#fic: feather light | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cease-your-release · 1 year

Text

"To What Do I Owe This Pleasure, Papa?"

You are summoned to Papa Emeritus IV’s office, where a pregnant Copia awaits your attention, which you are more than happy to give him. (Fluff, 2,210)

Content warning(s): VERY light angst, mention of gender dysphoria, MPREG

I have such brain rot for pregnant Copia,,, wanna kiss his tummy,,,

As a wise someone on here once said: “I am a man who can get pregnant writing about men who get pregnant.”.

Also on AO3!

The tap of your leather shoes against the freshly polished tile floor of the ministry halls is striking and quick.

You were doing your usual duties, going about your job as normal, until the phone of your department rang. “Papa has asked for you.” Said to you the sister who answered it. To them, it may have seemed cause for concern. You knew better.

It wasn’t long at all before you reached the doors of his office, excitedly knocking at the wood. In response, you hear a voice equally as giddy call out for you to “Come in!”. You do, shutting the entrance behind you, and are met with the image of your partner, sitting behind his desk with a stupidly lovestruck grin on his face.

“Amore, what took you so long?” Copia asks with exaggerated distress, though the ruse doesn’t work as well when he can’t stop cheesing.

“It wasn’t even two minutes!” You respond with a laugh, making your way over to him. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Papa?”

He rolls his eyes and giggles. “Very funny…” His voice drips with sarcasm, turning his chair while you round the corner of the large desk.

And oh, what a sight it is.

His papal robes may hide it well enough, but to you it was unmistakable, especially in a seated position. When facing you, unobstructed by the table before him, the slight outline of his subtly rounded stomach was immediately in your focus. Copia is roughly 6 months along now, though it’s fairly difficult to tell when you cannot utilize the on-site medical professionals in the workplace, and getting an outside visit would not go unnoticed by one Sister Imperator. The others may have their suspicions about your relationship, but none were aware of his pregnancy, you weren’t even sure most of them knew of his ability to bear children. You estimated based on time frame and size, and kept telling yourselves that you would coordinate a day off to take a trip to the local clinic to see for sure. That had not come to fruition yet.

“It’s nothing too pressing, tesoro. Just that I- we… wanted to see you.” He answers your question, bringing a hand to rest atop the bump. That causes the jeweled fabric to shift, and accentuates the shape. You honestly can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not anymore.

“Ah, of course.” You say with a knowing smile. “Did they tell you that?” You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, which he hums happily at. One of your hands supports your weight on the armrest of the chair, the other settling over the one of his on his belly.

“Sì, they did! Bambino has been using me like a punching bag, and I could hear them calling for you. I told them ‘Mi dispiace, Bambino, Baba is hard at work, you’ll have to wait’, but…” He gestures to himself with the free hand. “You know how it is, eh?”

The two of you had thought of names by now, but nothing was truly settled on just yet, and you still didn’t know the sex of the baby. His solution was to simply call them “Baby”, like a temporary name, though you both preferred the way it sounded in his mother tongue.

You laugh at his reenactment, and nod in playful agreement. “I do know, Papa.” You say, sliding your hand down to the side of it. You go in a circular motion, a gentle caress. That earns a soft noise of appreciation from him.

“Will you ever tire of that?” Copia asks.

It was a little joke you had thought of shortly after the discovery. About a week in, you were trying your best to go about your work day like nothing was amiss, and you saw him in the hallway. A formal greeting, you bowed your head and said “Good afternoon, Papa.” and that was when it clicked. Later that night, in the safety (what little there was, anyway) of his bedroom, you revealed it to him. “Because you are Papa, and you will be a Papa!” You said. “Ahh, I see! That is very clever, amore.” He laughed along with you then, but now it was like a bad pun- and he liked those, so that meant something.

“Mm.. no, I don’t believe I will.” Is your answer to his question back in the present. He scoffs. “How are you feeling?” Your voice turns much more genuine, almost serious, and your expression reflects that. You could always be lighthearted, but the underlying worry never really subsided.

“I am… better, now that you are here with me.” He sighs, eyebrows pinching upward. His eyes meet yours, and you notice they suddenly seem much more tired than just a moment before. "Non è poi così male quando sei in giro..." Comes from him in a near whisper.

Pregnancy was no easy feat, a fact only made more evident when you throw gender dysphoria into the mix. There were good and bad days, and this one was erring on the side of the latter. You helped Copia throughout all of the steps of top surgery, and were more than happy to do so, but that was a lot of time off, of which neither of you had enough left that year. Bottom surgery was top of his list, but he had to wait at least a few months to get there. In that time is when it happened. Despite the hormone therapy and consistent protection, one day you were waking up to the sound of retching in the suite’s bathroom. That could have been a one-off, but after a week you took an unpermitted trip to the corner store. He called his doctor to figure out the best course of action, but in the end it was up to him. He mulled it over for days, you hardly talked about anything else. You made sure to tell him that there was absolutely no pressure, no need to do this if he was not absolutely positive he wanted it and was able to. In the end, he wanted children, biological if it could be helped, and it could. He temporarily stopped taking testosterone, and now here you are.

“I’m glad I can be that for you, sweetheart.” You say. The hand on the armrest raises to cup his cheek, albeit carefully so as not to smear his paint. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, since he nuzzles right into your palm. The other stays on his abdomen, which allows you to feel a most heartwarming occurrence. From within, something small presses against your fingers. Both of you notice immediately, and don matching, beaming smiles within the second.

“You see? What did I tell you? I’m getting beat up here, huh?” He jokes, each word laced with a giggle.

“I do! That one was pretty strong, I think you may have watched those ‘Rocky’ movies too many times.” You return the humor, though your excitement is palpable- you may even be a little proud. Strength is a good sign in development, right?

“There’s no such thing!” Copia replies in faux offense. A lot of his free time, especially once he started showing, was spent watching films from his vast collection. As much as he loved movies in general, the iconic boxer had always been somewhat of an inspiration for him, so they played quite a few times over the months. “I believe Bambino would like some kisses from you, caro.” He suggests, biting his grinning lip as he gazes up at you from his seated position.

“Oh, would they now?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “They told you that too, I take it?” He nods. You let out a small chuckle at his antics, and slide down to your knees before him. Already, you can’t wipe the smile off of your face, just loving seeing him like this. It is a nice angle. Carefully and slowly, you raise the intricately bedazzled fabric of his robes. He holds it up as you pull it past his ankles, then knees, until finally his midsection is revealed. You meet his eye. “No shirt again?”

“None of them fit anymore, tesoro.” He reminds you matter-of-factly, which is fair enough. None of his usual under-attire, anyway, but he refused to wear his casual tops with the papal getup.

