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flametrashiraarchive · 1 year

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Reader teaching Haganezuka how to eat that kittykat and fuck it properly because we all know he's a virgin still uwu

(bonus points for size kink, implied age gap [reader 20s])

(bonus points and cookies for Haganezuka being so focused, listening very intently to the puss eating lesson but gets super into it and tunes out reader as he begins to figure what to do and he can't stop himself from overstimmulating reader, which has reader smacking his head so he finally lets go)

Argh yes okay here we go! I love this beautiful nutjob and I got carried away. (I left the age of the reader ambiguous because personally I am old as shit, but I think I get cookies still for the overstimmulating?)

Also... I really want to write a part 2. I want us to take care of him after the events of season 3 because I just know that once the adrenaline wore off this poor man was hurting so bad.

Anyway, enjoy!

UNBREAKABLE, UNQUENCHABLE.

F!Reader x Hotaru Haganezuka

Content Guidance: cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, overstimulation, not stopping when reader tells him to (reader is still into it though)

Minors DNI.

"I don't make swords for civilians," the swordsmith said, his voice deep and his tone final. He turned away from you, continuing his journey down the mountain path, the soft thud of his footsteps accompanied by the gentle tinkling of the windchimes hanging from his hat.

Your heart sank for a moment before you steeled your resolve and renewed your determination. It was never going to be easy and you'd mentally prepared for rejection. This swordsmith was infamous for his unbending resolve and temper.

Running a step ahead of him, you turned to stare into the wide bug-eyes of his hyottoko mask. "Please, Haganezuka... I need a nichirin blade."

He continued walking as if he expected to simply pass through you. "No."

"But it's the only thing I can use to kill demons."

He paused. "Demon slayers kill demons. Not civilians. No sword for you."

"I am a demon slayer, just not an official one." You brace yourself for a telling off. Usually whenever you admitted to going rogue you were met with lectures about the proper way to do things and told to leave things to the demon slayer corps— but their numbers were dwindling and you'd never quite figured out breathing styles well enough for your sensei to agree to send you to final selection. Still, hacking and slashing got the job done with the right blade. "Please, Haganezuka. I had a sword with your stamp on it before. It was the best blade I've ever had and—"

"Where did you get it?" His voice was strained as if forced between gritted teeth.

"I found it..."

"SOMEONE LOST MY SWORD?"

"Yes... maybe, but I found it. It served me well and I really want another."

He turned his face away from you slightly, making the windchimes ring. "What happened to it? Did you lose the sword too?"

"No, it broke."

You could've sworn he was vibrating. "m-m-m-m-m-m-my SWORD???"

The elongated lips of the mask poked your cheek as he stepped right up against you. His haori concealed the true size and density of his body, but with him standing so close, you could tell he was muscular and incredibly strong. He was also apparently unhinged, but then again, you reasoned, what was life without a little zest?

“YOU BROKE MY SWORD??”

You'd been pre-warned that his swords were the key to winning him over, so you kept your voice level as you emptied your arsenal. "Your sword was the finest sword I have ever seen. It was an honor to wield it, Mr. Haganezuka. Not even the blade of a hashira could compare to the sublime craftsmanship of that sword. I dream about that sword." You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the heat of his body pulse against your palm as you added in a lower, more sultry tone. "And I've dreamed about meeting the artist who forged such a perfect sword for a very long time."

His chest rose sharply as he pushed out the only response he could manage; a strained, breathless grunt.

Taking his broad, calloused hand in yours, you gazed into the eyes of his mask. "Mr. Haganezuka... please make me a sword?"

The trees swayed overhead, the sigh of the leaves the only break in the utter silence between you and the swordsmith.

"Mister Haganezuka?"

The windchimes tinkled. "Tell me your name."

You told him, and he repeated it back, slowly and carefully as if trying it out.

The mask's mouth moved to your nose as he stared you in the eyes. "Mine is Hotaru. Do you need a husband?"

"I... uhh..." you stammered, suddenly feeling very warm as the heat of his burly frame pulsed against you. "Do I need a..."

He carefully removed the hyottoko mask and with it, removed every particle of air from your lungs. Ravenette hair threaded with silver, amber eyes which glowed like the forge, dark, severe eyebrows which slanted downward as he awaited your answer. He was... beautiful, treading the fine line between painfully pretty and achingly rugged.

"Yes." You said firmly. "Yes I do need a husband."

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

Two days later you were married to Hotaru and about to spend your first night at the Swordsmith Village. Ordinarily, outsiders had to undergo a lengthy initiation process to ensure the village remained a secret, but the village chief fast-tracked your application and damn near pulled you through the gates himself.

It seemed he was just as keen as you were to get your marriage to Hotaru underway. In fact, the whole village pitched in to ensure your wedding went ahead quickly and without a snag.

“Thank you for marrying Hotaru,” the village chief whispered while you were in the middle of your vows. “You have no idea the relief you have brought to the village. We were beginning to lose hope. He has never shown any interest in anything besides swords. Once Hotaru finds something to focus his attention on it's nigh impossible to tear him away from it.”

Before you knew it, you were a wife, married to a man so introverted he spent the majority of your wedding day hiding behind a tree, peering out at you as you chatted to the villagers. In fact, he only came out from behind the tree when someone walked over to congratulate him on the marriage, and even then it was only to find a different tree to hide behind.

"Hotaru..." you sighed adoringly as you slipped away from the crowd to stand beside your husband in his hiding spot. "Are you unhappy?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm happy."

"Ah... You just prefer to be alone?"

"Yes. With you. I want to be alone with you."

He was a strange man, but he melted your heart with every other word. And Gods, he was beautiful. You yearned for him like no other. You craved him.

"Husband, for my wedding gift, will you—"

"No sword for you," he said firmly. "No fighting demons. No risking your life. You are my wife now and it's my job to protect you, even if that means protecting you from yourself. So no sword."

You couldn't help but smile. It seemed Hotaru's dedication to being a husband was as intense as his dedication to smithing.

"I promise, no more demon slaying, but I wasn't going to ask about the sword."

"Oh?"

You leaned in and whispered against his ear. "I was going to ask you to take me to bed."

His orange eyes snapped to your lips as though he couldn't quite believe what you had said. He cleared his throat and tried to speak but only managed a choked grunt.

Silence descended between you until he finally found his voice. "I don't know how to do… those things."

"I can teach you."

He didn't speak. He simply took your hand in his and led you away from the wedding party and deep into the woods. After a minute he looked back at you and picked you up, carrying you against his burly chest.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"A place where we can be alone. They won't find us."

He carried you a little further, to a small, seemingly abandoned work shed. Inside there was a small forge and smithing tools, and a small living area with a bed and basic amenities. The air was thick with the lingering tang of smoke and molten steel.

"Is... this our home?"

Hotaru shook his head. "This is where I come to work in peace when I really need to concentrate.''

He set you down carefully beside the bed and waited. Except, he wasn't simply "waiting." Hotaru's eyes drank you in, gazing at you with soft reverence. He was so big, so intimidating and by all accounts completely lacking any kind of social skills, but you had won his heart entirely. He was softer than molten steel for you, and more than willing for you to hone and hammer him into the shape you desired him to be.

"Teach me," he said. "I'm ready."

You nodded, your heart thrumming with the anticipation of what was to come. "Okay. Would you like to use your fingers? Your tongue? Or your cock?"

"Yes. All. Teach me how to use them."

Marrying this strange man had definitely been one of your better decisions.

Closing the space between you, you wrapped your arms around your husband's neck and gazed into those fiery eyes. "Well, we should start with a kiss. Do you know how to do that?"

His brow knitted. "Yes of course I know how to kiss."

"Good. Then kiss me, Hotaru."

He leaned down and pecked your cheek.

"Was that good?" An expectant look lingered on his face, faltering by the second. "I... that's what you want, isn't it? Do you want more? I can give you more."

Gods, the man was completely uninitiated.

Still, you couldn't help but smile as he eagerly peppered your cheek with little kisses; dozens of them, soft and dry and so sweet. His brow remained furrowed in concentration throughout, and you remained patient as he expressed his devotion. But when they inched closer to the corner of your mouth you turned your face to press your lips to his.

The moment your lips touched, he froze, eyes wide as you gently and slowly pulled him into your kiss.

His lips were still and stiff beneath yours as he adjusted to the new sensation. And then they softened. Gradually, tentatively, he followed your lead. His lips crept across yours, careful and slow like he was learning the steps to a new dance and didn't want to tread on you.

You licked the seam between his lips, easing your tongue through the gap as he inhaled sharply and he brought his hands to your waist.

And then something inside him snapped. A restraint cut loose.

He wound his arms around you, lifting you off the ground. The strength in his arms was breathtaking; forged by decades of tireless labor, and now wholly dedicated to you as he pushed you down onto the bed and slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring this newfound pleasure.

Your kisses awakened a voracious appetite in him and before long he was devouring you with heated passion, barely giving you time to breathe. It was as if he had gone his entire life without intimacy, but once the dam had cracked it was impossible to stop the flood.

His tongue stroked yours again and again as his tough hands skated up the length of your legs. When he reached your knees he granted your tingling lips a reprieve, kissing your throat as he pushed up the skirt of your wedding dress and squeezed the tender flesh of your thighs with a wanton groan.

"My pretty wife," he growled as you shifted beneath him, craving his touch. "Tell me how to make you feel good."

You parted your legs, pulling your skirt up all the way to reveal yourself to him. A sharp intake of breath expanded Hotaru's chest as he looked down at your pussy. A muscle in his cheek danced and his grip on your thighs tightened as his eyes filled with a look of pure hunger.

"Do you want to touch me?" you asked, your breaths coming in shallow bursts as anticipation coiled in your belly.

His answer was barely a whisper. "Very much." He swallowed hard. "May I?"

"Please... please do," you whispered, your need for him drowning out the rest of the world. It was just you and Hotaru, and nothing else mattered.

The sound of his shaking breaths was the only break in the silence. His hand left your thigh and he gently brushed his fingertips along the edge of your folds.

“Soft,” Was the only word which emerged from his lips as he stared and explored the shape of you. His orange eyes were focused, his perpetually furrowed brow somehow even more severe. Hotaru was lost in concentration, entirely focused on mapping the curves and ridges of your cunt.

You lay there on the bed, letting him find his bearings. His gentle exploratory touches sent shivers through your body. Those rough, calloused fingers touched you with such care and attentiveness. His eyes snapped back to yours every time you made a sound or breathed a little harder.

Hotaru was a devoted craftsman– his hands finely tuned tools– and they were dedicated entirely to your pleasure. He found your entrance and pushed a finger into you, watching intently as your pussy clenched around it.

You sighed in pleasure. "Gods, Hotaru, you're making me so wet…"

"Is that good? Am I making you happy?"

"Yes. That's good."

"Hm," he muttered, as if filing the information away. "A wet wife is a happy wife."

A sharp gasp escaped you as he nudged the hood of your clit with his thumb and his lips curved into a smile.

"You like this, don't you?" He hummed pensively and circled your clit, spreading your wetness.

Squirming beneath him, you nodded as the heat on your cheeks blossomed. "Yes, Hotaru. Keep doing that."

Gods, those rough hands. They sent jolts of pleasure surging through your body as he lavished attention on your clit, fascinated by the way it swelled as he worked with dogged determination. He added another thick finger to your cunt, stretching you deliciously.

A quiet groan emerged from him as you began to fuck yourself on his fingers, hard and fast as he rubbed your clit. He watched you intently, his lips parting in sync with your cry as your first orgasm of the night rocked through your body.

"Oh look at you, my pretty wife with your sensitive little bead." He moved down your body, lowered his head and nuzzled your clit with his nose.

"Ho-taru…"

The wet heat of his mouth closed over your tender bud, pulling another cry from your lips.

"Ah! You like that too," he murmured as he knelt between your knees, his long, dark hair spread like strands of seaweed across your thighs.

