#I did not expect to be graced with more of your art and after a long day it is a DELIGHT

[ratstuckinamarble]

im gonna inflict you with the knowledge that, while doodling that diving griffin pic, i had Atemlos durch die Nacht (live in Munchen 2022) on repeat >:)

AND, the whole time the image in my head was something like this:

sorry Rat ^w^;

The gall! >:0

Well... Perhaps this Rat gave the version you mentioned a listen. And perhaps, it was not as bad as I remembered.

Maybe, just maybe, I was kinda grooving to that... But only in small amounts! I gotta keep this a very rare occasion as to not hate the song again XD

[chrollohearttags]

“silly boy, come find me when you’re older!” • a. artlert

synopsis: two lovers realize their relationship isn’t meant to be but that doesn’t mean they have to part ways forever..

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), age gap (2-3 years, armin is 19, reader is 21-22) college au-ish (armin is going to nursing school + reader is a business grad), star-crossed lovers trope, angst + comfort, missionary, riding, hand holding, heavy kissing, crying (not dacryphila), accidental creampie, pet names (baby, mama, baby boy, angel), drug mentions, he gets possessive for like .2 seconds.

word count: 3.1K

📝: I have been so in love with fluff and the idea of soft smut lately (maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s my hormones..who knows!) but this is a part of a new au I’m starting! A new story that’ll be coming out soon and I can’t wait. For now, enjoy one of several side fics to accompany it! Also, please tell me y’all know this title reference 😭

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“I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that…”

the phrase seemed to have alluded him yet again..slipping through one ear and out the next. Almost as if only his body was present and his mind and spirit were elsewhere. It was to be expected though..

“..armie..? Aren’t you going to say something, baby? Anything?..”

you had just confided in him quite possibly the worst thing ever. In truth, his heart was breaking and there wasn’t a single thing that either of you could do to mend it. Although, you felt solely responsible..that the reason for his pain was entirely your fault. But it was a necessary confession nonetheless. One that you truly believed would benefit you both. Distance. Distance between the two of you so that he could properly pursue his education. A long sought after dream of becoming a nurse. Following directly in his mother’s footsteps and making her proud..it was all Armin ever wanted. As it stood, that was a mere concept and it was thanks to the girl lying next to him. His sweet, beloved (y/n). The (y/n) he reunited with at a house party one night and had been wildly entangled with ever since. Hooking up, drinking and smoking…what most peers your age was doing but you also had bigger aspirations for both Armin and yourself. He wanted to become a registered nurse, working with children and you were already two years deep into your collegiate journey as a business major. Laser focused and ambitious..ready to conquer your goals. You couldn’t waste your lives away in the back of his car, hotboxing and having sex. As fun as this little whirlwind romance was, you had to cut things off. At least for the foreseeable future..for both of your sakes. It wasn’t an easy decision in the slightest and you were far more torn up by the situation than what you were letting on but it had to be done. Regardless of your emotions..

“..I just don’t understand..I mean, is there someone else? Why don’t you want me anymore?…”

there it was..underneath all of those newly etched tattoos, shaggy blonde locks and suave charm lied that sweet, gentle boy. The same nerdy kid you’d first encountered whilst attending the same high school. Although two years apart, you found him to be adorable and couldn’t help but to grace the awkward brainiac with a smile every morning on his visits to the library. A beautiful goddess like you even acknowledging him? He was grateful for that alone! But it wasn’t until his senior year did the two of you reconnect. By that time, he had shed his thick, wire framed glasses for icy blue contacts to match his own..grew out his blonde bowl cut to a curly shag and had even acquired a couple of art pieces on his arm. Not to mention, gained some muscle from playing basketball. Some say you were the catalyst for his sudden change. Although this appearance was new, deep down, he was still that wide eyed genius with unbelievable intelligence. And best believe, your kindness wasn’t lost on him. So it came as no surprise, when you happened to cross paths with him at a graduation party that your younger sister, who happened to be in the same class with him, was attending..he found the courage to finally talk to you face to face. All of his newfound confidence flew out of the window when he saw you..that ethereal skin, deity like features and of course, that smile. That smile that made his heart flutter. “You haven’t changed a bit, baby boy…”

certainly his looks had, but you saw through all of that. You saw Armin for who he truly was and for that, he couldn’t allow you to slip away without confessing his true feelings. So that night, with liquor in his veins, he charmed you with sweet words and told you that he’d always had the biggest crush on you. It didn’t take long for you guys to get involved..days after that party, you began seeing one another. Both romantically and intimately. However, your relationship wasn’t exactly conventional or ideal..you were good for each other, perhaps a little too well. Because every moment that presented itself, you’d find yourself in every bed, couch, bathroom or backseat..going at it like rabid animals. The sex was insane and you couldn’t get enough of each other. It was only coupled by the sensation of the drugs coursing your veins..stimulants that sent your mind to places you didn’t need to be. Although there was never a single fight between you two, you knew the relationship wasn’t a healthy one. You encouraged each other’s worst habits. He had gotten a full ride scholarship to his dream school and you had obtained several as well for your ideal program. But you both stood to lose those if you didn’t make some changes. Ditching class to go smoke and then fucking him in every square inch of your off campus apartment. Sending him nudes and salacious messages during class, along with always being underneath each other. He’d never be able to focus and stay on track at this rate! Hence why you had to be the mature one and break things off. Even if it brought you to tears as well. So with a shaky palm, as you lay in bed next to one another, you’d bring a hand to his face and quell his doubts.

“You couldn’t possibly think that..you're the only one I want, Armin. I swear on everything..but..we can’t keep doing this. I love you so much but we’re no good for each other. At least not right now..”

but he’d attest, almost immediately. Insisting that he could buckle down and focus on his goals at hand. However, your mind was made up. That blind obsession and adoration for you would never allow him his room for growth. It wasn’t fair. Here you were only another year shy of receiving your degree and he was barely even started. You had to give him a fair shot, even if it meant removing yourself from the equation. You had even found an internship. He’d try to talk you out of it, convince you that he could juggle both college and you but regardless of how smart he was, nursing school was an entirely different beast in and of itself. It would require his full attention and dedication if he wanted to be an exceptional caregiver. No drugs, no distractions…no you. His studies deserved all of his time.

“So why can’t we make it work then? Isn’t that what couples do or was I nothing more than a joke?”

“Armin…”

in that moment, he’d tug away and roll over onto his side, giving you the proverbial cold shoulder and it stung like hell. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the man you loved. If anything, you wished things could stay like this forever. But you both had growing up to do and until that happened, it was best you parted ways.

“..I have an idea..”

But it wasn’t something that had to be permanent..for now though, there was no need to be upset with one another when you could spend your remaining time enjoying yourselves. Gently pulling him back towards you, you’d maneuver your legs until you were able to crawl on top of him. Those long acrylics scaled his freshly tattooed chest as you gently straddled his waist..at that moment, his little cheeks flushed red and you’d feel his breathing becoming slightly heavier. You’d lean down and begin peppering light kisses to his temple and all around his face..all while slowly rolling your hips against his crotch. With you, he was vulnerable..at his softest and would undoubtedly listen to whatever you said. “I’m all ears..”

that’s when you’d devise a plan that you believed that both of you could agree upon. An agreement of sorts.. “..two years..in two years, we can see each other again, just like this. We’ll work hard and reach our goals. You’ll be in your senior year, doing clinicals and I’ll be at my new job. We can find a place and finally start our lives together. Armin, I love you so much and I don’t want to see you throw your life away. Please..promise me you’ll find your way back to me when you’re ready. When we’re both in a better place..” once he spotted your tearful plea and heard the tone in your voice, he knew what had to be done. Personal feelings aside..you were absolutely right. He knew if he stood any chance of keeping you in his life, he had to blossom into a grown man that you could be proud of. One that was worthy of being called yours. Reaching up, Armin would grasp your hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss, holding it close. He wanted to remember that feeling..savor it and savor you as well. God, he didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye!..but this was the only way. The only way he could ensure that he got to have you in the long run. He wanted you two to grow old together so he’d make this temporary sacrifice to be able to share an eternity with you.

“..you have my word, angel. I promise..I promise I’ll come back to you a better man than what I’ve been..”

“Then take me…right here.”

just then, you’d feel his hand snake up your spine and tug you down towards his chest..not another word was exchanged. Just slow, tender pecks and breathy moans..immersed in the covers and in one another, you’d allow the moment to take you both. Your palms cupping his cheek and his gripping your ass, you’d tousle around underneath the sheets. It didn’t take long for the endearing moment to become rather heated but it was a true testament of the passion between you two. In a moment of haste, his nails would gently dig into the curvature of your back as you leaned up. In a matter of minutes, you’d feel his once flaccid erect growing harder underneath you. The sensation of your dripping heat making direct contact with him..and it was driving him crazy! He needed you so badly right now and you were just the same.

“Armieeee..”

calling out with a high pitched whimper as you ground yourself against him. You couldn’t stop either..almost as if you’d simply combust if you were to be pulled away from him right now. Frail cries would escape his lips as well but he’d find a semblance of control to satisfy your desires, which took precedence over everything else.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you need..”

cooing to you in that sweet, loving tone that always managed to turn you to meet putty in his hands every time. You were still hopelessly rutting yourself against him; arousal overflowing from between your thighs that quickly. He knew what you wanted but he needed to hear you say the fateful words..give him instruction and guidance the way you had always done. “Hey, look at me, mama..” gently snatching your head forward and forcing eye contact as your chest heaved. “N-need you. Need you so bad, baby..please. Make love to me..” and with that whiny declaration, he’d make haste in fulfilling your wish. With a cocked smile, Armin would reign you in tighter, reaching for you. “Then here..take my hands, angel..” on his command, your hands would join in a gentle clasp, combining as one as you adjusted your lower half to align with his. He’d buck his hips upward and you’d lower yourself down as your bodies became one… meeting in an instant. “Fuck…” the word escaping your mouths simultaneously along with gentle moans. That seemed to be the theme for the night. A stark comparison to the wild nights you shared together previously. Perhaps.. it was the realization that this was really the last time you’d get to do this for a while. That he wouldn’t be able to feel the comfort of your body, to smell your intoxicating scent..to clash with your plump lips..to taste the sticky gloss that coated them. To stare into those gorgeous brown eyes. So as he lie underneath you, being rode to kingdom come as your tightness constricted around him once more, Armin would close his eyes and absorb every memory, every fiber of you..ensuring that he’d never forget his first and true love.

“There you go, baby. Right there..ride me—fuck!”

and he couldn’t possibly forget how you made him feel. How you set him ablaze with your overwhelming passion..still bound hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d keep going. Throwing your head to the wind and calling out your lover’s name, lifting it to the heavens as you bounced up and down. Taking him to your hilt; allowing that swollen tip to prod your most sensitive area. “Armin, baby! Yes..oh my gosh, you feel so good.” For the first time, you didn’t just fuck him. His flesh was more than a mere vessel of pleasure..it was your soul becoming one with his own. You were experiencing true pleasure in its purest form..and neither of you wanted it to end. Finally opening his eyes, he’d be greeted by the ethereal view of your breasts swaying and your beautiful face throwed in ecstasy filled bliss. “Aw, baby..you’re so beautiful. My favorite view in the entire world.” Smiling as tears streamed generously down your cheeks. “Oh my God—I love you, Armin! I love you so much.” Confessing with all that you could muster. And that warm, gushing sensation derived from your sex wasn’t lost on Armin either. He’d find himself in a fit of heaving as your walls closed in around his cock. Squeezing him as if to never let go. “Ahh!-shit..I love you too, baby!—“

in that moment, he could no longer hold back his urges. His need to claim full dominion over you..hastily, he’d bring you to a cease before maneuvering and flipping you over onto your back. It was then that he’d mount you. Diving between your legs as he held each in place. He didn’t even take a moment to adjust. It was mere seconds before you’d find yourself filled with him yet again and he’d begin his descent into your mix. Sloshing and drumming up slick as your thighs collided in a fiery haze. The bed..the one that you’d messed around in so many times before served as the place of consummation for your devotion tonight..ricocheting and colliding with the wall as thunderous slams erupted. Your limbs entangled as your legs found home around his waist and your arms on his back. His entire frame lay bare and pressed to your own as those hips crashed into you. It felt unreal..so unbelievably unreal. But this was the present..your reality for the time being so you’d savor every last moment you got together. Drilling further into your body, his pace sped to a barrage of more steady, consistent strokes. Ones that he would accompany with sloppy tongue kisses. Filling your mouth with them as he pounded you gently. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Regardless of how many times you slept together, something about this moment was starkly different. “Look at me, (y/n)!…” once again, snatching your head forward to meet his gaze. “You’re mine..you’re mine and I don’t give a damn where you go. I belong to you, you hear me? Don’t forget that..” those tears that had been brimming in his eyes finally fell and you’d affirm his sentiment with a fierce nod of your head, assuring him that no amount of distance or time could ever dissipate the love you shared for one another. “Yes baby! And I’m all yours, forever. I won’t ever leave you.” Sealing your promises with one final act..

“Yeah? You mean that?” “Every word, baby. I want you to always be with me..” Vocalizing back and forth as he continually thrashed around inside of your pussy until he sensed the urge that you were close. Upholding one another’s heads in a passionate fury, you’d exchange breathy words amid your love making. Telling him you’re near your peak and him telling you to let go. “Come for me, baby. You can come all over—“ but alas, before he could grant you permission, it would seem that he’d reach his climax first; glaring with a wide eyed expression as his seed filled you to the brim..something he’d never done before! Cursing himself and apologizing as he shook violently, draining every drop of himself into you. Perhaps he took your words a bit too literal but it was far too late to turn back now and shortly after, you’d follow. Showering him with a splatter of sticky rain. Squeezing and dripping all down his shaft. You’d convulse and flail around the mattress until he was able to quell you with gentle kisses. “I’m right here, mama. Let it out, it’s okay..” but once you were back into consciousness, you still wouldn’t let go and you remained entangled like this minutes afterwards. Exchanging “I love you’s” and sweet nothings. Along with tears..shedding them not for what would be lost but the time you had together and the comfort in knowing that you’d reunite soon enough. This time as more than friends with benefits or even mere freshmen sweethearts. But as an entity, an item that could never be separated because your bond was forged on a stronger foundation than one made of pure lust. It was love that would drive you to be better versions of yourselves, to work hard and it was love..that would bring you right back to one another when the time was truly right!

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°

@citysweet @greenieweeniesworld @hoohoohope @c0pkiller @bey0nseh @violetxxvenom @dragonmaiden79 @fuck-your-chickenstrips-hoe @saiki-enthusiast

[safetypinxtales]

400 years | Azriel

summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.

words: 3.2k

warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description

notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍

masterlist

Thud.

The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either. 

But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel. 

The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks. 

“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”

Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles. 

That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries. 

“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.

Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.

It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites. 

Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.

You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy. 

The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.

It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.

“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes. 

“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about? 

“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”

The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.

“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”

Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room. 

The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic. 

Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.

“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands. 

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.

“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”

“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 

“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.

Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…

You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–

“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up. 

“Is that Rhysand?!”

At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you. 

The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord. 

You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics. 

“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!” 

The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.

And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….

“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.

The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look. 

“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.

His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.

“Oh, please.” 

The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.

“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”

Nothing?

From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.

“What? Like you can do better?” 

Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.

One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours. 

He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.

“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.” 

The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa. 

No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating. 

You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement. 

He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…

You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. 

His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours. 

“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.

You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”

With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks. 

“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away. 

With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled. 

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…

You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you. 

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him. 

Let me be your muse.

His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…

Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking. 

The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing. 

A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother. 

The reality?

Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him. 

Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.

Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment. 

You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers. 

You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.

It made it annoyingly hard to focus. 

The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped. 

“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his. 

Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”

400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes. 

“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist. 

That is a very long time.

Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl. 

“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before. 

It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong? 

You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.” 

Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat. 

Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye. 

The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes. 

It took your breath away.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head. 

His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet. 

“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.” 

That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face. 

“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.

His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.

That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.

There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you. 

So dangerously close.

He was your friend. 

Right? 

“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.” 

You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.

“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.

“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”

You froze. 

The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.

Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth. 

Azriel loved you?

Azriel loved you. 

The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his. 

The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage. 

He was everywhere.

The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible. 

You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air. 

You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest. 

“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness. 

He swallowed, “It is.”

“So is mine,” you revealed. 

“Yes, I can hear it.”

Oh. 

“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out. 

Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his. 

This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.

Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.

This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.

It was claiming.

And so you let him claim you. 

Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.

A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.

Want to be added to my taglist?

tags: @missus-shadowsinger

[junggunz]

18 + 19 | 🔞

summary: gun eats you out and makes you squirt for the first time. wc: 1.4k are all these number prompts are gonna be 1k+? let's wait and find out cw: fembodied reader, smut, established relationship, oral an: no one actually cares besides me tbh but im not making different fanfic headers for repeat character requests. after i finished this, i realized that this also fits prompt 21.

Gun laments the fact that the first time he had sex with you, the both of you were too worked up to bother with the art of foreplay. So when he propositions you for a redo to do things properly, you weren’t sure what you expected.

But you definitely weren’t anticipating him asking you to ride his face. Sure, the brazen way he goes about it was something you could have predicted. It’s the thinly veiled neediness in his voice, the truly primal hunger in his eyes and how his jaw drops open when prop yourself over him. Knees sinking into the plush mattress with your thighs on either side of his head, his hand reaches for yours to help you keep balanced. 

Before he even touches you, you feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your sticky folds and you let out a small gasp. Fingers still interlocked with yours, both his hands settle on your hips to keep you in place. When you see him lean in to close the small distance between his mouth and your heat, you brace yourself for the lashings of his sinful tongue but it never comes. Instead, his lips latch on to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. The feathery kisses make you shudder and goosebumps prickle your skin. Trailing closer and closer to where you want him, when you finally feel him plant a kiss on your swollen clit, the simple action has his lips glossed up with the sheen of your arousal. Pulling back slightly, he looks up at you with a smug grin; tongue poking out to lick up your wetness from his lips. His first taste of you has him absolutely elated, a rush of pleasure rushing to his cock and he’s eager to seek more of it.

Yet there’s reluctance. Coming from your end. When Gun tugs on your hips to bring you closer so he doesn’t have to crane his neck the whole time, you resist him.

“What are you doing?” He questions, trying to mask his annoyance out of fear that you might genuinely be put off by something he did.

“I’ll crush you if I put my full weight on you.” You mumble, heat spreading across your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Gun taunts, unphased by your admission as he looks up with you. A smirk graces his lips before he speaks again. “Now, be good and spread your pussy open so I can eat.”

Not giving you a chance to argue back, his hand slips out of yours before he delivers a sharp smack to your ass that makes your whole body lurch forward; your lower half getting dangerously close to his mouth. Gun anticipated some sort of shyness from you but he didn’t think he would like it this much. Embarrassment paints your expression but it doesn’t quite match up with the wet mess between your legs, your pussy getting wetter right above his lips as your trembling hand reaches to touch yourself. Fingers ghosting over the slick skin, you demurely evade Gun’s eyes while you part your folds for him. 

His breath hitches at the sight of you so spread open for him, really allowing him to see every bit of your glistening pussy. 

“You really are gorgeous everywhere.” Gun muses quietly, making you wonder if you were meant to hear the compliment but it’s only a fleeting thought.

You let out a surprised squeak when he roughly grabs you by the hips, pulling you down onto his tongue and letting you feel his tongue on you for the first time. The little lick to your exposed clit is more than enough to get him hooked. You’re absolutely soaked, leaking your nectar and Gun wants to lap it all up straight from the source. But, he needs to show some restraint this time around. 

“Keep yourself spread open for me.” He demands, voice muffled due to him mumbling into your skin before he flicks his tongue over your clit again.

Gun focuses his attention on your most sensitive spot, enamored by the way each pass of his tongue makes your pussy drool and the sweetest moans to tumble past your lips. Your sounds do little to satiate his appetite, only making him more ravenous when he feels your wetness smeared out all over the lower half of his face. 

“Oh fuck—keep going—” You gasp, finally letting yourself sit all the way down on and your hands flying to Gun’s hair, gripping the inky black locks tightly. 

Now, Gun can really give you his tongue and show you what you’ve been missing. Gentle is the way his lips encase your clit before he starts to suckle between flicks of his tongue; relishing in the pretty sounds you make and ignoring his untouched cock aching to feel your warmth. 

Shamelessly, you grind your hips back and forth on his tongue. It doesn’t cross your mind that Gun isn’t the type to normally tolerate such lewd behavior while he’s eating. But for you, he’ll make an exception. You look and taste so good while you’re selfishly getting drunk on the pleasure he gives you. 

“Your tongue feels too good.” You whine, finally rid of all your inhibitions and looking down to meet Gun’s eyes. 

You don’t even notice that a stray tear had rolled down your cheek; your face was already decorated in a light layer of perspiration from trying to keep yourself together. However, Gun craves to break you. He wants to see you come undone from just his tongue so he can help put you back together. Your needy movements tell him everything. You’re so, so close to falling apart. You just need that extra push.

Fingers digging into the meat of your hip, Gun snakes his tongue into your pussy; burying it deep while his nose pressed against your swollen clit. Thankful that you were doing such a good job of keeping yourself spread for him, he’s able to greedily feast on your cunt. At this point, he might want you to cum more than you actually want it yourself. Just the idea of you cumming in his mouth and giving him your essence sends another rush of blood to his cock. 

Gun keeps a close watch of your face, anticipating your finish as he feels the familiar sensation of your walls convulsing around him. Brow furrowed, your mouth hanging open, and your thighs trembling, your orgasm is just around the corner but it doesn’t feel like any that you’ve had before. As much as you try to hold back and make sense of why it felt so different, Gun’s determination to bring you to the pinnacle of pleasure is on another level. 

You can’t control your moans or give any warning before it feels like all the tension in your body gathers in the pit of your stomach then snaps like a rubber band. Your mind is totally blank as you sob out, only feeling this gush of wetness trickling out of you. With your eyes squeezed shut, you miss Gun’s expression of pure elation as you squirt all over his face. He was so fucking hard just from eating you out, it takes a ridiculous amount of control for him to stop himself from thrusting upwards on instinct. 

Gun laps up your release like he had been dehydrated for days and you were his salvation; moaning into your sensitive flesh and licking everything up until the only taste that lingered on you was just his saliva. By the time Gun’s appetite has been satisfied, your mind has come back and you realize what just happened.

“I’ve never done that before.” You admit quietly, pulling off of him and moving to sit on his lap. Just a few more inches down and you would have settled right on top of his hard cock that was throbbing in need of attention.

“Never?” Gun echoes, an amused hum rumbling in the back of his throat as he licks his lips, your honey still lingering on his taste buds. “I guess we’ll be spending the night finding out how many times you can squirt before you start whining about being too sensitive.”

Though his words are teasing, they’re nothing but honest. You had already anticipated a long evening ahead of you after finding out just how much stamina Gun possessed. But after your sweet pussy was generous enough to squirt for him, he intends on finding out exactly how much you can give him.

[yaut-jaknowit]

So somehow Gawtin or her human lover get ahold of a strap on :3

False Control

Pairing: Gawtin (female Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Strap on, wlw, lesbian sex, cunnilingus.

Word Count: 3926

Summary: Gawtin comes to you with a silicone dildo. She wants you to use it on her. The first time you are able to fuck her the way she deserve. Despite her allowing you to top her, she's always in control.

Author Note: I know I say this every time but I love our girl Gawtin. Sexy motherfucker who could twist off my head and I'll thank her. Also, I didn't know who was suppose to use it so I took the chance to write about our goddess getting dicked down.

P.s. I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to close asks. I didn't expect nearly thirty to be sitting in my inbox right now. Plus, I'm falling behind in my writing right now. Work has been rough with summer coming and people fucking calling out. So fun.

Masterlist

Ao3

In your hand, the silicone was heavy and thick. A concerned look passed over your features when you glanced up at Gawtin. “This is the average size for a male?” you exclaimed, eyes darting between the fake phallus and those gorgeous purple eyes of hers. Gawtin had given you this after visiting the market today. The two of you have been talk about getting an item like that.

