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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

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Studious V (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

Aemond reads your notes, and you both finally come clean. After he introduces you to his best friend, you invite him back to your chambers.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: OOH BOY ITS TIME! We got tiddy suckin', we got fingering (f receiving), we got oral sex (f receiving), and we got p in v sex (finally), and of course, Aegon!

Author's Note: Bone apple teeth, y'all

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here - Read Part VI Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious V

Only a few minutes later, you sat across from Aemond at the small dining table in his chambers – obviously only ever intended for one. He had to drag one of the chairs by the hearth across the room just so you could sit with him. For he had insisted you stay while he read your notes, assuring you that it would not take long.

“I read very quickly,” he explained. “I have to, if I hope to read everything I want to.”

Now, you sat silently across from him as you watched him read. He held your diary in his right hand while his left held open his own where it rested on the table. While reading, he would often look between the two, cross-referencing what you had written about with his original entries.

It was quite amusing, being able to watch his reactions. Subdued as they were, you still caught him, on various occasions, both smiling and frowning. He even blushed once! You smiled as you recalled him doing the same to you – watching your face as you read in the library. Perhaps you were more similar than you had once thought.

For a long while, Aemond said nothing. He hardly even looked at you – only glancing up a few times and shying away when he noticed you looking back.

Until once, he did not look away. Though he did blush quite deeply.

“I apologise,” he whispered, “I did not realise how… detailed I was in some instances. You should not have had to read such depravity. Please, forgive me.”

So, he reached the library entry. And you had not written anything in response – a stark difference from every other entry. It was no wonder that he thought you offended. But you were most certainly not offended, and you had heard enough apologies from him to last you the rest of your lifetimes.

You reached across the table – hardly difficult, as it was so small – and brushed your fingers against his. The urge to fully take his hand was strong, but you did not want to push too far before the two of you had settled everything.

“There is no need to apologise,” you said, your first words since you gave him the diaries. “It is perfectly natural for a man to… think about his wife in such a way. Didn’t Septon Eustace tell you that so long as we were married, lust is not a sin?”

Aemond smiled a little at that, but his brow was still furrowed in concern, as if he did not believe you entirely.

“I actually –” you began, laughing a little as you spoke to relieve the tension. “I actually found it quite… interesting.”

“Oh!” Aemond’s mouth fell open, and his eye widened in the same expression that had once made you think he looked like a freshly caught fish. This time was perhaps even more satisfying than the first, as a flush quickly spread across his face and climbed all the way to his ears, until he was as red as his family crest.

“I… um, I am glad,” Aemond’s statement sounded curiously more like a question as his eye darted from you to the table to the diaries. “I thought that… I suppose… I was just… I still – I am still sorry.”

And with that, he turned back to diaries.

Judging by the position of the sun – which you were never very good at, so your estimations were far from precise – it took less than an hour for Aemond to finish reading. You had passed nearly all the time by surveying his rooms.

His rooms were immaculate, which was no surprise. Everything spotless and precisely arranged. Each tapestry, of which there were few, was hung perfectly. The vases on a table near the hearth were spaced so evenly that you could not imagine how it could have been without a measuring stick. And the books on the many bookshelves were well organised.

But as well as it was kept, it did not feel like Aemond. The tapestries were finely made, but the subjects – one hunting scene, one depiction of the Red Keep, one of the Seven, and one of a dragon that did not look like any of the ones you had heard described – were very standard. The vases were well crafted, but they, too, were plain. Two in varying shades of brown, one brass, and one in a simple pattern of brass and black. Even the bookshelves seemed impersonal. They were filled to the brim with leather and linen tomes, each as pristine as they must have been when they were first bound.

There were no little trinkets, personal items, or anything else that would identify Aemond as the occupant. If not for its position at the heart of the Holdfast or the fact that you could see Aemond’s sword and dagger leaning against a wardrobe in what must be the bedroom, you would think these were guest quarters.

