once!”

“And Aegon teaches me cool tricks to do with Moonfyre.” She continues, “And he steals - I mean - gets us cakes.”

Rhaenyra, too tired to delve deeper into that, laughs loosely, as do Harwin and Laenor, “Well, a boy it is - little we can do about that.”

Aelora sighs dramatically before looking at the baby once more, smiling softly, “But he is very cute.”

“Indeed,” Laenor agrees with her and looks down at Joffrey, “What a fine knight you’re going to make, eh?”

Harwin’s eyes linger on Joffrey longingly, “Might I?”

Rhaenyra looks up at him and seems to relax further in her seat, “Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.”

Aelora’s nose scrunches up, “Joffrey? That’s not a very Valyrian name.”

Laenor sends her a look before nodding to his wife, “Of course.” He hands the baby to Harwin - he doesn’t miss the small glare Rhaenyra directs towards Aelora momentarily, clearly triggered deeper than the surface level of the words alone.

“Joffrey, is it?” Harwin hums, taking Joffrey into his arms - Laenor nodding in confirmation.

“Father, may I please hold Joffrey?” Lucerys asks Laenor, Jacaerys’s hand on his shoulder and his own hand reaching up to the baby, Jacaerys’s following.

Aelora nuzzles closer into her father’s waist, “Can I? I really want to - and mother said I could hold him first yesterday…”

“No, no, no…” Laenor, with a small smile, removes Aelora from his waist and gently pushes the boys’ arms away from Ser Harwin and the baby. “The dragonpit for you two, before they send out a search party.” He says to Luce and Jace, guiding them to the door, “And… somewhere with you.” He says to Aelora with a playful face. 

She giggles and allows him to push her towards the door, “But, father, I don’t want to go to my embroidery lesson… Helaena isn’t joining us today and the other girls are so boring!”

“I’m sure you will find something to do, sweetling.” Laenor kisses her head before turning to close the large double doors with a parting, respectful nod to Ser Harwin.

A moment of content and comfortable silence warms the chambers as Rhaenyra relaxes for the first time that morning, watching as Ser Harwin rocks Joffrey with an awe-filled gaze.

“Asleep in front of the Commander of the City Watch… terrible lack of respect.”

Rhaenyra laughs softly, “A certain insolence runs in the family, I’m afraid.”

‘Oh, I can tell…” He laughs too, gentle so as to not wake the baby, “Particularly with that little firecracker.” 

“Aelora? Oh, yes…” Rhaenyra’s smile falters momentarily, “Yes… all the beauty to attract a suitor when she comes of age, I’m sure, but none of the patience to keep one.”

Harwin scoffs in amusement, “Indeed, although the courtiers adore her; she’s been raised well - her comeliness can’t be denied.”

“Hm.” Rhaenyra hums in response, hands on her stomach as she feels the pain ease.

“A true princess, just like her mother.”

Rhaenyra smiles at the Commander, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest at his words. ༻❁

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Could I just like make a request about the jojos having a darling who does literally everything to stay away. Like they come up with the dumbest excuses or do dumb stuff just to stay away

woot woot, this’ll be my first thing with Jodio hopefully I can write him correctly before doing headcanons. Sort of more of a reaction thingy but hope it satisfies, since I’m trying to get back into a groove of things.

Jonathan

His heart flutters hearing you stumble on excuses, he can tell you’re lying but he doesn’t mention this. Though he finds it in your best interest to have someone looking out for you, in the end. Whatever little thing you busy yourself with, he finds a way to come around. Sometimes it just happens to align with his father’s request to fetch something. Just maybe he twists things around to something you like, even if it only keeps you around for a few extra seconds.

Joseph

The biggest trickster there is, it’s near impossible to try and get out of anything with Joseph. “Mmm, you already used that one” He gives you a quick wink. He knows where you hang out mostly, and can easily tell if you’re not the “ruffian” type. If you’re a bit snarky yourself, he does his best to make you slip up. Or if he’s really determined waste enough time that you don’t have to bother with that other “task” you had to do.

Jotaro

Blunt. To put it lightly, Yare Yare leaves his lips as soon as you stumble through an excuse. He knows how efficiently you may or may not get things done. Anything you’re usually not fond of makes him raise an eyebrow (immediate suspicion if it’s possibly just to impress some other person). It almost feels like an interrogation when he asks the sudden interest in whatever you spilled out. Forget trying to do anything dumb, fib or otherwise he’s not letting you do it. Even if you do manage to slip off and go out on your own, Jotaro is around somewhere.

Josuke

Similar to Joseph he’s pretty on top of silly excuses, because he’s probably made up a thing or two himself. The best course of action for him is making up an excuse himself to get into whatever you made up on the fly. If you ask, he tells you he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Even if it’s obvious he’s lying to you, he makes it nigh impossible to leave “hey that’s what you said you were doing”.

Giorno

He definitely knows the ins and outs about you, so lying won’t likely get you very far. Besides every little excuse you do make, he seems to always have a counter for. It’s almost freaky, if you don’t know how much Giorno negotiates. Though there’s times he let’s you go on the basis of a flimsy lie. Rest assured though something goes missing and it always leads back to him. Anything out of the ordinary for you is promptly taken care of, “That’s a rather interesting way to try to keep away from me” He’d tell you in a friendly tone.

Jolyne

Like her father she can be pretty blunt herself, even insists it’s not a great idea to stray too far. The little excuses you make are intriguing to her, but she counters with her own plans. Sometimes she’ll get you lipstick and see if you’ll wear it out later, depending on what you told her you were supposedly doing that day. Little runarounds with you keep her on her toes making sure you don’t run off. Simple things like getting you to spend extra time with her, with her own little excuses. Eventually there might be a time your handcuffed to her bed, for a day or two. “Don’t you ever get tired of making up stuff? It’d just be easier being here with me you know, I’ve got your back”

Johnny

He’s rather scary when you make up something on the fly to avoid him. His blue eyes bore into your soul, unless he uses spin there’s usually nothing much he can do. As he improves however, the space between the two of you slowly shrinks. Johnny makes it certain one way or another your attention is drawn back to himself. He notes everything you do, so if you don’t “have” something he either has an extra or absolutely knows you have an item. Similar likely happens with your horses habits. If he’s determined he manages to pin you under him. He merely mumbles “Stay” at a little too close for comfort distance.

Josuke (Part 8)

He’s curious at some of the excuses you make here and there. Or hearing about things you’d usually wouldn’t do. He’s not dumb obviously, so he asks if there’s a reason you’re avoiding him. The possible roundabout answers you give, don’t really satisfy. It is cute you’re nervous about it though. He may just simply ignore some of the things you tell him to try and keep your distance. Josuke wants to see you anyway, if he can’t he might try and call just to test if you’re at a certain place. “There’s nothing that can convince me to keep away” He’d tell you at one point or another.

Jodio

“Li~ar, liar~” At least this is what happens when you come up with something on the fly. Admittedly he’s busy with trying to get rich, but since he likes you on a level enough to significantly care. The things you tell him don’t quite match up. It’s not really hard to tell you’re avoiding him, he might even put that out bluntly. He’ll show up randomly when you least expect it, he might swipe something from a friend or delay a meetup somehow. “I don’t really care about whoever else you hang out with ya’ kno~w, it only should be a me and you thing”.

“Just don’t get used to thinking you can avoid me all the time”

[sapphire-writes]

Chapter 2: Curiosity Killed The Cat

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

summary ~ You begin to adapt to the unusual events of Harrenhal and your mysterious host. An unexpected guest arrives.

warnings below the cut for your convenience

warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, spiders

note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!

banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!

You lay in bed, tossing and turning for several hours waiting for another scream to inevitably pierce through the now silent halls of Harrenhal house. 

Your eyes are too heavy, and you drift into a dreamless sleep. The belly full of tea must have helped soothe your nerves. Or perhaps it was more your time spent with the stoic head of the house. 

It is Maelor’s cry that wakes you the following morning, rather than his mother’s, through the baby monitor on your nightstand. You hear his small gurgles as he wakes, hungry for his morning bottle. Grabbing the monitor, you jump out of bed to head toward the nursery. 

As you walk down the hallway, the door opens and Jaehaera stands dressed in a pink dress, her hair done in two braids down the side of her head. 

“Beat you!” she says, grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

“How’d you get ready so quickly?” you comment, smile slightly faltering, “And how did you do your h--”

“Come on Miss Gevie, breakfast is my favorite meal of the day!” she sings, brushing past you and towards the hallway.

“Jaeha--- um--- I have to get Maelor!” you call, as she disappears around the corner her braids swinging behind her, “Okay….you head down!”

The day starts with a simple breakfast of oatmeal and eggs--Jaehaera is first to inform you that the only way to eat eggs is sunny side up. Aemond joins you but only for a cup of coffee. You notice he prefers it black. He doesn’t speak to you, listening intently to Jaehaera as she chatters away. Then Jaehaera begins her morning lessons when her tutor arrives promptly at nine. A kind older woman who awards you a tight smile when she introduces herself.