"Yes. D-do it again… please… use your tongue."

“My tongue?”

You sucked in a breath as he licked your clit with the tip of his tongue, tasting your essence.

He groaned. "Mm~ fuck, this is good."

"More… please…"

In response to your demand, he raised his hand to press his thumb against your lower lip. "Show me how to lick you well."

Gods, this man. You took his thumb into your mouth, showing him exactly what to do, licking the tip of it as if it was your clit. He groaned as you lapped his thumb, his eyes fluttering shut as his jaw clenched.

"That feels… huh…" He bit back a groan before burying his face in your pussy and replicating the motion on your clit.

Thank the Gods he has the foresight to take you away from the village, because the sounds he pulled from you were unholy. He was eager and so receptive to your lessons.

Hotaru put everything he had into eating your pussy; the slick, sucking sound of his mouth and his hot, wet tongue accompanied by your desperate cries. With every passing moment his confidence grew, pumping those thick fingers into you and curling them against your walls, his mouth and fingers working in tandem to give you more pleasure than you ever expected.

As he pleasured you, he ground his hips against the mattress, groaning as he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth. It was too good, too intense. Your senses were flooded with him; the sight of that beautiful man devouring you, the acrid scent of the forge, the lewd wet sound of his mouth on your cunt. And Gods, nothing had ever felt so good before.

Hotaru was born to forge swords and eat pussy, and he did both with unbreakable focus.

You sucked his fingers and he sucked your clit, groaning as he voraciously lapped the sensitive nub, driving you higher… higher…

An immense wave of pleasure crashed through you as you reached your peak, the force of your orgasm making your legs tremble. His name tore through you like a cry to the heavens, his answer a soft moan which vibrated through your core as he kept on licking. On and on, lapping at your pulsing clit as you gasped and bucked your hips against his insatiable mouth.

"Ho-taru… you did it… you made me–"

Taking his fingers from your mouth, he slung a heavy arm across your belly and continued eating you out, unrelenting, pulling another choked cry from you. Hotaru was drunk on you, on the taste and the knowledge that he was pleasing you; groaning, grinding his hips against the mattress, breathing in the intoxicating scent of you as he fluttered his tongue over your overstimulated clit.

The village chief had told you his focus was unbreakable, and now that attention was dedicated to your pussy. He was lost in you, wholly devoted to pleasuring you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, torn between needing respite and craving more.

He propelled you from your second orgasm right into your third. Intense pleasure drove your head back against the pillow as you screamed in ecstasy and torment, your pussy throbbing beneath his lips as your nectar ran down his chin. And still, he licked you with an unquenchable thirst.

"Hotaru! Ho- oh it's too much.”

He hit a spot inside your cunt which made the world shatter around the pair of you, sending you careening into another climax which turned your blood to liquid steel. “Too much! I can't!" You swatted at his forehead, smacking him with your fingertips as you wriggled out from beneath him.

Your husband stared at you, dazed and breathless, his lips glistening with your slick juices. "Did… did I do it right?"

You gasped for air, trembling down to your bones. “You did it perfectly, Hotaru.”

He pulled you into him and kissed you. You licked the taste of your desire from his lips, swallowing the low groan which rolled from his chest. His lips caressed yours with deep, undying passion, his hand dropping to the bulge tenting his hakama trousers.

“Let me take care of you now,” you whispered into his ear as your hand joined his, cupping his cock and making him moan. “Lie back for me, my love.”

He did as you asked without protest. It was true that you wanted to take care of him and give him as much pleasure as he had given you, but in a more practical sense, being on top of him allowed you to have control. You were already so fucked out, and from the feel of things–from the girth and weight of it through his trousers– control was definitely going to be necessary.

You stood from the bed and undressed as he gazed up at you, languidly palming his cock in his broad hand and drinking in the sight of you.

“Such a lovely wife,” he whispered, his orange eyes heavy with desire.

“And I have such a handsome husband…” you replied as you undressed him, revealing his big, muscular body inch by firmly hewn inch. He was a mountain of a man, and Gods, there wasn’t a thing you would change about him. “A handsome husband who pleases me well…” You kissed him, gently pushing him back and straddling his hips. “And who makes the very best swords in all the world–”

“Ohh…” He groaned, gripping your hips as you brushed the fat tip of his cock against your pussy. “Say that again.”

“Hm? That you’re the best swordsmith in the world?” You eased the top inch of him in, letting your body adjust to the sensation. “That your swords are works of art?”

“Gods, I want you,” he hissed, baring his teeth and gazing up at you from the pillow. A deep, longing groan emerged from him as you inched your way down his length. “You… you are…so warm… so wet… beautiful.”

You skated your hands over the plain of his abdomen, taking him deeper, your back arching as he stretched you even at that slow pace. When you finally reached the bottom of his shaft, you were breathless, tingling at your core. Hotaru was even less composed than you.

The swordsmith growled, bending his knees to slide his legs up and down the mattress, fighting the urge to fuck up into you. His cock twitched inside you as you rocked forward to kiss him, your breasts pressed against his burly chest, his rough hands skating up your back.

“I love you, Hotaru,” you whispered before rocking back to start riding his cock.

“I–ngggh ohh… ohhh!” he groaned, eyes widening, fingers digging into your hips with bruising ferocity as you bounced on top of him. His control slipped almost immediately.

He fell apart, groaning and thrusting up into you with a loud moan. His eyes screwed shut, his face flushed scarlet, and he trembled beneath you as his cum flooded into you, spilling out onto the base of his cock.

Pulling you down into an embrace, Hotaru held you in his arms, his heart thrumming beneath your ear. His big, broad hand stroked your back as he kissed the top of your head and his cock softened inside you.

After his breathing returned to normal, he gathered his senses long enough to ask, “Do you need more, my love?”

“I’m more than satisfied,” you said with a smile.

He was asleep a second later.

You lay there, pinned by his arms, crushed up against this strange, wonderful man you called your husband, and there was nowhere else you would rather be.

#The Collected Works of Flamey 📖#kny haganezuka #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #haganezuka smut #demon slayer haganezuka

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anakinstwinklebunny · 3 months

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MAFIA!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read for your own safety and comfort. Kinda violence, ani is a criminal, italian phrases/words (i do learn this language but if there's any mistake, im so sorry), mentions of drugs and gambling, ani with troublematic childhood, ITS VERY LONG!!

Mafia!Anakin who didn't know happiness until he met you. Yes, he had money, he had luxurious life but when you appeared in his life, you filled an empty hole in his heart

Mafia!Anakin who spoils you like crazy. You want something, you'll get it the same day, unless your behavior is out of place

Mafia!Anakin who keeps you away from most of his business for your own safety. He'd not forgive himself if something would happen to you because of him/his job

Mafia!Anakin who taught you how to use a gun so you could protect yourself when he's not around;

"No, again," his voice cut through your thoughts, firm and authoritative. Normally, Anakin was carefree in your presence, but teaching you how to use a gun was a different matter – he took it very seriously.

"What's wrong now?" you retorted, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You had been doing this for hours, with nothing but mistakes and failures, and your patience was wearing thin.

"Your grip...again," he said firmly, stepping closer behind you. He reached out to adjust your grip, his hands guiding yours. "You need a firmer grip, angel."

"I already have a firm grip," you retorted stubbornly.

He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle "Not as firm as it should be," he gently corrected "it's not a puppy you're holding in your hand, dolcezza." His hand wrapped around yours, adjusting your fingers and gripping them even tighter, forcing you to hold the gun properly. "This is what a firm grip looks like."

He pulled away, fixing his gaze on you again, searching for any mistakes. You tried your best to keep still, clutching the damn thing in your shaking hands. Generally, you didn't like such objects, but with Anakin, it was slightly easier. You knew he was doing this out of concern for your well-being.

"Your feet are too close together." He observed, moving in closer. "Having such a small base gives you less balance, which you don't want. You need a steady position in situations like these, angel. Otherwise, things can go very wrong."

He gently pushed his knee between your legs, widening your stance. You involuntarily stirred a little at his action, but he continued "You need to be sturdy, firm. But at the same time, flexible"

"You don't stand like that when you use a gun," you pointed out

he chuckled again, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "That's because I've been holding one ever since I was a kid, angel. You're just learning, sweetheart. You need to learn the proper stance first. We'll get to my type of stance when you have the basics nailed down."

He gently adjusted your stance, his hands steady on your hips. "Keep your feet hip-width apart, and relax your shoulders. It's all about balance and control."

Mafia!Anakin who's obviously possessive over his treasure, his pretty angel. If any man dared to look at you in a way that made you uncomfortable or made anakin question the man's behavior, anakin would make sure he would never look at you again

Mafia!Anakin who takes you to casinos which are filled with rich guys and lavishly dressed women. The place where crimes begin. He'd most of the time let you sit on his lap while he plays gambling, asking for your favorite number for his own luck

Mafia!Anakin who makes sure everyone knows that you're his and only his. Multiple marks on your neck from his lips, his hand on your waist and much more was just basics to publicly claim you

Mafia!Anakin who speaks to you in change between Italian and english, often calling you tesoro, dolcezza but also angel, baby, sweetheart

Mafia! Anakin who finds you and his close friends that he works with as his only family

Mafia!Anakin who shows you the world; takes you to different places in other countries for vacation

Mafia!Anakin who's absolutely in love with your reactions to his gifts for you; your wide smile, your sparkling with excitement eyes, your endless 'thank you' between your kisses

Mafia!Anakin who keeps you away from any drugs his friends bring since he wants to keep you away from such things

Mafia!Anakin who would throw himself on train for you. Who would take a bullet for you if he'd have to, if it meant to keep you safe and happy. Who would do anything you want. Even deprive someone of their life, since he did much worse things

Mafia!Anakin who has a habit of using new things on your delicate body;

you both laid in his king-sized bed as he worshipped your body with his plush, pink lips, gently pressing kisses against your stomach. Between his slim fingers he held the tweezers to occasionally add more radiant diamonds inside your belly button

"I love using them on you. You're just so hot," he murmured against your skin

"So irresistible," he continued with a huskier tone "Such a pretty girl..so beautiful..so gorgeous."

He moved his lips to yours, gently brushing them against each other "You would never leave me, would you?"

You shook your head defiantly, locking your gaze with his blue eyes that you could so easily drown in

"Good girl"

Mafia!Anakin who would never dare himself to treat you like he treats others. You're his favorite girl, his pretty angel and he'd be damned if he even dared himself to adress to you with such coldness or disrespect

Mafia!Anakin who loves the sound of your voice. You could just talk about nonsense, or about the book you've been reading and he'd be completely mesmerized by the sweet, gentle sound of it

Mafia!Anakin who finds you as his only source of comfort. After a rough day all he'll do is clinging to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, savouring your scent. In your presence he could easily calm down, easily forget about the earlier events, at least for some time.

Mafia!Anakin who has a heart of ice but for you he'd burn the world

Mafia!Anakin who killed a man with the nearest object he could find (a book) just because he dared himself to touch you

Mafia!Anakin who hates to argue with you but when it happens, it always ends in the bed with rough love making

Mafia!Anakin who made love to you in every room, every small or bigger place in your shared penthouse

Mafia!Anakin who sometimes, if you're okay with it or insist yourself, takes out his frustration and indignation on you in bed;

"they're just so stupid" he growled in anger and annoyance, letting it all pour on his rough thrust "They can't do one thing correctly.. I swear to god if they mess up another goddamn thing, I'm going to kill them all. Every. Single. One of them"

"they're so useless. So pathetic." he leaned to kiss your neck "They can't do anything right, can't follow a single simple order to save their lives"

Each thrust in and out seemed to go even deeper, hitting this sweet spot that made you see those delightful stars as moans slipped through your mouth. Your eyes kept fighting to stay open, to see this desperate, awfully beautiful expression on his face. This sweaty curls, all messy and getting to his sharp blue eyes, this clenched jaw, his muscles that ripped and were, especially now, looking more defined and flexible than earlier. Gosh, the sight was enough to bring you over the edge

His eyes turned more soft, his own thrusts becoming more gentle. He was proud of himself, making a complete mess out of you and every time he loved to see you like this. All breathless and with marks all over your skin

"But at least I have you to help me release all this pent up anger.. you're so good at it, tesoro. So good for me...Only you can undo me, angioletto" he whispered, his breath growing ragged with each movement of his hips. "Only you can save me from my anger"

Mafia! Anakin who is a switch; yes, he can be a dominant one but he can easily turn into a submissive boy from only you being on top of him;

"Ani..it's so big.." you mewl, trying to adjust to his size in a new position

your words made him let out a low, pleased moan. He couldn't leave his pretty girl all helpless now, could he? His hands roamed towards your hips to help you move on his lenght "You flatter me, principessa" he groaned "Feels too big for you, does it? Too much?"