One of her upper mandibles lifted with a smirk. “Yes.” She bent at the waist to pinch your chin between her thick digits. “And that does not even include the knot.” Your eyes widened. You had forgotten that small detail. Males had a knot… part of their breeding and such.

Your bottom lip was caught between dull teeth, eyes raking down her form you knew so well but loved just the same. “I wish I could knot you,” you uttered softly into the air, dazed by checking your green Yautja out.

The grasp on your chin tightened and tugged you towards her. Her warm breath fanning over your face. “Is that so?” All you could do was just nod with your eyes softening. Her long, skinny tongue darted out and teased your lips for a second. “You will not be able to but you have a chance for something else,” she purred with a hint to why she bought that.

It’s the classic Qui-oki visiting his aunty again for the night. Bziut-ty knows the drill by now. Every time you left her dwelling after dropping Oki off, a heavy blush burned your cheeks. Yet, the sister to Gawtin was nonchalant about it. She happily took Qui-oki for the night with no complaints.

You attempted to wrap your fingers around the base of the shaft but came up short. “Are you sure this isn’t going to hurt you?” you couldn’t help but question. This thing would tear you into two without any preparation. For her, it seems like she could take it with little foreplay into the mix. No matter what, you would still do at least some foreplay. If not for her sake, for yours to make you feel more at ease before shoving this massive thing inside of her.

Gawtin chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I am more than sure, artful one. I want you to watch as it splits me open and I take it fully in. I cannot wait to see that look of surprise on your face.” She grinned and released her hold on your chin with a last kiss.

“Well… if you’re sure,” you trailed off and glanced down the hardwood floors of the house. Gawtin patted your head.

“Do you want to test it now?” Your head snapped to look up at her towering form.

“Like, right now?” It was stupid to question her like that but you couldn’t believe she was wanting to do that now. She just bought it. Well, that’s true. She did just buy it. Who doesn’t want to try a new toy the day you received it.

The forest green Yautja snorted and stepped further into your personal space. A space always welcomed for her. One of her hands splayed across a large portion of your back and pushed you to her. “Yes, this very second.”

Both of you were into your shared bedroom in less than a second. A giddy smile gracing your feature to hide your nerves. Despite her attempt to cool your anxiety, but the fact this thing was massive in your hands… you thought it was going to hurt her. Though, she does a little pain, biting and scratching are always welcomed.

The yellow toy was set on the bed. You stood before her, still fully clothed. Something Gawtin was going to fix. She hooked a claw on the strap of your tank top and pulled on it. Though, she could easily tear it off of you and replace it just the same, she gave you the option to remove it yourself. You raised a brow, eye flickering down to her own clothing.

“Honey, I think it’s you that needs to strip,” you pointed out, nearly demanding your mate to strip before you. Every time, you loved the sight of her muscles and even slightly pronounced breasts from breastfeeding Qui-oki.

Gawtin had to teach you a lesson. The massive female grabbed a handful of the clothe and ripped it straight off of your torso. You didn’t expect less from her and gave the green Yautja a deadpanned look. She ignored it by lowering herself onto her knees and cupping one of your freed breasts now. “I prefer to see you bare and at my will,” she purred and bowed her head to lick at your pebbled nipple. A low groan sounds from the back of your throat.

Your jaw drops at the feeling. “Gawtin, please. Be nice and strip for your mate,” you pleaded with the stubborn female. You saw the fire in her eyes flicker to life. Her tongue trailed up, followed by her lower mandibles up to the vulnerable column of your throat. They carved a path till your jawline before slipping off. You shuttered, body covered in goosebumps.

“Hearing you beg is Paya’s grounds,” she whispered against your ear, tongue ghosting over the shell of you ear. “Be good and ask properly.”

Now, you were beginning to pant, even with the light, little touches she gave to you. With your brows furrowed and lip pushed out, you up at her. “Gawtin, I want to see your body. I’ll be good. I promise. I want to fuck you. You’re so pretty. I want to see you take this dildo. Will you let me?” you rambled and your beautiful mate a look you knew she couldn’t resist.

“That is a good little ooman,” she praised and tapped your cheekbone with a claw. “All you need to do is ask sweetly, just like that.” Gawtin stood back up and stripped her body of any clothing.

Dumbly, all you could do was stand watch each piece of clothing fall away. It was like the first day you saw her naked. Adoration sparkled in your eyes even after the last article was placed to the side. “God, you’re my pretty woman,” you muttered and reached out to squeeze her hips. Your head only reaching her midriff, shoulders level with her hips.

She snorts and motions her head over to the bed. “Get the harness on, artful one. I’ll help adjust,” she ordered with a soft tone but you knew to listen to her. You padded over to the end fo the bed and found the item she told you about.

A black, simple harness that’s been modified for someone of your smaller stature and to fit the tank of a dildo she wants. It was simple enough to pull it up and secure it to your hips. Gawtin’s warm hands helped to tighten the harness so it wouldn’t fall off nor was it too tight. The toy itself was secured as well to the designated spot.

Your hand wraps what you can around the base and gave the firm silicon a few strokes. Your lover lies down on the bed and spreads her legs. You follow after her and kneel between her legs, eyes softly gazing at her. “Can I warm you up, my pretty warrior?” you asked with a hopeful gaze.

The Yautja raised a brow at you, letting the tension build up between you two. Then, her massive head dipped down in permission. You silently cheered and bent down, face to her exposed cunt. Though this wasn’t your first time, you still took in the sight.

Alien, but in a good way. Three clits, though longer than usual. You’ve learned they can grow up to two inches long when aroused. The folds themselves are ribbed and even inside are too. Definitely alien. And you loved it.

Softly, you wrapped your lips around the top clit, the biggest of the three. One of your thumbs runs a path along what would be considered the labia. The pad ghosting over the nubs that lined her entrance. Gawtin’s thighs tensed but refused to clamp down on your head, taking your fragile self into consideration. You lightly suckled on the sensitive nub you pulled into your mouth and ran your tongue over the flushed skin.

Her breath hitched while watching you, resting on her elbows. “Keep going, little one. Do not stop,” she commanded, voice in between soft and firm. Gawtin rolled her hips slightly against your face, your thumbpad teasing her nubs harder. You took it as a sign to press against the little sensitive bumps harder. She responded the way you expected her. A short growl escaped her throat. “That’s it.”

From the top clit, you moved to the one on the bottom left. That drew a soft sound from your mate. Her thighs flexed at your sides, barely moving any closer to you. You dipped a thumb just past her entrance to dampen the fingertip. The moist digit glides across the bumps easier, gaining a pace you she enjoyed.

The clit was released once it was flush with blood. For the first time, you tongued at her entrance and tasted her again. Your muscle scooping up what was possible and drinking in her taste. Such deliciousness that couldn’t be contested. You hummed, eyes hooding over, and returned to finishing the last clit. Her sweetness makes it hard to focus on one thing at a time. You just wanted to dive back in and consume the taste she created.

As you sucked, you slipped two fingers, just the size of one her own, into her. Her strong muscles rippled around your digit, trying to suck it in more. You stopped at the knuckle and kept your hand vertical. With those two fingers, you find a well defined ribbed area and push.

Gawtin growled lowly in her throat, muscles throbbing around your fingers. God, you loved that sound and the feeling. You continued to rub a small circle around the area and returned to loving on the first bud. It slightly twitched in your mouth, at it’s full length at this point.

“You know me so well, little one. Know all my spots. Such a good little artist,” she cooed, head rolling back and neck fully exposed. You hummed around her clit and sent vibrations up the length of her spine. Her thighs pressed against the sides of your head before pulling back. “Paya, you are playing a dangerous game, teasing me like that.” You smirked silently to your self and started to pump your fingers. Another finger added to the ring.

It barely did anything to stretch her out. Your hand being too small for the job. That didn’t bother more than did it worry you instead. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt her in a bad way. You added your last finger inside of her and kept pumping away.

Her arousal began to leak down the swell of her cheeks as you drew it out from her. You abandoned her throbbing buds to dip down and lick up what spilled. Your hand was withdrew from her and was replaced with your mouth. The taste of her returning to your tastebuds. A hum sounding from your pleased state.

In such a state, you didn’t even realize your hips were rutting against the mattress until you felt her hand on your hip. They stilled under her touch; breath caught in your throat. Your own slick was starting to drip down the inside of your thighs. The scent mingling with hers.

The hand slips more from your hip and towards your entrance. You mewled with her fingertips ghosted over your dripping folds and swiped up some of your arousal up. Gawtin brough it up to her mouth and licked off the sticky substance staining them. You shuttered and doubled down on her, tongue scooping what you could at the source.

Your mouth returns to her sensitive clits, hand diving back to rub at the spot deep inside of her. Gawtin’s walls started to pulse around your hand. Her noises gaining pitch, hips thrust harsher against your face. You severely focused on her, letting every other thought fall away besides just hurt.

With your other hand, you wrapped it around one of her thighs and pulled yourself snug with her. When her muscles clamped down on your fingers, you felt the bones creak under the strain but refused to pull back. You continued to suckle and lick at her buds, drawing out her orgasm the best you could. Your name was thrown in the mix with a magnificent whine you rarely got to hear.

Gawtin’s chest heaved with breaths as she gathered herself. You drew yourself onto your knees and placed the heavy cock on her mound. Deep down, you were excited to see this thing spilt her open, better than your fingers ever could.

When the dazed look started to fade from her eyes, you rubbed your hand over her stomach then dragged your nails down. They might be dull but she arched her back to press against them harder.

“There’s my wonderful mate. How was that?” you teased your very dominate mate. She growled that ended into a purr and exposed her throat to you. “Are you okay to continue? We-“

One of her hands lashed out and grabbed your throat. A soft yet firm grasp to keep you from pulling away. Gawtin pushed up to rest on her hand instead of her elbow to lean closer to your face. “If you do not put that thing into me now…” she trailed off, leaving open the threat. You couldn’t help but snort, knowing where she was coming from. All the times she’s teased you before coming to mind.

“If you let go of my neck, I can see what I’m doing.” There was just a hint of a snark in your words. One that Gawtin let slip past for the moment. She let go at your words. A smile was giving to her. You gazed down and lined up the pointed head of the yellow dildo at her entrance.

The fire in her eyes could rival the sun’s heat itself. Her desire heavy and thick in the air. You timidly pushed the head past her folds, watching as she consumed it. Gawtin’s cunt starting to stretch to accommodate the toy. Fuck, this was a sight you never knew you needed to see.

Each inch pushed deeper into her, you met no resistance, even when you hilted inside of her. A tiny part of you wished to feel what it would be like to have her wrapped around a real cock. “You look so beautiful stretched around my cock, Gawtin. You don’t understand what this does to me,” you admitted, raptured by the sight before you. You never thought this day would ever come.

She was back on her elbows and kept that sense of dominate aura around her. A soft look passed over her features. “Oh, I do know what you mean, little one. Every time I use my fin-ah,” she gasped when you pulled out and thrusted fully back in. “You sneaky little brat.” Her voice hardened. You smirked.

“You were saying?” With this tiny lick of dominance, you were acting like you had the whole universe in the palm of your hand. Her hand flicked out and wrapped around your throat all over again. Your thrusting stopped, eyes widening at the show of dominance over you. Again, she’s in charge.

Gawtin pulls you closer to her face. “When I stretch you with my fingers alone, you are a squirming, pleading mess underneath me,” she finished what she was originally going to say. You shuttered, your empty pussy clenching around nothing. “So, you better fuck me good, little one.” Her wish is your command. You rapidly nodded your head to get her to release your throat.

Thankfully, she did. Your hands grasp at her hips and pull back your own. A mix of her arousal and your saliva coating the toy. You shoved the entire length back into her, watching as it disappeared. You groaned lowly in the back of your throat and started up a pace. One of your thumbs moved to run tight circles around her top clit, still wet from your mouth earlier. Her walls tightened around the dildo.

“Paya’s grace, you know what you are doing,” she moaned and watched as you fucked her, eyes glued to the yellow toy moving in and out of her. “Tilt… tilt your hips down, little one.” Every little sound and word she made you soaked in. Instantly, you listened to her and angled your hips down to drive the head towards the ground.

Her abs flexed when you hit something your fingers could never reach. “That is it. Right-right there.” In the heat of moment, you accidentally sped up your thrusts, the praise making you lightheaded. “Slow. Slow down.” You whined an apology and returned to your former speed.

An array of sounds echoed back at you in the privacy of her room. The slapping of skin on skin; her keens; your pants. You bite your bottom lip to keep some of your control in check. Your finger continuously rubbing at her sensitive nerve endings.

Sweat pooled on your forehead. Though you felt your energy depleting, you were driven by determination to get her come. You wanted to leave a good impression on her so she’ll let you do this more often. You bowed down, keeps still angled down to rub against the sweet spot inside of her. “Shit, Gawtin. You don’t understand… how much I love you,” you rambled and gave her the sweetest eyes you could pull.

In her orbs, you saw something shift. But you had no time to prepare for when the scenery changed. You gasped after finding yourself on your back and staring up at Gawtin. The giant straddled your hips easily and positioned herself over the toy. Her body slammed down and engulfed the dildo back inside of her. She moaned, head bowed and began to ride the strap on still attached to your hips. Gawtin easily trapped both of your hands in hers and pinned them to bed. Her entire frame leaned over you as she took her pleasure from you.

“Gawtin?!” you shrieked afterwards, unable to move but not in any pain. She was taking what she wants from you. She dismissed your squeak, not stopping.

Gawtin leaned down and practically shoved her tongue past your lips. Her muscle dominated yours without much of effort. You were too stunned to fight back. You moaned though, back arched off of the bed. Her free hand found its back to your exposed chest and tweaked a nipple. Gawtin pulled back and stared deeply into your eyes.

“Ah, shit!” you squeaked and keened under her touch. “This is supposed t-to be about you!” With her riding you, it still was mainly focused on her pleasure, but you wanted to be strictly zeroed in on her.

All she did was growl, the fire in her eyes bright. Your bottom lip caught between dull teeth as you attempted to reel in your noises. You didn’t dare drown out what little sounds she made. Gawtin pulled harshly on your perked nipple with a huff. A knowing look passed over her features. You kept any other words to yourself if it wasn’t praise.

Fangs dug into the skin of your throat, on the verge of spilling blood. You pulled on your hands but the Yautja refused to let go.

The teeth moved to your shoulder, holding on tight. “Good girl, Gawtin,” you cooed and tried to thrust up to meet her hips. Yet, each time she slammed down practically bounced your body back up into hers. “You gonna come? Come all over my cock inside of you?”

A pitiful whine pierced the air. Her hips slammed once more with yours before stilling. All of her muscles flexed and twitched. Pain radiating from your shoulder, her teeth lodged into your skin. Another mark to add to the pile. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Hands cupped your chin. Gawtin released her hold on you and looked at you. A smile broke across your face. “How was that, pretty girl?” you asked the goddess in a soft tone. Her face relaxed after making sure you were okay. Gawtin began to purr and rested her forehead to yours. “I think you liked that more than me.” At least you hoped so.

One of her hands left your face to touch at the bite mark on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but hiss at the pain. It wasn’t bad but definitely noticeable. “I would apologize but it will scar nicely,” she stated.

You couldn’t help the snort that left you. “I think everyone in the village knows I belong to you. Possibly the planet,” you teased her. Marking you is a favorite thing of hers. Anything to get you marked and smelling like her was her favorite. None of the males ever come up to you, especially when Gawtin is around. Expect those two times… those two males really learned a hard lesson.

Gawtin huffed before leaning up to stand on her knees. The dildo slips out of her and flops onto your stomach, covered in her essence. Before you had a chance to even think about cleaning anything, you were lifted up and off the bed. You yelped and scrambled to latch onto Gawtin. “What did I say about warning me?” She didn’t response and began to walk towards the bathroom. “Hey, I’m supposed to be one taking care of you.”

“It is my duty to care for you, little mate,” she stated. You groaned and leaned back in her hold, trusting her to keep you safe. “Complain all you want but I love caring for you.” You softened at her words and looked at her beautiful eyes.

“You’re such a big softy,” you jestered then leaned up, arms hooked around her neck to hoist you up. “You’re my big softy.” Then, you kissed her top two mandibles each. Blood still stained her inner fangs.

A purr started in her chest. The Yautja starts to run a bath for both of your sake and sets you down. You were able to strip yourself of the toy and tossed it into the sink for cleaning later.  “You never answered my question,” you brought up after the tub was filled with hot water.

She perked a brow at you. “I rode you like… like a horse into the sunset,” she responded with a smirk on her alien face. You pressed your lips together and looked away. “And you figure out your speed quickly. It was perfect. You are perfect, my little ooman.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away from her shyly.

Warm water engulfed you. Gawtin sat you in her lap and wrapped her arms around. “You’ll let me go that, right?” you pleaded with a pouty look on your features. “Since I did so good.”

One of her hands stroked down your back, sending tingles along your skin. “Yes, you did earn the chance to do it in the future.”

Dominate as she is, she’ll let you have your moments of false control. You were swift to eat up each second she allotted to you.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter One: S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Azkaban, shittyly written angst,

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

Author's Note: It's been a long ass time my friends, but I'm trying to make a come back here. I was a bit out of my comfort zone with this one so I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1146

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

GIF by red-artemis-jane

not my gif

The year Harry turned 11 was the year professor Sprout retired, in turn, Y/N got the position as herbology professor. She enjoyed teaching her nephew and loved being back at Hogwarts no matter how much it pained her to be there without her brother and his best friends. The first two years went by without much issue, however, in Harry’s third year, Y/N heard whispers of a new professor starting at Hogwarts, an old student from her time there. And she had also heard about the escape of Sirius Black, her brother’s best friend who had supposedly ratted the couple out to the dark lord and got them killed. It was a lot of emotions for her to deal with at once.

She was already at Hogwarts when she got word that Harry was attacked by a dementor on the train ride there. She rushed to the main hall and found her nephew rather quickly. “Merlin Harry, are you okay? Did you get hurt? How did this happen?” She bombarded her nephew with questions before engulfing him in a tight hug.

“I’m okay, Aunt Y/N. I didn’t get hurt, I don’t know what would’ve happened if professor Lupin wasn’t there,” Harry reassured his aunt.

“Lupin?”

“Professor Potter, we are waiting for you at the table, you may catch up with your nephew after the feast,” Dumbledore’s voice interrupted. She planted a kiss on her nephew’s forehead before following the headmaster to the table. She took her usual spot beside Severus, not even noticing the new but familiar face on the other side of the man. Dumbledore began his usual beginning of the year speech, this time including that due to the escape of Sirius Black, dementors would be gracing Hogwarts with their presence. “I would also like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor R.J Lupin.” Y/N choked on her tea at the name, Severus patting her back gently as he suppressed a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me you git,” She said harshly.

“I wasn’t laughing,” Severus replied monotonously.

“Sure you weren’t.” Once the food was put out and she had filled her plate, she took her plate to the greenhouse to get herself ready for another year. She also just needed a minute alone, away from everyone, so she could try and process everything that was going on. As she sat at her desk to begin processing, the greenhouse doors opened. “I really don’t want to talk right now Sev,” She said without looking up.

“Good thing I’m not Severus,” A familiar voice spoke, “It’s been a long time.” She looked up to see Remus standing a few feet away from her. Her mood soured just a bit more at the sight of him.

“And who’s fault is that?” She snapped at him.

“I deserve that,” He sighed.

“Why are you here Remus? Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Remus retorted, “I wanted to talk to you without your guard dog with you.”

“Then talk. And he isn’t my guard dog, he was there for me when I had nobody.”

“I also deserved that. Look, I just want to apologize for leaving without a word or even a letter. I thought it would be safer for you and Harry if I left, especially with my condition. It was too dangerous for me to be around you two. You didn’t deserve that.”

“If that’s all you have to say, then good night.”

“Talk to me Y/N! Yell at me, throw things, do something!” Remus shouted at her. She shot out of her chair, rushed around her desk and got in his face. Her heart raced with anger, her head spinning as tears sprung in her eyes.

“You want me to talk, fine, I’ll talk. You left me when I had nobody! My brother just died and you up and left! And then Peter died and Sirius got thrown in Azkaban and I got a baby practically thrown at me and you left me! The only person that was there for me, that got me out of bed, that got me to eat and took care of me, when I couldn’t do it myself, was Severus! He helped me and you were nowhere to be found! So fuck you Lupin, get out of my greenhouse!” She yelled at him, tears flowing down her cheek, chin trembling as she held back sobs.

“Y/N ple-”

“Get out! Get out of here before I do something I regret!” With that, Remus walked out of the greenhouse, leaving a sobbing Y/N alone, once again. That was the way Severus found her about 20 minutes later and, once again, he was left to pick up the pieces Remus had left behind.

“Darling, what happened? Why are you so upset?” Severus asked her, his voice filled with concern. When she didn’t answer, Severus became even more concerned but connected the dots. “Lupin came to see you, I’ll kill him.” She let out a teary chuckle at the threat he said under his breath.

“He came into my office, I thought it was you at first because I hadn’t looked up but I was wrong. He apologized and then wanted me to say something to him and I just screamed at him. It felt good to finally get it all out but it still hurts,” She finally explained. 

“I’m glad that the foul git got what he deserved. Do you want to talk about it?” She had nodded her head and the two talked for nearly 3 hours, about everything that was going on. Severus reassuring her as they talked and validating her feelings and her thoughts as the conversation continued. They had moved their conversation to a sofa she had in her office, eventually talking until they fell asleep. That was how Minerva found the pair when she had been wanting to chat with Y/N about Remus’ new position in the school. In all of the years she had known Severus, she had never seen the man sleep, let alone even yawn, so imagine her surprise seeing one of the most beloved professors sleep on a couch with the most dreaded professors together, not only just sleeping but snuggled together. Severus had his arms wrapped around her in a seemingly protective manner, Y/N’s head dipped down, resting on his chest, one arm around his waist, the other tucked into her chest.

Minerva just knew that she had to tell Albus and Sybil about the sight she took in. Before leaving the greenhouse office, she made sure that the lights were out and the two of them were covered in a blanket Y/N had lying around in her office. Minerva finally left the office with a smile on her face and a warmed heart at the sight.