You hold Maelor against your hip as he babbles, walking through the main foyer and toward the library. Several workers have arrived, and you’ve seen Aemond directing them to different areas of the house throughout the morning. He’s present in the library, sitting at the oak desk when you enter.  

“Sleep well?” he asks, as he notices you enter the library. His eye flickers to Maelor in your arms. 

Rising from his seat, he closes a folder of papers before rounding the side of the desk. He walks closer to you, lifting his hand toward Maelor. The baby grabs Aemond’s forefinger with his pudgy fist.

“As well as I could. I was nervous during the night,” you admit, cheeks warming, “Just in case anything happened again.”

Aemond hums, still watching Maelor who holds his finger hostage. The baby brings it to his mouth, gnawing on it with his gums. 

“He’s teething,” Aemond comments, “Hopefully that won’t cause more late-night disturbances.”

“It’s alright. I know what I signed up for,” you assure him, as he pulls his hand away from Maelor, patting the baby on the head. 

“I’m afraid you’ll get more than you bargained for,” he says, eyes meeting yours, “This is…a lot.”

Your eyes search his face, trying to decipher the emotions he hides. Trying to find some cracks in the armor he wears during the day. You saw some last night, in the kitchen. The walls came down, if only for a moment.

“You need help,” you tell him, “You can’t manage this all on your own. The kids, Helaena, the house…I’m here to help.”

“The children,” he clarifies, “You’re here to help the children.”

“And you,” you offer, “I mean…if I can be of help with anything I’m happy to do so.”

Let me help you, you silently beg. Someone has to.

Aemond hums once more, “You’re very kind, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Just doing my job,” you assure him, but your face continues to warm at his compliment. 

You hold each other’s gaze for several moments before Aemond finally looks away. 

“I have some work to do,” he tells you, and you take it as a sign to leave him be. 

“Maelor is about ready for a nap,” you tell him, turning on your heel to go.

You shut the door behind you, neither speaking again.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” Aemond tells you later in the week during one of your late-night chats. 

A cup of tea at midnight has become somewhat of a tradition for both of you. Helaena wakes nearly every night. It's always the same. Screaming for the son she lost. The green and purple cups are always waiting for you in the cabinet by the stove for your inevitable journey into the kitchen. 

“Just tying up some loose ends in King’s Landing,” he assures you, “Helaena should be alright. I’ve spoken with her doctor about increasing her nighttime medication.”

“And if she isn’t?” you ask, unable to hide your nervousness at the thought of him leaving.

Aemond watches you for a moment, humming softly to himself. It does little to soothe your nerves.

Things go smoother than expected while Aemond is away. You fall into a gentle routine with Jaehaera and Maelor. 

While Jaehaera is in her lessons you bring Maelor to Helaena. As Aemond had prepared you, Helaena refuses to hold him. She barely even looks at him. Her eyes instead are trained on your face, reading your microexpressions like the pages of a book. You and Helaena don’t talk much during these visits, though you attempt to engage her in conversation.

She always joins you for lunch, after you put Maelor down for his afternoon nap. Jaehaera comes fresh from High Valyrian and chats with her mother in their native tongue. 

Then it’s time for Jaehaera’s afternoon lessons and you get some time for yourself as Helaena returns to her room like a bird returning to its cage. 

Usually, you journey to the library, browsing through the collection of novels and trying not to snoop. Though you must admit, in an old house like this it's hard not to. 

Curiosity killed the cat.

Advice you should probably heed. You glance at a desk in the library strewn with papers. Aemond has a private office, he’d told you as much when you arrived. Still, your fingers skim the papers, and you pick up a manila folder examining its contents. 

Old documents, withered and yellowed nearly disintegrating from age. You can barely read the cursive ledger on the page. Squinting, you are able to make out the word Strong.

Satisfaction brought it back.

A loud thump causes you to drop the folder in surprise, sending pages scattering to the floor. 

“Shit,” you curse to yourself, dropping to your knees and picking up the pages, putting them back where they belong. 

You hurry over to the window, looking outside. A red Corvette is parked, its driver missing. The noise must have been the car door slamming shut. Dusting off your knees you hurry out of the library closing the door behind you. You quicken your pace down the hall and front steps as voices echo from the kitchen.

A man stands in front of the sink clad in a three-piece suit, holding his cell phone to his ear.

“Tell Corlys…dammit, I can’t hear you,” he snaps, holding his phone in front of him, “Hello?”

The call clearly drops and he sighs, “Bloody service.”

You clear your throat, alerting him of your presence. He turns slowly, still looking at his phone as though he couldn’t be bothered with you being there at all. A lock of silver hair falls into his eyes as he leans against the counter. A ring on his hand catches the light. Like you’d need to see the Targaryen sigil stamped on the back. You knew he was a relative the moment you saw him.

Targaryens don’t camouflage well. 

“Just a moment,” he comments, glancing up at you from his phone. He does a double-take, straightening up and slipping his phone into his back pocket, “Hello.”

“Sorry…I wasn’t expecting anyone,” you tell him, watching the corner of his mouth tick upwards in a smirk. 

Aemond does that too.

“And I wasn’t expecting a beautiful woman to greet me,” the stranger says, “So I suppose we’re both surprised.”

Warmth floods through you at his flirtatious tone. He’s older--much older-- and an air of confidence encircles him like a veil of smoke.

“Daemon,” he introduces, extending his hand for you to shake, “And you must be the au pair.” 

You place your hand in his, and he grasps it firmly. His palm is rough and warm; much larger than your own. Your lips part, you’re sure you haven’t taken a breath since he’s looked at you.

“Mhmm,” you answer, telling him your name.

Daemon releases your hand, shaking his head slightly as he chuckles to himself. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

“Something funny?” you ask, trying to keep the annoyance from your tone.

“No, nothing. I’ve found au pairs to be particularly helpful,” he comments, laughing under his breath as though he’d told a joke, “It just surprises me, is all.”

“Why is it surprising?”

“Aemond’s not usually the sort,” Daemon says, not clarifying any further. 

You understand what he is implying, your cheeks growing hotter.

“Aemond and I have a strictly professional relationship,” you tell him, causing him to chuckle more.

“I’m sure you do. Aemond does value his professional relationships, doesn’t he?” Daemon says with his smirk growing, “All this talk of my nephew and I’ve yet to see the man. Where is he?”

“He’s not here.”

Daemon’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline.

“Not here?”

“He’s away on business. Won’t be back for a few days.”

“And he left you, all alone?” Daemon asks, taking a step closer to you. He reaches up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You can’t suppress the shiver that rolls through you. 

“I can take care of myself,” you insist. Daemon’s scent floods your senses; teakwood, smoke, cinnamon. Intoxicating; it makes your head spin. 

“I’m sure you can. My nephew wouldn’t have hired you if he had any doubts,” Daemon murmurs, dropping his hand, “It’s not the harmless nanny he needs to worry about.”

“What do you mean?”

Daemon watches you like a cat toying with a mouse. His lip curls slightly, enjoying your discomfort. 

“Are you aware of the history of this house?” Daemon asks.

“Yes,” you tell him.

“Well, there you have it,” Daemon says, walking by you, “Have Aemond call me when he’s returned.”

You can hear his steps echoing down the hall, followed by the slamming of a car door. You stand in the kitchen for several moments, trying to catch your bearings when Jaehaera runs in.

“Who was that?” she asks, throwing her arms around your waist. 

“Just…nothing,” you assure her, stroking her hair, “How were your lessons?”

As Jaehaera tells you about her day, you focus on calming your racing heartbeat. You can’t help but linger on what Daemon had said.

What exactly was he worried about?

Helaena Targaryen loves arachnids. 

This becomes apparent when a spider scurries across the floral picnic blanket you’d laid out for Jaehaera. 

Maelor sits with his thumb in his mouth rocking back and forth as though a gentle breeze may knock him onto his back. Sitting up is quite new to him. The afternoon had been going quite well before the eight-legged monster descended on the tea party.  

“Miss Gevie! Miss Gevie!” Jaehaera screeches, launching herself off of the blanket and into your arms. Her girlish scream echoes through the backyard and she trembles against you. 

The arachnid freezes at her movements, eight legs tensed and ready. Maelor stares at his sister, violet eyes wide before they drop to the blanket. Helaena is seated in a chair a few feet away, the large sun hat she wears partially obscuring her face. 

“The fresh air does her good,” Aemond had told you before he left.

Helaena dives off of her chair, knees crashing into the grass beside the picnic blanket. You comfort Jaehaera as Helaena dips her torso lower against the blanket letting her hand dance above the spider. She presses her cheek into the blanket as the spider curiously lifts two legs up toward her dancing fingers. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she murmurs, touching the tips of her fingers to the spider's outstretched legs. She stays like that for a moment, a small smile appearing on her face. 