How was he content with living in such an impersonal space?

You had filled the walls of your rooms until you could hardly see the stone, cluttered your tables with crafting supplies and reminders of your home and family, and stuffed so many of the small items you had collected over your lifetime in your shelves that there was hardly room for books. And while Aemond had been fascinated by the decoration within your rooms, he had still chosen not to make his own a home.

Perhaps you could help him fix that.

But before you could start considering how to do so, you looked back to him and immediately became mesmerised. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his eye snapping between the two diaries with dizzying speed, and his lips slightly pursed. It almost seemed as though he was studying rather than simply reading.

He cared about this – very much so. He was almost… desperate.

Did he still think you would ask to be separated from him? After you had read his diary, as he asked? After you returned to him and offered your own? After you had assured him you were not repulsed by what he had written?

Had you really been so cold to him that he could still believe you would run away?

A chill settled over you at the possibility. Perhaps several days ago, you may have accepted his offer to return to your home. Now, the thought of leaving him made you almost nauseous, though you were not entirely sure why. You wrapped your arms around yourself and cast your gaze down to the table surface.

“I’ve finished,” Aemond said merely a moment later. You looked up to see him setting your diary down next to his, then turning the pages of each back to the beginning of your shared story.

You sat up straighter in your chair, first placing your clasped hands on the table, then in your lap, then unclasping them so you could bunch the skirts of your dress in your hands – both to try and calm your nerves and soak up the moisture that had begun to form the moment Aemond spoke again. After you gave him a short nod, he began.

He laid his clasped hands atop the diaries, then separated them to grip the edges of the table on either side of the journals, then finally deciding to keep one hand on his diary while the other picked up his quill pen, which he began to fiddle with restlessly.

“I, um… I should like to start by thanking you for reading this,” he said, his voice less sure than you were used to. He did not meet your gaze, instead looking straight down at the books before him. “And I wish to apologise – again. First, for being so incompetent that this was the only way I could express my feelings, and secondly, for the admittedly humiliating things you read.”

“Aemond,” you interrupted before he could continue. When he looked at you in near panic, you scoffed and shook your head slightly. “If you apologise to me again, I might scream.”

He looked shocked by your words, then nodded gravely. “I did not realise how often I was doing so. I ap… shit, no.” He shut his eye and heaved a great sigh. “I will endeavour to do so less in the future, though I cannot promise I will not have to, on occasion.” The corner of his mouth quirked in the shadow of a smile as he winced slightly. “We both know how often I have cause to.”

“That is acceptable,” you whispered, “thank you.”

Both of you smiled at each other, your gazes locked. The moment lingering a bit longer than it would have with a stranger or even a friend. Then Aemond turned back to the diaries and frowned.

“I don’t quite know…” he trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “Forgive me, but my first reply to your notes was to be an apology for the careless and mean-spirited remarks I made about the merits of embroidery. I don’t know what to say if I am forbidden to apologise.”

You blinked, unsure of what to say. Yet it pleased you greatly that he was taking your request that he stop apologising so seriously.

Aemond did not wait for you to give him an answer, speaking with both urgency and sincerity. “It was thoughtless of me to write what I did. I was exhausted by the day and unhappy with how my grandsire chose to conduct my betrothal and marriage. And admittedly, I know little about the craft, and therefore underestimated it.”

“I am touched by your words,” you whispered, flustered by the intensity with which he regarded you, as if whatever you said next held the power to either destroy him or build him higher. “Perhaps, instead of apologising, you could tell me how you intend to make amends?”

“Of course,” his face lit up when he realised you were not upset with him. “I… I will learn more about embroidery so that I may truly appreciate it. Could… would you be willing to teach me?”

Based on the moment of panic that you saw come over him, you knew your shock at the request was rather poorly concealed. Bashfully, Aemond looked away. “After seeing the beautiful things that you have created – or I assume you have, as they were in your rooms, and depicted your home and interests – I truly wish to understand how they are made.”