[mikewheeleranti]

hogwarts legacy characters as tropes

includes: sebastian sallow, ominis gaunt, garreth weasley, amit thakkar

a/n: to the sebastian sallow stans, i'm gonna SPARE you. in this, anne is fine and he doesn't get into the dark arts.

sebastian sallow:

found family/friends to lovers

when you came to hogwarts, you came lonely. when you looked around after getting sorted into your house, everyone was sitting with somebody they knew, chatting away. planning to walk out, you're stopped short when a girl with short brown hair leaves her table to comes up to you. "hi, i'm anne! i couldn't help but notice you didn't have somewhere to sit, come by me and my brother, if you want to."

oh pls after that it was history, anne wasn't letting you go

ever since that dinner with anne and her twin, sebastian, in first year you were done for. sebastian's freckles and the way he blushed lightly in embarrassment when his sister would tease him for something made you swoon. ominis and anne taunted you about this endlessly, making you hide your face every time without fail.

anne definitely set you two up

anne told you many times that he did, in fact, like you back but it was hard to believe. he treated you like a normal friend, and those times you caught him staring at you he was just zoning out. so, pushing your feelings aside, you got ready to go to hogsmeade with anne, ominis, and sebastian. it took you and sebastian 15 minutes at honeydukes to realize the other 2 weren't coming. at the end of the day, you had confessed after you spilled butterbeer on his white shirt. "shit, im sorry! merlin, this is embarrassing. spilling a drink on the guy you like.." yea if u think you've seen him red you hadn't until that day.

you alr know those friendsgivings HIT

thanksgiving at hogwarts always made you a bit homesick, that feeling didn't come in 7th year with your "family." coming back to the slytherin common room after dinner, you stayed up all night talking with sebastian, who coincidentally got plastered with anne that night. " 'm gonna marry you one day" as he rested his head on your chest and dozed off, leaving your heart racing.

ominis gaunt:

forbidden romance

ominis' family would not approve of you, that is something he knew for a fact. his family was cold, distant, and in his eyes, evil. when he was younger, he would fantasize about escaping with his aunt, noctua gaunt, and moving somewhere far way. that wasn't possible anymore, but he still had you. you were his safe space, his place of hiding, and you meant everything to him. which is exactly why he had to hide you from anyone who could report your relationship to his family. many people warned you about being so close with a gaunt, but you both knew better.

many late nights sneaking around the castle and secret touches

you and ominis were once again sneaking around the castle, desperately trying to avoid peeves. his wand was leading both of you in the direction of the undercroft, linked arm in arm. when you two had gotten to the spot you made years ago, you would spend hours basking in each others presence. in the late hours of the night, ominis would make up for his lack of vision through sight and memorize everything about you. gentle touches along your face, kisses along your cheeks, forehead, eyelids, even. this man wants nothing more than to absolutely worship you, he thinks of you as his saving grace.

expect fear of his family

to put it lightly, ominis is terrified at the idea of his family ever finding you. he will do anything in his power to protect you. when the new fifth year tells him they need his help with sebastian, you are not coming, and that's final. he doesn't know what dangers may lie there. going back to the undercroft, he promises you many things, promises he will hold to his heart forever. "i will always protect you, my love" with a kiss as light as a feather below your ear. "you are so perfect" with your foreheads leaned against each other, and his hand rubbing your back.

garreth weasley:

good girl x bad boy (even if you aren't a girl)

you were never one to break rules in any way, always trying to keep up with your academics. you weren't at the top of your class, but you were up there and you had good relationships with your professors. which is why it was a little surprising that garreth weasley, the schools infamous "troublemaker" was talking to you right now. it was almost more surprising he knew your name. "y/n, help me out. please." "weasley, i am not stealing a dumb feather for you, please go back to making your wiggenweld potion."

lowkey cringed having to write troublemaker

also a bit of enemies to lovers

you were already annoyed enough that day, and the last thing you needed was weasley dragging you into his antics. though, fate was not on your side when you were walking out of the library and got dragged into a row of bookcases. "what the hell? let go of-" you were quickly cut off when garreth wrapped his hand around your mouth and kept you against a bookcase until you heard an angry professor sharp storm past. now whispering, you ask "what the hell is wrong with you?" just for him to cup the side of your face and kiss your cheek before smirking and walking away. "thank you, darling!"

it's definitely unexpected when you start dating, but not unwelcome.

his rebellious nature started to grow on you, not that you would do some of the stuff that he does around the castle. truth be told, he does find it adorable when you come up to him and proudly told him you skipped one class period. your professors and classmates alike are definitely shocked when they see you two laughing quietly together in the back of the class, but you convince him to study more and the improvement in his grades does not go unnoticed by your professors.

loves embarrassing you in public

he would never push your limits too far, but he loves teasing you in public whenever he can. he was always convinced he wouldn't be into pda, but then he met you. how could he resist from it if you were going to squirm away like that? if you told him you were uncomfortable with this he wouldn't, of course. but if you let him he would have the time of his life very obviously pulling you into an empty room when you were on your way to class.

amit thakkar:

academic rivals

amit frustrated you. you were at the top of your class for a while now, until he got out of second place and replaced you. this grabbed your attention on him, constantly glaring at him in class and in the hallways, which made you fall behind more. what was even more infuriating is that he didn't do anything more than give you a small smile in class. in fact, he admired you and your wit, and your dedication to staying at the number one spot drew him into you.

since he's the sweet man he is, he'd probably lead to your friendship

after you finally got your spot back, you didn't stop studying. there was no way anyone was going to take your spot again. astronomy was almost over, and the rest of the class was given to spend freely while professor shah handed back the most recent test. "good job, y/n." smirking, you looked at the red 98 on the parchment, turning over to amit to ask what he got. "95, what about you?" your smile could have lit the sky in replacement to the stars, he thinks. "98, maybe i should tutor you sometime." when you walk out of the room, he puts the parchment in his bag, glancing at the bold "100" on it.

people were definitely confused when you went from glaring at him to holding his hand

you were joking when you said you would tutor him, but he held your word to it. it was the week before exams and he actually had to help you grasp the fact that aries is not just a straight line. you could've gotten this long ago, but you noticed yourself becoming entranced with him. how was he so patient with you, and so kind? when you finally got the idea, you went into the exam ready. when you got one point higher than him on the exam, he congratulated you with a tight hug, and when you separated, you weren't very separated. leaning in, before your lips connected you said one last thing to him before summer. "don't think i'll go easy on you next year, you better write to me."

[happilyhertale]

Heir to the throne - Daemon Targaryen x niece!reader

Summary: You and your uncle Daemon have a somewhat sullen relationship. Daemon thinks you are weak. And you think he is insufferable and manipulative. But how long can you resist your growing affection for him?

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Minors do not continue reading!

Author’s note: Hey you (:

A one-shot Daemon story requested by @dreamlandcreations 🖤 I hope you like it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 5.5 k

Other stories of mine

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As the day of your birth dawned, the enchanting chimes of Kings Landing echoed through the city, filling the air with a symphony of celebration. All the people of the realm witnessed your arrival on this earth. As the beloved first-born daughter of King Viserys and his beloved Queen Aemma, it was well known that your father longed for a son. But your father's deep love for you surpassed all pre-determined expectations.

When your mother's womb was filled with new life again, you were still a child yourself, and the anticipation of the arrival of a male heir to stride through the royal halls grew. But fate had other plans, and your sister Rhaenyra graced the world with her presence. From the moment she entered this realm, an unbreakable bond formed between the two of you. Despite Rhaenyra's temperamental nature, you found harmony in each other's company.

During your childhood together, mischievous pranks became part of your playful repertoire, often driving others to despair. While you found solace in the art of needlework and the treasures of old books in the library, Rhaenyra could always be found in the exercise yard, rolling in the earth and eagerly keeping pace with the boys of the court. But you, too, actually took part in such pursuits and proved that your wild spirit burns just as brightly. Countless times you stood by Rhaenyra's side, defending her against the taunts of those who mocked her only because she was a girl. Together, fearlessly and with combined strength, you unceremoniously threw those who dared to challenge you into the dirt.

Yet the longing for a male heir consumed your father Viserys' heart and overshadowed the vibrant love between your parents. Your mother, despite her best efforts, was tired and exhausted after mourning a dead child in the cradle, suffering two stillbirths and two heartbreaking miscarriages. But a glimmer of hope emerged when she became pregnant again, sparking the anticipation of a long-awaited male successor. Even you and Rhaenyra held on to that hope, for you were reluctant to take on the burden of ruling a kingdom. The duties and benefits of being a princess gave you both far more pleasure. But this pregnancy weighed heavily on your mother, sapping her vitality with each passing day. The signs were obvious to you, for she rarely ventured out of her bath anymore.

You and Rhaenyra started spending a few moments together in bed in the evenings at that time. You had numerous conversations ranging from trivia to the prevailing topic of your mother and her exhausting pregnancy. It was during these intimate exchanges that your fear of childbirth was really ignited.

This fear was only fuelled when your mother died in childbirth. Your mother's untimely passing at the birth of the long-awaited male heir shook you and Rhaenyra to the core. But in the midst of the pain, there was a surprising turn of events when your father called you to him. The seriousness that showed on his face set the tone as you and Rhaenyra stood before King Viserys, waiting for his words.

In a calm and serious tone, he unravelled the story of the Song of Ice and Fire and tied together the threads of the prophetic vision of Aegon the Conqueror. As his hopeful gaze fell upon you, a feeling of trepidation crept over you, for you did not know what he was up to. Your father was trying to divert the succession by preferring you to your uncle Daemon and longing for you to ascend the throne. There was silence in the air, broken only by Rhaenyra's radiant smile. But you shook your head resolutely and refused the iron throne that awaited you. And so the path took its course, granting Rhaenyra her rightful place as heir to the throne.

But what you and Rhaenyra also shared was the joyful anticipation that shot through your veins every time your uncle Daemon visited King's Landing. The moment Caraxes appeared in the sky, your heart beat faster and you quickly made your way to the dragon pit. Hastily you traversed the corridors, longing to catch even a glimpse of your beloved uncle. Gasping for breath, you reached the entrance of the dragon pit and waited patiently for his arrival. It wasn't long before Rhaenyra was at your side, waiting as well. And whenever Daemon finally appeared, a radiant smile lit up both your faces.

Without hesitation, you both sprinted towards him, and with effortless strength, he lifted you both up in his arms and carried you towards the keep. Enchanted, you listened to his every word and listened to tales of epic battles and distant lands he had travelled. But over time, things changed. You grew more mature, older and wiser.

Although you still hold your uncle in high esteem, a bittersweet ambivalence stirs within you. You still enjoyed listening to his stories, even if you feigned a certain disinterest. But his shadowy deeds, which always resonated in the depths of your consciousness, repelled you. The same was true of your uncle. He held you in high esteem, considered you his niece and vowed to protect you from the horrors of this world should he have the power to do so. However, he considered you weak, much like your father, King Viserys. It was Rhaenyra, spirited and rebellious, who attracted his affections more. But such things were of no consequence to you. Gaining his attention was not attractive, at least you kept whispering this to yourself.

One day, the whispers of the servants echoed ceaselessly through the air, like a delicate melody. The news was full of excitement - a vibrant festival was to fill the humble streets of Flea Bottom. Enchanting attractions and captivating performers would parade through the avenues, enthralling all who gathered with their enchanting talents. Naturally, your curiosity was piqued, for it had been far too long since you had joined Rhaenyra on a journey through the secret passages of the keep.

As evening fell and dinner drew to a close, you retired to your chambers. Secretly you dressed in the humble attire of the servants and carefully donned a cloak with a hood that concealed your shining silver locks. With great determination, you approached what appeared to be an ordinary wall in your chambers and exerted a gentle but purposeful push. The wall that obeyed your touch gives way, revealing a hidden passageway that lies beyond. A tingle of anticipation flows through you as you enter the hidden passageways and the familiar excitement within you flares up again.

As you arrive in front of the massive keep, you stare upwards, fascinated by the towering walls that seem almost frightening. Relief washes over you, for you knew that tonight you would escape the confines of this fortress and enjoy the freedom that awaited you. Your path leads you unwaveringly to Flea Bottom, a thriving tapestry of life and pleasure. The narrow streets were teeming with happy people, the air was filled with animated conversation and joyous laughter.

At every corner, artists adorned the bustling scene, showing off their talents and attracting the attention of passers-by. The fascination of it all takes hold of you as your gaze wanders upwards to witness a daredevil performer gracefully crossing a taut rope between two old walls. A melodious laugh escapes your lips, evidence of the sheer wonder and enchantment that has captivated you.

The lure of this uncomplicated existence is undeniably great. What is even more enticing is the anonymity it gives you. Here your hair remains unseen, the darkness hides you from prying eyes. Your purple eyes go unnoticed like a hidden gem. You are no princess, but just an ordinary soul among them.

A woman gracefully hands you a glass of wine and a smile graces your lips in response. As you sip the wine, she leads you into the crowd of dancing people. In the square, musicians serenade and enchant those who sway to their melodies. You find yourself in the midst of the cheering crowd, laughing and twirling in blissful abandon. You spill a little wine but pay no attention to the fleeting mishap. Your hood slips briefly, but you deftly straighten it again, preserving your disguise.

But as you turn around briskly, a sudden shock of surprise passes through you. Standing before you is your uncle, Daemon, wrapped in his own cloak.

"Uncle!" you say, startled. Your eyes are wide and you stop abruptly. You are breathing heavily from all your dancing.

But he only grins at you.

"Well, well... What is our little princess doing here?" he asks you.

You clear your throat slightly, "Well... I just wanted to enjoy the festivities," you say softly.

He smiles at you, "I could see that," he grins at you.

"So you're interested in the festivities? And you even sneak out of the keep to do it?" he asks you.

You look at him, "Does that surprise you?" you ask him in return.

He shrugs slightly, "Let's put it this way, I didn't expect it"

He looks at you with a look you can't quite place. Your cheeks flush slightly and you look to the side.

"Well... I have to go, take care princess," he says with a slight grin and continues walking.

You are left a little irritated.

The next day you learn that Rhaenyra was in a brothel with Daemon and you are shocked. You met Daemon on the streets of Flea Bottom, he must have gone straight to a brothel afterwards... When you hear this, you immediately go in search of Rhaenyra.

When you find her, she is standing talking to Ser Criston.

"Rhaenyra," you say, and she responds with a smile.

"Can we talk for a moment?" you ask her.

Ser Criston steps away from you.

When you are alone, you look at her.

"You were in a brothel with Uncle Daemon?" you ask her.

Her eyes grow wide.

"How do you know about that?" she asks you, horrified.

"Well... secrets don't stay secrets here for long... Especially when two silver-haired people visit a brothel," you say.

She swallows visibly.

"So it's true?" you ask her.

She grabs your arm, "He didn't take my maidenhead, I swear," she says to you.

"But how can you be so careless as to go to a brothel with him?" you ask her.

"Do you know what will happen if this gets out?" you ask her further, "Your reputation will be ruined!"

She bites her lip nervously.

"It won't come out... and if it does...I didn't lose my maidenhead to him," she says softly.

But after your father finds out about it, he is furious. He has Daemon brought to him.

"Give me Rhaenyra to take to wife and we will return the House of the Dragon to its proper glory"

There is a brief silence in the throne room as Daemon speaks the words and lies hungover on the floor.

Viserys kneels over him, "Of course... It's not my daughter you lust for, is it?"

He presses the blade a little more against Daemon's neck, "It's my throne"

Daemon grins just slightly.

"You can take her as your wife... But she will no longer be heir to the throne. I will make y/n heir to the throne. Rhaenyra is no longer pure, too wild to rule a kingdom... Hoping that you cannot corrupt y/n, " Viserys finally says.

Daemon gets angry, "You can't do that!"

Viserys stands up, "You'll see what I can do"

And in a moment that seemed to stand the test of time, your father, in a grand production, announced to the realm that you were the rightful heir to the throne. He justifies this monumental decision by acknowledging that he should have recognised your esteemed position as elder sister from the beginning. Deep down, however, both you and Rhaenyra understand the motivations behind this decision, but the revelation leaves you stunned and unprepared. The thought of assuming the role of queen does not suit your heart's desires, but your father, determined and weary of all stormy arguments, rejects all arguments.

The kingdom is in an uproar, and King Viserys hosts an extravagant ball to celebrate this turning point. With unwavering courage, you step into the limelight, knowing that all eyes will be on you all night and your every move will be closely watched. Countless lords vie for your attention, eager to capture your gaze. You, now the embodiment of attraction, become the most desired woman in the realm, igniting ardent desire from all corners. In the midst of this whirlwind, you find a moment of calm, enjoying a sip of wine in solitude, only to be startled by the sudden appearance of your uncle at your side.

"Niece," he says in greeting.

You look over at him slightly and then drink some more of your wine.

"Uncle," you say back.

After a while his voice resounds, "So you are now heir to the throne"

You nod slightly, "I guess that's right," you say.

He smiles slightly, "You don't seem very pleased about it"

You snort slightly, "Well... if you hadn't taken your other niece to a brothel and started rumours about her virtue... Then I wouldn't have to be here," you say.

"So you're not pleased?" he asks you.

You just look at him.

"Why... Why are you taking her to a brothel in the first place? It's irresponsible and immoral," you say.

"'Excuse me... My highly moral niece... but if we are honest, was I ever moral?" he asks you.

You snort again and he looks at you.

"You were out in Flea Bottom yourself...," he finally replies, but you interrupt him.

"... but I didn't go to a brothel!" you say.

He watches you for a moment.

"I had to take Rhaenyra there... I had to show her... To show her what it means to make political decisions… to fulfil duties and also to accept and live out personal preferences," he tells you.

You shake your head slightly, "You can't think of anything better than taking your niece to your brothel?"

You drink from your wine and look out into the crowd again.

He looks at you, a slight smile curling his lips.

"You wish I had gone to the brothel with you?" he asks suddenly.

You choke on your wine.

"Excuse me?" you ask him.

He grins now, "You wish I had chosen you. When I met you on the streets of Flea Bottom... You wish I had taken you by the hand and..."

But you interrupt him.

"What? No! Of course not!" you say to him, but your cheeks blush slightly.

He just grins even more, "Well... If I had known that your father would now install you as heir to the throne... Then I wouldn't have deprived you of this lesson," he says with the same grin on his face.

"Stop it!" you hiss.

"I have no interest in going to a filthy brothel with you," you say to him and you feel the anger rising inside you.

"Well... we don't have to go to a brothel either... I can teach you this lesson in a soft bed," his eyes sparkle as he says this to you.

You just look at him.

"Do you always have to be like this? So manipulative? Maybe you should stop trying to corrupt your brother's daughters... At some point there won't be any children left to succeed to the throne... Or is that what you want? So that you can be named heir to the throne again?" you say to him.

Daemon's gaze darkens, but you simply step away from him.

You leave the ball. You quickly try to put a great distance between you and Daemon. You don't know what it is, but the thought of being in a brothel with Daemon stirs something in you. But you quickly move on towards your chambers.

As the morning light wakes you and you step out of your chambers after your morning routine, a bittersweet realisation comes to you - Daemon has once again left King's Landing.

But in the midst of this recurring absence, a new responsibility now weighs on your shoulders and demands your attention. Your father, concerned for your future, keeps dropping hints about potential suitors who might be worthy of you. Some of these suggestions make you recoil in horror, as they are unfamiliar names of lords you have never heard of. Others, with some logic, sound like good partners. But one name keeps coming up - Laenor Velaryon. Laenor, a kind-hearted soul, would guarantee you a respectful marriage. But deep inside you long for a marriage that promises more than a husband who prefers to spend his free time in the company of other men.

While King Viserys wants to leave the final decision to you, he nevertheless tries in his own discreet way to win your heart for this union. Inwardly, you cannot help but envy Rhaenyra, who now enjoys the freedom of choice, unaffected by the burden of political affairs. Yet you are taken aback when she too suddenly expresses her desire for an engagement. Ser Harwin's proposal to marry her is announced by your father, and the glow on Rhaenyra's lips betrays her joy. After much deliberation, your father has given his consent to this betrothal, sealing the path Rhaenyra will take.

Preparations for Rhaenyra's wedding are in full swing, putting an enchanting aura in the air. Although Rhaenyra is no longer heir to the throne, no expense or effort is spared to ensure a magnificent wedding. While you are busy with your own new tasks, you are all the more surprised when your sister's wedding is suddenly only a few days away.

The capital city is welcoming an influx of distinguished guests, with unfamiliar faces packing the halls. Amidst this swirl, fate once again crosses your path with Laenor. Warm greetings are exchanged, and in the absence of your father's watchful presence, you are indeed able to engage in pleasant conversation. Unfortunately, your father never fails to highlight Laenor's presence whenever he can.

On the auspicious day of the wedding, there is a grand ball where wine flows copiously, instilling in you a sense of calm. This makes it a little easier to bear your father's insistent insistence that you dance with Laenor. Your gaze, however, inevitably wanders to Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin, who always wear beaming smiles on their lips. Genuine joy fills your heart for them.

Suddenly a murmur goes through the crowd, growing louder with each passing moment. As you look up from your seat at the head table, you catch sight of the entrance of your uncle, who has been absent throughout the ceremony. Surprised, but not completely taken aback, it seems only logical that he naturally needs to make a special appearance. He exudes an undeniable charm as he strides into the hall, his lips curved into a subtle smile. Your eyes meet briefly, and you detect a hint of mirth in his eyes. Hastily, you avert your gaze and seek refuge in the depths of your wine glass.

Daemon makes his way to Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin and offers them his congratulations before gracefully walking around the table. Finally, he settles across from you. As you avoid his gaze, your attention is abruptly taken by your father, who suddenly stands before you. A smile graces your face as you lift your gaze to meet him, only to lose it again when you see Laenor standing beside your father.

"Y/n. I thought you were going to show Laenor your new dancing skills?" your father asks you.

You smile, "Where do you keep getting these ideas from?," you mumble.

But gracefully you rise from your seat and put on a gentle smile, as if the weight of the world is light on your shoulders. Together with Laenor, you glide to the dance floor, a harmonious couple amidst the lively atmosphere. Laenor, a skilful dance partner, engages you in pleasant conversation. But his presence does not arouse any feelings beyond the warmth of a cousin.

After a few dances, a growing restlessness overcomes you and you long for solitude and a break from the boisterous mood. Seeking solace, you retreat to the edge of the dance floor, the rim of your wine cup finding comfort at your lips. A single, daring sip empties the vessel and quiets your inner turmoil for a moment. In the distance, your father approaches Laenor once more and engages him in conversation. The scene almost amuses you as you notice that Laenor is beginning to seem annoyed too.

You quickly take another cup of wine and leave the festivities before your father can address you again. Cup in hand, you stroll through the corridors and make your way to your chambers. Weary from the day's events, your only desire is to wrap yourself in solitude. As you enter your private chambers, you free yourself from the confines of your dress and let out a relieved sigh as the lacing at your back loosens.

The garment falls to the floor and surrenders to gravity. Wearing a flowing nightgown, you approach the mirror and carefully untangle the intricately braided pigtails that adorned your head. As you lift the brush and prepare to run it through your silken tresses, an unwelcome interruption sounds in the form of a sharp knock on the door. Irritation flickers across your face as you turn to face the unwelcome disturbance.

"Who is it?" you ask. But no one answers. You sigh and go to the door. You open it.

"What is it?" but you pause as you see your uncle.

"Uncle?" you ask.

He smiles slightly at you, "Niece," he says.

You look at each other for a while.

"Won't you invite me in?" he finally asks you.

"I'm not sure I want to," you reply.

He raises his eyebrows a little, but you take a step to the side.

His hands are behind his back and he smiles at you. Slowly he enters your chambers. You close the door and watch him. You see his broad back and notice that he seems to be looking around.

"Not much has changed in your chambers..." he says somewhat absently as he stands at your desk.

You look at him and smile a little, "Did you come here to inspect my chambers?" you ask him.

He turns to you and has to smile a little again, "No... of course not...", he says almost quietly.

He lets his fingers glide lightly over a book lying on your desk.

"You seemed annoyed," he says finally.

Now you are the one raising your eyebrows, "What?" you ask him.

"Well... At the ball... You seemed upset. Upset that Viserys kept trying to badger you with Laenor's presence," he says, smiling at you.

You roll your eyes a little as you think about it again. "Is it that noticeable?" you ask him.

You walk over to the table and drink from your wine again.

"I don't want to marry Laenor," you say finally.

"I like Laenor, he's nice. But I don't want a man who prefers the company of men," you say, turning to face Daemon.

Daemon grins slightly.

"That's understandable... You want a man who desires you," he says to you.

You have to chuckle a little, but shake your head slightly, "I don't think that's an argument that will meet with my father's understanding," you say.

"Well...", Daemon says, "You will be queen, you should decide who you marry... who will rule with you", he says to you.

You drink again of your wine and look at him. You see a sparkle in his purple eyes.

"I could take you to a brothel, if that would help you decide," he says suddenly.

This hits you unexpectedly and you suddenly have to laugh. Your laughter infects Daemon and you hear him chuckle slightly.

"Thank you very much for your offer, uncle. But I think I will decline," you say with a smile.

You look at each other and notice how close you are. You can literally feel his breath on your skin. Suddenly his lips are on yours. You gasp briefly, but then his hand is on your cheek and he holds you tight. The kiss is wild and passionate. You put your hands on his firm chest and pull him closer to you by his waistcoat. You whimper slightly as he gently bites your lower lip. Daemon breaks the kiss briefly. He is breathing heavily. His thumb wanders gently over your lower lip. His eyes seem to be watching your face closely, as if finding even the slightest sign that you don't want this.

"Do you really want me to corrupt another daughter of the king?" he asks you in his deep voice.

You are also breathing heavily and look at him.

"Shut up, uncle," you say simply.

He chuckles lightly and lets his hand slide down your neck. He pulls you close again and kisses you.

He pushes you backwards slightly and you notice the back of your thighs pressing against the desk. His hands are suddenly on your hips and with one quick movement you are sitting on the desk. Daemon is standing between your legs and he starts kissing your neck. Slowly he lets his lips and tongue glide over your soft skin. His fingers slowly slide along your thigh and you gasp.