Maelor watches his mother, his thumb falling from his mouth. 

“Kill it!” Jaehaera demands as her mother scoops the creature into her hand. 

Helaena rolls onto her back, the rim of her hat getting crushed beneath her. Her knees are stained green. Maelor claps his pudgy hands together letting out a gleeful squawk. 

“Why?” Helaena asked, looking at the creature in her palm with the fondness she no longer gives her children, “For simply being here?”

“He’s ugly and I hate him,” Jaehaera insists, “Make her kill it, please.”

Helaena only hums, letting the spider climb down her arm. She sounds like Aemond when she does that. Warmth bleeds down your cheeks and onto your neck. You’d been missing him. The nights have been rather empty without your late-night chats.

Helaena turns on her side, ignoring her daughter’s pleas and releasing the spider into the grass. Once free, it takes off lost from sight almost instantly. 

“There,” Helaena says happily, “No need for violence, byka jorrāelagon.”

“Kepus would’ve killed it,” Jaehaera says, with her lower lip jutted outwards in a pout. 

There is a shift in the energy between mother and daughter.

“Why don’t you ask him then?” Helaena says, rolling onto her back once more and closing her eyes. 

“Kepus!” Jaehaera says, pushing away from your arms and running toward the house. You watch her run, following her gaze up the stone steps until you meet Aemond’s eyes. 

He’s back.

She throws herself into Aemond’s arms much like she did your own, and he reaches down, scooping her up in his arms and holding her against his waist. There’s a swooping feeling in your stomach as he approaches, the heat returning to your cheeks. 

“How are my girls?” Aemond asks as he moves closer. 

You move to the other side of the blanket, scooping Maelor in your arms as he begins to bang his fists on Helaena’s hat.

“We’re having a tea party,” Jaehara tells him, “Muña saved a spider. I said she should kill it.” 

Aemond chuckles softly at her pointed tone. 

“Your mother would never,” he says, setting her down on the blanket, “And you?”

You glance up at him, surprised he addressed you, “Me?”

Aemond nods, holding your gaze, “How are you?”

You can hear the blood rushing in your ears as he continues to stare, piercing gaze never leaving your face. 

My girls.

“I’m well,” you answer.

Aemond joins you as you sit back on the blanket, the spider no longer disturbing your peace. Jaehaera dotes on him, she loves her uncle dearly you can tell. You return Maelor to the bassinet as his eyelids begin to droop, rocking it side to side with your hand as he begins to drift off to sleep. 

Jaehaera places a saucer on Helaena’s stomach before balancing a teacup on top of it. Helaena barely raises a brow as Jaehaera wedges a lemon cake onto the plate as well. Though she doesn’t thank her daughter, she brings a hand to the corner of the cake, tearing off a piece and placing it in her mouth.

Aemond sits straight up, balancing a teacup on his knee as Jaehaera stands behind him, combing her fingers through his long, platinum hair and twisting small braids throughout. You hadn’t realized how long he kept it, it’s usually in a bun when you see him, but now silver waves cascade down his shoulders to the middle of his back.

“We should head inside,” Aemond mutters, “The clouds are gathering.”

“A storm is coming tomorrow,” Helaena murmurs.

“How’d you know?” you ask and Helaena’s mouth ticks upwards. All Targaryens seem to have the same smirk.

“She always knows,” Aemond says, smiling softly as his elder sister.

In sleep, someone speaks to you. Whispers in your ear, breath hot like flames licking against your flesh words you do not understand. 

A scream pierces through the night and you awake with a start. An ache begins behind your eyes and you press the heel of your palm against your forehead. You catch your bearing, sitting up and blinking as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Realization washes over you.

Helaena.

She’d been taking a second dose of her sleeping medication ever since Aemond spoke with her psychiatrist. Had she missed a dose this evening? You quickly rise from your bed, not bothering to grab your robe and flinging open your door. 

The hallway is dark, and no moonlight spilling through the windows tonight. You reach out, holding onto the wall as a guide as you move further down the hallway. 

A shuffling noise behind you makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your breath hitches and you turn around, staring into the dark behind you. You can’t see anything, just pitch black. You should’ve left a light on in your room, something to anchor you. Your hands begin to tingle as adrenaline speeds the beating of your heart. 

There’s nothing but darkness, you assure yourself, the dark can’t hurt you.

But you can’t shake the feeling that as you look down the hallway, someone….or something…is looking back.

You release a shaky breath, turning back around. Something moves toward you, this time you’re certain. And suddenly a hand covers your mouth blocking the scream that rises in your throat and slamming you into the wall. It's not too hard, just enough for your shoulder blades to make a solid thump against the wood. 

Aemond catches your fist in his opposite hand as you attempt to strike him, pushing your wrist back against the wall above your head. Your eyes widen when you realize it's him, cheeks blazing with rage and embarrassment, your body sagging with relief. 

His hand remains on your mouth, though for a moment you’re sure it’s your scream tearing through the halls. Your stomach drops at the agonized wail and you squeeze your eyes shut. Aemond’s hand slides down until your chin rests in the space between his thumb and forefinger. His fingers are pressed so tightly against your throat you’re sure he must be able to feel your fluttering pulse. 

“Hela--,” you begin to speak but are cut off by the return of his hand over your mouth. 

“Shhh,” Aemond insists, as your eyebrows crease with confusion.

You mumble incoherently against his palm, lips pressing against the calloused flesh. Aemond presses closer, his tall slender frame towering over you. You cease trying to talk, your thoughts muddled as the warmth of his body presses against you. Aemond dips his head so his lips rest against the shell of your ear. 

“That’s not Helaena.”

It would be intimate, sensual even, if it weren’t for the words he spoke in that low whisper. A feeling of dread washes over you like a bucket of ice water. 

“Shh,” he says once more, his lips grazing your ear, “Close your eyes. Stay very, very still.”

You don’t dare move, you don’t dare speak; you simply do as you’re told, squeezing your eyes shut. Trembling against him your fingers dig into his arm while the other remains trapped in his grasp over your head. Fear burns in your belly, so hot it's as though someone is stoking a fire right in front of you.

Aemond presses closer, your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest, nipples hardening at the stimulation through the thin material of your tank top. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so frightened. Your heart is beating like a rabbit’s foot, and you try to listen to the sound of Aemond’s breathing in your ear as some way of grounding yourself. 

A groan echoes from down the hall. 

Your grip on him tightens.

“It’s alright,” Aemond murmurs, his voice barely audible, “We’ll just let them pass.”

Your breathing stops.

Let them? Let what? Let who?

The heat intensifies around you, colors bursting behind your eyelids as though someone is shining a light on the pair of you, though you don’t dare open your eyes. You cling to Aemond’s command like a life raft despite your morbid curiosity. 

You don’t know how long you stay like that before the light begins to fade, the warmth leached from your skin as whatever passed you moved on. The hall is silent, your ears are ringing and all you can hear is each shaky inhalation of your breath. It’s not enough. It feels like all the air has been sucked from the hall like you’ll never breathe again.

“Y/N.”

What was that?

“Open your eyes.”

His voice. Aemond’s voice. The only thing that makes sense.

You open your eyes.

The hall is dark and you blink, adjusting. Aemond releases your hand and your arm falls, slightly sore and tingling with pins and needles from being held above your head for so long. He uncovers your mouth as well, taking a step back.

“Are you alright?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice. 

You don’t answer, frozen. Aemond cups both of your cheeks in his hands, thumbs smoothing away tears that fall. You hadn’t realized you’d been crying. Aemond’s brows knit together and you bring your hands to his wrists. 

“What was that?” you whisper, voice hoarse.

Aemond’s expression is pained. 

“There are things I haven’t told you about Harrenhal,” he says softly, releasing your face.

“What kind of things?”

“Unpleasant ones,” he continues.

You hold his gaze. If there was ever a chance to run from the manor screaming, this was it. Aemond watches you as though he expects you to run, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You know him already, know that if you chose to leave he wouldn’t follow you. He’s used to doing things on his own. It’s all he’s ever known.

It’s your choice.

Aemond lifts his eyes to meet yours as you reach for his hand. His fingers release automatically at your touch and you weave them through your own, holding tightly, anchoring yourself to him.

“Let’s get some tea then,” you tell him, “I want to know everything.”

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[lovelykhaleesiii]

ok but chubby!Aeg with a new wife reader and him just fucking her constantly with a breeding kink and barely letting her out of his chambers until his family finds her would be incredible...

And good luck with your period beautiful, it seems I'm headed there as well

sorry for the delayed response lovely, hope you are better now xox this ask is delicious, thank you for sending it in! any type of Aeg with a breeding kink is something else...

Duty to the Realm.

PAIRING: chubby!King!Aegon ii Targaryen x Queen!fem!Reader

WORDS: 3,522.