Gods, he was serious. He truly wanted you to teach him how to create embroidery! The very idea was so amusing you could not hide your smile. “That is a wonderful solution, Aemond,” you said with all the reassurance you could muster. “I look forward to seeing what beautiful things you will make.”

“Oh, I am certain that compared to you… I mean, your own works, my attempts will seem quite poor. Laughable, even.”

“Well, I have had many years of practice,” you replied, “and a true love of the craft. It gives me an advantage over you. Although having seen you fight, I believe you have great potential as an embroiderer.”

Aemond’s head tilted slightly. “I don’t understand how the two skills correlate.”

“You fight with precision,” you explained, feeling yourself flush at the memory of him in the training yard. “Your movements are controlled and exact. The same skills are required in embroidery.”

“Then perhaps learning embroidery will further improve my fighting skills,” he said, almost jokingly. But any hint of a smile faded quickly, and he ducked his head, looking up at you as he continued. “I… I would like it if you could continue to come and watch me. When I practice. Not every day if you don’t want to, but every few days? Only if it would interest you, of course.”

“It would interest me very much!” you said, probably too quickly. But you had thought about Aemond wielding his sword so many times in the days since you actually saw him, and you were eager to see it again – and more of it. Up close, preferably.

He blushed again, though he reined it in much faster this time and resumed his cool, almost bureaucratic demeanour. “As for your list of books – some I have read, some I have heard of, and others I know nothing about. I would like to sit down with you and discuss them all. We could do that now, if you’d like?”

“I appreciate the thought, but today, I think we have more important things to discuss?” Indeed, you hadn’t anticipated this much discussion. You hadn’t even thought he would want you to remain with him while he read. But here you sat, not in your own rooms, in a carriage on your way home, or – as you had half-hoped for – in a bed.

Every moment you spent with Aemond was another agonising moment you spent not knowing what would happen between you. You were so eager for an answer – a conclusion.

But it was only fair that Aemond be allowed to respond to your comments and questions, so you bit your lip and prepared for more. After all, your husband was quite thorough. That much was clear from his research.

“Indeed we do,” he said as he flipped over a page of his diary. “I would be more than happy to take you to the Grand Sept. The family attend service there instead of the Royal Sept at least once per moon turn, but we can certainly go sooner if you prefer. It wouldn’t have to be for a service. We could just… go.”

“Choose a day,” you said, “and I will be with you.”

“I can’t wait for you to see it,” Aemond said with a smile. “It is truly…”

“Grand?” you offered.

“Yes, it has been named well,” his smile grew wider. “I am beginning to think that I, too, need to create a list of all the times you’ve made me laugh.”

You cocked your head, perplexed. “But… you didn’t laugh.”

“Oh, um…” Aemond looked away and grimaced, tapping his pen against his diary several times. “I don’t, often, laugh. Not aloud, at least.” After a deep inhale, he faced you again. “I assure you though, I felt like laughing! But I will try to do so in future, so it will be easier to know when I am amused.”

“No, Aemond,” you chided softly. “I don’t want you to change yourself for me. Now that I know what you look like when you ‘feel like laughing,” I will be able to recognise it. And, based on how extensive my list was, I believe I will laugh aloud enough for the both of us.”

He flipped to the page where you had made your list – throughout reading his diary, you would often return and add onto it, until it took up most of the page. He stared at it for a long moment, running his fingers over the words as if he could feel them. “I am immensely glad to have made you laugh, for there is nothing I desire more than to see you happy.”

Heat spread over every inch of your skin as you flushed, both from his words and what you were about to say. “There is ‘nothing you desire more?’” You bit your lip as you pointed to his diary. “Some of your later entries suggest otherwise.”

Aemond’s flush quickly grew to match your own. “I… there are things I desire nearly as much, but your happiness remains the greatest of them all.”