"Is that okay?" Daemon whispers as he continues to caress your neck. You just nod and wrap your legs around him.

You feel a slight grin on his lips. You start to unbutton his shirt. More and more of his muscular chest is exposed. You notice slight scars on his skin as he lets go of your neck to pull his shirt over his head. You breathe heavily. You let your fingers wander gently over his chest and feel the scars. You bite your lip lightly.

"Shall we stop for a moment and admire each other's bodies?" he asks you with a teasing undertone.

You look up into his eyes. "Shut up, I said," you whisper. He chuckles softly and kisses you again. His hand continues to wander along your thigh. It slides under your nightgown and you let your hand slide down his neck. You gently grab his neck and pull him closer to you. You notice how your undergarments are getting more and more soaked. When his fingers suddenly slide over your folds, you moan into his mouth. He doesn't hesitate for long and pushes your undergarments aside. He feels your wetness immediately and his fingers are immediately soaked.

A deep groan forms in his chest. His fingers find your clit and start to leave firm but gentle movements on it. You moan again and gasp. You grip his neck tighter and he grins at you.

"You like that..." he whispers.

You just whimper as he moves his fingers faster. You kiss him again and try to undo his trousers at the same time. But you are distracted by his fingers. When he suddenly inserts two fingers into you, your efforts stop.

"Daemon...", you moan a little louder now.

"Yes...? I must prepare you for my cock...", he murmurs simply and lets his fingers slide into you.

You look into his eyes. Your cheeks are flushed and you are breathing heavily. He smiles at you. You moan as he lets his fingers disappear inside you again and again. You close your eyes and pull him towards you. Your lips find his lips and when he inserts a third finger, you just whimper. But you start to move your hips towards him.

Suddenly you hear him open his trousers and they slip to the floor. Your tongues continue to dance around each other as he suddenly stops inserting his fingers into you. Instead, he reaches for your undergarments and pulls them down your legs. You breathe heavily and watch his movements. You see him bite his lip as he just drops your undergarments on the floor. But then your gaze falls on his body. Daemon is standing in front of you without his shirt and trousers. And you see his entire size.

You now bite your lip as you look at his cock. It is big and thick and you can already see a few drops polling around at its tip.

His big hand pumps a few times his hot length and then he lets the tip of his cock slide through your wetness. You hear him grunt softly and can't hold back a moan of your own.

He kisses you again and lets his hand wander to your ass. Slowly he pulls you closer to him and you feel him slowly push his cock into you. You bite your lip. You gasp as his big member almost splits you. But it feels so good. He gives you time to adjust to his size. You start to move your hips towards him. And he takes that as a sign and his thrusts become stronger. With each thrust he is deeper inside you. His grunts get louder and you start moaning in unison with him. He fills you completely. Your arms are around his neck and you close your eyes. His hands are on your hips and he makes you slam down on his cock faster. You cry out in passion. The table beneath you starts to creak with each thrust, it is obviously not designed for such activities.

Suddenly one of his hands is on your shoulder and he pushes you down gently. You follow his instruction and lie down on the table. Immediately his hands are on your hips again, setting the pace. You wrap your legs around his waist to push him closer to you. The slapping of your naked skin and your lustful sounds fill your chambers. With each thrust, he grazes your sweet spot in your wet core. You moan out. Daemon notices how your walls clench around his cock.

Without hesitation, he begins to rub your pearl with his thumb. You reach for his biceps as a wave of excitement floods through you.

"Daemon..." you gasp.

"It's all right, I've got you. Show me how good it is for you... Come on my cock," you hear him say in his deep voice. His thumb moves faster and his thrusts become harder.

And then an incredible feeling floods you.

You moan, but his thrusts don't let up.

"Daemon," you moan and continue to grab his biceps.

"Yes... Yes!" he just grunts. You close your eyes and are a moaning mess. And then you hear him groan loudly. His moans become softer until they subside completely. You are both breathing heavily. You are still lying on your desk. Daemon is still standing between your legs. He lets his head hang down and you feel him slowly pull his cock out of you. You notice his cum leaking out of you and dripping onto the floor. But you can't move. Your eyes are closed and you try to catch your breath. You notice how he gently caresses your thigh.

"I wanted to take Rhaenyra's maidenhead that night... In the brothel...", you suddenly hear him say.

You open your eyes and look at him. He looks at you closely.

Neither of you says anything.

When suddenly he breaks the silence again, "But I couldn't"

You continue to look at him.

"Why?" you ask quietly.

He swallows briefly, "When I saw you that night. You, the perfect, good princess who did something forbidden... That somehow confused me..." he says quietly. His fingers continue to caress your thigh.

"I don't know, I just couldn't," he says a little louder.

You have to smile slightly and sit up.

"So my uncle does have a conscience," you say teasingly.

He has to smile slightly, "Then I guess I shouldn't have taken your maidenhead"

You smile, "Who said you did?"

He looks at you a little startled.

"I was joking," you say before he can say anything.

This time he has to laugh. He starts stroking your cheek.

"Maybe your father had better not find out about this," he says suddenly. But you have the feeling that there is a hint of sadness.

You look at him. Suddenly you have to smile slightly.

"Except... When I tell him I want to marry you," you say.

His eyes grow wide.

"What...?" he whispers.

"Well... He wants me to get married. And I get to have the last word," you say.

"But you are so often annoyed with me," he says with a smile.

"Well... at least that guarantees it won't be boring," you say quietly.

Daemon just shakes his head slightly and leans forward. He kisses you softly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @dreamlandcreations

[leighsartworks216]

What He Wants

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I was writing smth to be a second chapter to All The Gentle Things, but then I wanted to explore this further sooooo yeah. Not proofread and I am sooooooooo tired while I write this but the brainrot. You know how it is

Warnings: sex mentions, references to past abuse/trauma, loss of sense of self

Word Count: 1,067

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Astarion, over the span of 200 years, perfected his art of doing exactly what people wanted. Specifically, he knew exactly how to manipulate people through sex. He knew just where to press, exactly when to run his tongue along their lip - everything they wished of him.

Now he had no idea what to do.

It started out exactly the same; he kissed and touched and said everything exactly as you would want to hear it. He did everything he needed to to manipulate you into liking him, into protecting him should Cazador come sniffing around. And then… you turned out to be different. You didn’t see his body as a sex object to be used and tossed away. You saw him. And, gods, if that didn’t just rewrite everything he thought he knew about himself.

You asked him once, late at night while you fought to stay awake, what he liked. He said embroidery and reading and wine, because of course he loved those things. But then you’d corrected yourself. Asked what he enjoyed physically. Touches and kisses - that sort of stuff. And he didn’t have a clue. You looked up at him through heavy lids, waiting. The best answer he could come up with was, " This. I like cuddling with you." But that was it. You didn’t press further, snuggling in closer and letting the dreams overwhelm you, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He distanced himself for a few days, turning that question over and over and over in his mind until he thought he’d go insane, before finally gathering the confidence to tell you. You, in all your grace, smiled and told him that it was okay, that you could try helping him learn what he liked, little by little.

That’s how he got here, he supposed, face held lovingly in your battle-calloused hands. The ends of your fingers tangle carefully in the curls around his ears, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones and under his eyes. You lavish him with this attention without question, without any thoughts of reward… And he loved it.

Astarion was selfish by nature - he always had been, even before his unfortunate death and undeath. He’d had to be selfish for 200 years just to survive, grabbing and stealing any morsel of food he could. And for 200 years he had to give himself away night after night, unwittingly placing his body in the hands of other selfish, naive fools. He wanted to be more than just selfish with food. He wanted to be selfish for attention. Your attention. He wanted to drown in it.

You press light kisses to his cheeks, so soft it feels like nothing more than butterflies’ wings brushing his skin. He sighed, relaxing into it. In the back of his mind, he felt awful for accepting your affection like this. His hands should be touching you, not sitting in his lap. His lips should be filling your every desire, not waiting placidly for you to initiate. But every time he tried to lean forward, capture your mouth, your hands held him firmly in place. If he tried to reach out and touch you, you would push his hands back into his lap, with all the patience in the realms. He willed the guilt to go away.

You take his lip between your teeth and he can’t help himself from watching through half-lidded eyes; watching as you smile with a sort of fond deviousness as you hear the quiet breath he lets out. You don’t bite hard enough to break the skin. All you do is tug on it and let it go, before tracing over the slight indent with your thumb. His undead heart would be utterly racing at such tender care. He places a kiss on the pad of your thumb, and you smile even wider. You’re so beautiful. What did he do to deserve you?

He expects it when you lean in and finally kiss him properly. What he doesn’t expect is how uncertain he is. He has no idea what to do. How can he pleasure you? What does he want? What would make you feel good? What would make him feel good? He’s so torn, a low growl of frustration rising in the back of his throat. But you, saint that you are, pull away with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You brush the wrinkle from between his brows, urging him to stop being upset with himself.

He has no choice but to listen. So he thinks about himself - what he would want - as you brush his hair back and kiss his jaw and thumb at one of his earrings. And when you lean back in and carefully meet his lips with yours, he begins to figure it out.

Your hands don’t hold him in place as he tilts his head to kiss you better, falling headlong into the safety you offer. He wants to taste you. So he hesitantly opens his mouth, and you follow without question. His tongue brushes your lip, slips inside your mouth to meet yours, and he loves it. You taste divine. You move in sync with him, following along like a partner in a dance. You do what he wants. It’s thrilling.

He fully relaxes into it. Into you. That damned voice in the back of his head quietens for the first time in too long. There is no quilt to be found here; no shame. He wants this, you want this. A shuddering breath of relief fills the kiss as he lets go, as he places himself fully in your hands, as he learns what is nice and what is too much.

When he pulls away so you have a chance to breathe, he presses his forehead against yours, and stays close enough your noses brush against each other. He reaches up and holds your hand to his cheek, keeping it pressed against his skin as he leans into it, like a cat vying for a scratch beneath its chin.

“Thank you,” he whispers. You open your eyes. He looks so at ease. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, before kissing each finger in turn. “This is a gift.” He presses your hand back to his cheek and catches your mouth in another kiss. Shorter, but still so full of love. “I won’t forget it.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red

[jessikahathaway]

Roomie - PJM (M)

Okay, to be fair. I did get a little unhinged with this. But I wanted Roomie Jimin smut something fierce so here it is.

This is pretty unedited, other than the lovely @quirkybtsarmy taking a look at it for me. Thank you babes I appreciate you!

Pairing: Park Jimin X Fem!Reader

Genre: Slice of Life!AU, Roommates!AU, Romance, Smut

Warnings: Reader is BLuNt (but she tries very hard to explain, she's not mean about it), it's pretty much pwp with a zesting of story. Also Jimin is bisexual, but reader is awks and makes some kinda ignorant assumptions (she really means well, she's just emotionally constipated dw dw). Smut warnings: Jimin's Filthy Mouth (this mans ya'll I can't resist-), penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (she's on the pill and all but for the love of everything use protection I stg I'm watching you, be safe for me pls), creampie, multiple orgasms, Seulgi seeing reader's puppy eyes for JM three thousand miles away.

Words: 9.9k (it's pwp... *nervous sweating*)

Rating: 18+

I don't know how I feel about this story, but I wanted to post cause I finished something and it hasn't been fifty years since my last update.

Pls enjoy, if it makes no sense I'm sorry-

Summary: After a disappointing slew of failed sexual escapades, you find yourself willing to do some crazy things.

Falling for your roommate not included.

Another failed sexual encounter. 

That makes four in the past two months!

Now, you weren’t really one to sleep around too much. But, hell, it’s your second to last year of your undergrad and life just fucking sucked. Too much work, too little sleep. It was all fucking ridiculous to be completely honest and all you wanted was a good lay. 

Apparently, college fuck boys aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. 

At least, not the ones you’ve gotten it on with. 

You unlocked your dingy apartment and kicked your heeled boots off. 

It was barely past one in the morning and your roommate was probably asleep. 

Sweet Jimin. 

Well, sometimes. Other times he was savage asshole Jimin but he didn’t usually make an appearance unless you’d left your laundry in the washer...

Again.

Jimin had been your roommate since the beginning of undergrad and he’d been a saving grace for you. You wouldn’t consider the two of you best of friends, but you were closer than most. Your undergraduate program was forensics with the interest of going into some kind of criminal justice but anthropology had more promising opportunities in regards to pay... Needless to say, Jimin being a performing arts major was definitely a reprieve from the stuffy labs and beakers you found yourself surrounded by on the daily.

You winced as you sat down on the couch. 

Honestly, you should’ve just left when the dude said you were wet enough without lube.

“Fucking assholes,” you growled, trying to sit comfortably. 

“We’ve all got one,” Jimin chuckled from his bedroom doorway. 

You shot him a glare, grimacing at the pain in your thighs and vagina. 

When you say you want someone to destroy you, you at least expect a little pleasure with that experience. Fuck...

Now, you’ve had good sex in the past. You’ve definitely had men make you cum, more than once. But the last time that had happened was getting further and further away. 

The sexy as fuck librarian at home, Kim Namjoon, had rearranged your guts after a cute little coffee date. Needless to say, you’d gladly let him destroy you again. 

“-okay?”

“Huh?” you said lamely, turning your head to fully look at your roommate. 

Jimin just sighed before coming over to you to sit next to you on the couch. His weight jostled you and made you huff in discomfort. 

“I asked, if you were okay?” he said, crossing one leg over the other as he lounged against the back of your couch.

You frowned, crossing your arms in obvious annoyance. “No, I’m not okay. Men around here don’t seem to understand that condoms may come with a little bit of lube but that doesn’t mean I’m wet enough to be fucked like a fucking ragdoll for five minutes.”

Jimin winced at your phrasing. You sighed and waved your hand. “Sorry,” you said, rubbing your face. 

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, raising a brow. 

“Cause you don’t want to hear about the woes of a stupidly horny female undergrad,” you said.

Jimin had only ever dated men, at least in the time you’ve known him. And that’s been the past three and a half years. You’d never explicitly asked him his sexual orientation, because it really didn’t matter to you. He was a good person, so who he dated wasn’t really your business. 

“If the horny female undergrad is you then I do want to hear it,” he said, pinching your cheek affectionately. 

You slapped his hand away and nodded, acquiescing to his request of ‘tea’.

“You remember when I went home for Easter? I had sex with Namjoon?” you said, already drooling at the memory. 

“The guy you wouldn’t shut up about for three weeks? Yeah, I remember his ‘god tier’ dick,” he sighed. 

“It’s almost new years... and he’s the last guy who made me cum,” you pouted. 

Jimin’s eyes widened, then his face turned confused. “But... But you’ve brought a couple guys home since then. I know that for damn sure,” he said.

“Just because I brought them home doesn’t mean they made me cum, Jimin,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. 

All you wanted was some good dick, was that too much to ask for? 

“Damn, that’s shitty... I’m sorry, Y/N, really,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You leaned forward on your knees, not without a flash of pain on your face. Jimin rubbed your back soothingly.

“Jeez, did this guy fuck you with a pole? Why do you keep making that face?” he asked. 

“Remember when I said men around here don’t know what lube is?” you asked, resting your face in your hands. 

“You’re shitting me...”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ for dramatic effect.

“Who is he? I’ll show him what fucking lube is while I fuck him up the ass without it,” he grumbled, feeling how tense your lower back was. 

You snorted, leaning into him comfortably. His gentle rubbing was helping your pain just a smidge. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll just soak in the tub for a minute and hopefully that’ll help,” you said. 

“Seems like a bummer since you didn’t even get to cum from it,” he frowned. 

“Sure is,” you said, letting out a big sigh into the dim light of your apartment.

Jimin just let you sit there for a minute, his hand releasing some of the tension from your aching muscles. You felt your eyes getting droopy and Jimin chuckled. “Come on, Y/N, you’ll be pissed at me if I let you sleep out here, get up,” he encouraged, moving to pull you up.

You let out a soft yelp of pain, thighs cramping up and causing you to stumble into Jimin’s arms like some stupid rom-com. Jimin’s face widened in panic as he grabbed you, trying to see what hurt. “Shit! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was that bad, oh Y/N...”

You pouted up at him and Jimin just sighed before hauling you up into his arms. A sharp squeak left your throat as you clung to him so you didn’t fall. “Don’t squirm like that or your ass is going to hurt more than it already does,” he scolded. 

Biting your lower lip you just nodded, resting against him as he carried you to your room. Jimin tossed some comfortable clothes to you, a simple pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts you’d stolen at some point. He claimed it didn’t fit anymore and offered it to you when he’d found you wearing it on laundry day. 

If he was being honest, he just liked seeing you in his clothes. You had a cute ass that was barely covered by that shirt and fuck if he wasn’t going to take advantage of that, especially since you were clueless to his attraction to you.

It was true Jimin had only dated men since you’d moved in with him. But, what you didn’t know was his last relationship before your friendship had been with a woman. And it had ended pretty badly. She’d kicked him out of their apartment and he’d been homeless for about two months before his friend, Taehyung, had needed a roommate in the apartment you two now shared. 

He’d been a little adverse to women since his ex fucked him over, and he’d been openly bisexual for years so he’d dated men and hooked up with men exclusively for the past couple years. But you were making him want to start considering women again. 

Although, he didn’t really want to rush into anything with you. And it was certainly fun to tease you with lingering touches and watch your flustered expressions. 

Jimin wasn’t an idiot. He knew you found him attractive, you were the one putting a label on him, and he wasn’t going to correct you until you openly asked. 

He may be a touch of a sadist in his spare time.

“Do you want some painkillers?” Jimin asked, tossing the clothes he’d picked at you.

“Yeah, can you grab me some while I get these on?” You asked, reaching for your makeup wipes. 

“Sure thing,” he said, nodding and heading to the bathroom. You tossed your other clothes in the hamper and managed to tug the new panties on without much ceremony. You were sore, but the pain was dulling as you moved around a bit. 

You bent over to grab the t-shirt off the ground, it fell when you’d clambered out of bed to change. 

And Jimin had never been more thankful for his timing. 

Your perky ass greeted him as he came back into your room with a cup of water and tylenol. Jimin smirked and let out a low whistle as he blatantly stared at your panty clad behind. 

You jumped up and covered your chest with the t-shirt. “Hey! D-Don’t whistle at me!” you puffed your cheeks out in irritation and Jimin just laughed. 

“Sorry, I was just appreciating the view,” he said, walking past you and setting the medicine and water on your bedside table. 

“You can’t appreciate the true glory that is my ass,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Wanna bet? Drop your panties and I’ll show you how much I appreciate it,” he said, eyes sharp as he looked over his shoulder at you. 

Your throat tightened. 

Jimin made comments like this sometimes and it always made your chest throb... and, uh, other areas. Because he looked like he was serious. 

“Don’t tease me,” you said, shooing him with your hand that wasn’t desperately holding the shirt to cover your chest. 

He raised a brow before making a noise of acknowledgment. “If you say so,” he said, waving before turning and heading towards the door. 

Just before you dropped your shirt to put it on you heard Jimin’s voice from the hall. “I know how to use lube if you ever want a demonstration!” he called. 

After that you heard the sound of his door shutting.

And the sound of your heart beating really,

Really

Fucking loud.

--

You sat in the cafeteria after another brutal lecture.

Mid-terms were coming up and then winter break would begin and you’d go home to see your family for a week or two. 

You’d already drank three iced coffees and were considering a redbull when you felt the urge to pee. With a heavy sigh you grabbed your stuff and headed to the bathroom. 

You walked in and the sound of soft smacking filled your ears. 

“Fuck, you taste so good, Jimin~” a sweet voice called. 

Jimin?!

You looked in the mirror and saw a pretty girl pressed up against the bathroom wall, but more importantly you saw your roommate. Park Jimin, with his tongue shoved halfway down this girl's throat.

In your stupor you’d forgotten to grab the door, and it slammed closed after your entrance. 

Jimin and the girl jumped apart, both flushed with puffy, kiss swollen lips. 

His shirt was rumpled from her hands and his hair was slightly tousled like she’d had her hands in it. 

The girl coughed awkwardly. “S-Sorry, we’ll head out,” she said, rubbing her neck awkwardly. 

“Uh, it’s fine,” you said, swallowing hard. 

“Sorry, Y/N,” Jimin said, fixing his shirt a bit. 

Jimin’s make out buddy looked at him in confusion. “You know her?” she asked. It wasn’t offended, just curious. 

“Yeah, we’re roommates,” he said with a gentle tone. “She’s cool.”

You nodded slowly. “Y-Yeah, if you need the apartment no big deal. I’ll be studying with Yena tonight pretty late so, yeah. Um, cool,” you said, giving them a little thumbs up before hurrying past and into a stall. 

You heard them leave the bathroom and you weren’t sure why your heart was beating so fast. 

With frantic fingers you dialed the only person who could make heads or tails of this situation. 

Jimin’s ex, Min Yoongi. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Yoongi and Jimin had ended things pretty amicably and you two had gotten close during their six month relationship. 

“I just saw Jimin kiss a girl,” you said. “Full on, his put his tongue in her mouth what-”

“Are you really calling me to tell me my ex is kissing a girl? What part of this sounded like a good idea to you-?”

“I always thought he... didn’t swing that way?” you winced at your phrasing. Words weren’t your strong suit. 

“Y/N, did you ever ask him?” Yoongi sighed, no doubt rubbing his face in annoyance like he always does when you’re being obtuse. 

“I didn’t want to be creepy! That’s not exactly a conversation that comes up too often!”

“It does if you have a crush on them,” he pointed out. 

You were about to argue when you found that... the fucker was right.

Ever since you’d moved in with Jimin, you’d found him attractive. He was charismatic, funny and kind. He was comfort embodied and he was always there if you needed him. 

But he’d never expressed interest in you and then you saw his boyfriends and one night stands and... well, made an assumption. 

“So... all this time I could’ve gotten his dick-”

“I’m gonna hang up,” Yoongi warned. 

“No! Wait, wait, I’m sorry, I need advice, serious advice,” you begged. 

“If you’re going to ask how to seduce my ex, it won’t take much,” he said, chuckling. 

“Huh?” you said, head turning to the side like a confused puppy.

Yoongi sighed loudly into the phone and shook his head. 

Always so emotionally constipated, you were.

“He likes you, we broke up because we both knew that firstly: we’d work better as friends, and two: he was thirsting over his female roommate.”

The words shocked you to the core. 

“B-But he was kissing-”

“When did Jimin and I break up? Three months ago or something, right?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. 

“Yeah, why?” you huffed.

“Jesus, Y/N, if you’d been pining after someone and they weren’t getting the hint wouldn’t you try to move on too?” he said. 

“Move on!? But he never said-”

“You know the last time he dated a woman she left him homeless,” Yoongi said, quietly. “It really fucked him up for a while. She wasn’t the nicest, from what I understand. But, that’s a conversation for him to have with you... not me,” he stated.

Your heart cracked a bit at the thought of someone betraying Jimin and making him suffer. 

“If you’re serious about him, let him know. If not, let him down easy. I gotta go, Y/N, good luck...”

--

Apparently Jimin didn’t wind up needing the apartment that night. 

Cause when you walked in at damn near midnight, strung out on caffeine you found him curled up on the couch watching a tv show comfortably. 

“Hey,” you called, toeing off your shoes before heading into the living room with him.

Jimin turned, giving you a kind grin before patting the couch next to him. You crawled up onto the cushions before falling into his lap in a heap.

He was startled for a moment before he patted your shoulder.

“I’m dumb,” you mumbled into his thigh.

“I can neither agree nor disagree without the appropriate information,” he said, trying not to laugh at your obvious distress.

“Park Jimin, if the following words offend you I apologize but I’m on almost twenty four hours of no sleep and I’m crashing from my third Red Bull of the evening so please, understand any ability to form coherent statements is far beyond me,” you sighed.

Jimin raised a brow, you were still talking to his thigh. “I understand, but I don’t think you’ll offend me, Y/N.”

“Jimin,” you said, finally lifting your head so your tired gaze would match with his.

Yena hadn’t helped much other than saying you needed to talk to him.

She was far more forward with her feelings than you. She was unapologetically herself and it was something you loved and envied about her.

“What’s up?” Jimin asked.

Your heart was in your throat. 