WARNINGS: arranged marriage, breeding kink, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, slightly cruel!Aegon ii, female receiving (f*ingering), edging, overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming, swearing, posessive!Aegon, p in v sexual intercourse, mentions of pregnancy/birth.

A/N - I may have gotten carried away a little bit, but that's okay. shoutout for my bitchass anon, that seems to be OBSESSED with me, enjoy reading and hating on this asshole.

​​The marital duty expected of the woman to the man was one of a common, natural phenomena, that many in the realm would often not bat an eye to, yet one that held great anticipation for you, in your case. Particularly considering, your lawful husband was no other than the sole King of the Seven Kingdoms. An heir was the ultimate and primary responsibility, expected of you both to fulfil. A royal decree and order of the Faith.

He was to bed you as much as it pleased your Sire, as you were to carry and birth as many lively heirs as possible, blessed as the Gods saw fit. Your anointed Septas had spoken to you countlessly to this coming night, and your dearest mother before her untimely passing: all reinstating the other, that childbirth was no easy game. A duty of womankind and also an honour. To be blessed by the Mother herself, with the gift to carry and birth healthily.

Nonetheless, arrangements made, your House meticulously selected, as your husband to be, Aegon the Second of his name, had been thoroughly consulted by his liege council, thought that the most viable candidate to bear the shared responsibility of carrying out the infamous Targaryen dynasty, was you. Now that the Dance had come to its long-awaited end, Aegon the ultimate successor, reparations needed to be made and lines secured for the generations forthcoming.

The wedding was a swift and grandiose occasion: rich food and wine, opulent gifts and crowds [many faces unfamiliar to yourself] gathered in abundance, the union was legitimised by the Faith of the Seven, binded by law. Aegon scarcely spoke to you during the special occasion besides catching his lingering, lilac eyes fleeting over towards you. Strangely you had also noticed, Aegon would not allow for you to speak for yourself. Often promptly intercepting, answering general questions and well wishes on your behalf, before a peep escaped your reddened lips: you found it odd and somewhat harrowing.

It was an ambivalent feeling, as though Aegon acknowledged your physical presence, yet refused to grant you the privilege to speak nor appreciate you? You felt trivial against his stance, nothing more than a vessel at his complete disposal. You came to the haste, haunting conclusion of neglect... "Aegon does not love me."

Aegon took you to bed that dreadful night, ruling against his Council for a meek audience to be present. He vowed a promise, his lingering words "the deed will be done" remained echoing in your thoughtlessly numb mind.  The door locked as Aegon saw to it himself, no words spared other than fleeting glances, as he took a swift swing of his Dornish wine that accompanied him, as he departed from the feast with you. Observing Aegon this near, his authority in the realm, was not the only quality in him that held a substantially formidable presence...

Unlike his younger brothers, Aegon was fuller in size. His stocky thighs and legs accentuated in size by the tightly fitted breeches, was accompanied by a portly round stomach that looked tense and swollen from the delectable wedding feast and drinking. Not that you had much of an appetite that evening, however, Aegon did not halt when a full serving was laid in front of him, nor the seconds that he demanded for, or a slice of the exquisite cake. One thing you had noticed tonight that you had never heard of before, was that Aegon had an impressive appetite. Whether it was from the nerves of having to bed a woman he scarcely knew, or the undeniable, looming fear of failing to provide an heir, he ate intensely and seemed to enjoy himself rather. The way he'd savour his last few bites, eyes rolling back in satisfaction, how he did not shy away from sculling two full pitchers worth of wine [yet remained stable on his feet and wickedly alert]. Although, a strange, yearning sensation began to churn below, a dull ache growing stronger right between your inner thighs, as you fleetingly observed Aegon's large hand tenderly palming over his distended belly. Close enough in his proximity, you heard an occasional low belch escape from Aegon's plump, greasy lips, poorly attempting to muffle his discomfort with a tight fist over his mouth.

Now in the privacy of your shared, royal chambers, his arms looked strong and sturdy: the flesh of his fingers pooling tightly around his precious rings. Although his face was wildly handsome as most Targaryen men beared celestial-like attributes, history would tell. The ruggedness remaining evident from blatant, healing scars strewed across the side of his cheek and forehead, proof of the recent battles he had bravely fought and won, did not hinder your undeniable attraction towards him. And yet, there was also a softness to his features, the flesh of his jaw ample and blurred, his cheeks plump.

You prayed in that very moment, that Aegon was just as pleased about you, as you were with him.

Undressing himself off his fine fabrics, lashing the pieces onto the floor as though they cost nothing, your tense body froze completely, as Aegon took slow strides towards you. Only inches apart, his rough hands snaking their way behind your illustrious gown, untying the strings effortlessly, as though this was not the first time he had bedded a woman.

"You know what is expected of you," Aegon firmly uttered, his tone unfaltering and deep, you felt your body grow rigid, as his rough hands met your bare skin, the gown loosely falling off your body.

Your naked body rigid, and mind frail, you could not muster the valour to respond timely, seemingly infuriating Aegon.

"Speak woman, use your words for me."

Feeling his thumb simultaneously flicking at your sensitive, perked nipple, sent shivers down your spine, his fierce, glowing eyes cursing from your breasts to your timid face.

"Y-Yes, my dear," You delicately stuttered, your sullen breath hitching in your throat, as you tried to focus solely on fixating your gaze on Aegon and not daring to look to the ground.

"Hmm, therefore you realise what is expected of me, yes? As your dutiful husband and as the King of the Seven Kingdoms, you understand what I must do to you, yes?"

Aegon's hand that was previously occupied playfully kneading and teasing your breast, now sneaked below to your waist, along with his other, his fingertips firmly tightening around the curves for your hips. His head tilted down, lowering his taller height to meet yours, as his lips found their way melting over your flushed skin.

"Y-Yes my King. Y-Yes, Aegon. A child I must bear, an heir... As many heirs as you see fit my King, I will do as you ask, as you please."

A low growl etched from Aegon's throat, animalistic even, as they momentarily broke free from you, as his thumb now gently grazing over your blush cheek and shut lips.

"Together we share this burden, but rest assured, my dear. I will do everything in my power to ensure the Kingdom has an heir. If that means fucking you day and night, sealing you in this room and chaining you to this bed then so be it. Till your dripping proudly of my seed until you take. Not until I see your belly swell greatly with my babe growing inside, may I let you roam the halls freely once more. Understood?"

"Understood."

That night Aegon took you to bed with caution and great intent. He was effortless in handling you, guiding and adjusting your body according to his positions, lifting and carrying you as though you weighed nothing more than a feather. Kissing you abundantly and with passion, often suckling at your tender flesh around your neck and breasts, you felt the spots that he had latched onto growing sore. His eager mouth occupied, his free hand found its way to your cunt, now moist with excitement, throbbing for something more. He remained generous, inserting two of his longest, thick digits inside, pumping himself in a steady, slow pace, feeling your keen walls stretching mildly, clenching around the base of his knuckles, the deeper he plunged himself in. With each helpless moan that slipped from your mouth that he earned, the deeper he shoved himself in, feeling a slick smirk spread against your neck.

"That's it, my love. You don’t even need to tell me just how bad you need your King to fuck you, I can practically feel your body begging for me, baby."

Countless more breathless moans escaped your lips that you'd desperately bit shut, that you could no longer resist. The silent void of the room gradually filling with the natural sounds of lust, as you stuttered and whimpered your King's name aloud.

"Ugh- A-Aeg. I need my King n-now. I w-want my Aeg-"

"Fuck-" Aegon spat, his teeth softly biting down on the ample flesh of your breast, tugging at your tender skin, causing a sharp jolt of pain to shock you, before letting loose. All the while unknowing to you, your Grace had a third digit inserted deep within your walls, his fist now coated in your pooling wetness, oozing between the gaps of your entrance, as his pace had hasten, his thick fingers deeply inside pumping and pushing against the natural tightness of your enclosure. The strange, dense weight and friction of his fingertips rousing against your sensitive clit.

"That's right. Warming you up so, yet it seemed you were already a soaking mess for me, my love.”

Muffled moans as you weakly attempted to fight the urge to scream and beg for more. Aegon's wicked fingers inside, tormenting you as he quickened his pace and the ferocity of his motion. Your back arching lusciously, as your hips bucked upwards and back again, motioning for more.

"Think you are ready for me, baby? Think you are ready to take my cock, till I fuck you full of my hot seed. Are you ready to be a mother?"

"Y-Yes, Aeg!" You breathlessly yelp, your hands having instinctively found their way to his platinum locks, the mottled strands caught in your fingers, as you grasped and pulled at his roots. As your arms outstretched below your sides, your breasts naturally shoved and pressed together in unison, accentuating your obvious cleavage more so, that Aegon helplessly found himself tempted. Only a second bypassed, before the bulky King found himself crawling further up atop your yielding body, with great effort, huffing and puffing as he subtly caught his breath, before burying his handsome face between, suckling at your hard, perky nipples. His heavy, round belly laid sprawled against your own abdomen, feeling his clothed, rigid cock beneath his tight pants, the tense bulge probing at your inner thigh walls.