You both stayed there for a long moment, blushing and smiling at each other. All the while, you willed your racing heart to calm and your burning skin to cool. But beneath Aemond’s gaze, there was no hope for either. He looked at you with not only a lustful hunger but with admiration, longing, and a kind of reverence that made you at once bashful and confident.

If you stayed that way for much longer, you felt as though you would combust.

“I believe you skipped ahead a few entries,” you said. Even the whisper sounded like a shout in the silence that had descended upon you.

“Indeed I have,” he half-laughed, returning the diary to where he had left off. “My ap… I will begin again in the proper place. Please, inform me if I stray again?”

“I will,” you assured, nearly laughing yourself.

His eye lingered on you for a moment before he actually began again. “I wish I had danced with you all night,” he said, his smile fading as he looked at your next note morosely. “It had been my plan, actually. But as you read, I feared that if I remained so close to you, looking as radiant as you did, I would have done something untoward and inappropriate. Worse, I feared doing something you would not want.”

He would not meet your eye, but still, you spoke. “I admit, had you started ravishing me on the dancefloor, I likely would have reacted poorly,” you said with sombre humour. Aemond didn’t acknowledge it. “But I wanted to dance with you, talk to you. To begin to understand the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life.”

Aemond pursed his lips, his lone eye blinking furiously.

“If you had kissed me then,” you continued, though you doubted it was a good idea, “I would have welcomed it.”

You swore you saw a flash of tears in his eye before hanging his head so low his face was hidden. “I swear to you that, from this moment on, I will dance with you whenever you want,” Aemond whispered, his voice low and crackling with emotion, “wherever we are, and whether we have music to accompany us or simply the rhythm of our own hearts.”

He raised his head to face you, his eye flicking back to the diary once before again fixing on you. “I also swear that you will never again fall asleep without my first wishing you goodnight. Even if we are parted and far from each other, I shall wish it upon the wind and pray that it carries my words to you.”

The vows settled on your heart with more weight and meaning than those he had sworn to you in the Sept. For these were not of words written by a Septon long ago and repeated by countless men and women in their own marriages. These vows were not shared – they were only for you.

It would only be proper for you to swear your own vows in return, but you did not know what to swear. Despite having read his diary, you did not know him so well as he knew you. Guilt threatened to overwhelm you, and you could only say a quiet thanks before signalling for him to continue.

You were silent for a while, offering only small smiles and nods as Aemond promised to not damage his finely made diary any further, told you that your wedding presents were being catalogued in the Royal Vault and would be returned to you soon, and that he had confirmed with Lord Jasper that Coryanne Wylde – his ancestor – was indeed the author of ‘A Caution for Young Girls.”

With each of his explanations, you only gave him half your focus, as the other half was occupied trying to figure out what you could swear to him. Perhaps that you would only ever wear nightclothes he found attractive?

For a moment, you were sure he could read your mind, as the moment after the thought came to you, he turned a page and began, “Your robe – ”

“What about it?” you asked, louder and more defensively than you originally intended.

Aemond stared at you, shocked by the sudden outburst. “I was going to say that I do not, in fact, hate it, I swear.”

“Oh,” you said, sinking slightly into your chair as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“It is a very fine robe, well made and quite beautiful,” he continued, graciously ignoring your current state. “It just… it is so large that I feel as though you are hiding, and I don’t ever want you to hide from me. Or even feel like you must. I never meant to offend something you hold so dear.”

“Oh,” you said again. After correcting your posture to something decidedly more ladylike, you took a deep breath and gave an explanation of your own. “I wasn’t hiding, I promise. But that robe is one of the few things that makes me feel…” you struggled to find the right word. “Safe.”

Aemond’s face blanched, and while his eye hardened, his brow raised in concern. “The Red Keep – and the Holdfast especially – is the safest place in the realm, perhaps the world. No harm will come to you, I swear. I will – ”

You held up a hand to stop him, and despite his furore, he quieted at your command. “That’s not what I mean by ‘safe,’ Aemond.”

“Then I am afraid I don’t understand.”