As much as his words could be true, you didn't want to admit it. You didn't want to stop it "mh--no..just.. perfect" with his help you lifted and slammed down on his cock

Your actions caused him to throw his head back and dig his long fingers to your soft flesh

"you feel so good..." he mumbled. Seeing you accustom to his size, he moved his hands through your body, feeling the need to squeeze, grope and touch every spot

"Dio, you're gonna be the death of me..." He whispered, driving himself deeper into you to feel more friction

Feeling his member pulsing against your walls only gave you another reason to tease him more, to bring him over the edge in the most pleasant way (for you)

"Oh gods..." he mumbled, his teeth gritted as he felt you increasing your movements "You're gonna...drive me... insane, c-cazzo.."

"you're gonna be a good boy and fill me up?" you moaned, watching his screaming in pleasure face

A shiver run down his body after he had heard your breathless words. There was something about seeing you turn from a sweet girl to a taking charge woman that absolutely turned him on more than he would like to admit

"Y-yeah.." he panted, his eyes opening to fix on her face, "I'll be a good boy for you, I'll fill you up... I'll do anything you say... anything to please you, bella"

Mafia!Anakin who goes absolutely crazy when you surprise him with new lingeries, costumes for cosplays; it all drove him insane

Mafia!Anakin who gives you the experience of three times in a row (making you finish for the three times);

his lips gently pressed against your neck, going up to whisper words in your ear "You tell me if you need to stop. You're so tired, I don't want to go too far and hurt you, ok?"

And you, all weary and sensitive after all what happened, could only nod in response. When his lips were going down your body, to your specific spot, your hand went down to grab at his curls, tugging on some strands around your fingers as he finally wrapped his lips around your clit-all with his eyes on yours

"You'll be walking with a limp tomorrow, mio piccolo coniglio" he mumbled between your flesh

Even if you were already tired, the shockwaves of pleasure went through your body, causing your moans to get louder

"Ani.." you whined breathlessly

The sound of his name leaving your lips made his entire body shudder. He loved the way you'd moan, whine and cry out his name. It was like a drug to him, and he craved it, craved the way you sounded and the way you tasted "Gods I love you" he breathed against your core

"the dearest god..." you moaned as his tongue lapped at your folds, making you arch your back

"You taste so good, sweetheart..can't have enough of you, never can.." he speeded his movements which was enough to make you scream

Mafia!Anakin who often talks to you about his traumatic childhood which obviously made a huge impact on his future

Mafia!Anakin who's basically a criminal; wouldn't hesitate to kill someone if that person was in his way

Mafia!Anakin who finds comforting in teaching you Italian. Just loves hearing you speak that language, even if you may suck at it

I've never really thanked you guys for being here, with me. For all your support, for all the lovely sweet comments. For reaching out to me in my inbox/dms..thank you for 301 followers! Really, love all of you with all my heart. Sending big hugs and kisses!

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune @divineani @erosmutt @emmaloo21 @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @fuckmyskywalker

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

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madschiavelique · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k

note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!

the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission

tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy

Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:

"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”

Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.

The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...

"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.

The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.

"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.

"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."

"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.

"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.

The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.

"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"

"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."

Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.

"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.

"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."

"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"

"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.

"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.

"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.

You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"

The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.

"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."

It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.

Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.

"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"

He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:

"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."

I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.

"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.

"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.

Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.

Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...

"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.

You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.

Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.

So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.

And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.

"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.

"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"

"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.

"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.

"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.

Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.

It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.

Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.

"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.

"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.

And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.

He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.

Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.

"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."

Oh, it won't be sleep.

He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.

The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.

It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.

His nose wrinkled slightly.

"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"

Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.

"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."

And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.

"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.

He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...

But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.

His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.

So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.

A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.

"Where," the question sounding more like a command.

His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.

"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.

You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.

"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.

It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.

The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.

His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.

"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."

His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.

"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.

Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.

You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.

He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.

His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:

"Kiss me," you whined, "please."

His eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Mira que buena."

He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.

Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.

He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.

"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”

Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.

"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.

All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.

"I want... I want you to..."

You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.

The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.

"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.

You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :

"I want you to fuck me."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.

His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.

"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.

You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.

You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.

And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:

"I want you to fuck me."

His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.

"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."

His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?

You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.

You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"

His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:

"Fuck me, please."

His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.

If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?

"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.

His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.

His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.

And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.

Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.

"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.

The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.

You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.

He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.

"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.

Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.

To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.

As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.

As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.

You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.

He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.

He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.

And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.

You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.

His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.

He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.

The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.

His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.

He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.

Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.

"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.

You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.

Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.

Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.

Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.

He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.

It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.

His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.

As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.

As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.

One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.

He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.

"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.

He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:

"Say that again."

A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.

"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."

He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.

His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.

"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"

Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.

"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.

Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.

"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.

"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.

His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.

"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.

"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.

His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.

"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."

With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.

Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.

Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.

The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.

You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.

"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."

The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.

"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"

His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.

"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.

"Use your words," he said simply.

"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."

He nodded, proud.

"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."

Timidly, you parted your lips.

"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.

You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.

Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.

His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.

"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.

"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.

He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:

"Ready?"

You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:

"Ready."

He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.

"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."

So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:

"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.

His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.

"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.

He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.

Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.

"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.

As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.

His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.

He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.

His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.

His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.

After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.

His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.

Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.

"Qué guapa," he breathed.

His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.

Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.

"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."

It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.

And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.

You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.

"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”

His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.

One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.

He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.

His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.

You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.

Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.

Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.

And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.

Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.

He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.

You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.

You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.

You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.

"How did you know?" he whispered.

The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.

"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.

He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.

"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.

"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.

"Two letters?" he asked, curious.

"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."

He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.

"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."

Us, two letters, a whole world.

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #astv x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel astv #smut #Spotify

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nxuvillette · 5 months

Text

CLASS IS IN SESSION — DR . RATIO

synopsis : vertias decided to have a little bit of fun with you during one of his lectures.

❥- pairings : vertias ratio x fem!reader

❥- note : finally back out of my slump ! sort of.. LMAO. this post was inspired by this thirst, all credit goes to them :) ! i hope you enjoy and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3.

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, use of a vibrator, reader is in class, mentions of hookups, teasing, cum mentions, professor!vertias ( they are around the same age ! ), reader is a bit shy.

It wasn’t smart of you to do, no. You should have shut down Vertias the moment he even thought of the idea, but his persuasion corrupted your mind and made you unable to say no. Then again, it was harmless fun! It’s not like anybody would actually be able to notice the beads of sweat that chased down your face, or how your eyes kept flickering at that damn clock that just couldn’t seem to move any faster.

Down below you was Vertias Ratio in all of his glory. He spoke nonsense about mathematics and how to do the proper formula in order to solve the problem written on the board. You knew he loved nothing better than teaching complete, well, idiots how to do things the right way. The man you had been sneaking around with always spoke negatively about the classmates you had. He said they would probably never obtain great knowledge like he did.

He hadn’t bat even an eyelash at you the entire time. He was merely too focused on teaching the class he almost forgot about the little vibrating object that was tucked nice and snug between your legs. You, however, were fully aware of the toy that was buzzing away inside your panties. Although it was quite subtle, you were still feeling such a great wave of pleasure against your clit. You were convinced that you had soaked through your panties and were probably making a mess on the chair underneath you, but that wasn’t your biggest concern at all. Honestly, you didn’t know why you agreed to such a lewd thing. It might have been because thrill was something you were into, but then again, thrills came with loads of risk.

The scholar then turned to face the many people sitting inside his lecture hall. His amber eyes landed on you sitting in the third row. Vertias could feel his cock aching in his boxers, knowing that your pussy was probably dripping with arousal. He maintained his serious facade, and decided to have some fun.

He stepped towards the desk at his table, leaning over to hold the controller that went together with the vibrator inside you. Suddenly, the buzzing became more intense. It whirred against your folds and made you snap your thighs together almost immediately. Vertias could hardly hide the smirk on his features when he saw you trembling in your seat and shifting around uncomfortably. How fucking cute.

“(Y/N), do you know the answer?” he questioned, motioning his head at the equation written on the board.

Your cheeks burned the moment his question registered inside your brain. You couldn’t fucking believe him right now. It was almost as if he was setting you up to embarrass the hell out of you. Not to mention, you hadn’t been paying attention the entire time. You really didn’t know the answer, and you were far too occupied with the burning pleasure between your legs to even think of the solution.

The many eyes of the people sitting around you were felt. It was becoming an awkward silence given how long you had been quiet for. “N-No, I have yet to s-solve it!” the last few words almost came out like a gasp, because Vertias pumped up the pleasure.

He didn’t seem to mind your reply. If it was any other person, he would have scolded them with some snarky comment that would have for sure left them feeling stupid. “Do try and work faster next time.” he then turned around, scraping the chalk against the board to begin another equation.

But, just as he finished, the bell signaling that his class was over rang in your ears. You felt immediate relief come over you, but once you caught his eyes looking right at you, you knew that it wasn’t really over for you anyway.

You began to pack up your things while the other people inside of the room filed out into the hallway. This left you completely alone with Vertias. He was waiting for you down below. It didn’t take you long to reach the man you were secretly fucking for months on end. He could see the way your thighs were shaking and how your breathing was just a bit heavier than usual. He was so fucking thankful that this stupid class was over. Vertias couldn’t hide his bulge any longer.

The taller man pulled you against his body. Butterflies swarmed your stomach the moment you felt his cock pressing against your belly. It was painfully hard. You automatically knew what he wanted by the way his hands were exploring your body. Your hands rested on his muscular shoulders while his fingers traveled below to your skirt. A sigh left his mouth when he made contact with your underwear that were completely soaked through.

Vertias’ digits pulled your panties aside. His fingertips brushed your clit, making you whimper into his ear. Oh my, you were just so fucking sensitive for him. He loved the way you were melting in his hands like putty. “How dirty of you..” he whispered. “Your pussy is so wet.. you must have been having the time of your life in your seat.”

Your eyes were focused on the ground before you. It felt almost embarrassing knowing what he was doing to you. “Vertias.. please.” you mewled as he played with your sensitive bead.

He forced you to look at him. His eyes were completely blown with lust and you could just sense how turned on he was. “If anyone asks.. I’m giving you some extra credit, got it?” he raised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply.

You nodded. “Y-Yes..”

“Good.. now sit on my desk. We’re gonna be here a while..” he whispered, squeezing your lips together.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #dr ratio smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #hsr x you #star rail smut #star rail x reader

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒏

hello, I want to thank @foxyprincessworld for inspiring me to write this.

connected to fairytale

summary - it has been a while since meeting ari in the woods, and while he goes out to gather food for you two, you manage to get yourself stuck.

warning - smut, inter-species, tiny fairy, stuck, slight fingering, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Ari had gone out to gather some berries and vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin, ensuring you’d be stocked up for the rapidly approaching winter. While he was out picking, you were fluttering around the house, ensuring things were clean and neat. Since you met Ari that fateful night, becoming his partner, the cabin also became your home.