You make a face as if to say “You got me there.”, and turn your attention back to the task at hand. Your gaze falls before you, to the swelled bare skin peeking out from under the bunched up regalia and over a pair of black pants. Perhaps just because it was him, and with your child, but the sight was truly something you could never stop adoring. Subconsciously, the fact that it was kept hidden may have influenced your feelings, the idea of nobody else being able to tell while you couldn’t not notice was enticing to say the least. On either side of the bump is black suspenders, which he found he had to use after not being able to properly fasten his trousers. You gently unclip them, and he sighs in relief. They did put a visible amount of pressure on the underside of it, metal clamps pushing up against his skin. “You could always just undo them when sitting here all day.” You offer, and instinctively begin stroking the flesh with your fingers where imprints of the buckles had formed.

Copia hums in response to the touch before answering. “Yeah, and if a clergy member walked in I would have to stand, and then my pants would drop to the floor.”

That was a good point… and an admittedly amusing image.

“You could wear no pants at all…” You say playfully, glancing back up at him.

“Ah, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” He replies with just as much humor, and nudges your side with his knee, which pulls a laugh from your throat.

You wink at him, but waste no more time, and lean in to press your lips to the top of his rounded belly in a soft, tender kiss. You hear a gasp, but can’t quite get a good look at his face from down here. Even so, you grin, and bring both of your hands to rest on his sides. You trail kisses down the bump steadily, all the while faintly caressing the peripheries of it, which causes him to make a series of tiny noises ranging from sharp intakes of breath to chuckles. Evidently, pregnancy didn’t make him any less ticklish. Nearly halfway down, you manage to catch a glimpse of him. He’s looking at you through one open eye, a faint flush painting his ears, and an adorably wide smile. You swear he could truly melt you if he tried hard enough- or not at all, really. After reaching the end of your path, you add a few more around less calculated spots here and there, and rest your forehead against it with closed eyes. He’s quite warm, but perhaps that’s due to your actions.

“Anche noi ti amiamo, caro.” Copia mutters after a few long moments, and brings a gloved hand to your head, lightly stroking over your hair.

You smile, then press one last kiss to his stomach, right above his belly button, which you had observed has been turning into an “outie”. You go to reattach one of the suspenders to his pants when his hand blocks your view.

“Leave them, per favore.” He requests quietly.

“Not worried about flashing the clergy anymore?” You inquire lightheartedly in response, and begin to pull the robes back down over him, watching as the fruit of your labor disappeared underneath.

“Ah, they probably won’t come see me today.” He answers with a sigh. “Besides, I might have to call you back before the day is over.”

You raise yourself from your spot on the floor, having unfolded the garment to its end. “My department is already wondering about these frequent visits, Papa.” You warn, though only half of you really cares right now. You lean over him again, your faces mere inches apart.

Copia straightens his posture, which allows him to reach you for a quick kiss. “It’s not up to me, yell at Bambino.”

“I could never.” You respond with a quickness, your tone only half joking, and reciprocate his little peck before standing upright. You had spent a suspicious amount of time in his office by now, and the both of you knew you had to be leaving soon.

“I know, amore…” He says, stroking your upper arm before watching you step back, not taking your eyes off of him just yet. “I will call and tell them that I kept you, that it’s my fault.”

Before you can tell him not to worry his pregnant head about it, the landline on his desk rings.

He presses his index finger to his lips, and with his other hand makes a “shoo” motion. You blow a silent kiss to him before opening the door and stepping out, trying to fix your expression to be anything less than elated.

You know he’ll send for you again.

Translations (kind of):

"Non è poi così male quando sei in giro..." : "It's not so bad when you're around..."

“Anche noi ti amiamo, caro.” : "We love you too, dear."

59 notes · View notes

zelianthos-capercaillie · 3 months

Text

A sneak peek of my contribution for the HashiMada Week 2024 Day 3 prompt “Animals”

It’s a Cat AU set in an alternate world Hi no Kuni

(Wordcount: Approx. ~630)

@hashimada-week

***

Izuna raced back down a few stories, jumping across window ledges and apartment roofs, until he reached the upper balcony of an empty townhouse where a black poofy cat was sleeping belly up on a cushioned egg hammock.

“Nii-san!” He trilled. “Nii-san, wake up!”

Madara scrunched his eyes but did not open them, mumbling mrmpghmrm as he flipped over and went back to snoring.

Izuna was undeterred. He bopped his head on his brother’s shoulder. “Nii-san, wake up! I saw the moving people. They have a cat! We’re gonna have a new neighbor!”

“Hnghngh…”

“Nii-san, come on! We’ll just introduce ourselves real quick, then you can go back to sleep!”

Silence.

“I’ll go with you to eat at the seaside bistro later in return,” he coaxed in a singsong voice, making biscuits on Madara’s back. “Whaddya say?”

All he got for his trouble were more incoherent babbles.

Izuna harrumphed. Fine, then. He eyed his brother's unsuspecting bushy tail. Time to go about this the old-fashioned way.

The silence stretched further until it was broken by Madara’s sudden yowl.

“Ow! Izuna!”

“Rise and shine!”

“Why, you little—”

The two tussled on the floor, chasing each other inside the adjacent living room and out the balcony again, winding up on the corner padded bench warmed by the buttery morning sun.

In the end, Izuna sported a canary-eating grin, licking his fur coat with pride, even if the ones on his neck were a tad thinner.

“Why do you wanna meet this cat so bad, anyway?” Madara huffed, now wide awake and also missing a few tufts of hair on his tail. “For all we know, this one might become your future archenemy.” He bent over and tried smoothing his tousled fur as best he could.

“Or this white cat might be my new best friend! Maybe there’ll be more moving people and they’d also bring another cat and they could be your new best friend! The possibilities are endless, Nii-san! And I’ll never know if we don’t go there and introduce ourselves.”

“You just want to recruit them to your Cat-Eye of the Moon plan, don’t you?”

“…”

Madara let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Tch. Ye of little faith, Nii-san.” Izuna sniffed. “Just you wait. This is gonna be the start of a boom in cat population, I can feel it! With the two of us, and that white cat—maybe even more cats in the future—revolution is now at hand! Today, Tanzaku District is three cats strong; tomorrow, a hundred!”

“That’s now how it works, brat. And leave me out of that ‘grand plan’ of yours!”

“But this is a golden opportunity for expanding our allied forces—”

“An allied force of two, you mean,” his brother cut in.

“—you’re not seriously telling me to pass this up, are you?”

Madara groaned. “All I’m saying is that I’m not recruiting anyone. How about this,” he compromised, booping Izuna on the nose when he opened his mouth to protest, “I’ll wait after you make contact, and then I’ll introduce myself afterward. Let’s start with you first so they won’t feel like it’s an ambush.”

Izuna hummed. He put up two toe beans on his chin in a thinking expression. “That’s a good point. Congeniality isn’t really your strong suit, after all.”

“Hmph.”

“Fine. We’ll go with your plan, and you can wait for my signal.” He got a grunt in reply. “Well then, I’m off! Wish me luck, Nii-san!”