You just had to be thoughtful about how you asked these questions-

“Are you gay?” You asked, completely monotone and the look on Jimin’s face made you wince.

“Right to the chase, huh?”

“S-Sorry, I’m not-fuck… I’m just, I want…”

Jimin watched you flounder for a moment. Your face was panicked and embarrassed as you scrambled to explain yourself.

“I’m not, at least. Not entirely,” he said, leaning back with you half in his lap.

Your face was dumbstruck as you looked at him.

“N-No?” You asked.

Jimin smiled and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I lost my virginity to a woman. But my first love was a man. But, as of recently I can see how my sexuality would sway towards one gender,” he said. “Her name was Lyla, she was a few years older than me. And she broke my heart, badly too. She was obsessed with her image, she made me so self conscious… I wasn’t happy with her but she wanted me cause I was a good lay and I’m attractive. She didn’t want me,” he said, rubbing your arm. “She wanted superficial parts of me, but not my issues and certainly not my feelings. Just my body.”

“That’s fucking gross,” you pouted, resting your head in his shoulder. “You’re a person, not some fuck doll.”

“Well I do like being a fuck doll sometimes,” he winked, but he squeezed your shoulder. “She kicked me out and I had nothing and no one. I was lucky to find Taehyung and this place. When he left I found you and now here you are,” he said. 

“Here I am…” you said, voice weak.

“And I’m so glad that you are,” he said. “Nothing’s boring with you around.”

You gave a sheepish look. “So…”

“So?” He asked. “Is there a reason you asked me about my sexuality?”

Your palms were sweating as you looked at him.

“I like you…”

Jimin’s face morphed from his teasing grin to a soft smile. 

“Yeah? That’s cute,” he said.

“So…”

“So?”

You huffed in annoyance, he just kept poking you right in that tender spot of your pride. You just wanted him… not for his body or his face or whatever.

You wanted his puffy face in the morning while he made coffee. His laughter that made his whole body shake. You wanted to kiss him and to hold him close.

“Will you go on a date with me?” You asked, eyes big as they looked up at Jimin’s. His heart stammered for a moment.

Your sweet face and voice asking so nicely.

“Mmm, maybe. What are you planning?”

You made a noise of protest. “H-Hey! You can’t ask before you agree, you should be interested in doing stuff with me… if you want to date me,” you said. “You don’t have to of course if you want me to forget it and leave then-”

“Y/N, I’m teasing you,” he said. “I’ll go on the date. When and where?”

Your face was comically twisted into shock. “You’ll go?”

He smirked a bit. “Did you want me to say no?”

“Didn’t want you to… but I wasn’t expecting a yes,” you said, bottom lip between your teeth as you struggled to keep yourself from fidgeting.

“Well, you got one,” he said, leaning closer. “So when and where?”

You thought for a moment. “You have a showcase coming up right?”

Jimin seemed confused but nodded. “Yeah, in a week, why?”

“After, want to get drinks with me?” You asked, looking anywhere but his lips.

“Drinks, huh?” He nodded. “Sounds good to me, I’ll send you the info for the showcase. You can meet me after?”

“The showcase is free for students, right?” You asked.

Jimin chuckled and nodded. “Yes, but the arts is generally not visited often by the science majors,” he said.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t start,” you pouted.

“You’re right,” Jimin said with a big smile, one that was mirrored on your face.

And you could feel the blooms of something yet to be named fluttering in your chest.

—

You were sure if you should buy flowers for him or not.

Was it too much?

But showing up empty handed seemed ridiculous.

Without much more thought put into it you grabbed a nice bouquet of flowers and paid for them, getting into the car to head to the showcase.

You were crammed between a woman who was obviously here for her granddaughter, seeing as how she literally said her name every two seconds, and a very uninterested teen.

But you held your flowers and waited.

Now, you’d never really been one for the arts or theater, but you respected those in their fields. You surely couldn’t do it, but as you watched Jimin take the stage with his partner you saw what it meant.

Every beat of the song, every extension of his fingers had a purpose. There was a message he was conveying.

The beautiful orchestral piece they were playing made a tear come to your eye. They danced like they wouldn’t get to do it again, like separating their hands for an instant was too much to ask.

As the strings settled and the piano took over you watched in amazement as the pair fell to the ground gracefully, reaching for each other but their hands never touched again.

The room erupted into applause and you found yourself doing the same.

You knew Jimin could dance, hell, you’d even seen him practicing in the living room endlessly some nights. You’d wake up to find him asleep on the floor on your trek to the bathroom or on your hunts for a midnight snack. 

But to see it with the atmosphere and the music, you could feel every ounce of charisma and dedication pouring from him and his partner. They bowed to the audience and gave each other a good natured hug as they walked off stage together. 

You desperately wanted to rush after him, compliment his incredible performance but there were still a few pieces left and you did want to see them, especially if they were half as good as Jimin’s they’d be nothing short of incredible.

The showcase ended with everyone coming back on stage and bowing together as a group before moving to the hall to greet their friends and family members who’d come to support them. 

The crowded room made your anxiety spike in your throat, you hunched your shoulders and kept yourself from running. You weren’t an extremely charismatic person, nor were you a big people person. The long stints in your lab and the late nights with your nose buried in your textbooks were proof enough of your natural aversion to the spotlight.

But Jimin seemed to exude the complete opposite energy. 

And you were glad to see him making his way toward you, even with a small group of people chatting with him on the way. His partner, whom you found out to be Kang Seulgi, was incredibly kind and chatted with you while Jimin spoke to his good friend Hoseok who’d choreographed his and Seulgi’s performance.

“Jimin was more nervous than usual today,” she chuckled softly. “I should’ve known it was because you’d be here.”

You flushed at her blunt statement. “Ah, he’s a perfectionist, I’m sure he was just nervous because of the size of the crowd,” you said, trying to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest.

“If you say so,” she said with a raised brow. 

“Y/N,” a soft and sweet voice filled your ears. You turned and saw Jimin smiling at you as he approached. “Those for me?” he asked, eyes revealing a touched expression.

“Yes,” you swallowed. “I-I was hoping it wouldn’t be too much-”

“No,” Jimin said, taking the flowers as you pushed them towards him. “They’re lovely, thank you.”

You nodded, trying to keep your mind from melting at his eyes and the warmth they exuded.

Seulgi chuckled before wishing the both of you a good night, searching for her friends in the crowd. 

Jimin’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in a little closer. You flushed as he invaded your space, however you couldn’t find it in yourself to be disgruntled, even jokingly. 

“Minie...” you whispered, your voice startlingly soft and sweet. Usually you weren’t as demure as you were at this moment. You only used that nickname when you wanted something, and Jimin found it hard to resist your innocent ploy. 

“Yeah baby? What is it?” he asked, teasing as he pulled you in closer. You snuggled into his shirt happily, letting yourself get swept away in the moment just this once. “Mmm, you’re awfully cuddly, did you start without me?” he asked. 

You made a noise of complaint, looking up at him indignantly. “I’ll have you know I’m brave enough to be doing this sober.”

“Yikes.”

“Fuck you.”

“Depends on how many drinks you give me,” he snickered. 

“J-Jimin!”

He rolled his eyes as he started walking towards the exit, his arm slung over your shoulders as he tucked you into his side. You bit your lip as you wrapped your arm around his waist, happily enjoying the warmth as you two stepped into the night’s frigid air. 

The air was bitingly cold but you took a deep breath in and watched as the fog appeared as you exhaled. “Mmm, it’s cold.”

“Brilliant observation.”

You narrowed your eyes in a glare at him before he pinched your cheek and shook your head softly. With a nasty pout you shoved his hand off of your face. “Smart ass.”

Jimin cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes turned glossy as you watched his features turn cold as the air around you. “Don’t be a brat, I’ll smack your ass right here if you act up,” he warned. 

A throb of want pulsed down to your center as your eyes got big in shock towards his forward attitude. You let out a squeak when he took his hand off your jaw before brushing some of your hair from your face. “Are you more submissive?” he asked, voice suddenly much less icy and returning to the warmth you usually received from him.

You choked with embarrassment as you struggled to put distance between you two. “I can’t, I’m gonna go lay in traffic-”

“Y/N! Stop the dramatics-oof! Don’t squirm-hey! Don’t resist!”

“This sounds horrible doesn’t it?” you laughed as he struggled to keep you in his arms as you kept trying to go limp in his hold. 

He laughed right along with you, working to keep you standing but eventually giving up as the two of you laid on the sidewalk right next to the campus’s performing arts center.

Surprisingly there was no snow, even at this time of year. But the concrete underneath you was sucking the warmth from your bones as you felt your teeth starting to chatter relentlessly. 

“We can get up-” Jimin tried to offer but you shook your head.

“No, this is fun,” you sighed.

“Laying on frigid concrete isn’t usually what I’d describe as ‘fun’ Y/N, you should see the school psychiatrist-ouch!” he growled, grabbing your sneaky hand that had pinched his nipple in retaliation.

You burst into laughter all over again. 

There was a lightness in your chest you hadn’t felt in so long.

You loved school and you took pride in preparing for the future you were planning for yourself. It wasn’t something everyone accomplished, not that they needed to, but for you it was a big deal and that led to a lot of pressure. Not only from others, but worst of all-from yourself.

They do say you are your own worst critic, and it was the most goddamn true statement you’d ever heard in your life. 

There was so much pressure not only on you but on everyone going through life. The world was crazy and life was seemingly changing every single day. It was hard not to get wrapped up in all of it, forget that there are simple things still in the world.

Like laying on the freezing cold cement with a stupidly attractive man, one you’d really like to kiss. 

You think you might just.

Just a little.

Without realizing it, you were leaning in.

Until Jimin’s lips were snug against yours. 

Oh god...

Ohgodohgodohgod.

You felt your heart jolt in your chest, even though you pulled back relatively quickly. You squeaked in shock at yourself, covering your mouth as you sat up with hot cheeks. 

“I-I’m so sorry! I’m usually much less-well... Actually I’m probably a little more-uh, ha-”

“Hey,” Jimin soothed, bringing his hands to your waist. “I know you word vomit when you’re nervous, but it’s just me Y/N. You’ve known me for years,” he said, giving you a little bashful smile.

“I-It’s not just you... It’s... It is you and that’s why I’m turning into an uncivilized moron I’m sorry...” you winced. You just didn’t know how to act, on other dates you felt like you had to put up this persona. This mirage of an image that was more appealing than the awkward and fumbling mess you turned into the moment feelings got involved. 

Words still weren’t your strong suit.

Jimin moved closer, causing you to squeak and shut your eyes as you waited with baited breath. When nothing happened you peeked one eye open and saw Jimin’s shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Ah, you’re too cute Y/N, I never knew you’d be this easy to tease,” he cooed, causing you to shove him back with an embarrassed huff.

“Get off,” you pouted.

“We should go, it’s fucking freezing,” he said, lifting you up and wrapping his arm around you with an easy smile on his face.

“D-Did you still wanna get drinks?” You asked, looking at him with a soft shimmer in your eyes.

Jimin sighed and looked up at the dark sky. “I have an idea,” he said, turning to gaze at you once more. “Let’s grab some cheap vodka and some mixers, drinks at home,” he offered.

You bit your lip. “If that’s what you wanna do,” you said. “I’m down for that too.”

He nodded, taking your hand as you headed out into the night, heart hammering in your chest as you felt a sensation bubbling in the pit of your stomach…

—

Jimin had made good on his promise, it was almost midnight and you two were properly tipsy.

Not blackout hammered, but certainly looser and perhaps a bit more… unhinged.

“God damn it, I’m gonna fucking destroy you!” Jimin growled.

You smirked with a twinkle in your eye.

“You’d love to, wouldn’t you, huh? But, unfortunately,” you pressed a button on your controller.

Jimin’s character blew up and he snarled in frustration as he kicked his head back. “You’re such a shit! Come on, don’t be a brat,” he said, trying to mess you up so you’d fail as well.

“Jimin!” You shouted, turning on the sheepish man as your character fell to their death, ending the match for the pair of you. “I was gonna win again! How could you?”

He scoffed. “How could I? Y/N, you’ve won almost every game against me!”

You tried not to smirk at his distressed tone, but you couldn’t help the maniacal laughter that took over you as you looked at his pouting face. “Ah, Minie, I’m sorry, I-I don’t mean to laugh,” you chuckled out, not sounding even the slightest bit sorry.

“Better quit teasing me, baby, I’m not a gracious loser,” he warned, raising a brow.

The alcohol made you mouthy, unfortunately.

“Oh? Don’t like to lose huh? For someone who doesn’t like to lose, you do an awful lot of it, don’t you?” you smirked, eyes sparkling with mirth and bratty attitude.

Jimin didn’t like this however, because the next thing you know, you’re on the ground with him between your legs as he pinned you on the floor. His hands were around your wrists as your thighs wrapped around his hips loosely. His crotch was right up against your core and it had your stomach in a fit of butterflies. 

“You... are such a little fucking brat,” he grit out. “You keep acting up and I’m gonna smack your ass fucking raw,” he warned. 

A normal person would’ve stuttered and flushed like mad at his angry tone and dark expression.

You may have had a slightly different reaction...

“Minie!” you whined loudly, voice sweet and needy. Jimin’s brows shot up as you clamped a surprised hand over your mouth in shock.

The shock leaked off his features as they turned even darker than before. “Yeah? What is it baby? Something the matter?” he smirked, pushing his hips closer to yours with a menacing look.

“N-No...” you whispered, voice surprisingly soft and docile.

Jimin raised a brow and scoffed at you. “For someone who was talking a lot of shit just a few minutes ago you sure turned into a bitch really quick for some dick, huh?” he laughed. The heat of his statement worked its way onto your face. So much so it made you turn your head so you didn’t have to look at him.

“Hey,” his tone was gentler, fingers intertwining with yours as he kissed your cheek. “Too much? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...”

You quickly snapped your head back towards his so you could connect your lips. He sighed as he gently kissed you back. “Need you to tell me if it’s too much baby,” he said, kissing your jaw and right under your ear. You hiccuped in pleasure, trying desperately not to ruin your panties.

“N-Nothing so far has made me uncomfortable... I-I like dirty talk, a lot,” you promised. “Are you okay? I-I don’t wanna rush you either.”

Jimin’s face softened, kissing you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he sat the two of you up. “Ah, I hate to sound like a fucking animal, but I’ve had way too many wet dreams about you to stop now,” he panted. “If you’re down I’d like to properly appreciate your ass now,” he smirked. 

Your eyes twinkled in the soft light of the living room as you nodded. “Yes... Yes I want that,” you said. “Take me to bed, Minie...”

He did not have to be told twice. Quickly, Jimin hauled you in the air as he carried you both to his room. You were going to protest and say you had a nicer bed when he shushed you. “Shh, I’ll fuck you here and then we’ll sleep in yours,” he said, dropping you on the sheets of his bed moments later. “Now spread your legs.”

You were eager to comply, separating your thighs as he situated himself in between them once again. “M-Minie~”

He shushed you again by bringing your mouths together, sucking on your bottom lip as he ground his hardening cock against your pussy. Your panties were already soaked and your flimsy pajama shorts weren’t going to stop your arousal. Especially if Jimin kept grinding against you like that.

It was like he was fucking you with your clothes on. He rolled his hips against your core desperately, causing his thickening member to nudge your clit just so. You whined against his lips, clutching his shirt due to the pleasure coursing through you.

“Such a pretty baby, you sound so fucking pathetic, whining for my cock like a bitch in heat. You a little puppy slut? Just starting her rut? Huh?” his voice was thick with arousal as he ground against you. “Don’t deserve my cock. Not after being such a little bitch,” he snapped, grabbing your jaw in his hand. You were panting at the aggressive nature he took on, eyes turning watery as you begged for more. 

“B-But Minie! I-I came t-to your showcase! I-I was nice,” you pleaded. “I-I’m sorry for being mean, I’ll be good,” you promised. 

A dark chuckle left his lips as he slammed his pelvis into yours entirely too hard to be nice, making you yelp. But the sharp sting left you writhing underneath him. “Desperate,” he teased. “No one’s been fucking you right, huh? Last good dick was so long ago you’re already soaking my fucking pants,” he rolled his eyes, as if this was predictable. “Should’ve known you’d be a little cockslut once I got my hands on you...”

“I’ll be a slut for you, Minie... If that’s what you want,” you gasped when he rolled against your clit firmly, making sparks flush through your body. Your hips twitched, naturally seeking out your pleasure. But Jimin had different plans. 

He pulled you up and kissed you, tangling his fingers in your hair before tugging your head back to kiss your neck and throat. “Don’t want to rush you my baby,” he breathed, trailing his lips across your jaw slowly. “If you need to stop just tell me,” he said, sealing those words with a kiss as he finally slipped his hand inside your shorts. 

“M-Minie!” you cried, head falling back against his pillows. “C-Careful, m’sensitive baby,” you bit your lip.

“Aw, poor baby,” he said, voice mocking and harsh. It sent chills of pleasure over your skin. “You’re sensitive from humping my fucking crotch like a little bitch,” he growled. “If you’re sensitive, then it’s your own damn fault for being such a cock hungry whore,” he snarled, pressing a savage kiss against your mouth. 

You weren’t even sure you could call it a kiss. He panted harshly against your mouth, his tongue licking inside soon after. 

With a soft but sweet whine you wrapped your arms around his neck again, playing with the hair at the base of his head. You tangled your fingers in it and gently scratched his scalp in a way that made him purr. 

“Minie,” you pouted. “Please touch me...” you flushed, voice shaky as you tried not to shy away. It was harder than expected, to be totally submissive and to feel okay. Usually you switched, men had taken advantage of you before. Never anything terribly traumatizing, but there had been some situations where things went too far and a safeword had to be used. 

And after that you went back to more vanilla sex, but it was all so fucking boring. These college boys you’d been fucking hadn’t been on the same level, not even the same fucking planet as Jimin. You felt so hot, so turned on, but you didn’t feel like you couldn’t be honest either. 

It was a little intimidating to have something so good. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you lost him now...

And he hadn’t even gotten his dick out yet.

Jesus.

“Baby? Y/N, hey, look at me for a second,” Jimin’s voice was still husky, but more direct. “There you are,” he said, a small smile on his face. 

You blinked slowly before you mirrored his action. “Sorry, just... Got caught up for a second, I’m here. I’m okay, promise,” you said, pecking his lips sweetly.

“I trust you,” he said, pushing your hair away from your face before he gently cupped your core through your panties. “You’re soaking these panties, pretty... I’d hate for you to have to throw them out,” he said with a smug look on his face. “Mind if I take them off?”

With a quick lift of your hips, Jimin was tugging the wet fabric of your shorts and panties down your thighs and off your feet shortly after. His eyes gleamed in the dim light of his room. You sat up and shed your shirt before laying back in his sheets. You’d both changed shortly after getting home, pajamas being much more favorable than the clothes you’d both worn out that evening. Although Jimin had kept his makeup from the showcase on.

You certainly weren’t going to remind him now...

“Shit... Y/N, you’re pussy is so fucking pretty,” he moaned, kissing your shin and knee with his plush and slightly swollen lips. “Bet you’re gonna fucking cream my cock, you ever squirted baby? Think I could get you there?” he asked, running his thumb through your slick and puffy lips. 

“Jimin,” you gasped, arching your back gently, reaching up to grip your chest. You gently rubbed your nipples, working them to sensitive peaks as you tugged and stimulated them as Jimin played between your legs.

He leaned forwards and kissed your sternum, smiling against your skin as he felt your hands brush from his head down to his upper back and shoulders. He shivered slightly when you ran your nails across his sensitive flesh. 

“I’m so hard, baby,” he whined, licking his lips as he looked at your center. “But you look so good, I need to taste you. Maybe if you’re good I’ll lick my cum out of you later,” he winked. You felt your pussy clench around nothing at those words, begging for his teasing thumb to sink inside. Just a little. 

You’d never felt so desperate.

Jimin had mastered the art of teasing it appeared. Because you’d never felt so needy. Perhaps it was the fact that you and Jimin had incredible sexual chemistry. But, there was something else deeper than that. You’d had good sex, you know what it’s like to be pleasured well. 

But this was something else entirely.

It felt like he knew you, like he knew exactly where he wanted to touch you and it was exactly where you needed him. Every part of you was made for him to touch, to worship...

To ruin.

“P-Please, I need something, Minie... Hurts,” you breathed, hips seeking his touch out.

He didn’t make you ask anymore, sinking his thumb inside your clenching hole with a hiss. “Oh fuuucckk,” he moaned, watching your sticky pussy swallow his digit had his cock pulsing aggressively in his pants. “Snug little cunt, huh? Looks so tasty baby, gonna be good for me while I eat this pussy?”

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice to hide the desperation you felt. 

“Yeah, you’ll be good for me... If you aren’t, I’ll edge you until you cry,” he smirked, eyes dark and dangerous.

“‘M good Minie, I’ll be good,” you whispered, worrying your bottom lip as you felt him adjust. Soon he was kissing your thighs, thumb still rocking in your pussy slowly. “Please, wanna feel your hot mouth on my pussy, baby.”

Jimin growled against your skin before he pushed his thumb in deeper before giving your pussy a fat lick. “Fuck, fucking hell baby,” his voice was deep, vibrating your core as he absolutely refused to separate from your heat for a second. 

You tasted so fucking good...

Now, Jimin was entirely aware that pussy didn’t taste like candy or fucking sugar. But you were so fucking wet. It was dripping down his chin, coating his tongue in your flavor, thick and heady in his mouth and throat. 

“M-Mm! Baby!” you cried, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists. “Feels so good! So fucking good!”

How did you taste so good? Jimin couldn’t get over that fact. Jimin hadn’t ever said no to going down on a woman if it was consensual. His ex said his head game was insane. He didn’t like to boast, but he knew he was good with his mouth. But this much slick cream was insane to him.

He couldn’t get enough.

“Such a sweet little cut, so wet for me,” he panted against your skin, licking his lips before digging back in.

Jimin removed his thumb, making you whine in frustration. Your core was still achingly empty, even with his digit fucking you open. He licked all your arousal off his thumb before sucking your clit into his mouth and pushing two fingers into your weeping hole.

“Minie!” you sobbed, walls sucking him in as deep as you could take him, clit on fire as he tortured it with his tongue.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he moaned. “So soft, kinda forgot how sweet and soft pussy is... But something tells me, yours is special,” he winked which made you scoff. “Already the best pussy I’ve ever had...”

You bit your lip and moaned as Jimin’s fingers worked inside of you. He ground his middle finger against that rough spot while sucking on your clit and you felt a hot pulse of pure bliss shoot down your spine.

“Jimin!” you shrieked, causing him to jolt in surprise. 

“Baby? Too much? I’m sorry-”

“Please don’t stop!”

He froze for a moment before he chuckled darkly. “You want me to make you squirt pretty? I can almost bet I’ll make you squirt for me,” he said, licking your clit like a kitten, watching in amusement as your hips twitched against his ministrations.

“I’ll take whatever you give me Minie, m’ your good girl,” you said, eyes big and watery, shining in the light of the room. Jimin felt his heart twinge in his chest.

He was nervous to do this with you. He was nervous to take this step.

He didn’t want to fuck it up.

Firstly, he’d hate to lose you. Secondly, it would be really hard to either find a new roommate or apartment right now. Middle of the semester was such a shit time honestly. 

But he knew, he knew what he wanted.

You were worth the risk, you were worth the chance.

He was willing if you were.

“You are, aren’t you?” he praised, kissing your jaw as he fucked you with his fingers. “Gonna cum for me like a good girl? Want to make you cum so hard baby, has anyone ever made you squirt before?”

With fluttering eyes you shook your head, no. You’d made yourself squirt, almost. It was a little different than you imagined it was supposed to be. 

“Want me to help you then? Want your Minie to get you there?” 

Him calling himself ‘your’ Minie did things to you that had not only pussy clenching but your heart as well.

“Please Minie,” you mewled, digging your nails into your thighs desperately.

“Okay pretty, I’ll make you cum, you’re gonna soak this bed when I’m done eating your cunt,” he growled, leaning down once more to suck your clit into his mouth as his fingers sunk in deeper.

Fuck, he’d added a third one.