With a sigh, you looked up at the ceiling, searching for a way to explain the complex feeling. “I don’t mean ‘safe’ in a physical way. I don’t fear that I will be harmed or killed. I mean safe in a… in my heart. Perhaps my soul too.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, but he said nothing, so you continued. “Since my family has left, I have felt very alone – painfully so. I hardly know anyone here, nor do they know me.” At that, your husband seemed ready to protest, but you did not let him. “From reading your diary, I do believe you know me. Better than I would have ever thought in the short time we have known each other. But even then, I have seen you so little, and spoken to you even less.”

He nodded, “Another failing I must atone for.”

“Well, I suppose I could have approached you myself. But after our wedding night…” Aemond flinched at the reminder but remained silent. “I was confused. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t quite that. And I know some of it is my fault! Please don’t blame yourself entirely. Still, you never spoke to me, not at court or at dinners. You never asked to see me or even escort me back to my rooms after dinner. I thought I had disappointed you, but I could not summon the courage to ask you how.”

“I never meant to abandon you,” Aemond murmured, “I just didn’t want to frighten you further. I was trying to – ”

“I know,” you smiled, inclining your head toward the diaries. “I understand now. But my understanding does not mean that I do not wish we had both made different choices.”

“As you said in your apology,” he said, almost to himself. Silence fell over you as he turned the page and traced his finger over your words again. “The robe is your reminder of home, where you are safe and loved, not scared and dreading the life ahead of you.”

“Yes.”

“And in my idiocy, I took that from you.”

“It was a shared idiocy,” you mused, grateful when Aemond’s tense shoulders dropped at your forgiving tone. “You were very kind to me that day, and yet I took the first opportunity to assume the worst of you.”

“I am afraid I gave you ample cause to assume the worst of me.”

“Maybe so, but I won’t do it anymore,” you felt meek saying the words, like a child promising their parents to stop misbehaving.

But then Aemond smiled, his cheeks tinged with colour again, and under his warm gaze, you felt… safe. “And I will not give you any more cause to.”

You smiled back, holding a girlish giggle, the origin of which was unknown to you.

“That reminds me,” Aemond said with a wicked grin. He tapped your open diary once, twice. “I like it when you scrunch your nose because of the delicious contradiction. Such an unpleasant expression upon the loveliest of faces.”

You pouted, then immediately realised your mistake when his grin grew wider and moved to cover your now-scrunched nose with your hands. Aemond only laughed at your embarrassment. “I cannot decide whether that is a compliment or not,” you said, causing another round of laughter.

“I assure you, it is meant entirely as a compliment,” he assured, still coming down from his amusement. He took a deep breath and then went still. “None could ever insult your appearance, for they could find no faults. And if they did… I would assure they were properly punished.”

Your flush was so great you could feel its heat when you dropped your head into your hands. “I suppose I should ask, how fares the painter who made my miniature?”

Another grin, this one positively lupine. “He has not been harmed, but I doubt he will ever again be commissioned by the noble families. If he does not flee across the Narrow Sea, he will be fortunate to find any amongst the smallfolk who can pay him more than a silver piece for his work..”

Such a severe punishment, just for a painting that had not shown your beauty? You didn’t know whether to be horrified or flattered. Or impressed that he held such influence. Judging by the fluttering feeling that filled your chest, you knew you were flattered more than anything. And the look on Aemond’s face, a look of pure confidence and power, stirred such powerful desire within you that you had to grip the arms of your chair to stop yourself from planting yourself on his lap – precisely as he had written about.

Your hands remained clutched to the chair as Aemond told you that he would be more than happy to study Valyrian history with you, and that he did not pick all the dog roses from the garden, for those he left were promptly collected by the Maesters. He expressed his desire to visit your home, but with the caveat that you would protect him from your brothers. And he assured you that he would not take a vow of silence so that you could hear his voice whenever you wanted.

Finally, he came to your last reply.