“Good luck, and be careful.” Madara hopped back to his egg hammock, circling a few times before tucking his paws in a loaf. “Let’s have lunch by the seaside bistro when you’re done. It’s Tuesday and today’s specialty is Hirasaka Salmon.”

“Gotcha! Be back soon!”

With a bum wiggle and a leap, Izuna bounded off to greet his newfound friend.

#hashimadaweeksneakpeek2024 #hashimada #madahashi #uchiha madara #senju hashirama #hashi come home #my fic #fanfic #light angst #enough to make a feather jealous #featuring: izuna's plan to conquer the world #one cat at a time #tobi&izu friendship

8 notes · View notes

sissytobitch10seconds · 6 months

Text

Light as a Feather

Fandom: Grishaverse: Shadow and Bone and Six of Crows Summary: Nina is scared, so scared that she can't even get the words out of her throat. Luckily, she has five other voices to do the work for her when she can't. Warnings: Mentions of sexual situations, haphephobia, PTSD, and relationship miscommunications Word Count: 3,525 Ship(s): Kaz Brekker/Jesper Fahey/Inej Ghafa/Matthias Helvar/Wylan Van Eck/Nina Zenik

Archive link!

Their impromptu trip to Ravka and then return to the city that she was beginning to view as her home had almost made her head spin with the way that it had played out.

They had all been back in the country that she was born and raised in, the one that she had been destined to protect and likely would have died in. They had helped a literal living Saint bring down the Darkling and the Fold, freeing the country from the need that they had for her. She had returned back so that she could free the man that she loved with the blessing of the second most powerful woman in the entire country, the woman that she had cherished as a sister when they were training together.

Almost as soon as they had gotten back, they had more important issues to deal with. Inej wasn’t with them and they had mortgaged the Crow Club so that they could bring her out of the country with them the first time, which meant that they were fighting Tante Heleen back with a cudgel. She felt like almost nothing compared to the Nichey’voya and the Volcra that they had been fighting when they were working to bring down the Darkling. Per Haskell was furious that they had put the home he had grown so comfortable in to jeopardy but was quickly satiated when they revealed the amount of fanciful gifts that the king had bestowed upon them for their help in bringing down Ravka’s greatest menace.

Things were tense between almost everyone, with Inej being gone. She returned as soon as Mal decided that the ship needed to be veering away from the course that she had wanted. She came back and promised that she would only work with them for as long as it took for her to get a ship and a crew of her own, especially now that she knew how to sail.

Wylan was still working at the tannery on orders from Kaz, which they had all found slightly strange in the beginning. That had changed entirely when their leader revealed the fact that he was actually the son of a wealthy merchant that had decided that he was going to run away. Things between Wylan and Jesper had gotten messy after that.

Nina herself had been working in the House of the White Rose while soothing people’s emotions and easing the aches of their bodies. It wasn’t the best use of her powers and certainly not where she thought that her life was going to lead her when she was sent on that fateful mission, but it was good work. Kaz was keeping her informed of what was happening with Matthias in Hellgate even if he wasn’t breaking Matthias out the way that she had begged him to.

Then had come the heist at the Ice Court. The six of them were finally together for the first time. Jesper and Wylan bickered almost as much as Nina and Matthias did, though theirs seemed a lot more bitter and passive aggressive instead of full-out hostility. The long walk through the snow to the town that held the Ice Court and the boat ride to Fjerda had been the worst couple of weeks that Nina had ever endured and she had to go through training with Baghra and Botkin at the same time.

Things had changed when they had seen each other almost die. Apparently Jesper had learned that even though his boyfriend wasn’t who he had said he was initially, he was some spoiled brat that had just run away from his father. Matthias and Nina had gained and lost trust with each other often enough that it put them on an even playing field, one that something could be built on.

Nina found herself becoming so attached to Inej that she felt like her heart might actually burst when the other girl wasn’t around. She also noticed that Inej was closer with Jesper and Kaz, able to touch them both despite the issues that the latter had. Wylan was also growing closer with Matthias and Kaz, to the point where she had walked in on them being intimate with each other.

They took down Pekka Rollins and Jan Van Eck in one foul swoop not long after they had returned from the Ice Court. Inej had her ship and she sailed for six months of the year with frequent stops back in Ketterdam so that she could either repair her ship or restock on supplies. Kaz had taken over the Dregs and ousted Per Haskell when his own boss had tried to turn the gang that he had already been running around on him. Wylan and Jesper were living in Geldstraat, though it was common to see Kaz haunting those halls as well. Nina and Matthias drifted between living in the clubs to traveling to Fjerda so that they could try to free other Druskelle to living with the Merchant Council member.

Something changed during the time that they were allowed to live without someone breathing down their neck, without the threat of war or imminent doom. They found themselves falling into the arms and against the mouths of the people that they had once only called friends. It was tender and heartfelt and so new for all of them, but they were quite good at figuring it out. Nina knew that the Triumvirate and the king had a similar relationship with the Saint and her firebird, so she was more okay with it than Matthias had been at first but still awkward.

Now it felt as easy as breathing. She didn’t know how she had managed to survive without being able to step foot back into Wylan’s grand mansion and be met with Jesper’s long arms around her waist, Wylan’s sweet head tucked into her neck, and Inej’s soft lips against her own.

She noticed that the others were growing closer to each other the same way that she was with them and it made her heart soar. Nina’s favorite thing was to watch the way that Inej and Kaz existed around each other without actually having to interact, the way that Matthias and Wylan would talk about the newest book that Matthias was reading to the latter, the way that Jesper would pick Inej up and dance around the room with her when he was feeling restless. It was enough to make her feel like she was melting even when she wasn’t being included in it.

She was having one specific problem with the situation, however. Even after she and the others had permanently moved back into the Van Eck estate since they were wearing down a little too much to continue their rigorous travels, it was still there in the forefront of her mind.

The others could touch Kaz but she still couldn’t. She watched carefully as Jesper would walk up behind Kaz and wrap his arms around the smaller man’s waist. She watched as Wylan yanked him around by the back of his shirt when he was being particularly stupid or mouthing off. She watched as Inej tucked herself into the crook of his neck or folded their hands together in her lap. She watched as Matthias slowly trailed his huge hands over the back of Kaz’s head and brought their lips together in the most sensual kiss that she had ever seen. She watched, but she could never do.

It had been years since they had gone to Shu Han to get the blade from the living Saint for Alina. It had been years since she had watched the way that Kaz had reacted to her hand resting on top of his, the way that his heartbeat had skyrocketed and he had fled the scene before the job was even over. She couldn’t touch him because every time she thought about doing so, all she saw was the fear that was gripping those near-black eyes from something as small as her trying to check on him.

They were all healing from their issues, they were all growing as people, and yet Nina was still too scared to touch her lover.