But his middle digit kept pulsing and rubbing in the same time as his tongue and mouth on your clit. You felt each push and suck in your stomach. You could feel yourself slipping, your pussy was getting wetter and wetter, and Jimin was elated.

“Yes, that’s it,” he said, kissing your cunt before going right back to sucking.

A hot sensation pooled in your lower stomach, causing you to clench tightly. Your breaths were coming in shorter now, Jimin seemed to notice.

“Feel it?”

You nodded quickly. “B-Baby, feels... a lot... ‘s a lot!” you whimpered, clutching the sheets before you carved your thighs up with the aggressive pleasure coursing through you.

“It’s okay baby, it’s gonna feel so good. Breathe, keep breathing my baby,” he cooed softly, capturing your clit between his plush lips and amping up the speed of his hand and fingers. 

You didn’t have time to breathe, because you were cumming shortly after.

Jimin watched in awe as you screamed in pleasure before you came hard all over him and his bed. “Good girl, fuck that’s so fucking sexy, give it to me...”

You collapsed against the sheets, heart hammering in your chest and ears ringing as you felt your toes and fingertips tingling. Jimin cleaned his fingers, shushing you as he took off his shirt to clean around your thighs just a bit to get most of you wiped up.

“Y/N? Can you hear me baby?” he asked, trying to be gentle. His cock was leaking in his sweatpants at this point, he’d been grinding it against the mattress as he ate you out. But cumming that hard, and especially after the spout of assholes you’d encountered in the bedroom lately, that orgasm was no doubt intense. 

You swallowed hard, leveling out your breathing to a softer panting as Jimin leaned forward, kissing your lips and cheek softly. “Easy, do you need some water? You did so good, pretty,” he said, pressing tender kisses and bites into your skin.

“I-If you can make me cum that hard, I have to marry you. You’re mine, I won’t let anyone else have you,” you said, holding his face as you kissed his jaw and lips slowly.

Jimin laughed softly, kissing you back before he moved away. You pouted, but only for a moment as you saw Jimin pushing his pants off. 

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you saw his cock, bright red and absolutely drenched in precum. You wanted to move forward, take his dick in your mouth and pleasure him just as good as he did you, but he was already moving towards you again.

With eager hands you found yourself kissing him once more, palming his cock and caressing his neck all the while.

“F-Fuck, not too much. I’ll fucking blow my load, can I fuck you? Condoms or no condoms I don’t care, but fuck I need to be inside you,” he said, pushing you on your back as he palmed one of your breasts.

“I’m on the pill, and I haven’t let anyone go raw in over a year, I-I’m okay with it if you are-”

“Yes,” he hissed, lining himself up with your center. His eyes locked with yours for a moment. You gave him a nod before he finally pushed himself in.

“Minie! Jimin! F-Fuck,” you cried, throwing your head back into the pillows as Jimin sank deep inside you. He wasn’t incredibly huge, he was certainly above average however. Bigger than the most recent stint of idiots you’d let fuck you.

And you were so fucking happy he went in raw. You loved raw sex, creampies were certainly a big kink for you. Not only that, but you could feel every delicious inch of him filling your desperate pussy. You could feel how hot he was, how snug he fit inside you.

“Y/N, oh fuck,” he huffed, resting his head on your shoulder. “F-Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Wet little pussy sucking me in, Jesus christ baby,” he laughed, almost in disbelief. “If you’ve got a pussy like this, squeezing me like this? Then I think I agree baby, I’m going to have to marry you... I’m not letting anyone else fuck you, especially not some stupid fucking assholes who won’t appreciate such a perfect cunt... You said some fucking prick needed lube? Must not have liked him as much as you like my fat cock, baby... You’re dripping.”

“Don’t want anyone else Minie!” you moaned. “Fuck me, please baby... Please fuck my pussy, want you so much.”

Jimin didn’t waste any more time, he grabbed your thighs and pulled your hips up, making you curl in on yourself so he had more leverage. “Take my cock baby, sweet pussy,” he moaned, thrusting into you firmly.

You grabbed his shoulders, moaning loudly as he started fucking into you. The sound of his hips slapping into yours was echoing through the room, Jimin leaned down to suck tender marks into your breasts. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the bed as he forced you to take his cock.

“Minie! Cock so big baby, u-uh! Please, please-ahh! F-Fuck, feels so good,” you mewled.

Hot pleasure curled through your body, making involuntary grunts and moans fall from your lips without you even realizing it. Although, Jimin’s cock had you so braindead honestly you wouldn’t be able to say anything coherent anyways. True bliss.

Jimin wasn’t exactly going to be writing any papers at this moment either, his mind had two thoughts. Make you cum again, and make him cum. And if he was lucky, his dick would go again. He can’t remember the last time he was so riled up.

He’s not surprised his little shit of a roommate is the one who managed to work him to the edge of insanity. You’re so beautiful, he’d been absolutely fucked from the moment you walked into his life. How was he supposed to resist you?

Every part of your body drew him in. Supple thighs, beautiful eyes that sparkled, sweet lips that he’d found could spit the nastiest things (although he is the furthest from complaining), and a tender heart that was captured by the simplest actions, but usually those spoke the loudest.

You weren’t good with words, but you really did try. You wanted to understand, you wanted to be connected.

“Fuck,” Jimin growled, thrusting inside you steadily, you watched with morbid curiosity as his entire frame slammed into yours. You watched where your pussy struggled to swallow every inch of him, but you could feel all the slick leaking from not only you, but Jimin as well. Your arousal and his precum created a very easy glide that had your stomach roiling with desire. Your clit throbbed in want, but you feared if you let go of the sheets or him for even a second you’d be fucked right off the bed.

“Minie! S-So close, please baby, can I cum? Wanna cream on your dick,” you whined, grabbing at his forearms with your pretty hands that had Jimin going utterly feral.

“I’ll make you cum so fucking hard baby,” he said, adjusting so one of your legs was stretched up and over his shoulder as he started to pound into you even harder.

You couldn’t breathe, the look on Jimin’s face was utter sin. His eyes were dark, the makeup from his showcase smudged a little from the sweat, but overall he still looked incredible. His flushed face and neck, even the top of his chest was slightly twinged. He was panting, sweat coated the tips of his hair as he kept his brutal pace with ease.

“Touch my clit, please! Jimin, I’m so close,” you cried, feeling every inch of your body start to tingle. 

He didn’t waste any time as he brought his thumb to your clit while he kissed your ankle. “Cum, Y/N, soak my cock,” he encouraged, eyes fucked out and dazed. 

Your body couldn’t take anymore, your walls clamped down on his dick and you screamed in bliss. You couldn’t tell what happened for a few moments until you felt Jimin shake your shoulder for a second. “Baby, please, where do you want it?” he asked, drawing you out of your stupor long enough. 

It was a no brainer for you.

“Inside,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in as he shivered.

“Gonna take my load baby? Want it inside?” he asked, panting harshly against your lips. 

“Yeah, give it to me... Wanna feel it dripping out of me,” you whined, the sensitivity of his brutal thrusts settling it.

Jimin growled, kissing you deeply before his hips stuttered. You soothed your hands down his back as he rutted into you a few more times, ensuring you milked him for every drop he had. 

His kisses turned softer, trailing them along your cheek and jaw as he tried to calm himself down. His heart was hammering inside his chest as he watched you sleepily try to keep up with his affections.

“Y/N, you okay? Let me get a towel and then we can head to your room,” he offered, pulling back gently as you both winced at the slight ache and tender drag. “Keep your hips up for a second,” he stated as he jogged to the bathroom. 

You huffed in effort as you waited. Jimin reappeared shortly after, walking over with a warm cloth that he used to clean you up as best he could. “Okay, think you can stand?” he asked, tossing the cloth and towels in the basket.

“Yeah, what’s standing?” Jimin laughed and so did you while reaching for him as he helped you get up on your feet. A slight head rush flew through you at the change in orientation. You wrapped your arms around Jimin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He obliged you, eagerly kissing you as well.

“You need to use the restroom,” he said, urging you towards it. “Let me get these sheets in the basket at least and then we can continue this,” he smiled, pecking your cheek before patting your bare ass and sending you into the bathroom.

You rolled your eyes but did clean up a bit more and used the toilet before washing your hands and face, patting yourself dry with a nice fluffy towel. You tried not to let the nervous sensation in your stomach overwhelm you. Jimin hadn’t really specified what this meant. But to be fair, neither did you. It’s not like you both were rushing anything either.

Fuck...

“Are you giving yourself a nosebleed in there? Come on, lets get some sleep,” Jimin said through the door. You couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto your face as you opened the door and found Jimin standing there. He worked quickly, pulling you out and shutting the light off before dragging you through his room.

He’d worked fast to strip his bed, eager to get you back into his arms. 

“Are you okay with sleeping together?” Jimin asked, standing outside your door with you. You nodded, opening your room and bringing him inside. You tossed the towel into your basket, reaching and grabbing another pair of panties before throwing a huge t-shirt over it all. Jimin was sat on your bed and you couldn’t help but like the view. 

He seemed to feel your gaze on him because moments later his eyes were locked with yours. “Beds cold, come here,” he said, pouting softly.

How could you resist such a sweet request from him?

Without even a moment of hesitation you moved towards your bed and let him wrap you up in his arms under the blankets happily. You two curled together, chests touching as Jimin rubbed your scalp softly. 

The silence wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was clear you two both wanted to say something. 

“Minie,” you broke the tension, voice soft and sweet in the night. 

“Yeah, Y/N?” he asked, looking you in the eyes. 

“We didn’t... We didn’t really say what this was, and um. I don’t want to ruin this, our friendship, but I also don’t want to miss out on something good just because I didn’t want to rock the boat,” you said bluntly.

Jimin snorted before nodding. “I see, alright. Well, I was under the impression you were interested in a relationship. That’s generally what dates are for, and someone who was looking to hit it and quit it probably wouldn’t have bought me flowers and cried during my showcase,” he chuckled. “I value our friendship as well, you’re a wonderful woman. But I also don’t want to miss something good, I don’t want to miss out on you.” 

His words made your chest stutter with anxiety, but also pure elation. 

“Then, we’re doing this? Uh, relationship? Together… thing?” You butchered that, but Jimin smiled all the same.

“I’m yours if you’re mine,” he said, kissing your forehead.

You were about to kiss him softly when you burst into laughter. Tears fell down your face as you struggled to keep your wheezing down.

Jimin watched in blatant confusion.

“Babe? Uh, what’s so funny?”

“And they were roommates!"

*Please don't ask about updates, thank you*

[overtaken-stream]

Where On3 Will St4nd

King The Wildfire x F!Lunarian!Reader

100+ Followers Special!! I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE SUPPORT!! <3 (This was posted so late oml) This bad boy has been cooking in my drafts for close to a year and a half it feels like, it is very much burnt to a crisp. Thank you anon who asked me about King meeting another of his race! This would not be here without you <3

Also, sorry for the grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language.

word count: 8.9k

Warnings: incorrect cultural description(?)/practices(?), Self-harm(Burns), Imprisonment, Timeline is a mess don't come at me.

( The Land of a Demon )

Onigashima is an intimidating island; the smell of ash penetrates every corner of the scene where a battlefield will unfold. There are no flowers to add color to the brown mud and grey rocks, no snowflakes to grace the island or land on the red mist. The only thriving presence is the skull, where the fire emanates—the lair of a wrongdoer rotting and resting in this sinful place.

The skull, or rather, the rock resembling a creature much like the one on Thriller Bark—Oars, to be exact—was its name. But even he, the Junior, paled in comparison to the Skull Dome. No human could have sculpted it; giants, maybe, but even then, there are doubts.

It was formidable for you to step into the den of a beast earlier than expected, where you would be alone and defenseless. The dreadful aura the place is emitting is fitting for an Emperor of the sea. The deeper you went, the lighter you felt, the fearsome and overwhelming feeling was replaced by the intimidating, and may I say, strict walls you can find in the Wano Kuni, or the Flower Capital to be more exact, the only thing Onigashima lacks is the malnourishment that comes with Shoguns' rule, the exhausted faces of workers, the food prices and the dirtied outskirts. The separation of morals between the Wano Kuni and Onigashima shows clearly in the environment, it's like stepping into a completely different world, detached by the innocent victims who got birthed in this tangle of knotted rope, a mess, a sculptor done masterfully by manipulators of different social hierarchies. It's an art piece that took lives. A work in progress.

Their happiness depends on us. The ones who took it in the first place. The pirates.

We are the only people who bleed flames and light up the shadowed space that is Wano.

Soon.

...Soon.

After the worrying incident of the crew splitting apart yet again to get Sanji back and despite your worries for the polite cook- you were among the majority who continued traveling toward Wano. The plan was for you to become a Geisha working alongside Robin to get selected by the Shogun, but at last, the paths split and here you were in the den of beasts.

There was little chance of concealing your true identity in Wano; the absence of hair dyes posed a challenge. However, with strategic tying, the Obi belt effectively concealed the main factors that could give you away. The uncomfortable sensation is so familiar that you've learned to master not showing the everlasting pain on your face. The lightened makeup applied by the elderly further masks your skin, with red lips complementing your Obi and velvety gloves. The black hue of your flower kimono, snug tightly to your legs, hinders your pace, restraining you from keeping up with other women who, despite being more nervous, are less experienced in the field of treachery. Tonight, it will be challenging to differentiate professionals from novices, and you vow to take advantage.

The occasionally beautiful scenery inside the castle fails to comfort you amidst the fast-beating hearts; it is unsettling. The empty halls, guided by one of Kaido's puppets, make everyone dizzy with the maze-like walls—plain, hard to remember its turns.

In what way did the he turn last time?

The candles dwindle in plain sight as the floor creaks, accommodating the heavy steps of someone on the other side of the hallway. The sound becomes more vivid as it picks up pace, running past your group from the other side of the wall, capturing the attention of a soldier who turns and continues guiding with an anxious face.

It's only when the others, approximately ten pairs of feet, follow suit that you realize the commotion beside the separation. Judging by the soldier's expression, it seems to be a normal occurrence. However, you do not halt your steps; you continue to motionlessly follow, much like a sheep. It turns out the other women have the same idea.

There's an Oni free of its cage.

Debris falls from the shaking ceiling onto your shoulders. You wipe the black fabric clean, huffing as you quicken your pace, gently pushing the ladies to make way. The man, with spiky brown hair, takes another turn to the right this time.

``Sir, how far are you going to make us walk? Do you want us to be gasping for breath when we entertain our customers?`` You ask in a monotone voice, the impatience underlines your words, while your facial expression is the same as the one you entered with.

The soldier angles his neck to look up at you before his expression turns sour.

Lazy sons of bitches are too tired to answer a simple question. Tsk.

Your eye twitches as you await his answer. Not minding the spooked expressions of the ladies.

``Just above this floor.``

You only take your eyes off of him when the dark wood stairs come into view. It's been twenty years since the Beast Pirates invaded Wano Kuni and the history of Onigashima, they left a mark that will be impossible to remove. The residue of red that has maintained its place on the stairs is proof of that, who knows how many more illicit and barbaric things this place... This Country has witnessed. Who knows how many more will be lost.

Yet, people ignore it for their safety, geisha act no differently, even if they feel the warmth of a body no longer on the bottom of their okobo, they don't look down. For their security. Though you seem to be unable to look up, whoever the unfortunate victim was, you wish them a peaceful afterlife.

You hold in what anger you have, clenching your fists onto the sides of your kimono. There will come a time for you to spill it.

Soon.

...Soon.

A dreadful feeling emanates within the group, snapping you out of your daydreams. You didn't mean to get lost in your head, but the moment you let the fabric loose, the double door opens, and the women hurry their way to spots alongside every wall, unhappiness settling in their guts. They put their knees onto the soft purple cushions. Your eyes travel over the shamisen lying beside the cushion you were supposed to rest on. The three-stringed instrument you pick up seems to be brand new—unused and unprepared. However, even as you fix the strings, you feel relieved. Kyo Mai is a slow dance with complicated steps, and your confined wings always disturb your enactment. You were supposed to play the instrument and stay hidden among the performers, even with your snow-white hair and height.

The door opens right after everybody picks up their fans, you hid away in the background with the shamisen now in the proper hold.

(Away from the intimidating aura the girls seem to be spooked of. They don't break under the pressure. They repeat what was practiced.)

Here they come.

The All-Stars.

( Eyes That Follow )

From the three goliaths that were sitting and having an exchange, you've decided that Queen was the worst out of all of them. His immense and twisted pride shows even during his interactions with the women currently swarming his sides, the sadism that chokes the air out of every woman doesn't reach the beasts.

He calls it... “Flirting” it's not obvious to the naked eye but the girls feel uncomfortable, even when they smile, you can tell. It's for survival they smile. It's for survival they nod their heads as Queen throws compliments at a woman who isn't here. Komurasaki.

You feel sorry for the girl, to have Queen captivated was horrifying. You hold hope that Komurasaki will never meet him in person, even as your eyes continue to wander over Queen, for he, even if the filthiest of the All-Stars, was the most social one. A star scientist. It's when Queen starts practicing his singing talent that one of them calls.

``Oi.``

You straighten up. From on top Jack, The Drought looks down at you.

``Could you start the music already?`` His unreacting eyes only leave your face when you answer with an apology. It was obvious he was trying to silence Queen.

As you pull the shamisen closer to your body, you can hear the blond's offended complaints soon be replaced by the excitement when he realizes the Geishas' standings.

``Well, aren't you a beauty with white hair of yours, musician? Though no one will beat my Komurasaki! That bastard Shogun! Such a shame.``

You aren't sure what he pulls out of his pocket—a paper of some kind? A picture. You thought maybe some information would leak out of their mouths, yet the only conversations you hear are Queen's complaints and praises towards the women. Lost in your own mind, studies continue to mix. Is Kaido awarding his men before the festival? It seems unlikely, but unfortunately, that might be the case.

As you begin the melody of "Crane Wedding," there isn't another noise except Queen's malicious giggles interrupting you. That is until the sounds of squeaking leather picks up in the trapped room. You fix your eyes on the instrument while somebody else's eyes drill into your face, past your cosmetics and the flawless kimono. They don't move from your face; in fact, you might even think they are staring past your soul. You can feel their eyes travel to your neck, covered by the geisha's makeup. They stare, and you don't dare to look up meet meet them.

The pleasant music of yours doesn't halt as a geisha brings in the food, throwing a quick and nervous glance your way, but soon she too turns towards one of the three men who called her, leaving you alone with that crushing stare. The time stretches along with the performance; the short melody now feels like a loop of endless tactics put together. Lovely notes turn into a disgusting mess of mud inside your mind, plugging your ears and forcing you to hear the way your heart speeds up, noticing his eyes cling onto the darker color not peeking from under the makeup. You're nervous, as are the dancing geisha, whose only audience is Queen at this point. It's soon when the second, heavy pair of eyes turn towards you, but this one is much quicker to leave you be.

That must have been Jack.

King. He's the one that continues to stare.

The corner of your lips twitches after the realization. You try to keep away from falling and dissecting below his gaze. It lasts even after the dance was finished, his red eyes hold you hostage for the most part, even when you get up and do what your teacher, a sweet old lady has taught you.

It's fear, not of him, but rather afraid of him finding out what no outsider should know.

It's doubt, he is doubting you. Suspecting you, yet he asks no question. He only stares you down like a predator when you finally meet his crimson eyes. Your (E/C) eyes reflect his fully leathered top half.

You aren't afraid of him, no you can't be, you've faced many opponents in your 25 years of living, and you've gone through the suffering even the strongest men cannot withstand.

You are a Straw hat.

You are part of a future Pirate Kings crew. You cannot be intimidated by a mere second in command. You hold your head up high.

It turns out to be the right action that causes him to back down slowly, surely you are let go from the muddy waters.

( Eye to Eye )

The sunrise began as Jack got up, and soon Queen followed him. After his callouts to King, who threw an audible shut-up in his way but did not move from the spot he was standing, Queen wasn't convinced until Jack bulldozed through the door opening and intentionally dragged Queen out of the way.

The poker face you've kept up so far slips when King calls every woman out of the room except you. You can feel Haki building its way through your veins, but you don't jump to conclusions, even as he gets closer to you with a towering height difference, his latex and bands stay unmelted when the fire on his back explodes, little sparks jumping towards you, who is by now trapped between the wall and the giant. You can feel the hot sparks on your clothing land and extinguish themselves, The conclusion is slow beneath his red eyes that are staring at you so angrily, any other emotion so hard to read beneath the mask that thoroughly covers every part of his body, the folded black wings are no exception.

Besides blocking your means of escape, he has yet to do anything physically, the temperature in the room rises with how fast the heat is produced on his back. The fire is so familiar you might even get lost in it, in the old times, when fewer shit stains were roaming the planet. It makes you sweat underneath all the tight clothes you're wearing, especially on your back where the wings have started to ruffle, trying to let some air into its layers to no avail.

You wish you had talent in observation haki to determine what he was going to do next.

You flinch when his right arm raises from where it slept beside his thighs, it slowly gets closer to your frozen form, even if you try to lean away, there is no point, you realize. You are tall, but as both of you stand beside each other, He towers over you, but his intention isn't to intimidate you. The instinct is your strong suit and your weakest point.

You can feel the leather wipe away at your excessive makeup, from your cheek to your platysma his hand travels with a heavy heart on its sleeve.

If King was anyone other than King, you would have slapped it away.

If only he didn't share traits you are so familiar with.

If only you didn't share traits he is so familiar with.

You can feel the cosmetics dragging and staining his gloves, wiping away half of your disguise easily, thanks to the heat, he keeps a note of your half-disguised face with calculating... Wide eyes. The other half of your face, one that stayed untouched, must be melting.

It's the shaky puffs of air released from his mask that gives him away, the sudden rise in temperature in an already hot room, it must almost be 40°C, yet he does not budge.

Is he relieved...? Enthusiastic much...?

Not a word is said when he takes his arm away, now covered in white. You can see the way the pupils shake, you are sure he can see yours too, the furrowed brows and slightly parted lips of yours must be a giveaway.

The wings.

The eternal inferno.

A laugh escapes in the room-turned-oven, a nervous laugh of a feminine voice. You must be in shock to have fallen so low. Not even trying are you?

In a world that ought to hunt your kind down, to exterminate the past, the world that succeeded in destroying your kind, you don't feel alone. Or... You will no longer.

In the fervor, the mask comes off, leaving his sweat-covered face uncovered for you to see.

(``What tells that you are the only survivor?`` King used to ask himself back in his younger years before he made it clear how erroneous that question was, not to mention unlikely. It a proof of his childish innocence and the improvement. If more of his kind existed, they would be in the hands of the Government, doing god knows what to them. It always made the locked space of memories in his subconscious bubble up and boil over in quiet rages and liquor-companied nights. As he looks at your somewhat clean face, he is comforted by the pitiless thought that, by some luck, someone else managed to survive the hell he also went through. He wishes he could feel at ease, but he has to be sure. He has to eliminate every doubt in his mind.)

It's not out of intimacy and lust that he asks an inappropriate question to your calmed self about stripping. The surprised look in your eyes indicates a misunderstanding of his intentions. It's only mutual trust that guides him to do what he does next. Slowly but surely, he tries to pull his mask off, letting the tight piece tug at his scalp as he sets his hair free. Only when the temperature doesn't change, even when his skin feels the air, does he let the fire return to its original size.

King The Wildfire, only looks down at your complicated emotions. Even if he does not remember the company of his people, he would truly be a fool not to recognize his own biology. Though he doesn't hold onto hope, suspicion still lingers in his red eyes. It differs from your beaming laugh full of shallow happiness, representing more of a nervous tick than anything. It's been so long since he has heard a laugh not accompanied by sadistic undertones—exploiter gifters who dared to approach him—and the liquor Kaido keeps so close during his episodes.

``... I apologize for the heat."

You smile with somewhat shocked eyes looking up at him. ``...You know, it's been a while since I've felt the excitement of my kind.`` a nervous sigh you let out lead the conversation.

`` you don't have to apologize.``

``Yes... I-`` He has forgotten many unique reflexes with time. For this instance, it doesn't pains him. Every day he forgets what distinguishes the instincts of Lunarians, for he feels less of his kind.

He counts it as a sin, a shameful part of adulting, a side effect of having to live among the likes of Kaido's men, therefore his choice.