"Soon these will be greatly full of the Mother's blessed milk, and I will relish myself with the spoils of my babe growing inside. Knowing that it was all my undoing, that made you so. Gods be good, they will be full enough, practically leaking from the vast supply. Our babes will be well fed, and I, too, hmm."

"A-Aeg, I need you. F-Fuck a babe into me, a-and I shall feed and fuck you, a-as you please."

"Mhmm, my good, pretty wife. Already at my mercy-"

Feeling the rush movements of Aegon's free hand below [as the other remained steadying himself], you had no sense of what was occurring below, nor could you see, as his stout belly blocked your view. Yet the sudden, grazing sensation of his moist, hard cock teasing at the entrance of your wet, throbbing folds, you could bear it no more.

"You promise you can take me, baby? Show me how well of an obedient wife you can be, just as much of a pretty one you are."

No warning and no remorse, Aegon shoved his thick, stiff cock into your aching, tight cunt. Despite Aegon's perilous efforts of 'warming you up', nothing amounted to the concoction of sheer ecstasy and pain that coarsed through your veins, as your King's cock, stretched you out, pushing your limits beyond comfort. And yet, you could feel the familiar, dull throbbing sensation growing more palpable by the second: desperately trying to clench around the girth of his fat, bulky circumference, your nails digging into the plump adipose flesh of his broad shoulders and back, as you remained stagnant and tense around him.

"That's it, baby- Fuck. D-Doing so, so well for me. I can just fucking feel how tight you really are around me, fuck! L-Let me just break into you, easy, easy now-"

Moaning cries and whimpers filled Aegon's ears, yet he remained focused. His pace although messy and sloppy was steady, slowly slowly, thrusting himself as equipped as his larger frame would allow him, his solid weight weighing him down against you, you move no further than squirm with remaining, great effort. Feeling his pulsating cock inside, striking adamantly against your cervix, and the pressure of his swollen, distended gut, pressing from above, with each passing second as you felt an immense, stimulating arousal brewing from below. The fierce, physical tensity of Aegon's size inside and out, was invigorating, as your body obediently attempted to adjust to your husband's size.

"Good-Good wife. That's it, baby, I'm going to cum any second now. Fuck this pretty, tight cunt of yours was needy for her King to spoil. I can feel how desperate you are for my babe, huh?"

"Y-Yes, Aeg-"

"I'm going to keep you locked up, all for myself. Till I can fuck as many heirs as I see fit. U-Until this entire quarter is full of our babes, till the realm can hear their cries. You and this tight cunt of yours are not leaving. Not until I'm fucking satisfied. All mine, now."

"Of-Of course, my King-"

"Fuck, Y/N, was I right about you, huh? Obedient from the start, you greedy, little brat, you wanted this just as much as I. Could you imagine yourself as I did, only full of my royal seed, only you worthy to take me."

"O-Only me. M-Made just for you, Aeg, as the Gods deemed it."

"No, woman. I deemed it. I made the decision. I wanted you. O-Only this cunt to take my seed, these hips to grow wide for the birth, and this belly to swell proudly. Till I see these tits leak and you waddling around, begging me to hold and carry you, this was all my undoing from the start. I am the King, the closest thing to the Gods, and farthest from men."

"Th-Then I am eternally at your mercy and will. M-My beloved-"

As you felt the tense excitement sparking below, the invigorating relief as your wetness had reached a peaking climax, the shudder of chills that echoed through your body, the momentum evaporated, as you twitched and felt feeble against Aegon’s sturdy build. Your wetness drenching his cock, as it once more, oozed heavily against your folds and inner thighs. Aegon's immediate, instinctive release adjunct to your own, earned a mouthful of deep, growling moans and breathless swears from the King himself in relief. His hot, ample seed shot through inside, painting your inner walls, as you felt his body weight drop even more against you, all energy exerted.

Shifting himself to your side, as to not suffocate you against his bulky frame, embracing your flustered, exhausted self in his strong arms, his twitching, thick cock, however remained buried inside.

"Tonight we shall remain united as man and woman, like so. Heed my words earnestly, Y/N. Until I see this belly grow round and full, you will stay in this chamber, until I say otherwise. You obey no other orders unless directly from me, understood? I will send maids to help you, you will not lift a single finger so long as you are my wife. You answer to no one but me.”’

Feeling your nod against his plump, meaty chest. Aegon’s hands found their way to your unkempt, loose hair. Brushing the strands off your sweaty, blush face. Although his words were stern and mildly threatening, his actions remained tender.

“B-But what if the Gods do not see me fit to mother your heirs? W-what if I am… What if I am barren, my King?”

Aegon’s silence was eerily unnerving, although his breath did not hitch in shock of your sudden question, his breathing now regained to stability, remained unfaltering as he contemplated.

“You are my wife, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. If anyone wishes to question your purpose in my life, regardless of whom, will answer to me… The King. And they will anguish as I see fit.”

The bright days and chill nights had passed since the wedding night. Aegon, committed to his promise, whenever his duty fulfilled and time free, he would return to you, only to embrace you, love you and fuck you. Proudly filling you day and night full of a fresh batch of his seed, despite practically still being a drenching mess from when he had last left you. Servants attended to your every need: when he felt he had you exhausted, pushed to your limits, your body delicate and tiresome eyes drifting off to a deep slumber. He would let you be, only sharing close proximity as he embraced you cozily. He ordered the chefs to have your supper and meals sent piping hot, in a timely manner and occasionally found himself joining you in attendance, than his own family feasts. A table set up for the both of you, an intimate quiet dinner between a husband and his wife. He much preferred your company, anyways.

His family, more often the Dowager Queen and Hand, himself, promptly questioned Aegon regarding your whereabouts, he would disclose to you.

“At one point my dear mother had feared you’d run away,” Aegon chuckled, as he scoffed a piece of his roast down, followed by a scull of his wine.

“And what if I had? Would you let me be, or have Ser Arryk sent out to seek me out, dear husband?”

Aegon’s familiar eyes flashed towards you instantly, although the longing, tender look was replaced with a cold, menacing pierce.

“Go against this union, means you go against my decision… The decision of your King. I would send out a whole battalion if need be, and when I have you in my grasp, I will rid you of this luxury and see to it that I lock you up in one of the cells below the Red Keep. Fuck you like a common whore, and summon you like a predator to its prey. Until I’m certain you’ve learnt your lesson… Now are you still tempted to run?”

Shaking your head promptly, Aegon’s half-hearted smirk was enough to ease the tension. With all the intimacy involved, you had both gradually become quite comfortable with one another, enough to speak your minds, as Aegon often urged from you on your behalf. Although, only between you two. He firmly ordered for servants and guards alike, to be absent during your shared moments, in an attempt to ease you into speaking with confidentiality and also, to avoid whispers being spread. After the Dance, Aegon was often sceptical of people’s intentions, considering all the treachery he’d been exposed to during the early years of his reign.

Regardless, it was Aegon who was the first to notice subtle changes, only adding it all up when you had meekly disclosed to him that you had not bled in the past two months. Immediately he sought a guard to fetch for the maester and soon enough, his long-awaited wishes had been confirmed.

Aegon often watched over you more intensely now, his eyes ogling over your swelling belly, how the waistline of your gown had grown slightly tighter around your stomach, and your breasts looking fuller, more sensitive under his teasing touch. Relieved, however it was far from the end for Aegon... The King himself, had become even more brutally protective over you, and the babe inside, still adamant on keeping you confined, rested and guarded.

"No harm will come towards you or the babe, so long as I breathe and rule."

He even had Sunfyre tenaciously fly above your tower, granting him peace of mind that no threat could overpower the fury of a dragon.

Nonetheless, the Gods had blessed you to full term, and a healthy babe was born. A son, a true embodiment of the Targaryen dynasty, and the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Aegon was beyond sated that you and the babe had recovered from the gruelling nature of birth, and seldom to his words, he allowed you free to roam, with the newborn warmly nestled in your arms, and Aegon relentlessly by your side. That was until, the King felt the desire for yet another heir to be proclaimed."Need I remind you of our wedding night, my beloved... You promised your King as many heirs. It is only natural as a true-born Targaryen, that I take what is mine."

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe

credit for divider - @/babesindestroyland

[onabat11e]

just wanna feel your lips against my skin

A/N: if you get deja vu, i’m sorry! @onathinker beat me to but encouraged me to finish/post my fic anyways so here we are 🫶 - pls go read hers also if you haven’t yet !!

rating: E for explicit (18+)

tags: smut, phone sex, dirty talk

summary: ona and lucy celebrate after ona’s goal in the esp vs ned game.

word count: 3.3k

AO3 Link

Lucy should have really been paying attention to her teammates playing earlier today. And she should really be with them now, celebrating their 7-2 win against Austria. Still, she constantly finds herself keeping an eye on the Spain vs Netherlands score during the last minutes.