The issue had gotten particularly big when she had walked in on Matthias and Kaz in the throws of passion and then was unable to get the idea of Kaz doing something similar to her instead of her husband. They had only kissed twice and both of those times had resulted in Nina nearly crying because she was so scared that she had done something wrong.

Her mind was a twisted storm of thoughts and feelings that she knew she had no hope of unraveling on her own.

She was seated underneath the large apple tree in the center of the green space on the Van Eck estate. She was watching Hund for Matthias because the dog was very easily excited and the aforementioned man was out on a date with two of their partners. Hund didn’t really require that much watching, so she was able to relax and let her mind wander.

Of course, that meant that she was immediately thinking back to the image of Kaz standing above Matthias and then the flash of what it would be like for him to be doing that to her. It was quickly followed by a panicked fluttering in her heart as she remembered the way that he had reacted the first time she touched him.

She moved her finger up to her mouth so that she could chew on the skin at the edge of her thumb just to brush off some the anxious energy now inside of her. She didn’t know how she was supposed to fix this situation when she seemed to be the only one that was having the problem.

She must have been sitting outside for far longer than she realized because the very man that she had been thinking of walked out of the backdoor to their home and then directly over to her. “Nina,” Kaz rasped in that dark voice that sent shivers up the back of her spine.

“Yes, dear Kaz?” she asked, teasing him to try and get the thoughts that were sticking like honey to her mind out.

He looked at her with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, which let her know that this was more serious than him asking her to help him with lunch. Carefully, he sat down next to her so that he was leaning against the other tree in the little space that she had found. Hund noticed that another person had joined one of his owners so rushed over and lapped at Kaz’s face for only a moment before he disappeared back into the garden to do whatever it was that dogs did.

“Love, if you wanted to talk then we could have gone inside. You didn’t have to hurt your leg just for me,” Nina chided softly. She may not have been able to touch her lover because of her own fear but she still was able to care for him in a number of other ways.

“This is where you come to think,” Kaz said.

She flushed a little bit. She knew that she was decently easy to read when she wasn’t actively trying to hide something, she was trained as a spy after all, but it was still incredibly romantic to know that she was known by the people that loved her. “It reminds of being back in the Little Palace,” she explained softly. “I miss it there sometimes, and it helps me think to be somewhere that’s comforting.”

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. He was looking at her with eyes that were dark and monstrous, a look that made her way to bow down to him and beg forgiveness for a sin she didn’t even know about.

Nina didn’t know how she was supposed to admit the feelings that were swirling around inside of her like the darkest of storm clouds. The words were all caught on the edge of her tongue and her heart was hammering like she was affecting it with her own powers, the ones she had before everything came crashing down on her. “I don’t know if I can touch you,” she finally admitted, all of the words rushing out of her like a dam breaking after too much rain.

Kaz looked at her for a second, his face completely unreadable. She wished that she still had her old powers so that she could have some idea of what he was feeling, but she didn’t. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t angry since that was the only emotion that he was incapable of effectively hiding.

“You don’t think that you can touch me?” he repeated, raising his brow at her. “Nina, we’ve touched before.”

“But you’ve always instigated it and I’ve always felt so bad afterwards,” she mumbled. She didn’t know how to explain what she felt at the moment and she was doing a piss-poor job at it. At the rate that she was going, Kaz was going to assume that she didn’t want anything to do with him and their relationship would end in tears.

What she was expecting to happen never came to pass as Kaz let out a small sigh and then shifted closer to her. “Nina, tell me what’s really on your mind.”

She knew that he had gotten that ability from spending time with Jesper, who was never able to put his feelings into words right off the bat. She worried the edge of her dress in between her fingers as she slowly said, “Do you remember back when we were in Shu Han? Talking to the Saint?”

“Yes,” Kaz nodded.

“I touched you to make sure that you were okay and it made you have a panic attack. It was the first time that I had ever seen someone react to me like that and the first time that I had ever seen you as something other than Dirtyhands,” she explained. She refused to look up at him and meet his eyes, too afraid of what she might see. When he didn’t have anything to say to her in reply, she continued, “I guess I just assumed that if I tried to touch you again then the same thing would happen. I know that you’ve been doing a lot of work on your tolerances and your haphephobia, but I’m still so scared that I’m going to hurt you again.”

Nina only looked up when she heard the creaking of leather, which meant that Kaz was doing something with his gloves. He wore them a lot more rarely than he had before, which had allowed all of his partners to get used to the sight of his pale, dexterous fingers.

He shifted so that they were sitting side-by-side instead of facing each other and then slowly reached for her. He was moving like he was trying to make sure that he wouldn’t frighten a wild animal. She had seen that kind of caution when Matthias was trying to figure out the best way to comfort their partner, or when Wylan was having a flashback and Jesper was trying to soothe him before it could turn into an entirely sleepless night. She had always been so sturdy and sure of herself, even when she had a relapse back into the craving for jurda parem, that she had never seen it directed back at her. It made her feel vulnerable and special in a way that she knew she could easily get addicted to.

She let out a low breath as she tilted her hand up and met him halfway. Their palms slid together in perfect harmony and then their fingers threaded together slowly. She felt the warmth of his body leaching into her skin and then shuddering through her entire form so that her belly was full of bright, white light.

“Love, back when you touched me for the first time, I had done no work,” Kaz rasped. His voice was low and soft despite the naturally abrasive nature of it. It was soothing and made her feel so at ease that she actually found herself relaxing into his touch. Her heart was filling more and more the longer that they were touching each other. “I was a broken man that let fear rule him. I was greedy and yet still somehow unwilling to give myself what I wanted.”

“You wanted…?” she trailed off, unsure of what he had meant. She knew that he had been in love with Inej since she had met the two of them not long before they had sailed to Ravka for Alina and Nikolai. She knew that the two of them had a conversation about touch and what they wanted out of each other after the destruction of the Fold, which was when Kaz had started changing for his beloved Wraith.

“I wanted you almost as soon as I saw you,” he laughed. Nina was well aware that she was beautiful, which was why she had always used that when she was working with the Dregs. It was hard for her to believe that Kaz had found her beautiful enough to want her when they first met because he had been an enigma wrapped up in a mystery, something completely untouchable.

He shifted again so that his free hand was brushing across her cheek. She felt sparks flood through her nerve endings there and she couldn’t help her eyes from fluttering shut. She was no stranger to pleasure, not when she had five partners and four of them were waiting at her beck and call to help fulfill her needs. Something about Kaz touching her in the way that he was felt more intimate, more gentle and connection-worthy than anything she had ever experienced before.

“I don’t know how someone like you could want someone like me,” Nina whispered.

“What, am I too ugly for you?” Kaz asked, though she could almost taste the laugh on his voice. He was teasing her and trying to get a reaction out of her because she was out of sorts and it made her want to start wailing like a baby.

“Of course not. You’re one of the most handsome men that I have ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on,” she sniffled. She tilted her head back when she felt his bare fingers trail down her jaw to behind her head so that he was drawing her closer. “Besides, only one of us can be self-deprecating at a time.”