You had been cleaning all day in your human form, making sure you could cut the cleaning time in half with your size before finding a spot that no large thing could reach. You wave your hand, allowing your magic to dance over you and shrink you into your fairy form. You fly over to the area, noticing through the small hole that it has become dirty. You knew Ari didn’t care about these things, but you did. So, you began to clean, softly groaning as you kept missing a few spots, pulling yourself further into the tiny hole, your hips catching onto the sides. You wiggle, huffing when you realise that you are stuck. “Oh no… I do hope Ari gets back soon.” You let out a cute little sneeze as the dust tickles your nose.

Ari grins at the basket in his hands, loving that it’s filled to the brim and that he can show you what he’s managed to gather. He heads into the cabin, setting down the basket on the table and then looks around confused, wondering where you are as you usually came to greet him. “Fairy? Bear here!” He grunts, scrunching his nose. “Little Fairy?!” Ari begins to walk deeper into the house, becoming worried that something may have happened to you.

“I’m here, Bear. I’m okay. I’m just stuck...” You sigh and allow magic to flow through you, appearing before your man.

Ari stares at the bright ball, following it as it slowly leads him to where you are stuck. The ball disappears when Ari stops where you are, and his eyes widen. “Oh, Fairy! How?” He can’t deny that his cock twitches when his eyes land on your exposed arse, your dress lifted from wiggling. “Stuck?” You still weren’t able to teach him how to speak proper sentences, but you found it endearing with his short answers. Knowing he tries so hard, his face always scrunches up, trying to find the right things to say, and the thing you love most about him is even though it becomes hard for him sometimes, he never gives up.

“Yeah, Bear. I’m stuck, and my magic cannot get me out of this one.” You pout, not noticing that the more you wiggle, the more that becomes exposed, causing the giant bear behind you to become aroused. “Could you please help me?”

Ari nods, too preoccupied with how your arse jiggles and your sweet honey pot glistens. He licks his lips at the thought of honey and how delicious you taste. “Help after,” Ari growls out, quickly ridding himself free from his pants and gripping his thick, monstrous cock. He begins to stroke it, grunting as pre-cum leaks from his angry tip.

“What? Ari, what do you mean after? Bear?” He ignores you, too lost in his mind now. You softly squeak as his finger connects with your dripping cunt. You now understand what is happening and allow your magic to wash over you. “You can enter, Bear.” You whimper when he pushes his thick finger inside, stretching you and curling it, ensuring you are wet enough to take him.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Your head falls forward as he pulls his finger out and replaces it with his member. His tip stretches you wide as Ari pushes in. “Oh, god…” He rests his hands against the wood, fucking into you harder and faster, enjoying how your tight walls squeeze him.

“Not god.” Ari growls, fucking into you harder. “I Bear!” Your tiny body rocks back and forth, and your eyes roll back as the pleasure intensifies. Your walls pulsate like crazy around Ari, causing a groan to slip out. “My Fairy!” Your arousal builds, leaking alongside his thick base, coating him and creating a white creamy ring. “So pretty and tiny.” He hums, staring down at your stretched-out cunt with a dazed look, entranced by how hot it looks.

Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. “B–bear! I’m going to–” You cut yourself off with a strangled moan. Your vision becomes white as your walls squeeze around him, and your juices squirt out of you. You fall limp, exhaustion hitting you. Ari continues to thrust into you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten, cock twitching. He releases thick amounts of cum into you, coating your walls.

Once Ari empties himself, his cock softens, and he slowly pulls out of you. “Bear, help now.” He grumbles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead before punching the wood, snapping it enough to rip it away and pull you out of the tiny hole. He lies you on the palm of his hand, looking down at you with a soft look, “Fairy, okay?”

You snuggle into his palm, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. “I’m okay, Bear. Thank you.” You give him a soft tap and sigh as he moves you to the chair. Your hand waves, and you feel your body slowly grow, allowing you to become human-sized. You stretch, kissing Ari’s palm as he rests it on your cheek. “How did your picking go, Bear?”

The smile on his face makes you think he’d be able to brighten up a room with how bright and gorgeous it is. Ari quickly moves over to the basket and brings it back to you, showing you the many things he picked. You smile, eyes dancing around the many different colours. “You did wonderful, Bear! I could maybe make some soup for dinner and a pie for dessert.” You slowly stand, legs feeling like jelly.

Ari places the basket back down and pulls you into him by the hips. He looks down at you with such love and adoration, like he cannot believe he has you in his life. “Bear love Fairy… S–so much.” He wraps an arm around your waist while his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “Pretty Fairy.”

You smile, eyes becoming clouded with love. “I love you too, Bear, so much. My big handsome bear.” Your hand rests flat on his chest, and the other cups his cheek, stroking the soft beard underneath before moving up to scratch between his cute bear ears. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been working so hard lately.” Your lashes flutter as you continue to stare up at him. “I’ll prepare dinner, okay?”

Ari shakes his head, huffing. He peppers kisses against your face, smiling at how beautiful you look. “I help.”

That night you and Ari make dinner, and as that is cooking, he helps you prepare dessert. You couldn’t have wished for anything better. He’d wrap you in his arms as you made the food before pulling you over to the couch, holding you against him while you both waited for dinner. Your hand rested against your stomach, knowing that when you finally told the news to Ari, he would be so happy. You’d finally have everything you had ever wished for.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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jymwahuwu · 6 months

Note

Sunday being head of the Oak Family. What if reader is the head of other Family who is trying to act as political opposition? Acting all tough, even hostile, trying to be a strong woman and a leader.

Sunday knows solution and she can be easily fixed!

Reader simply lacks a husband and couple of kids to care for so our benevolent angel Sunday will generously provide it for her, everyone deserves to have family, even bitchy arrogant women like reader.

Thank you thank you!! The content that humiliates arrogant reader is my favorite ><!! I think Sunday will not discipline you immediately, but try to give you a chance…

TW: yandere, non-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)

Which family are you the leader of? Alfalfa who controls economy, Bloodhound who maintains security, Iris who develops culture and entertainment, or Nightingale who is responsible for construction?

Depending on which family you belong to, your experience may be a little different… If you are the leader of Alfalfa, then it is expected that you will use finances as your leverage against Sunday's leadership, such as refusing to pass some reimbursements. Of course, those are non-essential expenses… but they are quite troublesome, because those are the activities Mr. Sunday wants to organize. If you're a Bloodhound, you can expect to show him your fangs, taunt him, and quietly frame him. If you were Iris, you might make some promotional videos of your own and use some subtle ways to disparage Sunday, knowing that all negative press is banned in Penacony. If you are Nightingale, then you will find some excuse to pause the construct, especially those designs that Mr. Sunday likes.

But no matter which family you are the leader of, you do not hide your hostility and provocation towards Sunday. You were tired of the mask of hypocrisy on his face. He hindered you from becoming the leader and representative of The Family! You repeatedly framed him with conspiracy, sneered in his face, and pushed the atmosphere in the conference room to be tense. Some members have reminded you that there should never be conflicts or disputes among family members. Well, of course you don't want to argue with Mr. Sunday, so you reply perfunctorily. The teachings of Lord Xipe are in our hearts and we just communicate.

Sunday. You feel like he's actually the one adding fuel to the fire. He always stares at you with a kind of pity, condescension, and a perfect smile, as if you are making trouble unreasonably. "Praying for you," he said. "The anger and arrogance in your heart will only serve as thorns to stab you. It is important to learn to bow your head reverently and humbly."

You want to roll your eyes. Of course you believe in Xipe, but you don't want to be in the same family as Sunday. Feeling that there is some strange and terrifying grand truth behind that flawless mask, but you don't want to understand it at all. To live in harmony with such a guy? Maybe it could happen in a few hundred years.

Again. You used some conspiracy to destroy Sunday's reputation. This time… it almost worked, just a little bit. You are not discouraged. You tilt your head in mock innocence and prepare to leave his office. But this time…it seems different. He did not say those admonishing and decent words to you. The sunlight slanted onto the colored glass, and the halo behind it almost made his whole person soft and decent.

"You know, I never like to use strong tactics. Now I know where the problem lies." There was even a faint smile on Sunday's face. "You need to show some proper respect and deference, and you're just one family away from that."

"What are you talking about again?" You frowned, but you couldn't move when you wanted to say the next word. Panic grips your heart. A burst of cheerful and moving tones enter your mind, like a sequenced program. "Come to me." This sentence seems to be singing. You don't know if it's an auditory hallucination or what.

Your body obeyed uncontrollably, and slowly walked to him and knelt down. Get away from him!! Get down on your knees. You met his gaze pitifully and weakly, putting on an expression you didn't normally have. "I'm sorry," you heard yourself apologize. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Sunday. I've been so mean to you."

What are you doing?

"I will serve you with love... my husband." Your hands rested obediently on his knees, like a puppy. You already want to slap yourself. What nonsense are you talking about? "I realize that I am too bossy all the time. Please give me a chance to make it up to you..."

You carefully unzipped his pants and stroked and rubbed his warm cock with your hands. That- what is that- so awful- why is it so hard and long, the head of the cock is standing in front of your face, standing menacingly... A thin mist surrounds your tears. Then you lowered your head submissively and tried your best to take it all in, but it was already pressed against your throat before it was even halfway through. A feeling of nausea, but you still try to do the best you can for your husband.

(The muffled gurgling sounds, the saliva and tears.)

After your wet mouth felt sore, you finally had him gently pull your hair. You wanted to scream, curse him. This thought is like roaring in the wind, but you say. "Isn't this good enough? Please…" Before you could finish, those white thick creams covered your face. "Ah…"

"No. You're doing great. " Sunday caressed your face dotingly, even though your face was now shrouded in humiliation. "We're going to have two beautiful babies. I look forward to seeing you do this every day."

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader

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specialagentlokitty · 7 months

Text

Hotch x reader - not so secret

Hello, I hope it's not too much to ask. Could you possibly do a Hotch x BAU!reader, where they get caught (nothing spicy tho, if that makes sense) in his office by his team. - Anon💜

Slipping into the office, you closed the door quietly behind you and grinned a little as you turned around.

“Didn’t I tell you to take the day off?” Hotch asked.

“Well, yeah, but I was bored.”

Hotch hummed a little, closing the file on his desk.

“You haven’t had a proper day off in weeks.”

“Neither have you.” You countered.

Hotch chuckled a little bit, standing up and he closed the blinds, walking over to you and he brushed his knuckles along your cheek.

He leant down, pressing his lips to your forehead, and you closed your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” He whispered.

“Just take a small break Aaron, before you overwork yourself…”

Hotch smiled softly at you, running a thumb along your cheek.

“Alright, a small break. Now show me what’s in your pockets.”

You walked over to his desk, reaching into the pockets of your jacket you pulled out a cup of coffee, setting it down, then you reached into the other pocket, pulling out another cup.

“(Y/N), darling, I love you, but I’ve told you to stop putting coffee cups in your pockets.”

“Ha, jokes on you aaron I have more.”

You unzipped your jacket, reaching into the inside pockets to pull out a bag, and Hotch walked over, looking inside of it.

“Okay, so now you’re carrying a bag of doughnuts?”

You grinned and him and Hotch placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you around and reached into your other pocket, pulling some candy bars out.

“Snacks?”

“I plan on staying so suck it up.”

He chuckled again, holding the back of your jacket so you could take it off and he hung it up with his own before walking back over.

Hotch placed his hands on your waist, and you cradled his face between your hands, letting him lean into your touch.

The moment your hands held his face he immediately relaxed, letting out a sigh of content.

“You need to take care of yourself too… I’m worried about how hard you work…” you whispered.

“I know… I know I’m sorry…”

Hotch leant down, brushing his lips against yours in the ghost of a kiss.

He wasn’t always one for initiating physical contact, sometimes he over thought, and so you leant forward to kiss him.

You moved a hand to the back of his head, playing with the hairs in the base of his neck, and he smiled into the kiss.