When Ona scores in the 77th minute, Lucy has to fight the smile that is starting to creep onto her cheeks. She grabs a beer before joining the celebrations, laughing and dancing with the other England players. She loses track of time momentarily, trying to give herself the time to let loose for once. However, the sounds of the England squad celebrating together are drowned out shortly when Lucy feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. 

Ona: Back in my room now, call me! x 

Lucy mutters an excuse to Lauren James about being tired or wanting to rest for further training tomorrow. Honestly, she’s just saying anything that will allow her to leave the commotion behind so she can talk to Ona. 

On her way back to their accommodation, she replies to Ona’s text and lets her know she’ll phone soon. It’s not long before she gets there, settling down on her bed before she promptly presses the FaceTime Video button. It only rings twice before the sound of the call connecting plays. Ona’s smiley face pops up on the screen, looking freshly showered with still-damp hair falling past her shoulders. 

“Hi, baby,” Lucy coos, feeling her chest warm as she takes in Ona’s beauty. “Didn’t wanna go join your team to celebrate?” She knew that the Spanish girls loved celebrating their victories, Ona being no exception to the tradition. 

Ona loves football, she loves Spain, and she loves representing her country. But above everything, at this point in her life, she loves Lucy and their blossoming relationship.

“Hi, my love,” Ona returns the greeting, “I joined them for a drink. But I wanted to talk to you. And shower, obviously” She runs a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. Lucy can tell that Ona had had more than ‘a drink’ from her giggly manner, but she decides not to push the topic. 

“Well, I saw that a certain someone scored tonight,” Lucy coolly says as if she wasn’t glued to her phone the entire time, keeping herself updated as much as she could without getting caught out by teammates. Ona could feel the happiness in Lucy’s voice and the twinkle in her eye that somehow managed to shine through the quality of the video call. 

“I scored, I assisted, and I got player of the match. Thank you very much,” Ona gasps, using a mock tone of arrogance to wind her girlfriend up. Lucy rolls her eyes and breathes a laugh in response, completely used to Ona’s antics by now. 

“Mhm, you did so well tonight. I’m proud of my girl,” Lucy praises Ona, being met with a shy giggle. Ona loves getting referred to as Lucy’s girl, even on a non-sexual level. Something about knowing that they belong together makes Ona’s heart swell.

“You know I find it so hot when you score. Wish I could have been there to celebrate with you,” Lucy finds herself hating the distance again, wanting to feel Ona’s body under her, feel her warmth next to her. She just wants to spend time with Ona and share the happiness of her win. 

Both of them hated any sort of distance between them — it always brought about a painful reminder of when they first started talking. They had fallen into a habit of never spending a night apart, going back and forth between each other's apartments. 

“I know, but the international break will be over before you know it, and then we can celebrate together,” Ona giggles shyly, knowing their usual ritual of rewarding each other when one scores or plays exceptionally well.

“Who says we can’t celebrate over the phone?” Lucy suggests, raising an eyebrow at Ona. Phone sex wasn’t a completely foreign concept to them, the two having previously done long distance. It had helped them back then, but it had also been a while since they indulged in the act.

“Lucy!” Ona half-jokingly scolded her girlfriend and her dirty mind. She tried to ignore her body’s physical reaction but couldn’t help the heat rising to her cheeks at the idea. 

“I’m serious. You deserve to feel good,” Lucy felt smug seeing Ona blush at her suggestion. “Just a shame I can’t be there to be the one to do it for you.” 

Ona feels her stomach tighten at the thought of touching herself over the phone to Lucy. Just knowing that either of their teammates could catch them enhanced her excitement.

Lucy immediately picked up on Ona’s reaction, the telltale signs that her girlfriend was getting turned on. Ona licked over her bottom lip before sucking it in between her teeth, her eyes averting their gaze as her mind wandered. A deeper blush rose under the constellation of freckles that marked her cheeks and nose. 

“Yeah? You’re into that, aren’t you; you want me to tell you exactly how to fuck yourself?” Lucy’s voice pulled Ona from her daydream, poking fun at the girl's speechlessness. Ona rolled over, groaning and planting her face into the pillow to hide her embarrassment. Lucy waited for Ona to stop being a giggling mess and reply to her question. 

“Yessss,” She confesses, bringing her phone back to her face. Lucy has the cockiest smirk on her face, no doubt being pleased with herself for getting such a rise out of Ona with just a few words.

“Good. I wanna hear how needy you get when you’re about to cum,” Lucy readjusts herself in bed, sitting up to lean back on the pillows. “Think you can do that for me?” 

“Please,” Ona whines, “Need to touch myself. Wanna cum for you,” She squeezes her thighs together, desperate for any relief from the growing pulse between her legs. 

“Not yet. Show me them perfect tits first,” Lucy licks her lips. Lucy was obsessed with Ona’s body, her boobs being far up the list of her favourite parts of Ona. They were her top place to mark, leaving bruises and love bites as little reminders to Ona of who she belonged to. 

Ona drops her phone and quickly pulls her shirt over her head to show Lucy her bare chest. Her nipples perk up when they meet with the cool air of the room. Ona grabs her phone again, leaning her chest into the camera for Lucy to see.

“I miss your mouth on them,” Ona says as she cups her hand against the ample flesh, squeezing herself into the camera. There’s a shuffle on the other end of the FaceTime call as Lucy struggles to slide her trousers down with one hand. She manages to kick off the sweatpants and spread her legs out to give herself more room.

“You’re so perfect. Play with your nipples for me,” Lucy’s voice is deep, commanding Ona. Ona obliges quickly, making a show of tweaking and rubbing her nipples in front of the camera. 

“Fuck, Ona,” Lucy moans, squeezing her thighs together at the view of Ona’s chest through the call. Ona brings her hand to her mouth, sucking on her fingers and making eye contact with the camera. 

The visual sent a pang of pleasure racing to Lucy’s pussy. Ona’s warm eyes lock onto hers through the screen as she continues to suck greedily on her fingers, humming slightly before pulling them out. 

Ona tilts her phone towards her chest again, bringing the saliva to one of her nipples and rubbing over it. She arched her back into the touch, the slickness intensifying her pleasure. As her smooth fingers rub and flick against herself, Ona pictures that they’re Lucy’s tongue. She groans, moving her hand over to the other side, knowing how much Lucy enjoyed taking her time with each nipple. 

“Just like that,” Lucy groaned, sending a hand down to her crotch to push against her clit. She clenches her jaw, the pressure getting slowly relieved. She starts circling over the sensitive area, not bothering to remove her underwear. 

“I miss you so bad. Wanna watch your tits bounce as I fuck you into the mattress,” Ona shakes her chest at the screen, tweaking a nipple between her pointer and middle finger again. 

“I’m so wet for you,” Ona whined, showing Lucy her hand trailing lower, resting at the waistband of her underwear. Lucy can just about make out a small darkened patch on Ona’s underwear, the visual evidence of how desperate Ona is to touch herself. 

“Play with your clit for me,” Ona is eager to obey, her fingers sliding under the fabric quickly to meet the growing heat. She rubs through the pooling wetness, her hips bucking up to meet the touch. 

“Joder. I need you,” Ona bites back at the noises threatening to come out of her mouth as she creates tight circles around her throbbing clit, already eager for more. 

“Wanna see you,” Lucy commands, “Take off your panties and show me.” Ona fumbles with the material, sliding it down past her thighs, then her knees, finally letting the garment fall onto the floor. 

Ona spreads her thighs wider, showing Lucy the glimmering arousal between her legs. She uses two fingers to spread her pussy open, her clit and hole on show. Her hips involuntarily buck towards the camera, begging for friction.

“I wanna hear how good it feels, baby,” Ona bites down on her bottom lip. One of her fingers rubs up the wetness travelling up to slowly teasing the tip of her clit. 

“I’m scared the other girls will hear,” She kept her voice low, half listening out in case anyone were to walk in on her in this compromising position. 

“Don’t care. Let ‘em know that you’re mine. Let ‘em know that I own your cunt.” Lucy’s blunt tone causes Ona to let out a guttural moan, feeling her pussy throbbing against her fingers in response. 

“Finger yourself – think about how good I fuck you,” Lucy continues to rub herself, feeling the wetness growing as she watches Ona, the camera focusing on her abdomen and pussy. 

“No one could ever fuck me as good as you,” Ona mewls, bucking into her hand as she pushes a single finger into herself. It’s not enough. She misses the feeling of Lucy’s strong hands gripping her chest, her hips, and her legs. She misses Lucy’s warm mouth exploring her body and sucking on her, leaving wet trails down her abs and between her thighs. 