“I outweigh you, I’ve been doing it for longer than you have,” Kaz mumbled. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the soft white skin of her neck reverently, like she was something to behold and cherish. It made a sigh drop from her lips even though she was biting them to try and hold back any noises. Her skin felt like it had when she had just come off of the parem, sensitive and hyper aware of everything around her.

“Kaz,” she whimpered. She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to handle that close proximity with him without reaching outwards to hold him herself.

She realized then that was what he wanted. Kaz was horrible when it came to actually telling them what he wanted, he often demanded that they draw it out of him. The only person that he would ever admit things to were Inej and the two of them were so used to sharing secrets that whatever Kaz had told her just stayed as another job.

Carefully, with shaky fingers and an unsteady heart, Nina reached out so that she was trailing her fingertips along the edge of his shirt. She turned her palm to the side so that she could drag her hand through the whisps of hair curling at his neck. He needed a haircut, she realized when she couldn’t find the stark line between the undercut and the long hair on top.

They were pressed together so tightly that their body heat had become one. Nina shifted so that her forehead was resting against Kaz’s and their noses were almost bumping against each other. He was so close that she could feel his breath against her neck and feel his lashes against hers when he blinked, fluttering like a butterfly against her cheek.

She tilted her head up slightly when she felt the muscles in the back of his hand flex to tell her what he wanted something. Their noses knocked together and then his lips were on top of hers because she had leaned forward to join them. It was something that they had done before, but she had never instigated it. He had given her permission in the way that his hand was still resting on the back of her neck, but she was the one that had taken the final step that she had always left for him.

“There’s my girl.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #soc #six of crows #sab #shadow and bone #nina zenik #Kaz brekker #polycrows #Nina x kaz #Kaz x nina #kanina #light as a feather fic

10 notes · View notes

wren-of-the-woods · 2 years

Note

Hello hello hello, it has been a while since we last chatted but you are still my resident Witcher mutual and I know you have impeccable taste in fanfic - so I was wondering (if you wouldn't mind) if you could rec any fics about Jaskier's family? Either blood-related from Lettenhove or found family from bard-ing, I'm really unfussy! I'm just very invested in where the bard came from before meeting his Witcher...

Anyway, hope you're doing alright and no worries if this isn't something you're interested in!

Hello Fae!! It's lovely to hear from you! I absolutely do not mind and was delighted at the chance to make another reclist. I hope you find some fics you like!

As always, I would love to hear if anyone reading this has their own recs. Do you know a fic that fits the category? Want to promote one of your own stories? Go for it!

Without further ado, here are a bunch of lovely fics featuring OCs for Jaskier's family!

his hair was like the strands of gold by underlay Rated G, 6k The Count de Lettenhove has been away from home for several months. Meanwhile, a Witcher has arrived, part of a new protection deal between the Witchers and the Northern Kingdoms. When the Count gets home, he finds a lovesick Julian and a Witcher who isn’t quite what he was expecting. (I have yet to read it, but this one has a sequel that also looks very good!)

for she had done mischief by @whatkindofnameisvolta Rated T, 43k After unexpectedly becoming a father to a demi-god, Jaskier returns to Lettenhove for much needed parental support. There he finds half-a-dozen of his niblings, all with far too much curiosity for their own good. Meanwhile, on the run from Nilfgaard, Geralt, Yennefer and Cirilla also make their way to Lettenhove, to find sanctuary amongst Jaskier's family.

A Mother of One's Own by ohnoesidontknow Rated M, ~1k (one of multiple ficlets posted as the same work) Jaskier's mom adopts Geralt.

enough to drive a man mad by @contemplativepancakes Rated T, 6k Jaskier convinces Geralt to pretend that they’re dating when they visit his parents.

So Inviting (I Almost Jump In) by @happyjuicyfruit Rated G, 5k Geralt accompanies Jaskier to his sister’s wedding. Jaskier’s family is not what Geralt expected.

You, Forever by inanoldhouseinparis Rated G, 16k Geralt and Jaskier pretend to be engaged in Lettenhove.

You've Been Deprived, Haven't You My Dear? by Bedalk05 Rated T, 7k Jaskier is a shifter and Geralt finds out. (Featuring Jaskier’s mother! I have yet to read the rest of the series, but it looks wonderful.)

Kingdoms Come and Kingdoms Go, Rivers Run and Rivers Flow by @dancinglassie Rated T, 62k Jaskier's start in life was unfortunate, but sadly not unheard of. He was put in a sack, less than an hour old, and chucked in the river. For many in his position that would of been the end of it, but the Yaruga heard his cut off wail and swept him into her loving embrace. Less than an hour old and Jaskier had already died and been reborn as the newest child of Mama Yaruga.

Wicked Things (orphaned) Rated M, 101k This is the story of how Jaskier helps to save the world. Jaskier is twenty when a rift opens and an army of Fae pour through it. Bloodthirsty and mindless, they sweep across the Continent, devastating human settlements and pushing them into smaller and smaller communities. Jaskier finds himself trapped in Lettenhove, having to deal with his father's gradual decline into madness and protecting his family and his village from the threats outside their walls. He meets a Faerie, trapped in a Faerie Ring; the rest, as they say, is history. (Jaskier’s family is there a lot, especially in the beginning, but heed the tags! There are a lot of other things going on here and a lot of them are horror-y.)

Now, here are a few AUs where Jaskier is related to someone from canon.

of music and motion and love by WriteThroughTheNight Rated T, 12k Jaskier comes from a far humbler background, and would really like to know why Yennefer never came back for her youngest brother. (The sequel is also wonderful!)

Soft Deceitful Wiles by boopboop Rated M, 23k Jaskier is Renfri's son, and ten years is plenty of time to prepare a suitable punishment for the Butcher of Blaviken.

Bonus: this one isn't really what you asked for, but it has brief appearances from Jaskier's parents, beautiful found family vibes throughout, and I love it far too much not to mention it!

speak the language of love (like you know what it means) by @restmyheadatnightcontent Rated T, 35k Julian Pankratz, one of the Continent's most famous playboys, always invited to the hottest parties, always seen with the best of the best, is enjoying his lavish life in his huge Cintran apartment when he suddenly gets cut off by his parents and is sent to live in the middle of nowhere. It might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to him.

More of my reclists can be found here.

#jaskier #the witcher #geraskier #julian alfred pankratz #witcher #fic rec #reclist #the witcher reclist #the witcher fic rec #fic recs #wren recs #yellow-feathered-faerie #i think i actually found 'for she had done mischief' because you recced it to me but it fits the category so here you go again XD #also! i assumed you were looking for fics that explore jaskier's family in a nuanced/positive light #so i didn't include the ones where they're mean/abusive #but i have those too and can find more so if you want that too let me know!#i haven't made a reclist in ages and i needed something chill to do this evening so this was excellent #i should look through my drafts #i might have some half-finished ones lying around

104 notes · View notes

mantisgodsdomain · 1 year

Text

On a somewhat related note, that one Hollow Knight SI/OC fic makes us foam at the mouth because the one (1) time we tried to read it they got basic details of How Dreamcatchers Work wrong and we had to physically restrain ourself from typing out a heated comment into the comment box because even if people are horrifically wrong on the internet sometimes yelling at them does not make it better, and we do not want to end up being an asshole to people who likely just didn't know better.