He pulled away only slightly.

You frowned a little bit.

“They’ll catch us out eventually..” he whispered.

You shrugged a little bit, placing your hand on the back of his head.

“I don’t care…”

This made him chuckle a little bit and lean back down to give you another kiss before he finally pulled away fully.

Hotch picked up your coffee cup, handing it to you, and picked up his own, sitting down in front of his desk.

You sat down with him, resting your head in his lap as you looked up at him, setting your coffee down in favour for holding his hand in yours instead.

You held your hand in the air, staring up at your conjoined fingers.

“So, have you thought anymore about the weekend?” He asked.

“You mean going away?”

He hummed a little, nodding his head.

“Yeah, what do you think about it? You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to, Jack is as begging me all last night to ask you again.”

You laughed softly, resting both your hands on your stomach.

Hotch set his coffee down, bringing his other hand up to run his hand over your hair.

“I think it sounds pretty cool, I loved camping when I was a kid, my dad taught me everything I know.”

“So, does that mean you can pass your well rounded knowledge of camping down to Jack ready for his trip next month?” He grinned a little.

You laughed softly, bringing his hand up so you could kiss the back of his hand.

“Yes dear, I will pass my camping wisdom on to your son and teach him all he needs to know.”

Hotch grinned a little, leaning down and you met him halfway so you could kiss him.

“You’re a lifesaver…” he whispered.

“I’m just that great.” You beamed.

He chuckled again, leaning down to kiss you once more, and his office door was opened.

You tilted tour head back, and he looked up, you grinned a little bit while he just stared at Garcia.

“Garcia don’t do it.” He warned.

She squealed a little bit, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Garcia?” You asked.

“I’m sorry I can’t! Oh this is so juicy!” She equaled.

“Garcia!” You both yelled.

It was too late because she was already running down the stairs and you snickered a little, resting your head back on Hotch’s lap.

He sighed, but let out a small chuckle.

“Guess times up on keeping this hidden.”

You hummed a little, sitting up and turning around to face him.

“Is it really so bad?”

“No, it isn’t. I’m happy to know that they all know, but you’re answering all the questions.”

“Is that really a wise idea Aaron?” Rossi asked.

You and Hotch stood up, turning to the faces of the grinning team who were blocking the exit.

“You’re both going to answer all our questions.” Derek smirked.

“Interrogation time you two, sit.” Emily said.

You and Hotch sat down at his desk, you in his chair while he sat on the desk in front of you.

You knew they weren’t going until you two had answered all their questions, you were both going to be there for a while

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #Aaron Hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #Aaron Hotchner imagine #Hotch #Hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #Hotch imagine

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deathbxnny · 17 days

Note

Jing Yuan, blade, & Bailu with platonic older!Reader that’s like Xianyun. Like they had a similar relationship that Xianyun, Shenhe, & Ganyu have with Jing & Blade and with Bailu it’s basically Xianyun and Yaoyao.

(Aka mother mothering)

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Omg I absolutely love this ask Anon, it's so cute! Thank you for the great request and I hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, older parent figure reader, angst, fluff, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》BAILU

Bailu gets herself in trouble rather often. Whether it be through slacking off her duties or just running off into unexpected situations, she's constantly getting into something. Hence why you are always forced to get her out of it one way or another. Despite your rather arrogant and know-it-all behavior, your love and care for Bailu made it hard for you to stay angry with her for long. With that said, you usually take on the responsibility of her chaos and lecture her in your own way later on.

You definitely give her lessons and teach her about the world in a more proper manner, even if she hates your lectures and often claims that they are "boring" adult things. But she enjoys watching you tinker away at your newest inventions, especially when you allow her to help as well.

She at times finds your overbearing nature a bit suffocating, but she also believes that you're the only grown up that does truly understand her. You treat her with respect and praise her intelligence, something she appreciates greatly. She may not always see eye to eye with you, but she knows that you'll always be there for her if things go south.

》BLADE

Blade was a young boy when he was first taken into your care. He was loud and proud, always the one to believe that his judgments and choices were correct even if they weren't. He saw your care as a hassle at times, especially as your overbearing nature would often get "into his way". But over a short amount of time, he quickly learned that if anything, you were the only one who truly understood his ways.

With that said, your absence after he was mara-struck left a hole in him that he didn't like to admit he had. You used to take care of him, brush his hair, patch up his injuries from training, feed him delicious food. He would fall asleep to the sound of you tinkering away through the night, always so focused on your projects, yet would gently tuck him in every time beforehand.

You loved him as your own. You truly did. And that left him wondering what you'd think of him now. He wasn't the same boy anymore. He was a sick man now, plagued by an incurable sickness that made him seek out the comfort of death rather than your own. And if he asked you to kill him, would you agree? His mind reeled with distant, distorted memories whilst he watched you go about your day on the Xianzhou from the shadows.

》JING YUAN

He appreciated you greatly, far more than he'd ever tell you or you'd know. You raised him into the man he was today, and Heaven's did you work hard for that. He knows that he wasn't always an easy child to deal with, especially not with his wild ambitions and higher aims for glory, but you still made it work even with your overbearing nature. Jing Yuan liked claiming that he would've never made it so far without you, even if you'd wave him off with a flustered shake of your head.

Whilst his master only taught him the art of the sword, you taught him the way of life. You fostered his potential. You saw the value in him and wanted him to exceed in more than war and carnage. Just like your many cherished inventions, he too saw himself as one of them, your favorite one, in fact. You put him through all kinds of lessons, made him into an intelligent young man who questioned everything around him. You wanted him to do good, to do great, and to help people instead of hurting them. And you were so proud when he did exactly that.

With that said, he definitely gets embarrassed whenever you happily tell others about more troublesome parts of his youth so lovingly. He understands your sentiments and chuckles at the memories with you, glad to know that he'll always be yours even as a grown man.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr bailu #hsr bailu x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #blade x reader #blade #bailu #bailu x reader

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benedictscanvas · 9 months

Text

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes.

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso x reader

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bodybahng · 2 months

Text

the way you are

masterlist

word count: 1.1k

pairing: bang chan x gender neautral reader

warnings: insecure chan, pet names (baby, angel), curly haired reader

summary: chan finally gives in and lets you help him take care of his natural hair

a/n: i saw someone posting about this request and thought i’d give it a try <3 i have curly hair as well but i’m not the best at taking care of it so i’m sorry if i messed anything up ;–; anyway, i hope you guys enjoy it! :)

if you are a minor or an ageless blog and interact with my content, you will be blocked.

having curly hair was something chan always struggled with — he didn’t know how to style it or take proper care of it, always opting to have it straightened instead.

he barely even thought about wearing it natural until you came along. your hair was even curlier than his, having accepted your texture and keeping it as healthy as you could most of the time.

chan had been a bit hesitant the first time you brought up helping and teaching him to do the same, saying how it was too much work and it wasn’t worth the effort. but he couldn’t help but wonder if his insecurity could go away, if it was possible to get his hair to look as beautiful as yours.

“baby?” you called from your spot on the bed as you saw that he was just staring at himself in the mirror quietly. “everything okay?”

the biggest sigh left his lips, he knew you already had this discussion a few times, but he couldn’t keep things from you. “i’m just feeling weird about my appearance again. well, mainly just my hair.”

you placed the book you were reading on your nightstand and walked over to hug him from behind, eyes meeting his on the mirror.

“do you want me to take care of it for you?” you offered softly, lips pressing a faint kiss to his neck. “if you let me, at least you’ll know how you feel and if you’d like to start managing it better. how about that?”

maybe he was too tired to deny you after the long day he’d had at work or maybe he was finally opening up to the idea. either way, he found himself nodding, and a grin spread on your face.

“i swear it’ll be relaxing!” you promised, taking his hand in yours and bringing him to your shared bathroom. he watched with a small smile on his lips as you grabbed a few bottles from your hair care shelf, knowing exactly which products to use on him.

“so walk me through it?” he asked, now a little more excited to learn something new that could potentially make him feel better.

“firstly, since you haven’t showered yet, we’re gonna start with a hair oil. this will help to add moisture to your curls,” you explained, opening the cap and squeezing the right amount into your palm. “i’m gonna heat it up in my hands and apply evenly all over your hair.”

he nodded, body relaxing at the sweet smell of the product hitting his nose. he closed his eyes as you put it on his strands, completely taken over by tranquility.

“okay, it’s done!” you wash your hands with soap to get the excess off. “now we wait at least an hour.”

“what?” he asked confused.

“yeah, this is a pre-shower thing. we can eat dinner in the meantime and then i’ll continue after you wash it.”

“okay…” his hesitation was back, but he knew he couldn’t go back on his word.

after eating a full fancy meal of your favourite flavour of instant ramen, he went to shower as you tidied up the kitchen. chan had insisted on doing it with you, but you ushered him to the bathroom with a shake of your head.

you both got done at the same time, and he brought the products you had picked to the living room, placing them on the coffee table.

“hi, baby,” you greeted with a kiss. “you smell so good.”

“thank you, angel. can we watch watch something as you finish doing your magic?” his voice was filled with tiredness, the water doing wonders to relax his whole body as the evening grew darker.

“of course,” you replied, smiling as he sat down in front of the couch and patted the cushion behind him for you to sit on.

you grabbed a microfibre towel on the linen closet and sat on the couch behind him, your legs open on either side of his body.

“always use a different towel for you hair, a microfibre one so it doesn’t create friction and make your hair all frizzy.” you softly patted his hair to dry it a little bit before grabbing another small bottle and collecting the product on your hand. “now i’m gonna apply a curl cream to add shine and define your curls.”

“mhm,” he hummed, attention focused on your words even if his eyes were on the movie he had put on.

“i’m gonna gently comb through your hair as well to detangle it, but it has to be done carefully because wet hair is more fragile.”

he nodded, sighing happily again when he felt your fingers working on his hair. it didn’t take long for you to finish, gently scrunching his hair a few times to help activate his curls.

“now, for the last step, i’ll put in a hair mask that helps keeps the moisture in, as well as contain the frizz we usually get. it also helps for your curls to not have that crunchy feeling to them, you know?”

“yeah, i remember when you told me to feel yours hair once when you forgot to do that.” he laughed, the memory making his dimples show as he turned his head slightly toward you.

“exactly.“ you chuckled, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss. then, you picked up the last item, finishing off his hair with it. “we’re done!”

chan got up to sit beside you, grinning as you unlocked your phone and clicked on the camera so he could admire your work.

“your hair is still humid, but i’m out of heat protection product so i won’t blow dry your hair right now. it’ll look fuller in a couple hours but you can already tell they’re looking gorgeous!” the smile never left your lips as your gaze switched from his hair to his image on the screen.

his heart tugged in his chest at you being the best partner he could ask for. he couldn’t believe he was starting to see how, with the correct treatment and attention, he would start at least liking his natural look a bit more. all because of you.

“i love you, baby. thank you so much,” he said, grabbing your neck and pulling in to kiss you properly. “i might grow to like it… if you keep helping me, of course.”

his smirk made you roll your eyes, feeling your heart speeding up with love even after months of dating.

“if it depends on me, you’ll never see a straightener ever again. i love you just the way you are, my channie.”

#louie writes #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader

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darlingdekarios · 1 year

Text

prūmia hen zaldrīzes.

"heart of the dragon."

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 8,317 content: Prince Aemond Targaryen x f!Lannister!reader, reader is a Lannister but is not given a specific description, Aemond is so salty and petty, arranged marriage, infidelity, smut [v fingering, f receiving oral, unprotected p in v, creampie], kinks [biting, scratching, breeding]

when he is forced to watch his twin flame marry his brother, Aemond finds a solution for coping other than burning it all to the ground.

King’s Landing, 120 AC

“I’m sorry for your eye, Prince Aemond,” you whispered, your voice quiet and sincere as the boy you’d spent so many years of your childhood with avoided your gaze with the perfect eye he still had. “I came as soon as I was told what happened.”