“Wish I was there, filling up your perfect pussy with my fingers,” Lucy growls, feeling possessive over Ona’s pussy and her orgasms. Even though Lucy isn’t physically there to make Ona cum, she still maintains control by instructing Ona on exactly how to pleasure herself. 

“Need more,” Ona pants into the phone, tilting it to look at Lucy for permission. Her eyes are wide as she pleads, feeling her pussy flutter, greedily to be filled up, desperate to be pounded into. 

“Add another finger – stretch yourself out for me,” Lucy commands, Ona letting her head fall back into the pillows at the pleasure of the subtle stretch of adding a finger. 

“You’re so good for me, baby. Keep fucking yourself,” Lucy encourages Ona, closely watching as she follows every order. Lucy strokes a finger through her own wetness before pushing in and out of herself, curving her finger against her sensitive spots as she does so. 

“I’m close,” Ona cries out, her thighs beginning to weaken and shake, “Need to cum so bad,” She draws her words out, moans getting caught in her throat as the pressure builds. 

“Don’t cum,” Lucy demands, rubbing herself quicker before adding, “Not yet. Be a good girl and wait for me.” Lucy clenches her jaw, focusing on Ona’s body, picturing how Ona would feel underneath her. Lucy’s fingers pick up their pace, and the lewd sounds echoing through the phone drive the coil in her abdomen to tighten. 

“Please,” Ona whimpers, begging as she can feel her orgasm threatening to boil over. She feels dizzy, her mouth opening and panting as she urges her body to not cum, no matter how close she is. Something about obeying Lucy by exactly doing what the older woman tells her to makes everything feel more intense. 

“Fuck, okay, I’m getting close too,” Lucy groans, her arm straining to fuck herself faster. She can feel her abdomen tightening, the melodic sounds of Ona whining as she forces herself to wait for Lucy to allow her to finish. 

“I can’t hold it anymore,” Ona is needy, her fingers slowing to stop herself from teetering over the edge. She pulls out of herself, dragging her fingers up to tease gentle circles around only the tip of her clit. It’s just enough pressure to keep herself right on the edge of her climax. 

“Shit. Cum for me,” Lucy says just before she lets herself reach her peak. Ona whines loudly down the phone, grinding against her hand and letting her orgasm wash over her. It’s not perfect. Ona falls over the edge first, letting Lucy’s name fall from her mouth, voice breaking with whimpers and the sheer pleasure washing over her body. 

Ona already knows she’s making a mess of the bedsheets, but it feels too good, the slick warmth dripping down the soft flesh of her inner thighs as she cums on her own hand. 

The sight of Ona’s blissful face and flexing muscles pushes Lucy to cum. The mess of hair, her head falling back, jaw slack. Lucy thrusts into her hand hard, thinking about Ona taking her dick, thinking about Ona’s fluttering pussy cumming around her strap. Her hips lift off the bed, shuddering and slowing down as she works herself through the orgasm. 

When Lucy looks back to her phone, she can see Ona’s wide eyes watching her, admiring the view of her coming down from her high. Lucy chuckles slightly, taking in Ona’s dropped jaw and the fire in her eyes. 

“You good?” Lucy clears her throat before questioning Ona, noticing the girl chewing on her bottom lip. Ona looks shy, almost guilty. Ever since the two had been living in Barcelona together, phone sex had been a thing of the past. Sure, the two had exchanged steamy messages now and then, but they had done nothing as explicit as this for a while.

“Mmm, I’m fine.” She pauses for a beat, looking to be unsure, before continuing, “It’s just never as good as when you do it,” Ona confesses, trying to ignore the motion of Lucy’s lips curling up into a smug smile at the comment. 

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna fuck you so good when we’re back together,” Lucy promises. “I’ll have to make up for lost time.” Lucy is already fantasising about being back with Ona, the things that she wants to do with her- to her. 

“Oh yeah? Is that so?” Ona takes her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling her body heat up in response to Lucy’s words again. 

“Mhmm, can’t wait to bend you over my lap. Play with your pussy and show you exactly how well you deserve to be fucked.” Lucy looks down at Ona through the phone, her eyelids heavy and eyes dark with lust once more. Ona clenches her jaw, feeling her heart beat harder at the thought. 

“Stop. You’re gonna get me all worked up again,” Ona whines, bringing a hand over her face to hide the evident embarrassment. 

“What? Horny little baby needs to cum again already?” Lucy teases Ona, knowing that it is rare for Ona to only cum once. Lucy liked to tease Ona about being a greedy bottom, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy Ona’s high sex drive. 

“You say that like it’s not your fault!” Ona said in a pointed tone; she couldn’t not blame Lucy when she said things like that. Of course she is going to get a reaction out of Ona by doing so. 

“Not my fault that my girlfriend is talented as well as insanely hot? Yeah, I’d say I agree with that,” Lucy jokes, releasing a breathy laugh. Ona rolls her eyes at Lucy and brings the conversation back to where she wanted it. 

“Go on then, what else are you gonna do to me?” Ona beckons before letting her hand slip back between her legs. Her swollen clit twitches from the light touches of fingers running through the remnants of her prior orgasm. 

“I wanna kiss every inch of you, worship that beautiful body of yours,” Lucy let her voice drop an octave once more, a thick lust dripping from her voice. Ona’s jaw slackens as her fingers quicken across her clit. Choked-out whines echo from Lucy’s phone, Ona pressing against herself desperately.  

“Gonna lick and suck your tits,” Ona flashed the camera back to her chest again, shaking her breasts at Lucy and letting them bounce slightly. 

“I’d take my time, biting and nipping at all your favourite spots.” Lucy’s tongue ran over her bottom lip, picturing the marks she’d leave down Ona’s torso, the subtle flex of Ona’s abs under her lips as she did so. “Then I’ll rub my cock against your pussy, teasing until you’re just a needy mess, begging to be filled by me,” Lucy lists her actions, paying close attention to Ona and her reactions. 

“Need that so bad. I wanna be so full of you,” Ona pushes two fingers inside herself, immediately finding her sweet spot. Her arm pumped into herself as her head fell back, picturing the feeling of Lucy’s strap pounding into her. 

“I wanna make your tight little pussy cum all over my dick and then have you suck me off.” Lucy keeps up her dirty talk, watching as Ona rolls her hips upwards to meet the thrusts of her hand. 

“Wanna be good for you,” Ona begs submissively, urging Lucy to go on. Every word that comes out of the phone’s speaker sends pleasure bolting directly to Ona’s core. 

“I’d have you clean up all your juices off me. Then, I’d reward you and eat your cunt out,” The words coming out of Lucy’s mouth are beyond filthy, but, God, they’re sending Ona’s body and mind reeling. 

“Luce, keep going. I’m close,” Ona’s voice cracked, the desperation in her voice seeping through the words. Ona bucks her hips into her hand, feeling her clit rub against the palm of her hand as her fingers pump against the soft tissue. Ona is keening at the delicious stretch when she pushes a third finger into herself. 

“Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna moan out and let everyone know who your pussy belongs to?” Lucy encourages Ona, watching her eyebrows furrow with her rapidly approaching climax. Ona’s breathing quickens, her chest raising and falling with speed. 

“Fuck, Lucy,” Ona groaned, the words coming out louder than she had planned. “Cumming,” Ona manages to squeak out before her head falls back into the pillows, a string of curse words falling from her lips. She rocks her hips into her hand, fucking herself through her orgasm. 

Ona pants, trying to regain her breath as she comes down from her orgasm. It takes a moment for her body to calm, goosebumps rising from the contrast of her hot skin and the cool air of the room. 

“Look at you,” Lucy praises Ona, admiring the sweat shining on her forehead and dopey eyelids, heavy with bliss. “Feeling good?”

“Mmm, feeling great,” Ona murmurs, curling up on the bed and pulling the covers over herself to get comfortable.

“I love you, and I’m so endlessly proud of you,” Lucy confesses, letting a wide smile spread across her face.

“I love you, too. See you soon, okay?” Ona mumbles sleepily. 

“Never soon enough,” Lucy pouted, “Goodnight, angel.” 

[heliads]

Hello lovely! I was wondering if you could please write an enemies to lovers Sirius x reader fanfic where they're always bickering and arguing but one day, reader seems rather numb and he makes an obnoxious comment like "Trouble in paradise, princess?" and they get mad and say "Oh, get f, Black! Easy for you to have a go, isn't it? Why do we always have to talk about my shitty life, Mr. Tell Me A Fucking Secret?" and the reader storms off and he finds out that they're brother died? Sorry if that doesn't make any sense and i fully understand if you don't want to do it. Don't forget to drink water and have a great day :) 💞

'an apology' - sirius black

masterlist

Everyone likes Sirius Black. Everyone but you, it seems. You’re not sure how in Merlin’s name he managed his widespread popularity. Maybe there was a secret prank of the Marauders a while back in which they jinxed everyone in the school to grow besotted with the long-haired, mischievous, good-for-nothing scoundrel, then accidentally forgot to cast the enchantment on you. It wouldn’t even be that unrealistic, except there’s absolutely no chance that Sirius hasn’t picked up on your disregard for him. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he enjoys it.