#the POINT of the dreamcatcher is that the bad dreams get caught in the web since theyre too heavy to escape #and the good dreams fall down the feathers because theyre light enough that the web doesnt catch them #we learned this when we were an Actual Child. not to be rude but if you are going to centre your fic around something then just #PLEASE learn how it works #this is in the same category as “the important ones on the totem pole are on the bottom” btw #we try and refrain from being an asshole but sometimes the impulse is high #we are not actually confident in our knowledge enough to start an argument based on our Current Base Of Knowledge mind you #its been years since we've been somewhere where we could confirm our knowledge and be sure we aren't misremembering #but also we did not hang around watching people do woodcarving for hours on end to hear people be blatantly wrong #this has been mantis god hater hour. we will now quarantine our shitty thoughts & impulses back into The Hole #we speak #bitching

6 notes · View notes

thatlovinfeelin · 2 years

Text

Trying to start to climb out of my bipolar hole so what do y’all want me to update first?? Rooster (and which one🫢) or Jake??

#bradley rooster bradshaw #eye of the storm #flightless bird #feather light #jake hangman imagine #Jake hangman seresin #little did I know #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman imagine

4 notes · View notes

writer-rider-flirty-thirties · 10 months

Text

Chloé is trying to a better person because of what... because of who she lost. 11/25 of Fanfic Wars (2023)

#Bre's Fics #Fanfic Wars 2023 #Thanks Feather!#Rare pair #past Chlobrina #Chlobrina #chloe bourgeois #light angst #Sabrina/Rose #Sabrina/Julerose #Haunting by Halsey

1 note · View note

pretentiouswreckingball · 1 year

Text

loops' pin thingy :D

fics

completed

As warm as the Calabrian sun [jegulus] (2/2, 8.4k)

Sometimes, when the planets are misaligned and the odds are not in his favor, James Potter gets sick. But even when all seems lost, James hasn’t run out of luck because, when he least expects it, said luck knocks on his door, taking the shape of someone very dear to him. James only has to let him in. *** Featuring a sick James, a cheeky little Harry, an orange cat named mandarina and an unexpected —but not unrequited— feverish confession under the stars. And love, so much love wrapped between white linen sheets and soft summer breeze.

light as a feather, soft as a kiss [drarry] (1/1, 1.7k)

Draco never thought Harry’s face could ever look this soft, every time he has laid eyes upon Harry over the years, his jaw has always been too tight, his entire face set like stone, defiant. And no matter what he did to avoid it, Draco has always been mesmerized by it, even when he was not supposed to be. So now, as he’s tracing the golden skin that seems to glow under the light of the sun pouring from outside, Draco realizes looks can be deceiving and he’s never been more glad to be in the wrong.

slow dancing in the dark [jegulus, wolfstar] (1/1, 2.5k)

James is gone. But that’s not quite right now, is it? Because to Regulus, James is always only one dance away.

some sunny day [jegulus, wolfstar, pandalily] (1/1, 3.7k)

A beach AU with an insane amount of seawater, sand castles, threesome jokes, number two's and grandparents absolutely besotted with the grandkids.

When it rains [jegulus, wolfstar, pandalily] (1/1, 17.1k)

In the last week of November, a storm takes place. Certainly, three days of intense rain would make everyone stay at home. It seems that six people don't get the memo, instead, they decide to take shelter at a random bus stop. Not at the same time and not the same pair each time, though. What are the odds this particular group of people know each other? And in what way are they all connected?

Don't threaten me with a good time [jegulus] (3/3, 7.6k)

No, that doesn't make sense. James' boyfriend can't be an animagus, can he? Besides, a black cat animagus can't actually bring bad luck... right? --- Or: when Regulus messed up with his boyfriend just for the fun of it and they almost die. A few times.

archenemies (or so he thought) [jegulus, wolfstar] (1/1, 3.2k)

Sirius doesn't like cats. He's an animagus dog for Godric's sake, it's in his very magical nature to despise such sneaky little shits. He particularly doesn't like cats who tend to steal his best friend's attention, leaving him alone in pursuing mischief. So when he confronted his best friend about it, the last thing he's expecting is for the black cat next to him, to turn into his brother.

*in rewrite*

About time, scars and the brightest stars [wolfstar, background jegulus/pandalily] (4/24, long)

About Time AU where Remus discovers he can travel through time and while he tries to navigate through his life with this newfound discovery, he learns about life, loss, love and what it means to be alive.

19 notes · View notes

fioiswriting · 4 months

Text

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired.

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later.

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him. "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual." He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours.

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his.

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy. He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel.

Everything he wasn't.

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time.

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

"Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face.

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable.

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

***

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you.

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination.

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant.

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words.

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey.

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation.

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable.

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction.

As if to unveil what he held within himself.

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover.

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass.

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet.

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach.

An unpleasant heat.

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery.

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important.

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles.

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table.

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten.

Jace almost choked.

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand.

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared.

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied.

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you.

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said. We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity.

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this.

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities.

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

***

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman.

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh.

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off.

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins.

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs.

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs.

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear.

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened.

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand.

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done.

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure.

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister.

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before.

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it."

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling.

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him.

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge.

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised.

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear. "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face.

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace.

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son.

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs.

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot.

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous.

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews.

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good." She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

***

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons.

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for.

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet.

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm.

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control.

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know.

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours.

The sensation was delicious.

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him.

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you.

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips.

You could see through his game.

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips.

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

***

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him.

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length.

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine.

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you.

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement.

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body.

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head.

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen.

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you.

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long.

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened. His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences. "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body. You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck.

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace x reader #jace velaryon #hotd x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys x fem!reader #jacaerys velaryon fanfic

5K notes · View notes

sakkiichi · 1 year

Text

COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.

Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?

ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.

a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.

Scaramouche is not amused.

Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.

Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.

“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.

“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.

“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”

“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.

He sighs.

“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.

“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.

Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.

“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.

“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.

Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.

“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.

Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.

Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.

Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.

Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.

Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.

✧ ALBEDO

A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.

Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.

Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.

“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.

“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.

The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.

“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”

Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.

Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.

“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.

A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.

“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.

“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.

“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”

“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.

After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.

“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”

His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.

“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.

Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.

Those last two syllables.

His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.

“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.

Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.

“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”

“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.

Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.

When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.

✧ XIAO

“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.

Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.