All he could muster was a firm nod, the sweet boy you often encountered now tucked away inside crushing self-consciousness as he sat before you. Still, despite his unease at his bandaged face, he found it within himself to remark the pride he felt for himself. “I lost an eye but gained a dragon. I would make the trade again.”

You had to smile at his subtle insistence to impress you, to cover the aura of dread he seemed to be exuding. “A worthy trade indeed, my prince.”

His good eye finally found your face, his harsh resolve fading at the softness that covered your features. Only months younger than Aemond and the sole daughter of Lord Lannister, you had spent much of your childhood in the Red Keep beside the Targaryen children. With your father’s place at Viserys’ Court, you spent more time at the Capital than within the walls of Casterly Rock, and while Helaena had always been a wonderful friend, it was Aemond you often found yourself beside. Now, at the darkest night in his life, it would be no different, and the gratitude shown through his features. He could never hide his truest self from you.

“My face doesn’t make you want to scream?” he questioned, the anger at his own mutilation doing wonders at hiding the genuine concern he felt at how you’d respond to his new appearance – even as a child, Aemond always basked in your approval.

“Only because you must be in pain,” you reassured, your soft voice sincere in ways no one else ever was with him. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, almost as if he was waiting for you to laugh, so used to being on the receiving end of a joke these days but was met only with your kindness as your warm hand covered his own. With the subtlest of squeezes, you quieted your voice to barely above a whisper. “I shall put out Lucerys’ eye for your next name day.”

For the first time since the incident Aemond felt his lips curve into a light smile, anxiety’s grasp on his heart lightening. “Viserys says Lord Strong is not to be hurt,” he remarked, the distaste for his father’s decision and forsaking of his own son shining through his voice. “It is an embarrassment. It is shameful. I will have to sit here and have my bandages changed daily by…”

“Me,” you offered, your voice earnest and hopeful. If it would not cause him pain his eyebrows would have pulled together in visible bewilderment – why anyone would offer to see him in the state he was in was beyond him. You offered a gentle smile and gave his hand another squeeze, repeating your offer to help him understand. “I will have the Maester teach me the proper way tomorrow, and then I will do it for you, Aemond.”

It would both confuse and comfort Aemond every day for the coming months when you found your way to his door promptly, gentle hands providing a better, more caring bandaging than anyone else had offered.

King’s Landing, 123 AC

“He is insufferable,” Aemond gritted through his teeth, his jaw popping in irritation as he fought to remain composed before you. You had seen him in much worse states than this in your younger years when he had less of a cool control over his emotions, but it had been quite some time since you had heard this tone behind his words. “Laughing at me because I don’t wish to bed whores like he does.”

“He is only jealous because he has to pay people to like him, my Prince,” you spoke, coming to sit beside him before his fireplace. His good eye met your gaze, the smallest bit of his frustration dissipating under your gentle expression.

The years that had passed since he had lost his eye had only pulled the two of you closer together, your own mother having passed due to fever. Pained by the resemblance you bore to your mother, your father had all but abandoned you at the Red Keep – any time apart from one another was due to Aemond’s absence, not your own. In a world where both of you found backs turned to you, you always found one another – the familiarity so comforting it was impossible to give up.

“Even still, my lady – his words have point,” he spoke, falling into the sweetness you presented him with. Resting your hand on top of his between the two of you, you held onto his every word – ever the one to make him feel important and desired. “I am thirteen and, according to Aegon, I’m hardly even a man because I won’t let one of his whores kiss me.”

The silence lingered as you soaked in his words, the crackling of the fireplace lulling you into a comfortable state. With his hand beneath yours you were once again reminded how warm Aemond was, and how it always seemed to invite you closer whether you were conscious of it or not. “Is it truly so important to have been kissed?”

“I care more for other things,” he stated simply, while inside his mind he found no calm. “But I do wish to have a reason to quiet him.”

A nod confirmed your understanding, a quiet hum leaving your lips in approval. Without much more than a minute of thought you leaned across to him, pressing your lips to his in a chaste, delicate and inexperienced kiss. Aemond, always quick to action, found for the first time in a long time he was caught off guard, frozen to his place as you gifted him (and yourself) his first kiss.

The next time Aegon taunted his younger brother for having not been kissed over dinner, Aemond was proud to report that he had, in fact. Despite the queen turning her head to analyze her son’s proud expression, she hadn’t missed the redness to your cheeks or the quick giggle you had to silence. Though she very easily could have, Alicent Hightower kept the kiss a shared secret – even from the two of you.

King’s Landing, Winter 128 AC

Lowering your cloak’s hood and taking a step into the darkness you found yourself being pushed toward the stone wall, familiar hands grasping your shoulders. As you turned your gaze upward to take in the sight of his shining blue eye and eye patch you found the harshness of his expression.

“What are you doing? Have you lost all sanity?” he questioned, leaning his face closer to yours. Now that he was a teenager, he had begun to tower over you, his height serving an obvious intimidation advantage.

“I wanted to see you so I…I snuck through the castle and the city to here, and I thought…I’d find you down here,” you explained, your rationale doing nothing to soothe his pounding heart. “I’ve often wondered what the lower parts of the dragon pit were like.”

“I have heard curiosity often kills the cat,” he replied, one of his hands leaving your shoulder to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against the expanse of your cheek. “Dovodedha kēlītsos…this is no place for you.”

It was impossible not to lean into his hand more, embracing the warmth you so often craved these days. As Aemond grew older and responsibility loomed on his head, his hours training and hunting and flying grew, time away from you being a cruel result of that. And for your part, you had been returned to Casterly Rock a year prior due to your father wishing to keep you closer again, wishing to fend off those who sought betrothal to you, remarking often that none of them were good enough for his daughter. The most contact you’d received from your closest companion was through raven or middleman, the occasional visit atop Vhagar from him – when he had the time.

The moment you’d arrived in King’s Landing you’d wanted to see Aemond. And truth be told, if he had known of your arrival beforehand, there would have been nothing to keep him from greeting you. Your intention to surprise him by not giving warning of your visit had backfired, but Helaena had rescued the day by telling you where to find her brother. This close you could see the slick sweat to his brow, the subtle flare to his nostrils that signified his annoyance.

It was a secondary feeling – what he truly felt was concern.

“And yet I am still alive before you, unharmed, my Prince,” you taunted, your voice low and smooth and brimming with joy at being so near to him again. His hand on your cheek slid further, fingers entangling in your hair gently to refamiliarize himself with the texture.

“Only because I found you first, kēlītsos.”

“I wanted to be found.”

The smallest smile formed on his lips, a gentle shake to his head further proving his amusement. “I have missed you and your recklessness. You truly have the bravery of a lion, though I doubt you have the nine lives.”

His smile was returned by your own, your hands finding way to either side of his neck delicately. “I have missed you as well, Aemond,” you spoke quietly, fingernails grazing his skin lightly on the back of his neck and creating goosebumps across his skin.

Strong emotions rushing through him paired with the hormones of a teenager had him claiming your lips in a bruising kiss next, critical words lost to him as he lost himself in your features. This time, neither of you were caught off guard, the kiss returned immediately and met with a hum of approval. His grip on your hair tightened slightly as his tongue sought a taste of your lips, his own hum vibrating in his chest as your fingers found way to his hair as well.

As you allowed your jaw to relax and his tongue to enter your mouth his free hand grasped your hip, pulling your waist forward and into his, so he could grind his hardening cock into you, greedily swallowing the moan it pulled from you. Recognizing the danger that going further posed he was the one to reluctantly break the hungry kiss, and he who resisted kissing you again as he escorted you to the Red Keep.

If he had known taking you back to those who awaited you meant hearing his mother announce you were to marry Aegon, he would have fled with you atop Vhagar. Despite his best efforts, his family was still finding new ways to play jokes on him. This was the cruelest yet.

King’s Landing, Spring 129 AC

The months that followed were a harsh realization of your new reality.

Ever since, that day had been the first thought to your mind in the morning and the thing that you cried yourself to sleep over every night. Though Alicent Hightower’s announcement that the King had decided to honor tradition and name his eldest son the true heir to the crown (something you felt had to do with how heavily sedated and agreeable he was, not that you’d voice that opinion to any other than Aemond), it was the second part of her speech that ripped your heart from your chest. You would wed her eldest son and unify the crown and the Lannisters, a truly monumental occasion for the realm.

The words were those of two fathers – hers and your own – plotted with only greed in their hearts. Alicent did not relish in passing the news, and dreaded what it would do to her son, and yet that did not stop her from doing so. While you had attempted to make your objection to the match known, your words had no weight, and your future was decided behind your back. Aemond had returned to the Dragon Pit and did not return to the Red Keep for days. Even when he had returned, he would avoid you for the first time in your lives.

It took only months for the betrothal to move forward. With King Viserys the Peaceful dead by Spring and the Conqueror’s crown placed upon Aegon’s head, it become imperative to demonstrate to the people of Westeros that their new King was worthy of the throne his father had bestowed on him. This of course meant marrying a woman from a highly regarded family and bringing children into his bloodline (not that he hadn’t already).

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wi-“

The septon’s words were cut short by the familiar bellow of a creature far older than any other present, the familiar flap of impossibly large wings shooting a gust of wind directly over your wedding ceremony. The Queen of All Dragons landed with a harsh quake to the ground, your hand shooting out to the archway over you to steady yourself, Helaena rushing forward to assist you.

“You’re late to your own brother’s wedding, Aemond,” Alicent Hightower hissed through her teeth, attempting to maintain the smile she had plastered on her face as she watched her eldest son ignore the opportunity to assist his betrothed.

“Truthfully, mother, you should be lucky I am here at all,” the one-eyed prince replied, the sincerity behind his words unsurprising. “It is blasphemous. The one person in this world I truly care for, that I have no obligation to do so, and you stick her with my cunt of a brother.”

“Your words are treason, Aemond. Aegon is your king now,” she chastised, her glare fixating on him momentarily with the brief turn of her head.

“Apologies, mother – my cunt of a king,” he replied, stepping backward and away from further ridicule. His step was matched by his mother – one of two people he could never seem to hide from.

“Aemond…I know this is difficult for you, my sweet boy,” she began, her voice soft and diplomatic. A couple of years younger and he may have faltered, but not now. Not when he faced a waking nightmare before him. “I do hope that one day when you find a suitable wife for yourself, you will understand the decision we’ve made.”

“I will not find a suitable wife and I will not marry,” came his reply, voice unwavering and absolute. “If I am not to marry her, I am not to marry at all.”

“I have faith that you will see reason and change your mind.”

Aemond turned his face back to his mother, jaw popping in frustration as he did so. It was subtle, anyone unfamiliar with the prince would not notice the movement – his own mother did, of course. “The woman standing across from Aegon sat beside me while every stitch on my face was opened, the hole where my eye used to be pried apart, and a sapphire inserted into it. She never released my hand, she never looked away. And now you marry her to someone who can’t tell his own hand from a whore.”

“Be that as it may, it is done,” the former queen continued, the remorse in her voice showing itself slightly. She knew, all too well, what it was like to lose love because of duty. “We may talk about this more later, sweet boy.”

“There is no need, mother. As you say,” he continued, placing his arms behind his back carefully. “It is done.”

The remainder of the ceremony went without additional surprise. Aemond desperately wished to be free of this obligation, his annoyance showcased on his face regardless of whose eyes may have caught glimpse of him. His only comfort came from the look that remained on your face – solemn, unimpressed, unchanging; even when Aegon had kissed you. It was the first time Aemond had seen so very little of a reaction to one of his brother’s kisses, and the display of indifference both satisfied something deep with Aemond and caused his stomach to churn. Your wedding day should have been so much better than this – you deserved so much better than this, than Aegon.