He read it again, silently, and slower than you would have liked. Then, he faced you but kept his eye focused on the wall past your shoulder. “I do not know if this is correct,” he said, almost bashfully. “But, I find myself… glad? That you missed me. That you worried for me. I did not know you cared for me that much, or that you cared for me at all.”

“Honestly? Neither did I. Not until that night.” You reached across the table – a short distance which yet felt like the length of the world – and took Aemond’s hand. He gasped, and his hand twitched, but then he sighed in relief. It was almost like the sound he had made when he released his seed within you. The very thought of it made you tighten your grip. “But I do care about you, Aemond... husband.”

To what extent you did not know. But you were very close to finding out.

You did not know how long you stayed there, holding hands and saying nothing. Minutes, perhaps. Or hours. In either case, the sun was still up when Aemond suddenly dropped your hand and stood.

“There is… there is something else I should show you,” he said, stumbling over his words as he had the first few times he actually spoke to you. “If you truly want to know me.”

Though you felt a tinge of apprehension at his vague words and that you could not imagine what else there was for him to show you after giving you his diary. Still, you nodded. “I do – want to know you.”

He stood, his back rigid as he extended a hand toward you. “Come, I will call a wheelhouse to take us.”

“A wheelhouse? Where are we going?”

“To the edge of the Kingswood.” At the look of confusion on your face, he clarified, “It is where Vhagar resides.”

“Vhagar? Your dragon?” You took his hand and let him pull you up, your shock at his request momentarily replaced by the strength you felt in the motion – the same strength that had enraptured you in the training yard.

“Well, she is not my dragon,” he clarified. “It doesn’t work like that. There is no ownership one way or the other. It’s more like… a partnership. I am her rider, and she is my mount.”

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts as Aemond began to lead you – still holding your hand – out of his rooms. He whispered briefly to the first guard you saw, who immediately ran toward the stables. When you were alone, he turned to you. “It… might be cool. Would you like to fetch a cloak from your rooms?”

You did, and you didn’t. While you didn’t want to endure the cold, you couldn’t help but think about what would happen if you felt cold and didn’t have a cloak. Would Aemond offer you his or perhaps invite you to share his?

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “I would like that.”

He smiled and led you back to your rooms. So far from his own, yet with him leading you, the distance seemed to pass far faster than when you ran to him earlier that day.

Aemond stopped when you came to your door, lingering for a moment. “Would you… should I come in?” He turned to you with pleading eyes that you could tell he was trying to conceal. “I can remain outside if you wish it.”

He moved to drop your hand, but you held firm. “I would like you to come inside,” you said. “You know better than I what I will need, so I should like your assistance in selecting a cloak.”

Aemond gave you his fish look again, utterly dumbfounded. As if going into your dressing room was somehow more intimate than him fucking you. Fortunately, he regained his composure quickly and bowed his head. “Of course, whatever you wish.”

He opened the door and allowed you to lead him inside, past the couch where he had given you flowers, past the bedchamber where you had lain together, and into your dressing room. When you turned back to him, he was looking around as if he were just led into a room full of grand tapestries and works of art rather than clothes and shoes.

“What is it, Aemond?” you asked, suddenly worried that he may have seen something that offended him.

“It is just…” he laughed lightly before looking back to you, “I didn’t think anyone could actually fill their dressing room – especially not one this large.”

Though he smiled, you were yet filled with worry. “I promise I am not vain!” you pled, holding his hand to your chest. “My mother believes that a lady should always… and since I was to marry a prince, she – ”

You were silenced when Aemond pressed a kiss to your joined hands. “You have married a prince, and he does not think you vain, I swear. Actually, he is rather excited to see how beautiful you look in each and every item here.”

For a moment, you strongly considered leading him into the bedroom and leaving Vhagar for another day. But you had other plans for how you wanted that reunion to go. So, you reluctantly dropped his hand and pointed to the room’s far corner. “The cloaks are over there.”