What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-

“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.

The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.

Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.

You, however, know better.

“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.

The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.

She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?

Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.

“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.

“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.

In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.

“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.

The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.

“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.

His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.

“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.

Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.

The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.

✧ CHILDE

Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.

Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.

The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.

He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.

She must get closer.

Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.

Her plan can be put into action now.

Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.

Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.

Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.

Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.

And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.

Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.

“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.

You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.

“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.

Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.

Then:

“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.

Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.

“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.

No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.

✧ KAEYA

Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.

Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.

Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.

But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.

A couple and their daughter.

“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.

His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.

“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”

The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.

You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.

“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.

With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.

“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.

“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.

“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.

Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.

Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.

Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.

Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.

Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.

The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.

Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.

“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”

Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.

“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.

Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.

A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.

“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”

The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.

“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.

Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.

“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.

In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.

Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.

The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.

8K notes · View notes

d0rothydraws · 27 days

Text

Luke and Kieran bet you to call Sylus a good boy. Without thinking, you accepted. Content: Light choking, Deep throating, Body worship, praise kink and general highly sexual themes

w/c: 3.8k

ao3: Here

part 2: Here

a/n: This is my first actual Sylus fic I hope I did him justice. The idea of calling him a good boy popped into my head and I ran with it. loosely based off of the oasis card. i could do a part 2 to this if people want it. low key nervous about posting this i havent posted smut in 2 years

Luke and Kieran bet you to call Sylus a good boy. Without thinking, you accepted.

And now, you were at an auction, insisting you came along. Teasing you for being clingy, Sylus accepted your company and now the two of you were sitting at a large dinner table surrounded by very powerful and Important men. They were talking in a language you didn't understand but you didn't really care. Your mind wasn't on the auction or the weapons they were bartering. Your mind was on Sylus. The man beside you so close you could feel the brush of his thigh against yours under your dress.

You tried to be calm. Confident. And for the most part besides your heart that was beating out of your chest, were doing a good job. Even as you moved a hand under the table onto his thigh.

The reaction was minimal, yet the fact you got a reaction in the first place was a good sign. His hand that was holding a steak knife, cutting into his meal tightened. Pausing for a moment before continuing.

You trailed your hand over the inseam of his thigh, a gentle feather light touch. You felt him stiffen under your hand. You knew how sensitive he was. He leaned his lips to your ear, his voice a low rumble.

"Bored with the auction, sweetie? You're the one that asked to come along." His breath was hot against your ear and yet you didn't falter. Your hand resting on the muscle of his upper thigh.

"I can't understand what they're saying. Of course I'm bored." You muttered back quietly only for him to chuckle, sitting back straight in his chair.

You moved slow, your fingers trailing higher up on his thigh until you trailed a finger against the zipper. A hand moved to hold your wrist, firm as his fingers wrapped around your hand.

"Sweetie." He said, his voice having an edge to it. You could feel how your touches have effected him. The warmth under your hand half hard. You bit back a smirk. But before you could continue or respond, the men at the table stood. Large double doors opened as the men entered.

You tried to pull your hand away, getting ready to stand to follow. It was time for the auction to begin. And yet, his grip tightened. Finally you looked up at him as he stood, still holding your hand. Following his lead he walked you into the room. His silence was loud.

The room was filled with rows of chairs and at the front, a stage with cases and boxes. As you went to sit down, Sylus pulled you closer, landing on his lap instead. You gasped softly, looking up at him but his eyes were trained on the stage.

"Just sit still and behave, sweetie." He said into your ear his arms wrapping around your waist ignoring any looks.

You took in a deep breath, feeling him still half hard under you. The auction begun, bids flowed in as they showed off firearms more expensive than you could even comprehend. You bit you lip, getting an idea as your heart spiked.

It was a handgun. Nothing like you haven't seen a million times you were sure Sylus probably even had that exact one. Yet, you hummed, faking interest.

"That one. I want that one" You whispered, leaning your head back against his shoulder as your ass pushed more against his hips. You felt him take in a sharp breath.

"Really out of all of the ones that's the one that catches your eye?" He said with an amused tone, not knowing what game you were playing but he knew that there was one. "I have about 50 of that exact model you can pick from." He said, leaning his lips against your ear, his hands moving to your hips, holding you firmly.

"But I want it." You pouted, looking up at him. "One of my own." His lips twitched into a smirk, an eyebrow lifting.

"One million" he said, his voice cutting through the crowd. Silence settled for a moment before another man with a thick accent countered.

"Two million"

Sylus' eye twitched. All of this trouble for a small hand gun. It wasn't worth more than one, he would know. But he knew the man was just bidding against him to spite him.

"Ten million." Sylus said. A few murmurs erupted. The man who was countering gave a loud scoff. The bid was completed.

You leaned your lips up, brushing against his ear.

"Good boy."

A hand moved to cradle your neck, not choking but still form. You could feel his body stiffen under you. His cock twitching under you. Your body heated up, breath growing hotter at his reaction.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kitten." He purred in your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You should stop. You finished the bet. But the adrenaline was addicting.

"I'm just telling the truth." You replied back, his hand still firm on your neck, the other around your waist. "I'm not satisfied yet, though." You purred, your hand moving to curl at the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He made a low sound. "Buy me another one. Be a good boy, and buy me another gun." You breathed into his ear, your voice was hot, needy. Greedy.

His hand on your neck tightened, his hips twitching against your ass as you felt the hardness under you build. Your eyes closed as you let out a heavy breath, blushing as your body began to tingle. You expected him to tell you to shut up. To mock you for calling him that. Not to be into it. Though he didn't outright say it, you could feel how he was slowly losing his handle on the situation.

Instead, he chucked. Soft lips pushed against your ear. "You're pushing it, sweetie." He growled softly, his nails biting the sides of your neck as his words sent a shiver down your spine. You knew you were playing with fire. But with his hand around your neck, people around you glancing to look at the man who just spent 10 million dollars on a simple handgun, you felt over confident.

"Oh sweetie," You retorted, refusing to give in so easily. You knew he liked a fight. "I'm not the one with a hardon right now from being called a good boy."

Your body was standing suddenly, your legs moving to the door before your mind caught up. Sylus' hand in yours as he practically dragged you out of the building. The ride back was quiet, yet the air was thick. You knew he was probably cursing his decision of bringing his bike and not a car, your chest pressed against his back, thighs against him as he drove as fast as the motor would let him.

You didn't have a chance to move off of the bike before his hands were pulling the helmet off of your head. His eyes dark as they looked into yours. His touch was exceptionally gently considering how you figured he'd be treating you right now. His fingers traced your jaw, guiding you off of the bike with his other hand. His hand wrapped around your hip, pulling you flush to his. Sylus' other hand taking your chin between his fingers. "You've been nothing but trouble tonight, kitten." He said, his tone unreadable as his thumb traced the bottom of your lip. You flicked out your tongue, bringing it into your mouth. His lips twitched into a smirk. "What's got you so riled up tonight?" He said with a chuckle, pressing the pad of his rough thumb against your tongue before pulling it back, smearing your saliva over your lip. "I had a bet. And I won." You said, a playful glimmer in your eye as you finally admitted what had been on your mind. "I had a bet with the boys that I wouldn't survive if I called you a good boy." You moved your hand to his cheek, trailing down the muscle of his neck. "And from what I've seen," Your voice dropped to a whisper. "You liked it."