You acknowledge his position with his back turned to the door, sitting down cross-legged as he mentions for you to do the same. You obey, his wings hovering over you and hiding your figure from the outside world.

He asks once more to turn your back to him. You try to find any joke to fit in the thick air of nervous glances, but you find none. The unconscious mutual loyalty the both of you have towards one another is born by the shared traits, of family. Of shared pain.

You take the Obi belt in your hands and off of your waist.

He has many questions he cannot get out of his mouth, but for now, he keeps quiet. He is sure you have no intention of reliving the hell on earth that is the past.

You turn your back to a beast with the pattern of a face on its back.

As you take the black fabric of your kimono off, layer by layer the cold bites at your wet body, and the salty smell lets out into the heated air, though none of you care for the odor. You drop the kimono just below your belly button and let the relief that comes with letting your wings flex and take hold.

With a fast-beating heart, King watches.

It's in a haze that he reaches out to your back, his fingers connecting to the shoulders where the wings come from, sending a shiver down your sweat-covered spine, they're smaller he thinks, more fragile than him, though there is no difference in the power of flame and healing when it comes to genders. She could make them bigger when required. They aren't fragile, they are as powerful as his, but the size difference makes it easy to tickle his instincts, long forgotten and left in the past, starving for attention. His hands run over your coracoid, trying to find the place where the feathers meet the skin, attempting to find the evidence that you are real.

He barely hears your name, caught in the view of the wings turning from black to dark blue at different angles. Though he doesn't answer, he has already shown you enough of himself, it is no longer essential. King will do just fine.

The wings are erogenous, however, even if you shiver under the sensitive touches, no lust taints the special moment between the survivors.

``(Y/N).`` you spell out your name.

By instinct, his fire becomes ablaze when his hand sneaks up your humerus, lingering touches ruffling your feathers as the fire licks at your ungroomed wing. It lights the reflective white strands of hair that escaped from Geiko Shimada. The warmth on your back is comforting to the point where you lean your wings into it. Finally, you light the eternal flame, his hand engulfed in your flames goes undamaged. It extracts and attracts the fire from his hand into the center of your spine, causing the fire to grow and spread onto your wing feathers.

Looking back you're met with what you would call, a confused face of King whose features have been caught in the yellow glow of a fire that you are able to control.

King only stares at your almost nude form with a wrinkle of thought between his eyebrows.

( Guard )

In the way King shelters you, with him beside you and you hidden in the massive wing as he walks into his chambers, you would be wrong if you said you aren't anxious. Happy but skeptical. You doubt he'll hurt you, but the mask locking away his facial structures works as an intimidation factor.

The click of a lock on his door is the only sound that disturbs the silence. Now you are in his territory, his nest.

``King?`` you turn around to look at him.

``Where did you come from.`` It's scary how quickly and unnoticeably he changes his mood. But it is probably because the enthusiasm has passed and questions have started to surface, what you thought to be a nice welcome, turns into icy bars locking you out of your getaway, just like earlier. His red eyes leave a permanent mark on your (E/C) ones.

Where did you come from. that's not a question. Questions don't make you feel as if the warmth has left your body and sent shivers down your spine. They don't drag you down the lone caves and lock up your respiratory system.

Questions aren't meant to stop time. But the way both of you aren't moving, they might as well.

You have to be careful with every word and syllable you mutter. ``I've come fro-``

``How are you alive.``

``I-``

You barely have time to finish your answers before he's asking another one, slowly he steps toward you. In the dark, his leather shines, but as you take another step back you cannot help but glance at his wings. How the moonlight seems to bend with each curve of his feathers, sinking into the crevices and lightening them up in a blue hue, similar to you, but unlike the yellow glow, King's replaced by the white. You can't help but be deprived.

There is only one sentence that is louder than the rumble coming from within him. The declaration you acknowledge within all the noise clogging your ears.

You don't feel the suffocation of this situation, nor do you hear King's voice anymore. The pressure (Despite the windows being open) comes from the claustrophobic chamber. Your wings stay close to your back. The masked face looks down on your kimono, his pupils have seemed to freeze on your form, and the angry aura that he emits is all but a facade of defense. His jaw is moving but all you can hear is a rumble that pours out deep from his chest, it's incredibly loud yet deaf to the ears of normal humans, the volume that should shake walls only quiver your brain.

The moonlight seems to cage you in, showing your footsteps to a starved predator, it's the devil's eye that replaces the moon, with red pupils that stare you down. He overshadows your form, sending warnings throughout your system-

The possessiveness only sends shivers down your spine.

(Fight or flight?)

From somewhere far away, a boy with a straw hat on his face lifts his head from where it's laying in a hammock, letting the yellow straws that are incapable of being split slowly drop onto his bandaged chest. The rough feel of the same material wraps around his forehead trapping a few black strands of hair with it.

He grumbles, the ache in his limbs starting to become much more obvious, with half-lidded eyes Luffy looks up from the opening of the hammock, letting his head peek over at the sleeping skeleton currently knocked out in the same way Luffy was supposed to be.

Something's happening.

He is sure of it, but with grogginess biting away his consciousness, he has no energy left to chase after that feeling, he turns his stiff body the other way, peeking from the left he comes face to face with the man who is a family member in all but blood, who he got back just a few hours ago.

He smiles and lies back down, from the position he is in, a window the size of his head stays open, it shows the moon and the stars twinkling their way into existence.

He wonders what others must be up to, are they watching the moon with him? Basking in its glow like a tiger?

He hates that he has to keep them waiting, but it was necessary.

Soon.

...Soon he'll be there.

Wait for him... A little more!-

( Domain )

There's something cataclysmic lurking in the walls of his chambers, causing your ears to bleed. The shackles rattle loudly next to your helix as you scratch at your ear, only making the headache worse. The heavy pull of sea stone brings down your mood. Rough exterior already leaving its mark on your hands

The mirror rests across the bed, compelling the disheveled mess of yourself to face the view. Hair strands fall on the sides of your face, greasy with gel, and your face—oh God, your face—appears smudged, as if the color is melting away. The swollen eyes that signal a newly awakened person squint to see your reflection.

The clothes are still on your body despite being passed out on the enormous bed of a murderer, a killer, and a tyrant's sidekick last night. Another ridiculous error to add to the imaginary board.

Back when King unleashed the color of the Supreme King on your cornered self you didn't dare fight back, and the shackles were here in the form of consequence to your conclusion.

The room was dark, with the only source of light being the window next to the mirror. The bars on the outside really make you feel at home. The decor set a scene suggesting no man had ever lived there. Occasional scratches marked the floor, and the specially modified bed, along with what you could only guess was a closet, were all tailored to fit his taste. Gothic undertones and a taste reminiscent of some old king's private quarters defined his preferences. You could barely discern the detailing on the bed and the strangely designed closet colored in black and gold. The dominating dark blue swallowed any light that entered the room, and there was a door to your left, likely leading to the bathroom.

The quiet morning was disturbed by the entrance of King, he stands in front of the same door you remember entering last night.

You feel quite disgusted.

``I didn't expect you to be awake.`` For a moment before you passed out, you didn't either.

The uneasy eyes meet kings' as time stills. Dragging out the undesirable connection. It only serves to tug your heart down to your gut. The happy moment, the relief and sorrow for the past nothing but a distant memory in the dark shadows of a realm not your own.

He moves closer to your bed, hands dropping what seems to be extra clothes near your feet. The man doesn't flinch as you push your legs closer to your torso and away from him. The rejection is disregarded.

``You should change.`` Carefully you nod your head.

``The bathroom is over there.``His stern voice shakes the weak walls of your mind as he turns his back on you before walking over to the entrance.

You can't help but let out a shaky breath as the door is locked and you're left alone with thoughts you can not connect no matter how hard you try, it only serves to make tremors run up your spine and into your fingertips, it's a dread invading a carefully maintained flesh you tried to protect with the hands of a child once. The deep noise your restraints produce was nothing but a ghost of your past just a couple of days ago. The weight on your wrists burns. The crackle is deafening and bone-shaking. There's no one else to hear you.

``... I need...`` Time to think, to process. Your lips shiver.

The soft white walls are nothing but an illusion. You wonder if the blue-colored room of a beast is a delusion.

The eyes and the goggles flash before you, white coats accompanied by bloodlust run over your thoughts.

Breathe.

You push your knees off of the bed, sweat traveling down your face, the cold is in no way a comfort.

The warm water is what tempts you to tread the wooden floor.

( Lone Wolf )

The water is hot against your skin as the shower head lets the boiling droplets escape freely from the metal, and steam coats the world in the lightest tints. King brings the ache you've long forgotten existed ever since the smile of a boy with the straw hat lit your life full of shadow. You wish you could be happy in the burning downpour, you deserve it, however, the inferno on your back heals the drawbacks, leaving no trace of your accomplishments which took more than a couple of burns to earn.

And you wonder what have you done to earn this.

The happiness of no longer carrying the guilt was relieving, even if it lasted for a couple of minutes.

As a little lady you would wish for a knight to come and take you away to the land of dreams, make the walls just a bit more colorful and alive in the world that burns dreams. The warm hands would he have, the soft look and the shine in his eyes, the wings on his back, and the fire that would put the sun to shame with its flames. The honey on his lips and the daisies in your hair.

The desires were harmless, they gave you hope, something a human would have.

(You can still taste the metal. You can feel the debris fall and you hear their landing making the ground of pure white shake.

Your instincts would only let you run. Would only make you avoid the black broken bricks covered in glitter. Shining green from the light and smoke.

You have no idea what exploded. You won't want to know.

That night, the girl left that place and its guards to be doomed into oblivion.

That night, a knight was left without his princess.)

The sizzling sound you feel is draining you of the energy you might need, it's a waste yet the fire on your back regenerates the lost skin again, again and again. Until you give in and stop the shower, only for the shackles to be felt around your hands. Your wings are open, fully on display.

Sensing the burns in your bones, you wonder what would have happened if you were more close to the explosion of the past, wonder if it would have been better as the water droplets fall from your wet face.

It's fairer than facing the reality that complicates the fragile string of truths once again.

Hands clenched into fists and fire growing ever hotter on your back, you wonder if you are patient enough for this, no longer does a little girl await for saving. She doesn't need to anymore. Someone else might.

It brings up a question. Can you be the light needed for one's darkest times?

You walk out of the shower with a hot back and bloody palms, the fire burns brightly above the feathers. You can only hope to fuel it forever. You keep the wings close, your captor closer.

No longer will you be truly alone.

( Purity )

If there's one thing you've learned as a child, it's that they aim for the stars, with no plan in mind and ambition in their belly, only a brave few truly make it into the sky and those who could not are left with clipped wings and broken dreams. Fragile to the point they crash onto the soil and shatter, never to be put together again.

It makes you proud that your captain never crashed down, that his wings were never clipped, you're sure that the thoughtlessness was enough to boost him to reach beyond the stars.

Before, you wondered if you were able to grab onto the lights that looked down on you during the night. Now you live to see it come true.

However, where you succeeded some failed.

And so King came crashing down with the one who put his wings back together, feather by feather, vigorous and more dreadful than ever.

He split the skies until it cried.

You refuse to allow him to recite Kaidou's doing to you. Day after day in the dark and cold chamber, your fire brightens the dark and continuously burns on your back, never once diminishing.

Nobody is allowed that pleasure.

( Prison )

Getting used to a closed environment comes naturally, as much as you hate to admit it. The dim walls are a new addition to your view, which is no longer full of white coats and a bright enclosure. The heavy shackles are much harder to familiarize with.

In a cold chamber time moves fast.

Your only interaction with the outside world is King, dark and broody, full of confidence and gentleness, he treats you as if you're fragility itself. You won't beg for a way out, you never did, humiliation over naught is an intense feeling to swallow. He's careful with his words, careful in the way he acts and reconnects with his instincts right by your side.

Day after day his visits keep a consistent schedule, with two plates of food and loneliness in his belly he strives to spend breakfast, lunch, and dinner together with you, speaking only a few words of insight. There's fire on your back yet, it does nothing to protect you from the coldness he brings. Wings stay close to your back, never truly opening in the cage. The words he says don't carry the weight of a man born for death.

One wants to lower your walls while shackling you with his, to the point that the invisible distance strains you, he is full of drought and he craves to end the famine.

Time passes and the longer you ignore the elephant in the room, the heavier its weight on your shoulders grows. You destruct yourself for a question you're not ready to hear the answer to. The pressure leads to an opening to form.

It's said in an outlandish way, heart swelling with numbness and hate tingling your fingers. Your eyes stare onward, beyond the figure meeting them.

``What are you achieving?`` Why have you caged me? Weren't you in my position once upon a time?

It stops him dead in the tracks. His eyes don't widen yet his mouth does in a way that seems robotic. The air stills, only the noise of crackling fire could be heard, heavy and rich with the enigma the man was created to be.

Why did you choose kaidou?

You want to ask.

``...Nothing. I achieve nothing.`` you ignore the strict undertone and drink the tea he brought not too long ago. It conceals the wary gulp.

``I would never have taken you for a liar.`` An intense sound is created as he slices the distance between you two with his flight, black wings ajar. a sharp feather rests near your throat. You have to be attentive. Careful to not snap the thick rope that holds his pieces together.

Blood seeps out of the cut.

``Why do you wish for death?``

``You could have murdered me the night we met.`` It's too late for your soul to perish. His reasoning for keeping you alive is clear to you.

His hand, clenching the root of a dangerously pointed feather shakes with the conflicted emotion.

Your back lights and the cut is healed.

He cannot do it, not to his kind. With a quiet grunt, King backs off to leave the chamber, his feather crumbled and abandoned on the cold wood.

Every night is spent alone on a bed made for your kind, it's just that this night feels full of plain dismay and sorrow.

The past does not visit tonight.

( The Other Side )

Your words penetrate him, though he doesn't indicate. The conversation is buried in the depths of ash, fire blooms inside of him, it rages and burns, and wherever he steps the smoke trails after him.

``Haven't you walked the same path?``

His subordinates are seated around a large table, smiles and crevices on their face.

``Do you not know darkness?``

He does. He is intimate with it.

``The hopelessness of being someones plaything?``

He can feel the heat of the past catching up to him, engulfing him in the ball of flame and strapping him on a table. He knows how it feels to be burned to oblivion, the only peace he has known. Words of madness leave his lips, everyone, including himself knows that it's empty threats, for he stands on the other side of the glass. Nothing but a guinea pig

``I know that you know it too. We walked the same path.``

He would have grabbed anyone's hand if only they reached out. It just so happened that he grabbed someone who could change the world, for the better or for worse.

He looks at the barren wasteland of Onigashima.

Was it truly a choice when your options were between freedom and its absence?

He finds that time flies swiftly when sailing. It halts when on the land.

(He has never belonged to either.)

``Why do you recite history?``

He comes to a conclusion, one of selfishness and fear. Clenched fist heats up, he does not pay attention to the rising temperature.

He craves his kind. The hopelessness is the reason he captured you.

His teeth grind against one another. He isn't on the level of humans, his superior biology won't let him stoop that low, but he finds that mentally, he and them are cut from the same cloth. Other's consequences directed him to repeat what he feared.

The thought has long since passed.

King finds it hard to care about them.

But you are entirely foreign. He can taste the smoke of Punk Hazard.

You try again and again. Lightly scratching at the metaphorical walls of him until your hands grab his heart softly, ripping the veins and staining your hands with his blood.

Your mouth only forages for the food King fetches. He wonders about you and the possibilities of it all until the voice he has gotten used to brings him back to earth, you do nothing to cushion his fall, only stalling his drop with words he feels entirely uncomfortable to understand. For the reason that he had no one to share it with.

``There's a saying about them`` You say, looking oblivious with the plate resting on your knees, mouth cooling down the food.

``A man is wolf to man.`` He gets it, King is sure he will hear your voice saying it whenever the existence of The Celestials get brought up.

``I'm glad you aren't one.``

For a moment King thinks about the blood he spilled, the curses his shoulders withstand and the beginning of it all, the things he has seen himself do, and replies.

``I could say the same.``

You can see his face, swatted with shadows even without the mask, crack, and the hidden comfort dawns on his face.

The soup in your hands is warm like the sunlight, the mask he gripped whenever entering the room rests on the bed, no longer present in his claws.

A path reveals itself to the two of you.

(There's a flower that blooms only in cold surroundings, It feeds from the ground and awaits the warmth of the sun, from the grey clouds and falling snow, the light peeks through.)

( No Regrets )

Through the window, you can smell the madness in the air, it's evident in the way King comes in while the walls around you shake with the rhythms of Queen's performance.

Your heart follows along with the melody without your consent. After all, there is not much to do with the man that you have come to accept. The walls are nothing against the booming voice of a man too loud and apathetic. But within the confines of the castle, the tense atmosphere can be felt with the help of King. Every step he takes and grunt that follows brings forth his thoughts and instincts, there's something in the air. Teetering on the edges of your mind.

The Lunarian gets closer to you, finally reaching down to your level. For minutes he stares at you, taking in your features as if you'd disappear. The leather flexes as his left-hand holds your wrist.

The red eyes don't move away. Neither do yours.

The metal spikes on his mask gleam. His eyes tell a story as his head drops down, gloved fingers sliding over the rough material of your cuffs.

Time is ticking, and you are waiting for him to succumb to temptation and finally make a move for both's sake.

King's face tilts up with a heavy sigh in tow to look at you, only for a soft smile to greet him. The cuffs are warm around your skin and cold to the room.

After all, the sun speaks of your captain's arrival.

It doesn't take many days for King to return with the key in between his fingers and no fire on his back. Your smile greets his eyes, and the knowing grin settles on your dark skin, yet the maliciousness is nowhere to be found between your lips.

Ever since his release, King has never felt at peace, perhaps he can only close the distance.

(A glimpse of sunlight was all the flower needed to rise from the frozen land.)

The heavy cuffs harshly meet the floor.

( Reunion )

The smoke is filling your lungs, the familiarity making your heart clench and bring forth a cough. The walls are stained with blood, but you don't dwell on it. Instead, you let the sounds of battle lead your wings; feeling the air make way for you is a sensation missed. The chunks of limbs and lifeless bodies are nothing but a blur in your vision. The battle has long begun, and your release from the King's chamber is far too late.

A cunning smile flashes in your mind, long black hair, and rosy cheeks decorate the memory.

``Better late than never.`` Her composed voice would say, accompanied by her icy and all-knowing stare.

Suddenly, a blue light shines through the castle wall ahead, accompanied by the noise of a gigantic object impacting from the other side. With a single flap of your wings, you pick up speed, aiming to breach the barrier. Your tough feathers shield your body as you slam into and shatter the wall's material. Unscathed, your eyes adjust to the bright figure standing on your left, emanating a stunning light that brings life to its surroundings, leaving your eyes wide. You notice a trail of smoke to your right.

You get a better look at him as the surroundings clear up.

``S-Sanji?!`` You feel quite happy to know that his issue has been resolved, judging from the way his face brightens and stands on the ground of Wano's borders. Although he always lights up near the opposite sex.

``(Y/N)-Chan?!`` His matted blond hair is a detail you only notice with the advanced eyesight your kind seems to possess. The bloody lip and his bruised forehead made him quite a sight. Although the swelling is nowhere to be seen.

You can try to make the words of delight resurface in your mouth, it's always nice to let others know of your feelings, though sometimes it sure gets hard to pull them out from the bottom of your heart.

``I'm glad to see you here!`` it lets the burden on your shoulders lighten.

Sanji responds the way you except him to.

``(Y/N)-Chwaaan!!~♡ It's been so long since I last saw you!`` No longer able to contain the love in his body, the hearts burst from his very soul. Happiness fuels his wiggly movements. ``Oh, how I missed you!~``

A large smile stretches your lips, dry as a desert. ``It's nice to have you back!-``

You could have said more, but the time has already run out.

There's water leaking from the floor above, a loud shriek is heard and your back is met with a cold, menacing look from who seems to be Sanji's opponent.

The reflexes kick in, sinking into your veins, moving you out of the threat of a mechanism falling on top of you.

You'r gaze falls on the Beast. His eyes meet yours.

There's a glimmer of familiarity in his eye.

``Out of the way!`` Sanji's yell warns before the foe swings his oversized arms once more.

The amount of force needed for your wings to fly backward is more than necessary, though the opponent's swings seem to be getting swift at every dodge, the heat produced on your back strengthens your arms and then fists, and you look for an opening to get one hit in, but for a second you can see the furious blue eyes tell you his whole story, the desperation of a man becoming more clear to recognize...

You decide that this is not your battle... The heat is diminished.

( A Change )

The short encounter with the cook was not for naught, his instructions led you directed to a stadium full of warriors ready to risk their lives for a nation that has only its history to live for.

Within enemies, there are familiar faces mixed in, who are also fighting alongside you. With Kaido fighting Luffy and Sanji taking on Queen, it's only logical to assume that the first mate would go for the top of the food chain.

There's so much to do, yet the responsibility does not intimidate your kind.

You're left to protect the survivors of a war already won.

The aftermath was nothing more than a reunion for your crew.

( Hello )

The victory comes and brings midnight with it, cheers and smiles bloom on the warriors' faces as you breathe heavily, and everyone starts to tend to their wounds, burns and deep slashes are nothing compared to what they've achieved. Pirate crews are no exception, they rest and gain the energy they'll need for the morning, until then it seems that you're the only one with stamina left.

The fire on your back grows small until it vanishes completely.

Of course, after Kiado's defeat, warriors took advantage of the weakened Beast Pirates and imprisoned those who could still stand, albeit their dreams were and still are drowning in pieces far too small to see or collect. It's evident that they hold no hope for the future.

But there's a link connecting you to one of them.

You walk near the exit door, watching as men talk among each other and discuss their next step, whatever that may be. Your semblance to that man does not get mentioned by anyone after all, they have not seen his face, but the single glance from Zoro as he stayed awake for 5 seconds is enough for you to tense up, you wonder when it will be brought up. Zoro might have fallen asleep but your heart stayed heavy next to him.

It's a dangerous idea you have, suspicious even, though they must understand, Luffy's intelligence, Nami's smile, Robins's knowledge, Usopp's understanding nature, Chopper's innocent outlook, Franky's family ties, Brook's dedication, Sanji's acceptance, and Zoro's strict attitude. If a word got out, you'd have to face your friends, have to rip a bandaid off of an old wound and hold in a cry. You just have to wonder when?

Yet you still head towards the Udon Prison, consequences last in your mind, the night sky looks down upon you, the stars begging you to go back, however the dark clouds hide them away.

The night air feels nice on your skin, even as you stand above the walls keeping in the Beasts. You can tell that no one is awake, exhaustion haunts the air as you leap down on the dry ground. Mad Scientist Queen is lying face down, covered in bandages that soil the dirt underneath him red, you're glad that his snores are loud enough to hide your wings' shuffling.

The sudden chill runs up your spine and alerts your senses, face tilting sideways, you look at a disheveled man standing over you from behind.

``Hello again, King.`` He thinks of your eyes and how beautiful they look under the moonlight. Your beauty would put Luna to shame.

Your greeting is dismissed.

``Why are you here?`` His dry mouth can barely open to question you.

``To see you of course.`` This time he keeps his mouth shut. Yet his eyes observe your appearance, the dirt, and blood that soaks your Kimono.

To see him after a loss, in a state such as this is a crime that would be punished by death. You're the only exception to the rule that didn't exist yesterday.

``Let's take a seat.`` He hasn't even noticed you move into the center of the prison, too busy trying to keep all the blood inside his body to not flat-line. The bandages are not doing much, and the fire he used in his battle has extinguished itself. All his strength was used up and you wish to see him in this state? There are no words left for him to speak, so he takes the seat next to you. His knee touches yours, the intimacy is foreign.

``This calls for a celebration, don't you think? I grabbed us some booze.``

The liquor bottle nudges him and he takes it with no complaints. The reasoning for others' celebration is obvious, dethroning an emperor is a big feat for anybody.

``After all, a God has awakened.`` King knows.

His eyelids are closed yet he can see the vague silhouette of JoyBoy, the godly form only brings bitterness to his tongue, so he tries to drown it with the smoky taste of beer, which accomplishes little.