Of course he would. Of course Sirius Black, Quidditch star, Marauder, prankster extraordinaire, absolutely reckless and divinely insensible Sirius Black would get a kick out of riling you up. How could he not? It’s like it’s against his programming to do anything that makes sense.

The two of you have been clashing since the day you met. No matter where you are– walking to class, accidentally paired up for a class project, meandering through Hogsmeade– you and Sirius have a knack for finding each other even in the thickest of crowds, and then promptly wanting to murder each other. You squabble over small things, like tying one’s tie incorrectly, and big things too, like when Sirius pranked you too hard one time and it took the entirety of the Marauders and your friend group working in tandem to prevent a genuine slaughter.

Needless to say, every day in which you can avoid running into Gryffindor’s favorite troublemaker is a good one. Needless to say, in a small castle like Hogwarts, that task is pretty much impossible. Even when you pledge to yourself that you’re going to pick the high road and stop letting yourself get riled up by him, you still somehow manage to get yourself lodged in yet another petty dispute.

Today, though, you really don’t want to see him. You woke up this morning to terrible news from home. Professor McGonagall had called you into her office to deliver the solemn verdict herself. Although she can be a terrifying presence, you’re glad for her today. This way, there wasn’t anyone else around but her when you found out that your brother had died.

It seems impossible. You can picture your brother in your mind– laughing, smiling, running around– and the idea that he could be dead is nonsensical. You would know, you think. Surely you would know. If a bright light like your brother could be snuffed out overnight, you would have been able to feel it. Yet you didn’t, and the world is still spinning, and you are expected to get yourself up and keep on living even though your brother is no longer here. You’ll never be able to see him again, never hear him call your name whenever you go home. He’s gone, gone forever, and you can’t think about anything else but him.

Professor McGonagall, surprisingly, is a good person to help you with loss. She listens to you brokenly sob for a while, then lets you stay in her office for as long as you need to stop crying. She offers you some biscuits, which are only mildly stale, and offers to write you a note to get out of her class, at least, although she can’t speak to the rest of her fellow professors.

You thank her, then head out. Although the idea of curling up in your bed for the rest of the day and perhaps the rest of the year as well is quite tempting, you know that if you let yourself go into misery, you’ll never be able to claw yourself out. You decide to go on with the rest of your classes for the day, as much for the distraction of not being alone with your thoughts as anything else. 

You can quietly tell your friends what happened, and they’ll make sure nobody bothers you. Your brother died. Nothing seems to matter anymore. The idea that someone like Sirius Black might try to cause you trouble is almost laughable. Your brother is gone. What can a classroom bully possibly say to you to make this worse?

Sirius Black is getting bored again. He always starts idling halfway through Charms, anyway, but it’s not like that’s his fault. Flitwick should know better than to put oil lamps in front of his students, anyway; yes, they were supposed to be practicing discretion with their incendiary charms, but what does Sirius care about that? Besides, the fire he started only lit Peter’s sleeves on fire, and they managed to snuff that out pretty quick anyway. No damage done, not really.

By the time the day is halfway over, Sirius is itching for something interesting to happen. James is shaking his head and laughing at Sirius’ impatience, chiding him for not paying attention, but Sirius has seen his best friend’s eyelids drooping more than once today, so it looks like both of them are stifled for entertainment.

Sirius can tell that it’s gotten bad, because he’s hardly stepped out of the Great Hall after lunch when he spots Y/N L/N trailing down one of the corridors, and he actually starts grinning ear to ear. Y/N’s a fascinating person. They argue with Sirius like there’s no tomorrow. Sirius regards Y/N as an ever-changing maze to solve. Every time he thinks he’s hit a wall with ways to bother her, he finds something else. It’s delightful. He’s kind of obsessed with her.

So, upon seeing her, it should come as no surprise that Sirius would bid a hasty farewell to his friends and hurry to catch up with her. Usually, Y/N’s quick to shoot him a glare whenever she sees him, but this time she hardly seems to notice him when Sirius appears by her side. Strange, but he can change that.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” he says glibly. “I’ve missed you since I saw you yesterday, you know.”

Sirius pauses expectantly, waiting for Y/N to hit him with a rather devious comeback about how she’d rather walk over hot coals than willingly spend time in his company, but instead, she just keeps walking. Her shoulders are hunched, and her gaze is somewhat vacant, as if her mind were a thousand miles away. The quick thought flashes through Sirius’ mind that maybe she’s thinking about some guy, like maybe another student flirted with her earlier today and she’s distracted by it, and immediately his gut twists over with hot, white, irritation.

Fine, then. If she wants to ignore him, Sirius will make that impossible. He can up his game. “Tell me a secret,” Sirius drawls, each word slow and silvery like the smoke he loves so much, “What’s got a pretty face like yours looking so twisted up? I know it can’t be anything too terrible, I don’t think it’s possible for you to worry that sweet head over anything major. Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble in paradise, princess. I just won’t believe it.”

That does get Y/N to look at him, but the sharp glance she directs at him is full of not anger but pain, pure pain. “Shut up,” she hisses at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of messing with me? Easy for you to have a go, isn’t it? Why do you always have to dig into my life, Mr. Tell Me A Fucking Secret? Leave me alone.”

With that, Y/N abruptly turns and stalks down a nearby corridor. Sirius watches her leave with absolute astonishment. They’ve had some verbal sparring matches which have turned nasty, to be sure, but never before has she looked at him with that much loathing. Worse than that– Sirius swears that he’d caught sight of some tears in her eyes when she’d regarded him with such misery.

Impossible. Y/N has never actually been hurt by anything he’s said to her. Right? No, she hasn’t. Sirius would know. This must mean that something has happened, something bad. Across the corridor, Sirius catches sight of one of Y/N’s friends looking at the scene he’d just caused with great distress. When she realizes Sirius has noticed her, she makes to follow Y/N, but he quickly stands in her way to keep her there.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asks plainly. No use in beating around the bush.

Y/N’s friend looks away. “None of your business, Black. Y/N’s right, how about you leave her alone for the time being?”

Sirius swears he can feel something break in his chest, some tendon plucked like a bowstring. “What are you talking about? What do you know?”

Y/N’s friend tries to get away again, but when it becomes evident that Sirius will not be leaving without an explanation, she sighs and gives in. “Y/N found out this morning that her brother passed away.”

She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t have to say anything else. Instantly, Sirius feels rooted in place, struck by an awful wave of guilt. Y/N must be drowning in grief, and he’s just gone and teased her even worse. Merlin, she must hate him if she didn’t already.

When he looks up, he realizes that her friend is gone. Slowly, Sirius goes down the corridor he’d last seen Y/N, carefully checking every door and room in search of her. After a while, he finds her sitting on the ledge of a window, knees tucked up against her chest. The afternoon light falls on her face, revealing fresh tear tracks. Sirius’ heart thuds dully against his ribs, the unenviable guilt rising up to choke him once again.

She looks up when Sirius drifts closer, and her face twists. She flinches as if she’d like to run, but Sirius raises his hands hastily. “I’m not here to fight, honest. I wanted to apologize.”

Y/N regards him suspiciously. “Since when have you ever apologized?”

Sirius winces. “You’re right, I’ve been terrible. It’s just– Merlin, Y/N, I had no idea. I’m so sorry about your loss. I wouldn’t have said a thing if I had known, I promise.”

“So you would have been fine to belittle me like usual, but since you found out I– I lost my brother, you feel bad? Perfect. Now leave me alone.” She says tersely.

Sirius grimaces. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just– I have a brother too, you know? Even though we don’t quite get along, I can’t imagine losing him. The fact that you’re still able to get up and walk around is amazing to me. I think you’re really strong.”

Y/N stares at him, but some of the defensiveness is gone from her gaze. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirms. “This is a terrible thing to have happened to you, and I’m so sorry that you have to go through this. Losing family is awful. Just know– I’m here if you want to talk, alright? I know you probably hate me for everything, and I wouldn’t blame you for it, but if you want someone, I’ll be around.”

Y/N stays silent, and Sirius takes that as his cue to leave. Just as he turns to go, though, he hears a soft voice behind him. “You can stay.”

Sirius looks back at her hopefully. “Yeah?”

“I’ll allow it,” Y/N tells him, but the corner of her mouth starts to quirk up a little into a somber half-smile, so Sirius realizes that he’s okay again, that they’re okay again. It feels far better than he could have imagined.

He takes a seat on the ledge opposite Y/N, and they both look out over the view of the grounds below them. Or– Y/N does, really. Sirius is more distracted by the girl in front of him. There are some things he’s starting to realize about her, about how he feels about her. It’s a good thing he has her forgiveness, so he has the time to think a little more about it.

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