It was a relief to his unsettled stomach when he saw you alone on a balcony during the feast to celebrate you – to celebrate the marriage and the new queen. Still, even with the food, the wine, and the gifts, Aemond had not seen your lips curl to a smile once the entire day. Though he wasn’t entirely certain he could contain himself from doing something foolish by claiming this moment of your attention, he opted to throw that caution to the wind. You were his to be foolish with.

He sauntered toward you with hands behind his back still, pleased when you turned as he approached within an arm’s length of you. For the first time all day he watched as you rivaled the full moon behind you with a smile.

“My Prince,” you greeted, eyes flashing up at him in profound appreciation.

“Your Grace,” he bowed his head slightly in return, a small smirk flashing on his features as he peered up at you between his lashes. He’d worn the eye patch you’d specifically had crafted for him in Lannisport – you had to wonder if it was an intentional show of your bond or not. He caught the way your eyes lingered, filled with uncertainty. Aemond was the first to put his swarming thoughts to spoken word.

“This should be our wedding day, kēlītsos,” he began, his eye burning into yours as he took a step closer – another and it may be considered indecent. “I wonder if that fact haunts you as it does me.”

Being this close to him always set your body alight, the heat blazing beneath every inch of your skin and begging for the coolness that accompanied his lips. “Every moment,” you replied, your voice quiet and so intentionally only for him. “You should have taken me across the sea on Vhagar where no one would follow or find us.”

The corners of his mouth barely twitched upward in a smile – the first you’d seen from him in months – your words almost pulling a growl from his chest. One of his gloved hands twitched toward yours, his fingers lightly grazing against your wrist, tempting him to pull you closer and closer until no one, not even his brother, could take you away from him. It was foolish to speak this way so openly with so many potential listeners nearby, but neither of you truly cared. “It may happen still.”

“Is this your way of telling me you love me, Prince Aemond? It is not immensely traditional, I’m afraid,” you taunted, eyes finding his face again and appreciating his features. “Though, I suppose it is your rebellious heart that has won my love, as well.”

“Sister,” Helaena greeted as she interrupted the moment between the two of you, his expression immediately hardening as he withdrew his hand from your wrist again. “I wish to walk in the garden with you before you retire to bed. Would you join me?”

With a final longing glance you departed, joining your sister-in-law for one of her nightly walks, growing ever-more dread-filled as the time passed and your return to your wedding duties continued. Soon enough, you thought, Aegon would be crawling between your legs, no doubt smelling like wine and dirt and dragons in the least endearing of ways. The thought made your stomach twist into knots more and more until the Princess had walked you back to your bedchamber, entering the warm room with you.

“The dragon sings at the moon’s brightest hour.”

She departed then, leaving you alone with a puzzled look on your face as multiple handmaidens joined you to remove the elegant gown that weighed you down, allow you to bathe, and help you into night clothes, removing your hair from the intricate style to lay loose. They put more wood on the fire and withdrew, remarking that one of the girls, Marleya, would be around should you need her. It was ironic to know that your husband regularly found himself buried in her, when he was failing to fulfill his obligation to you on your wedding night. Between the walk and the routine the handmaidens had carried out, hours had passed, and while you still felt the looming dread that Aegon may call on you, it had twisted into something far more pathetic. Soon you were sat on the open window overlooking the city, fixing your eyes to the sky with a forlorn expression covering your face as you envied what it would feel like to be able to fly away at any moment.

You were not the only one in the Red Keep troubled by your thoughts, as Aemond found himself wandering the halls since you had departed from him. Though he tried to think of something else, anything else, he could not prevent his thoughts from wandering back to his brother likely consummating his marriage, claiming something from you he had no right possessing. It made him sick to think of the way Aegon would treat you for the first time, almost sick enough to manifest fully.

He hadn’t planned to walk past Aegon’s room, and yet that’s exactly where his feet carried him shortly after 11, the familiar halls as he approached causing him to draw in deeper, steadier breaths, preparing himself for whatever he may hear. As he rounded the final corner he was greeted with the sight of his stumbling, drunken older brother holding the door to his bedchamber open for one…two…three…four…working women from King’s Landing, their quiet giggles being shushed by him until they were all nestled inside with him close behind. When the door closed with a heavy thud, Aemond released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.

If Aegon was partaking in his usual activities, that meant you were alone. And while it pleased him to know his brother had not pulled you into his bed just yet, it also made the anger burn inside of him. This was, after all, your wedding night and you had looked so beautiful in his house colors – and now you were alone.

It was approaching the middle of the night when your thoughts were interrupted.

“Your Grace,” came the voice of Marleya. She was quiet, timid – not wanting to interrupt the state she knew you were in but unable to refuse what had been asked of her. “Apologies for the interruption. Prince Aemond has come to request a word with you, my Queen.”

When you heard the light fall of his boots against the stone floor you inhaled a deep breath, trying to steady your breathing so you could talk without giving away your emotional state. Although you wanted to seek the comfort you had so often found in his face you kept your eyes forward, back to him as you continued to look at the night sky. When his footsteps silenced relatively close behind your position you inhaled another deep breath to prepare yourself for whatever additional torment was fated for your night.

“Your Grace,” came his quiet timbre, the moniker pulling a sigh from you. Hearing anything but your name from him sounded so foreign – so wrong.

“Yes, Prince Aemond,” you managed in response, mentally thanking yourself for the composure you kept over your words.

“I have come to pass news of your…good husband,” he began, his words laced with venom and disgust. Judging by his words, your handmaiden had lingered in the bedchamber, so you were not alone with another man – improper indeed on your wedding night. “I feel it best if the information is delivered between family.”

You briefly turned your head to direct a glance at the girl, who was not much younger than you, offering a light smile. “Thank you, Marleya. I am in safe hands with my…brother. You may retire for the night.”

The girl nodded before exiting, closing the door to the bedchamber as she went. Aemond watched her go, confirmed the door was closed with a lingering glance before turning his eyes to the back of your head. You had returned your gaze to the stars twinkling above the sky, wondering how it would feel to be there – to be so very far away.

“I thought that your Grace should be informed that I have witnessed our King entering his own bedchamber not long ago,” he started, almost expecting you to turn to watch him speak. It was curious when you did not look in his face when he spoke. “He seemed to be quite full of alcohol. Not to worry, though, he had escorts to ensure his…satisfactory retirement for the night. You need not wait for his arrival here.” He watched as your shoulders lowered with the release of a shaky breath, the visible signification of your faltering anxiety.

“Is this all, Prince Aemond? You’ve come to remind me my good husband is a drunken whoremonger?” you questioned; harsh words softened by the meekness in your voice. Despite your insistence to keep your face from him and hide your tears, your voice had begun to shake – as had your shoulders. Aemond was familiar with both.

He stepped forward, the sound of his boots drawing nearer both sending your body alight and filling it with dread. When he stood just behind you his arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back against his chest as he had done so many times. You wondered if this would be the last. “What troubles you? I should think it is a comfort my brother will not summon you tonight,” he spoke lightly, lowering his head down to rest his chin atop your head.

“A woman’s wedding is supposed to be the greatest day of her life,” you began, forsaking strength in his arms and relying on him to support you. “And yet I feel like my life has been ripped away from me.”

“It is unfair, your Grace,” he began, his warmth radiating through you and settling into a familiar comfort deep within you that only he could bring. His voice was so soft, so sincere, so unlike it had been each time you had heard him speak in the last few months. “My brother is a fool to ignore such a beautiful bride. You were art brought to life in our house colors.”

You released another deep breath you didn’t fully realize you were holding, the relaxation in your torso allowing him to wrap his arms around you tighter. Even now you wore the Targaryen colors – a thin black night dress and an even longer, lighter red robe. Aemond wanted nothing more than to pin you against the wall like the art he viewed you as – even more now with your face free of additions and hair left loose. You raised onto your knees, turning simultaneously to plant yourself in his arms fully, chest pressed to his in an inherently indecent manner consider your new titles. Neither of you had ever cared for such.

You titled your head back to allow him a true look at your face – cheeks streaked with tear trails, bottom lip red and swollen from your incessant biting, and eyes red, glossy and puffy from undoubted hours of crying. Even under the despair in your eyes he could see the lingering hope, the love that burned for him hiding in the depths and screaming to break free. He raised one hand to cup your cheek in it, the cool leather coming against your warm cheek cueing a shiver up your spine.

Without giving you a chance to stop them more tears spilled over your cheeks, his glove soaking up the tears on one of your cheeks. Having spent so much time around Aemond in your life you knew what the subtle looks behind his remaining eye meant. That fact was doing nothing to help sedate the burning you felt for him as you met his gaze, facing the concern, the care and the longing he was harboring directly. The intensity caused your breath to catch in your throat.

“Īlē ñuhon, kēlītsos, [You were mine, little cat]” he sighed, leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eye. His perfect nose lightly brushed against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist tighter. He reveled in the way you melted to him, joining your form to his in a way that was so unique to the two of you. “I should have claimed you long ago.”

His thumb began to brush lightly against your cheek, the desire to free himself of his gloves and feel you again growing stronger. Your breath caught in your throat briefly before you found the word you sought in a language so different from your own, albeit hardly above a whisper. “Ñuhon.”

“Kessa, kēlītsos, [Yes, little cat]” he breathed, the tip of his nose kissing yours lightly. “Lions, like dragons, do not belong to people. We belong to ourselves. But you have always been mine, and I have always been yours.” He brushed your cheek again gently, his fingertips so uncharacteristically light as the fire behind his eyes burned into yours. “You may be his wife to the kingdom, but the gods know you are mine.”

You felt more tears spill over your lashes, a sigh falling from your lips as Aemond twisted his head barely, pressing his lips to one of your cheeks to kiss the tear away. You only melted into him further, nuzzling your face into his hand that still rested on your cheek. It was a crime to be certain, his next move – and yet there was nothing truly wrong with the way he turned his head again, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so soft it was nostalgic of the first you’d shared years ago now. Although you should have pulled away, or at the very least hesitated, you returned his kiss without second thought. When he spoke next his words were muffled by your lips.

“I came to do what my brother will not and give you a proper wedding night,” he began, pressing another kiss to your lips when his thought was complete. “If it is not your wish, stop me now. I will listen to your command – I will leave these walls and not speak of this again if you ask it.”

You almost hesitated, almost took a moment to consider your answer, but threw any caution to the wind by granting him another kiss – rougher, needier, more desperate and yet still softer than Aemond felt he’d ever deserve. He grasped you tighter, his fingertips indenting into the soft skin on your cheek as his other hand clutched the fine fabric on your lower back, holding you closer to him.

“I do love you, kēlītsos [little cat],” he muttered against your lips, unwilling to pull away but needing to say the words aloud nonetheless. “I have thought the words so many times now and never found it in myself to say them, though I should have before now.”

His hands left you to work on his own tunic, content with baring himself in some way to you first as he awaited your response. Your lips claimed his in another kiss before you found quiet words to whisper to him. “I have loved you for so long, Aemond, but he…he would kill me for this.”

“He wouldn’t dream of ordering harm to you with me to face.”

How long had he been thinking about this? Had he wanted to do this for years? Had he been considering taking you for months before Aegon could leading up to your wedding, or had something finally snapped in his mind today? Regardless of when it had happened – his mind was made up, and there was nothing that could be said to change his mind.

He discarded the thick black fabric from his torso to the floor, uncaring where it landed before he claimed your lips in another full kiss, his hands making busy with the thin tie around your waist. Craving the way he’d kissed you in the dragon pit only months ago you parted your lips for him, his tongue immediately staking claim on the warmth of your mouth. As he pushed the robe from your shoulders, he carefully placed the clothing on a surface close by, taking much more care in your belongings than his own. There was nothing worth doing so fast he couldn’t show you that he cared for you – deeply. The extra time would never be a bother with you.