``I was mistaken.`` with Kaidou. Regret fills him.

He isn't angry at his loss as much as he is irritated.

``You were.`` The moonlight shines down on both of you. The silence is deafening, nothing but your heartbeats are heard.

``I was saved by that man.`` His head looks up at you, and each of his limbs freezes at the implication. The misery and hopelessness engulf the surroundings. He thinks about nothing except the straw hat with a red ribbon.

``I see... So you're apart of his family?``

``I am.`` the soft look in your eyes makes him envy you.

``...Are you happy?`` He doesn't know what he will do if you respond negatively. King already imprisoned you, took your independence, and chained you to him, yet you didn't burn out, How will he treat you?

``I am, were you not?`` with Kaidou? He doesn't have a straight answer, so he only responds with silence. This was a question he thinks you know the answer to.

It isn't until your hand grabs his cheeks that he opens his eyes in surprise, also realizing he closed them.

``What is that look?`` The strict tone in your voice is nostalgic. He tries to direct the conversation elsewhere, however his mind is flooded with the feeling of your warm hand on his face.

``The marines will come.``

``They'll come for you too, you know.`` You respond with the warning, the Navy isn't known for mercy after all, they'll go after the cause too.

``I don't want that... I don't... I don't want to be alone.`` You add, sheepish of your request, is it too much to ask? You have friends who you consider as family, but King is... Different.

King also does not want to be the sole survivor of his race, he has carried that burden for long enough and now that he had a taste of his people, he wishes to not go back.

``You won't be.`` It's the only promise he'll keep, for your sake and his.

For this, he will have to leave the prison.

``Stay alive for me.`` You beg and he complies.

It all starts with your wing enveloping his form, the soft heat from your contact, and the gentle touch of your fingers over his cheek.

( See You Later )

It ends with a promise and an escape into the night.

With you in the company of your friends on the Thousand Sunny.

And with him on top of a waterfall, watching with curious and intrigued eyes as he holds the leftover newspaper, the ship descends down the mountain and leaps into the ocean next to the koi fish.

He finds your smile now meters away, he gazes with a newfound meaning to his life.

[blues824]

Since requests are closing soon today, can I have the demons and lords of Black butler reacting to a female character like Douma from Demon slayer please. Thank you

Ciel Phantomhive 

Of course he has heard of you, but Sebastian has already told him that you were a demon rather than a ‘child of the gods’. The fact that you had a cult following in a predominantly Christian time period was very mysterious to the young Phantomhive lord.

So, he asked his butler to seek you out. It wasn't too hard, considering the demon knew that your kind could only go out at night. Plus, you weren’t exactly trying to conceal your location. What neither demon nor lord expected was a pile of bloody bodies near the shrine, nor you with a bloody mouth.

You even seemed to be smiling, which Ciel found to be quite annoying. However, he was smarter than that and he could see the nothingness in your eyes. Then, you decided to fight back against his butler with your golden fan, and you landed a few deep cuts. Unfortunately, Sebastian held you down as the young Phantomhive questioned you.

This time, your face was solemn. You told Ciel that you didn’t regret killing the people in your cult, which he was not surprised at. You explained that you were apathetic and couldn’t feel any emotion at all, which made everything make a lot more sense.

Sebastian Michaelis

He was very intrigued by your type of demon. Typically, his own kindred would devour souls rather than flesh, but your kindred needs it to survive. In addition to that, you have a rather large cult following for someone who lives in a predominantly Christian Victorian era.

Once his master had given the order to search for you, he already knew where you were. You weren’t trying to hide, but it was this very fascinating game of chase. Eventually, he did find you beside a pile of bodies, presumably belonging to your followers. You had lovely eyes and a charming smile, a move that Sebastian himself utilized from time to time.

In your battle against him, he was a bit surprised by the amount of skill you had with your razor-sharp fans. Paired with your blood demon art, you definitely put up a challenge for him. Your fight ended up more like a dance, a graceful one at that.

The moment he pinned you down, you knew it was over. Your smile had disappeared as you confessed to your actions. However, Sebastian didn’t care about you eating humans. In fact, he preferred your company over the useless bags of flesh even though he had only just met you. The two of you could tell that this would lead to something much more than just the spark you felt.

Alois Trancy

He very much wanted to meet you, especially after he heard your name whispered at one of the many balls hosted by the Queen. You were rumored to be a ‘child of the gods’ because of your eyes and powers. Now, he wanted to gaze upon the rainbow-colored irises to really see if the rumors were true.

So, as a result, he ordered Claude to capture you. It was no easy feat for the butler either, considering you were well-versed in fans and your blood demon art. You put up a good fight, and Alois was a bit worried that the demon he was contracted to wouldn’t be able to complete the task assigned to him.

Once the demon butler finally pinned you down, Alois forced you to confess to what you did. You weren’t smiling as you were before, as you admitted that you had eaten many of your followers. Your face remained neutral, not portraying sadness or guilt. No, you were sadistic just like the young Trancy lord.

Alois took the chance to really look into your eyes, and he knew that he wanted them. So, he offered to hire you lest Claude gouge your eyes out as an alternative. Your smile was back on your face as you agreed to become one of his few servants. He took your hand as he led you back to the manor.

Claude Faustus

There were two types of demons in this world: your kind and his kind. Both like to cause trouble, but his kind only likes to devour souls while your kind likes to eat the entire human. When he heard the rumors, he already figured that you were a flesh-eating demon.

Alois ordered your capture, and Claude already knew where you were. He could sense the entire pile of mutilated bodies as he got closer to your location. Then, there you were, standing with your golden fans out. You already knew he was coming.

As the two of you fought, you had a smile on your face as though this were a game. This only served to make the butler more angry. This little dance of yours went on for about 3 hours before he finally pinned you down and ordered your confession to the crimes you had committed.

Your smile dropped to a more neutral glare, as you stated that you had no grief as you couldn’t feel any. Well, he whipped out a napkin and held your face still to clean off the somehow still-fresh blood off of your mouth. Both of you could tell that this wasn’t the only time you would be meeting.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Samael (Raphael x F!Tav)

Dad Raphael fic, a little bit fluffy and a little bit dark

-

Tav’s body woke her. Her breasts ached, her biological clock wired and telling her that her baby would probably be getting hungry right now, even if he hadn’t yet made a sound. She expected to hear his cries shortly, but her son wasn’t in his cradle, and her husband wasn’t in their bed. The space where he’d been sleeping was still warm. For a moment, Tav simply lay there, soaking in the peace.

Her baby was not a tiefling, but a cambion, meaning he slept in odd fits, and his behaviour was often unpredictable and so unlike a regular infant his age. He’d been born with tiny fangs – something Tav’s nipples did not appreciate – tiny wings, tiny claws, and a tiny ropey tail. Bumps on his forehead indicated where his horns would eventually grow. Tav loved him desperately. He’d also almost killed her on his way into the world, but Tav would give her life a thousand times over for him.

Eventually she dragged herself out of bed, deciding to look for her boys. The House of Hope’s halls were quiet and empty, most of the wandering debtors being banished after the birth of the little prince. His father deemed their ilk unworthy to look upon his offspring; Tav was just glad the creepy bastards were finally gone. It made hearing baby babble and the low, dulcet tones of her husband much easier, and from there Tav simply followed the music.

Raphael was in the archives, their son on his hip. He was wearing his soft red velvet dress robe – Tav’s favourite – and his feet were bare. She noticed with amusement his big wings were held further out from his shoulders than usual. They fascinated their son, and he had a habit of pulling and chewing on them. It didn’t hurt, but Raphael was sick of being covered in baby slobber.

“So you see, Samael, when drafting a contract, one must always ensure the clause has enough wiggle room for the recipient to believe they can hold the upper hand against you,” said Raphael, matter-of-fact. “That way, when the curtain falls, they fail to notice just how tight your grip has become. It’s something of an art form, I believe.”

“Abababa!” Samael gurgled, waving his pudgy red fists at his father.

“Precisely,” Raphael nodded. It appeared they were having a serious discussion. Heart warmed, Tav just stood there and watched them. Samael got stronger every day. He could already spread and flex his wings, and his control over his tail muscles constantly improved. A few months old and he was able to delicately curl it around the arms and wrists of his parents – something he was attempting to do right then, but Raphael made a game out of evasion. He’d wait until the last moment before gently snatching Samael’s tail, commanding the boy to try again. Samael giggled every time; Tav wasn’t blind to the fondness softening her husband’s gold eyes at the sound.

He was every bit the scheming, opportunistic, terrible devil she’d met so long ago, but there was so much more to him than that. He’d spent countless nights reading novels, plays, and poetry to Samael while he was still in her womb; he’d rubbed her swollen feet whenever she asked and weathered her terrible mood swings with grace; he’d shed tears, silent and stoic, when his wailing and bloody newborn was placed in his arms for the first time. Looking at him now, Archdevil Supreme Raphael, holding and teasing their son, Tav wondered not for the first time if concepts such as good and evil were too broad to truly exist.

Samael turned his head and spotted her watching them. A fanged smile lit up his face and he wriggled with excitement, reaching for her. He cooed unintelligibly, noises far too sweet to come from hellspawn, surely. The jig was up, though of course, Tav had no illusions that her husband was unaware of her presence. She approached them. Raphael offered the boy with little resistance, and Tav sighed at the feeling of completeness when he was snuggled against her chest.

“Hello, Sammy,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his soft chestnut-coloured hair.

“What woke you?” Raphael asked, his voice rich and quiet. “I thought to let you rest.”

“My body,” Tav huffed, amused. “Telling me to feed my baby.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, alright, I know,” Tav said when Samael began fussily pawing at her breast. “Give me a moment.”

She let her loose sleeping shirt slip enough to free one breast. Samael immediately latched on and began suckling, his miniature claws finding purchase. Raphael’s expression was like simmering magma: dark and primal satisfaction, possessiveness, desire, hellish adoration. He always took in particular delight when she nursed Samael. Fed their little cambion. For him, Tav knew, it was the truest acceptance of his nature – the same undeniable nature of their son. She knew she had bonded herself to Raphael far beyond the promises between husband and wife, mother of his child; he would never let her, or Samael, leave him.

Sometimes, the depth of love and obsession she saw in Raphael’s eyes scared her. He would do unspeakable things to keep them safe. To keep them. Sometimes, when Samael would deliberately bite her nipple to sample her blood as well as milk, she wondered what kind of monster she had brought into the world. If he would grow into a fiend more than a man. Sometimes, she wondered when her old friends would finally act upon their threat to destroy her and her Archdevil lover. If Raphael would make their deaths swift or slow. But never did she wonder if she’d made the wrong choice. Raphael tugged her close, shutting his wings around them. He purred when she leaned into him. Samael’s tail encircled her arm. Tav was content.

[xximpressions]

The Duchess (5)

Anthony Bridgerton x Duchess!reader

Series Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you have a chance encounter with a handsome rescuer.

Chapter Summary: Interruptions

Word Count: 1,431

Bridgerton Masterlist

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Your stride was slow and measured as you leisurely took in the sight of the numerous paintings being displayed on the nearest wall.

With the art gallery deciding to host the opening of a new exhibit on this fine Sunday afternoon, it seemed like most of the ton had arrived to take in what you deemed to be an interesting spectacle.

You knew you could not claim to be anywhere near as skilled as the artists whose works were currently being admired. But even without being an expert, you knew you could appreciate the talent it took to mix various shades of paint into a completed image.

That said, you could not help but to allow your mind to stay pleasantly occupied as you carefully considered each piece of art that entered your view with every passing step.

So much so, that you almost did not notice the enthusiastic approach of a young girl until she almost ran into you.

Catching the girl by the shoulders in order to avoid the oncoming collision, you lowered yourself to her level afterwards in order to examine if she was alright, only to be met with excited eyes and a bright smile instead.

“Duchess! It is so lovely to see you again! Do you remember me??”

Unable to stop yourself from returning the elated grin you were receiving, you happily exclaimed,

“Miss Hyacinth! Of course I do! What ever are you doing here?”

Overjoyed at such a greeting, the young girl in front of you replied,

“I am here with my family! My mother insisted we attend today’s opening.”

Hiding your amusement at the petulant eye roll the child gave toward the end of her sentence, you started to say,

“Well if you truly came here with your mother, then I am sure she is currently wondering where you are—”

But as if on cue, you both heard the girl’s name being harshly repeated.

“Hyacinth!”

Snapping your heads in the direction of the voice, you each saw the hasty approach of a respectably dressed woman coming your way. While you returned to your full height, she sternly said upon her arrival,

“What have I told you about running off, young lady?”

Properly feeling chastised, you saw the way Hyacinth dropped her eyes to the floor in reprimand before remorsefully saying,

“My apologies, Mama. It is just…I saw my friend, the Duchess, and just had to say hello!” 

Following the gesture her child made in your direction with her hand, the woman in front of you locked her gaze with yours as she finally seemed to take notice of your presence.

You made sure your expression was kind as she suddenly exclaimed with a sincere politeness,

“Oh! Of course! Do forgive me, Duchess!”

Recognizing how her behavior could have been seen as undignified, the person you now knew to be Lady Bridgerton followed this up by sheepishly saying through a nervous smile,

“I apologize for such a lack of composure, your Grace. I was simply worried for my child you see.”

Shaking your head to show there was no offense taken, you immediately said,

“Nonsense! It is the business of mothers to worry about their children, is it not?”

Relieved to receive such an understanding response, the woman’s smile transformed into something that was a bit more earnestly meant as she warmly said in agreement,

“Indeed it is, your Grace.”

The dowager Viscountess had just been about to ask how it was you knew her daughter, when said daughter enthusiastically asked a question of her own first.

“Duchess! Have you seen Anthony yet?”

Turning back to look at Hyacinth, you could not help saying with curiosity,

“Lord Bridgerton is here as well?”

Growing in surprise as Violet learned you seemed to know her youngest and her eldest, she hesitated for a brief second before attempting to give you an answer.

“Yes, your Grace. The last time I saw him, he was—”

“—Happy to see you and my sister have reunited.”

Following the sound of the new voice with your eyes meant you got to watch as the Lord in question joined your group with a pleasant smile on his face.

Coming to a stop directly across from you but next to his mother, the Viscount soon made it a point to announce in a teasing manner,

“I am afraid Hyacinth has spoken of little else since you two met in the park.”

Huffing a small laugh behind your gloved hand as you learned this, you then lowered it in order to reply with a humored grin, 

“If that is true, then I am honored to be remembered by such a lovely girl.”

And while your response did confirm to the child standing next to you that you also saw her as the friend she was hoping to be, she still felt embarrassed to have her admiration revealed in such a way. 

So she thought it was only right that she passionately say in her defense,

“I only speak of her as much as I do because you always agree with how beautiful she is, brother!”

Hyacinth’s name was said in reprimand once more by Lady Bridgerton while your brows shot up in surprise and Anthony’s eyes widened with his own dose of embarrassment.

Quickly making a grab for her daughter’s hand, the mother in front of you hurriedly said,

“Please excuse us, Duchess! I have been meaning to show my little one the magnificent portraits in the next room over. But it was lovely to meet you, your Grace!”

Understanding her desire to make a hasty exit, you returned her respectful courtesy as you delightfully began to say,

“The pleasure has been all mine, Lady Bridgerton!” 

And then, turned to give a similar bow of respect to the vindicated child while kindly saying,

“And until we meet again, Miss Bridgerton.”

“Until we meet again, Duchess!”

And with her excited goodbye, she and her mother began walking in another direction until they were lost within the crowd.

As you were returning your gaze to the Viscount, the sight of his offered arm caught you by surprise first.

Looking up to catch his eyes, you heard the way Lord Bridgerton cleared his throat before saying with a touch of hesitance,

“Might I have the honor, your Grace?”

If you were slow to take it, that was only because you had to give yourself the time to smile at such a gesture before placing your hand within the crook of his elbow.

“You may, my Lord.”

As he began to lead you in the direction you were originally heading in, said Lord could not stop the humored chuckle he let out. When you raised a curious brow at the sound, he proceeded to explain with a slightly deprecating smile.

“I think we are a bit past formalities given what my sister just revealed, Duchess. Going forward, you can simply call me ‘Anthony’ if you wish.”

Shocked, but touched to receive such permission, you considered your words before replying with a slight hint of thoughtfulness,

“Well, if we are dropping the formalities…then you cannot continue to call me ‘Duchess’. It may be my title, but it is not who I am.”

Smiling to himself at having such permission reciprocated, Lord Bridgerton proceeded to ask,

“Then what may I call you instead, hmm? ‘My Lady’?”

Giving your own bemused hum in return, you said after a moment of consideration,

“But that is still a title, is it not?”

There was no pause in Anthony’s response as he began to explain with a certain level of coyness,

“Well, I suppose it may be a title for some…” 

Turning his head so his gaze met yours, he finished with,

“But it could also be a true statement for others.”

While smirking in your direction.

Needing to pause in your steps as the cheekiness of his words finished processing in your mind, you were helpless to stop your originally amused smile from growing into an untameable grin on your face.

Not wanting to admit how giddy the implication of his words made you feel, you decided to meet his gaze head on as you pointedly said with humor,

“Then I suspect, Anthony, that I may not mind what you call me so long as it is not—”

“Duchess.”

At once, your pleasantly, happy bubble was shattered as the reality that you two were still in public hit like a ton of bricks.

That weight only increased tenfold over when you looked ahead and were unhappily met with the sight of your former brother-in-law standing not five feet away from you.

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[lovelykhaleesiii]

Can i request Aemond walking in on hid wife swinging his sword around.

LOVE this!! Apologies it took me a while to finish, hope you enjoy anon x

You never quite understood the whole idea of sword fighting. Some considered it a skill, others considered it an art. For your husband, Aemond, born a prince, it was natural that he be taught from a very young age, trained to be a warrior. He did not completely see it as an art, more so as a necessity that played a major role between life and death, although he did have a profound respect for those who could wield a sword.

Being a woman, from a societal standpoint, there was no need for you to come near a sword, let alone be trained. The closest you'd come was watching Aemond from above the training yard, studying his movements closely, graceful yet lethal. The idea that he could protect you, that he would kill for you, made you feel something unusual, but good unusual.

He would always tease you, question your curiosity with the skill of sword fighting.

“Perhaps one day, I may teach you myself… Some 1 on 1.”

You knew Aemond would actually teach you the basics, if you had asked, although seemingly you felt shy. That was until the opportunity presented itself.

As you wondered into your shared bedroom, calling out for your husband, before realising the room was completely empty. As you scanned the vicinity, your eyes came to face Aemond’s sword, standing by the bedpost. You’d grown familiar with the details of the handle, it’s long, silver blade glancing at you.

Almost instinctively, you felt the need to make sure there was absolutely no one else around, before you walked over to the weapon. Picking it up slowly with both hands gripping the handle tightly, you hadn’t expected it to be as heavy as it was. Although it wasn’t long before your arms acclimated to it.

A chuckle escaped your lips, as you examined the blade, a finger carefully running down the flat surface.

Your mind began to race through the movements you’d picked up watching Aemond, swinging the sword swiftly through the air, even managing to twirl it within your fingers after a few attempts.

“This isn’t so bad.” You uttered to yourself.

“Then perhaps we can duel one fine day-”

The suddenness of his response, you hadn’t even heard the door open, as your husband stood their, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame.

“Aemond, don’t scare me like that, especially when I have-” Swaying the sword in your hand, as to make it even more obvious, “this.”

“You actually aren’t so bad, better than some of the guards I’ve even trained with. Seems you have a knack of picking up things quickly.”

“Oh please, Aemond.”

You proclaim, as you return the sword down to where you’d found it untouched, before walking over towards Aemond, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I think I’d much rather leave the dirty work for you, I’ll be the damsel in distress, I quite enjoy seeing you fight for me.”

He leans down, unable to hold himself, as his lips linger just above yours, barely touching.

“Hmm, is that so?”

[pav-ia]

first i'd like to say THANK YOU SM YOURE LITERALLY FEEDING PAVIA FANS AFTER WEVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR SCRAPS FOR SO LONG | LOVE YOUR WRITING ♥︎♥︎♥︎

methinks he would be very very interested in the art of dancing for two. he's read about it, he's heard the music, he's seen the pictures, the movies, the fancy suits, the sweeping dresses, the roses - all in bits and pieces here and there. dancing with one's lover, holding them in your arms and watching the light of a candle or the moon grace their features as you let the music and movements convey the feelings in your heart, is something he believes to be very special. now that he's with you daily, the vivid image of you two dancing only grows stronger in his mind (the softening of his heart be damned): the way your fingers would lace together with one hand and grab onto each other with the second, the little clever lines he'd say now and again to try to fluster you and get you to mess up, the music that he'd carefully pick out just for the moment, and, of course, the look he would give you before the classic kiss that he's always seen after a dance such as this.

and so, after you tell him in passing conversation that you 'don't do dancing’, your imagined endearing clumsiness is another bit of extra charm added to his daydreams. he would just lead you gently with his voice and his hands, smiling once you finally get it. but why let the fantasies be fantasies?

this is basically me asking for pavia dancing with his bf (or partner if you’re making it gn) who has never really danced before. UGHHH I NEED HIM

ANON KISS ME ON THE LIPS RIGHT NOW

,, dancing ”

pavia x gn reader

warnings :: idk fluff

months into your relationship as you’re growing out of your lovesick phase, hes slowly growing into his — he doesnt realize just how much he thinks about you.

when he comes to term that you are the closest thing to a soulmate that any person has ever experienced ever, hes suddenly aware of the way his first thought when he wakes up is you, the way his heart picks up when you do any minor task for him(he holds back a little squeal and giggle when you leave him gifts💀), how his face grows uncontrollably red when you do that stupid thing with your face- when you smile and your eyes have that warm fondness in them thats overwhelmingly warm— he hates it. hes a liar

he was always fascinated with dancing. it started with when he first started his life in the city, at clubs hed see different people connecting from music and those mesmerizing movements of hips swaying or arms swinging.

after he had done a few jobs disguising himself as a gentleman attending a fancy ball, slow dancing became what interested him more. he was stunned by the beauty and grace that two people could make from just moving, their steps in sync even if they were strangers.

when he met you, he had forgotten all about that year of his life where he was fixated on the art of dancing. for the first few months, he was closed off in the relationship. he didnt feel bad at first — why would he? he deserves to be loved after all — but the way you were so patient with him, so loving and so gentle, so sweet and genuinely kind was too much. it took him a while to tell you about his past, and even then he kept it vague, but you just held him and reassured him that he did deserve to be loved.

you were too good for this world.

it took almost as long to accept that you really did care just as much as he hoped you did. and when he did accept it, he became acutely aware of how much of an effect you had on him.

one night, he had come home late. he expected you to be asleep, but he heard you humming from the kitchen. he walked in on you gently humming a tune to yourself, his wolves leon and maleficent sitting at your ankles. you were making a simple stew, your body swaying from side to side to the tune of your gentle voice.

leon noticed him almost immediately, sitting up and running to his feet. he jumped up and put his paws on pavia, sniffing at his clothes. when you turned around, he gave you a gentle smile.

“do you dance?” he blurted. he didnt know where it came from, but it was sudden and out of nowhere.

you blink at him in surprise — what a sudden question. you smile at him and it tickles the parts of his heart that are cold and unapproachable.

“not really.” you respond to his question.

hes still standing near the entrance of the kitchen, his expression unreadable. “can i teach you?”

thats what led you two to the present. he took the lead, your hand in his as you moved slowly in your living room. the cd player contently humming out a slow, romantic song that pavia had picked out as you let him hold you.

one hand on your waist, his eyes are gazing down at you in a suffocatingly loving way. he has the faintest smile, before he pulls you closer. your head against his chest only made the moment more intimate, and he rested his head on yours.

your legs occasionally tripped over one another, but he caught you right away. he hummed along with the slow song, his hand moving from your waist to the bottom of your spine. he slid his cold hand under your shirt, pressing his palm over your skin, rocking you from side to side.

youre slowly getting it, moving along with the smooth rhythm of the music. you angled your head upwards, and he raised his head to look into your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips.

the song came to an end, and as you pulled away, he tugged on your shirt. he kept his hand on you as he put a new cd in the player, and pulled you close to do another dance.