"What a silly bet." He muttered as his hand on your hip pulled you closer. "What makes you think that I liked it?" He said raising and eyebrow. "Why tell you when I can show you." You whispered before moving to take his hand on your hip, thankful that he was following your lead for a change. Though it was always hard for him to deny you.

As you closed the door behind you, you looked up at Sylus, taking a slow breath. You could cut the tension with a knife. Yet, he didnt make a move. He knew this game, and he was willing to play it. At least, until he wasn't. As you stepped closer to him, a hand moved down the buttons on his shirt. "You know, you really are beautiful." You whispered, your words genuine.

"What, are you just going to praise me all night?" He said, a half laugh half scoff as he slid his fingers over your shoulder and under the sleeve of your dress. Your hand on his chest became more firm as you popped a couple of the buttons free. "Yes, actually." You said simply as his shirt opened to expose his chest. You seen his stomach contract as he took in a breath. "Now, lay down on the bed."

It seems you struck a nerve because he listened without protest. Shrugging off his shirt as it fell onto the ground, he laid on the bed. His eyes glued to you as you followed him, straddling his hips as your thighs rested on each side of his body.

You started with his neck. Your lips grazed the skin as you kissed him gently, trailing and peppering kisses down his jaw. "You're listening so well." You breathed against his cheek, his body tense as you rested your hands on his chest. "You really are a good boy." You giggled. He frowned, his eyebrows knotting. "Don't mock me." He grumbled, his breath hitching as your hand gently trailed over his chest. Your lips grazed his as you spoke. "I wouldn't dream of it." Your lips pressed against his in a slow, tender kiss. Your fingers circled his nipples. His breath hitched against the kiss as you added more pressure. You moved slowly. Your movements unrushed, tender. As if you were worshiping him. And in a way, you were. You wanted to overwhelm him with praise. With soft touches and kisses. He shivered softly as you pinched his nipples between your fingers. You broke the kiss, lips caressing the corner of his lips. "I could kiss you all night." You breathed before moving lower on his body. Your hips moved making him grunt as you adjusted. As your tongue trailed the canyon of his chest your hands moved against his sides. You felt his muscles, how they twitched under your hands. How his breath was heavy, his hips starting to become more active as he slowly became more needy. His hand moved to curl into your hair. His head leaning back as his eyes closed. A low sigh leaving his lips as he felt how your soft hands caressed his strong and admittedly tired body. As he felt your tongue flick against his nipple though, his hand tightened in your hair. A low groan that went straight between your thighs filled the room. Letting out a shaky breath in anticipation, you flicked your tongue a few more times. As the bud hardened, you wrapped your soft lips around it, your eyes looking up at Sylus through thick eyelashes only to find him looking back at you. His face was flushed, his eyes slightly glassed over. You had never seen him like this before.

You pinched his other nipple, twisting it between your fingers softly as you sucked the other one and then after a few moments you switched. His hips arched against your body, feeling his thick need tight against his pants from nothing more than a few kisses and touches. "I didn't know you were so needy." You whispered as you began to move lower. Your lips trailed down his stomach, feeling his abs flex under you as you reached his belt. "I like it." You purred, licking the wet patch through his pants earning a low groan from him. "Kitten if you keep teasing me I won't be able to stay still." He warned, his voice strained. The sound of his voice made you shiver, a soft hum of arousal leaving your lips as you looked up at him. Your tongue sticking out to lick the spot again, slowly.

"You can handle it." You said, smirking as you used the words he used against you so long again against him. You slowly sat back up on your heels as you looked at him. "Now, be good and undo your pants for me baby."

His large hands moved to his belt, his hips raising as the sound of metal echoed as he undid the belt, sliding it off and letting it fall off the bed. His hands trailed over the button of his pants. You watched with heat in your eyes as he circled it sensually before popping the button open. His thumbs hooked under his underwear and pants, pulling them down with one movement.

You licked your lips as you looked down at him. Pants around his thighs, his cock hard and dripping onto his stomach as his hands finished adjusting his pants. As he moved his hand to curl in your hair again you pulled back, smirking.

"You didn't ask to touch me first." You said in a playful tone as your finger trailed the thick vein on his thigh up to his cock. He twitched, taking a sharp breath.

"Can.. I touch you?" He asked, oh so obediently. It made your heart flutter.

"No." You said with a low purr as you moved back down between his thighs. Lips trailed up the thick muscle, licking that same vein that your hands trailed seconds before. As he was about to argue, a grunt filled the room as you licked up the bottom of his cock before taking the tip past your lips.

His hands clenched, nails digging into his hands as he struggled to obey your command. You looked up at him, slowly lowering your mouth lower, lower and lower. Your tongue pushed flat against the sensitive tip as you took him entirely into your throat. He groaned louder, his mouth opening slightly as he twitched, his hips shaking as he felt your throat tighten around him as you swallowed his cock.

"Fuck kitten." He moaned, his eyes never leaving you as his breath became labored. You moaned around him, feeling yourself struggle to breathe around him. He was so thick, so large that he reached the base of your throat. Your eyes rolled as you began to bob your head.

He couldn't stop himself from thrusting into your tight little throat. You said no touching, but never not to move. And now, you couldn't talk with your mouth occupied. So, he took full advantage of the situation.

You gasped around him as he met your lips, a wet sound filling the room as his hips thrusted against you. He reached deeper in your throat, swallowing around him he moaned, his head falling back. Giving in, his hand finally curled in your hair. Fingers wrapping tightly around you as he held you still. "I'm sorry, kitten. You're too good." He growled as he rutted into your mouth. A low moan fell out of your bruised mouth as you were silently grateful for the turn of events. As his thrusts became more uneven and his cock swelled more against your painfully tight throat you groaned as hot cum flowed against you. A few more thrusts before he slowly pulled out, a sheen of sweat on his body. His cock, still half hard laid against his stomach. You panted for breath, air painfully filling your lungs again. Gently he brought you up to his lips, kissing you slowly as his hands rested on your waist.

You pulled back giving him a pout. Your voice strained and raw. "That's not how it was supposed to go." You grumbled but blushing as his hands trailed down your waist and to cup your thighs.

"Mm but you would have done the same thing if you were in my position, sweetie." "No, I have more self restraint than you."

"I don't believe you." He whispered, a low chuckle. "Let's test it, shall we?"

#sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads #l&ds #l&ds sylus #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #smut #love and deepspace sylus #my writing

2K notes · View notes