He was thankful your night dress was thin and loose enough to slide down your shoulders carefully, his head bowing to press kisses down the top of one of your shoulders as he pushed the straps free, hands grasping your hips to pull you close. When the bare skin of your torsos met both of you released a sigh, Aemond tucking his head into your neck and holding you close for a moment, relishing in the warmth passing between the two of you. This close you could feel his heartbeat, and the raised skin of whatever wounds he’d found himself on the receiving end of already, so young in many ways and old in several more.

His lips started trailing up your neck, pulling a quiet gasp from you as your hands grasped his shoulders. He slid his hands to your lower back again to hold you as close as possible as his lips trailed lower, brushing over your collarbone. Aemond had been patient, and he could be for a while longer – as long as he got to feel as much of you as possible beneath his fingertips and lips.

He held you against him tightly, moving the two of you in front of the fireplace so he could see your body under the warm glow of the flames. As you followed his silent instruction your hands slid down his torso, eyes running over every inch of him hungrily as your fingers traced over the old scars you’d felt against you moments ago. He grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head backward so you would gaze up at him, and with your attention where he wanted it, he reached his other hand to cup one of your breasts, rubbing his thumb over your already hardened nipple gently. He sank to his knees in front of you slowly, covering you with feather-light kisses as he went, his every movement laced with intent as his kisses trailed to your hips.

Though the heat that spread throughout your body had created a fog that shrouded your mind, you found a moment of clarity. Reaching your hands to hold the sides of his face carefully and applying just enough pressure for him to respond you lifted him back up to you, sliding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder. You pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth before trailing them up the side of his face gently before brushing them, impossibly light and so full of love, across the lower part of the old scar that still brought him pain. The hand that still rested on his cheek slid to the back of his head, fingers dancing over the strap that secured the covering to his face.

“Kostilus [please],” you whispered gently, your quiet request filling his ears and pulling a gentle sigh from his lips. “I don’t wish for you to be hidden from me, Aemond.” It was the only time you were assertive with him, running your nose along his cheek to press a kiss beneath his ear. His breath caught in his throat, hands grasping at your waist as a quiet groan rumbled in his chest. He gave a firm nod, and you immediately pulled the patch free from his head, lying it carefully on the lounge next to you before whispering a quiet thank you.

“I see my sister has been teaching you to mind your manners in our ancestral tongue,” he purred, sliding one of his hands up your back to run his hand over your hair, encouraging you to look at him. The moment you tilted your head back for him he claimed your lips, only momentarily before he withdrew to give you a moment to run your eyes over his face appreciatively.

“Vhagar is the most fearsome dragon alive, and she wears many scars,” you cooed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the upper half of the scar on his face, your hand resting on his cheek to allow your thumb to brush over the bottom half. “The strongest dragons always do.”

While he wanted to claim your lips again in a kiss, he couldn’t hold himself back any further, lifting you into his arms to carry you to the bed as he gazed down into your face with an expression that melted further into love the longer it went on. He laid you in the bed with your head against the pillow before he crawled between your legs, encouraging your legs apart with the gentle caress of his hands. His lips followed his fingers on their path, soaking in the quiet mewls that he was already pulling from you. With your sex bared to him he could see your wet arousal leaking from your entrance, your thighs slick with the arousal he’d brought on.

He slid one of his hands higher up your thigh, a singular finger gathering some of the slick before he brought it to his face, popping the digit into his mouth with an appreciative hum. A wave of heat crashed through you accompanied by a gasp as your mouth fell open, the expression pulling a quiet chuckle from him as he lowered his head down, licking a stripe up the inside of your thigh with another low hum.

“Every inch of you is more beautiful than my mind could have done imagined,” he whispered into your skin before pressing a gentle kiss to your thigh. With one last glance to your face, he moved forward, running his tongue between your folds and grasping your thighs, holding you down slightly as you moaned for him. Wanton and greedy, he ran his tongue through your folds several more times before he could speak again. “I should throw you atop Vhagar now and flee so my brother may never taste you.”

With those final parting words, he dove into your awaiting sex, his tongue devouring you hungrily as the knowingly quiet symphony of your moans filled the bedchamber. He flicked the muscle over your swollen bundle of nerves, causing your hips to buck up slightly which only resulted in him grabbing you tighter, holding you against his face. Running his tongue downward again he dipped it inside your awaiting heat, groaning at the feeling.

Alternating between licks and sucks against your sensitive clit and fucking his tongue into you hastened the pressure building inside your lower half, your breaths becoming desperate as your thighs shook against his head. Feeling your walls flutter around his tongue he finally connected a thumb to your clit, rubbing it with the gentlest of circles as white-hot euphoria blinded your vision, his other hand reaching to clamp down over your mouth to stifle the scream that left your chest. Disconnecting his mouth from you, he continued his gentle movements with his thumb, his eyes gazing up to your face like he’d just discovered some fabled hidden treasure.

“I could stay here for hours feasting on you, beloved,” he cooed, leaning forward to lap up more of your nectar with a low groan in his chest.

“Please, Aemond…” you whined, already sensitive and satisfied and yet desperate for more.

“You want me to keep my head between your thighs, my Queen?” he pondered with that cocky, overly smug tone that always made you squeeze your thighs together. Another quiet whimper fell from your lips as you shook your head, breaths still desperate and mind still hazy from your orgasm.

“No, Aemond, I need you…please,” you began, shifting your hips against his hand to attempt for more pressure as his lips began to trail back up your body. He flattened his hand against your mound, allowing you to rub yourself on him – your desperation doing nothing to sedate his smirk. “Kostilus [please]. Don’t be cruel to me.”

His lips reached yours then, a gentle kiss carefully tucked into the corner of your mouth before he settled himself between your legs, leaning back on his haunches carefully. “Daor sir, gevie mēre [not yet, beautiful one],” he began, raking his eyes over your flushed figure beneath him in appreciation. “I have to open you up for me first.”

The hand that was still settled at your core dipped lower, one of his fingers teasing at your entrance in slow, tantalizing circles. When he’d pulled another moan from you and watched your face falter as you did, he slipped his index finger into your awaiting velvet channel. He felt your body tense at the intrusion, your walls clenching around his finger immediately. He wiggled it slightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth – more-so in concentration rather than disappointment.

“Lykirī,” he cooed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I cannot make you feel good if you don’t relax yourself for me, beloved.” You could only lean your forehead to his as you nodded, closing your eyes and inhaling in a deep breath. He withdrew the digit from you before thrusting it back in again slowly, the edges of his lips ticking upward as you released a quiet whimper. “That’s better.”

Within minutes he had relaxed you, his finger circling and wiggling inside of you with each thrust, pulling more moans from you as your body became accustomed to his movements. He added a second finger soon after, causing a gasp to fall from your lips and your hips to buck forward against his hand. Pressing another kiss to your lips he then trailed them lower again, sucking your swollen clit between his lips gently as he curled his fingers inside to rub against the rough patch behind your clit.

“A-Aemond…” you moaned, earning a groan from him as he then flicked his tongue against your clit, massaging it gently as he continued to wiggle his fingers against the spot deep within you that was causing your thighs to begin to shake again. When he began to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves again a second wave of euphoria washed over you, a rush of wetness covering his hand as he pleasured you through the orgasm.

Removing his fingers from you and chuckling quietly and the whimper you released from the loss, Aemond moved to stand beside the bed, working himself free of his pants which had begun to painfully restrict his throbbing cock. Once his member was free, he wrapped his fingers around it, stroking himself as he watched your breathing return to somewhat of a normal state, eyes roaming over your body appreciatively and the wetness that already covered your bed clothes.

When you opened your eyes again and turned your head to gaze up at him you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over. His free hand grasped one of yours gently, guiding it upward toward his cock in silent suggestion. When you wrapped your lithe fingers around his member he threw his head back in a moan, the noise turning to a low, rumbling growl in his chest as you mirrored his stroking movements from moments before.

Unable to deny his needs any longer he climbed back onto the bed between your legs, sighing at the loss when you removed your hand from him but appeasing himself by rubbing his cock against your core. Wrapping his own hand around himself again, he rubbed his leaking head between your folds to gather some slick against it. “Beg me again, my love. You sound so gorgeous when you beg for me.”

“Please, Aemond,” you breathed out, wrapping your legs around his waist in knowing anticipation. “Kostilus [please].”

He pushed into you slowly then, his thick cock sliding into your entrance and pulling an almost too loud cry from your lips, the protest silenced by his lips soon. His lips molded to yours as your hot channel took inch by inch of him, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he finally felt your tight walls embrace him. When he was fully sheathed inside you, he licked across the seam of your lips, stilling his waist as he kissed you deeply for several moments.

When your legs around his waist started to relax just a bit and your walls fluttered around him, he slowly withdrew from you before pushing his cock back in to the hilt, pulling away from the kiss to hear the moan that left your lips.

“So tight,” he breathed against your mouth quietly, beginning to repeat his slow and intentional thrusts. “I should have been enjoying your little cunt for years now.”

You could only whine at his words, too overstimulated and focused on how full you felt and the lingering pain of being stretched this way for the first time to form coherent words. His hair fell beautifully over his shoulders and brushed against your torso with his movements, a piece covering his eye from your view. When you lifted a hand to move the piece away from his face he smiled, turning his head to press his lips into your fingers before moving his kisses to your neck.

“Oh, the way you feel around me…” he groaned before pressing a kiss beneath your ear, his pace already picking up slightly. You were so tight and warm around him and he had wanted you for so long, the sheer feeling of finally being inside of you was not going to allow him a long session with you. There would, of course, be others, likely even in the same night – but for now he could only give in to the pleasure filling every cell in his body. “I’m going to come back here every night until I have filled your womb with my babe.”

You nearly moaned too loud again, your walls fluttering around him at his brazen, forbidden words. He lifted his head to gaze into your eyes again, leaning to press a kiss against your lips to assist you with muffling your cries as he picked up his pace more, grinding his hips into yours each time he’d gone as far as he could go. Though you were already feeling weak you managed to nod enough for him to register, your confirmation pulling a smile across his face.

“Oh, you like that, kēlītsos?” he questioned, giving another particularly slow and intentional thrust to massage his velvety head against the spot deep within you. You moaned his name quietly, a worthy award for his efforts. “You want me to empty my seed into you? Speak it.”

“Yes, Aemond,” you whimpered immediately, knowing he would require an answer, knowing he needed to feel that power over you. His pace picked up again as another growl ripped through his chest, the lewd sounds of your bodies joining together creating a dizzying symphony in the room that he would gladly listen to forever.

“We will create the perfect dragon,” he replied, letting his intentions be fully known on the chance you hadn’t understood yet. “Strong, and smart, and beautiful, and powerful…much better children than Aegon could hope to give you.”

You nodded your agreement, moving your lips against his slowly, almost cautiously in a kiss to silence another loud cry that came from his lips as he rocked against your cervix. One of his hands reached to grasp yours, lifting it above your head as he lowered his own to connect his mouth to one of your budded nipples, suckling at it with fervor in the hopes it would push you closer to the edge.

Your breaths soon became more desperate, legs shaking around his waist as the hand that wasn’t being held in his found way to the back of his head, your fingers lacing into his hair. He disconnected his mouth from your tit with a gentle bite to your nipple, an almost sinister smirk covering his features as you cried out for him again. “Will you release for me again, beloved? Find euphoria with me,” he almost begged, quickly adjusting his words to a simple instruction.

You nodded, vision going white again as he reconnected his mouth to yours, kissing you with more passion than he had thus far. With your walls clenching him tightly he found his own release, hot spurts of his cum painting your walls as a loud cry of his own ripped through his chest, thankful once again that your mouth swallowed most of the volume.

At the same time Aemond’s sound of pleasure filled the bedchamber the familiar cry of Sunfyre was heard above the castle, an interruption in the night sky no doubt caused by the new king taken a drunken flight to impress his chosen whores for the night. As Aemond released your mouth from his when his orgasm had finished, he leaned his head against your shoulder to speak through bated breaths.

“Perhaps he will fall from his dragon and become so injured I must rule in his stead.”

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