Being a royal bride and one of only two daughters of a wealthy house meant that your trousseau was extraordinary. As such, you had more than a dozen cloaks, at least one for every colour of the rainbow.

Aemond went first to a black cloak – your warmest. While its wool was sparsely decorated, it was lined with the exquisite striped fur of a shadowcat. But after running his fingers once through the fur, Aemond pushed it aside.

He went next to a red cloak, intricately embroidered with gold and black dragonscale patterns (although the designs were somewhat abstract). It had been specially made when the match was announced, to honour the colours and sigil of your new house. But it, too, was rejected.

The green cloak – the one of dark emerald, not the light sage – was considered as well, longer than the other two. It was made from rich velvet and decorated with pearls. But Aemond let it behind, as well.

After quickly sorting through the next seven, he, at last, stopped to examine another. This one was made from a gentle pink jacquard, the pattern difficult to spot from a distance but absolutely lovely when near. The inside was lined with a light layer of undyed wool, and the edges with a thin strip of sable fur.

It was your favourite.

And it was the one Aemond chose.

“Wear this one,” he whispered as he brought it to you, holding it as though it was the most precious thing he’d ever held. “It suits you… very well.”

The flush on his cheeks gave you a rush of confidence, enough that you lifted your hair and turned around. Looking at Aemond over your shoulder, you dropped your eyes to the floor in a show of shyness. “Will you put it on me?”

Aemond’s gaze never left the skin of your exposed neck as he approached and laid the cloak over you with the gentlest whisper of a touch. He was close enough that you could hear his breathing quicken and feel the heat roiling off him. After the excessive amount of time he spent assuring that the cloak fell correctly, he finally stepped in front of you to fasten the front.

He tried, so very hard, to not look at your face as he did. But you caught every time his eye looked up at you – your eyes, your cheeks, your lips.

Kiss me, you willed silently, not yet brave enough to ask for it aloud.

The wish went unfulfilled. Once he had fastened the twin brooches of your cloak, Aemond smoothed it over once more, then offered you his hand. “The wheelhouse will be waiting for us,” he said.

You took his hand and let him lead you away.

The journey to the edge of the Kingswood passed quickly, the time filled with idle conversation about the city as you raced past it. You had questions about every statue, alleyway, and building; for the most part, Aemond had answers. The city’s history was inexorably tied to House Targaryen, and so he had taken it upon himself to learn everything there was to know about it.

It was enough to soothe your fears about meeting the largest dragon in the world. Until that is, you passed through the city gates, and the Kingswood appeared on the horizon.

“Why does Vhagar live in the forest?” you asked, peering through the curtains of the wheelhouse. “Why does she not live in the Dragonpit with the others?”

Aemond raised his brows proudly, “She has grown so large that she can no longer fit in the Dragonpit.”

The very idea was at once awesome and terrifying. You had seen the Dragonpit in the distance from your windows at the Red Keep and some dragons flying around it. That Vhagar could not even fit inside…

“So Maegor did not build it large enough? Even when he rode Balerion?”

“Well,” Aemond shrugged. “She could fit in the Dragonpit if it was necessary. But it would not be comfortable. It would stifle her. I do not want that.”

Just as he did not want you to be alone and trapped in the castle – enough that he would set you free of it if you asked. “You care for her very much, then?”

“I do, yes,” he answered, his eyes becoming contemplative while his lips still curled in a smile. “She is… I have told you that the relationship between dragon and rider is like a partnership, yes?”

“You have, yes.”

“It means that there must be understanding between the pair,” he explained. “Common ground, or even a shared soul. I know it may seem illogical or insane, but Vhagar understands me. She cannot speak it, but I know that she does. For most of my life, it has felt like she is the only one…” he trailed off as his eye came to rest once more upon you.

Until you, you could hear the words as well as if he had shouted them. Rather than a pit of fear, it created a warmth within you. Aemond understood you, and you were beginning to feel as if you understood him as well.

“Then I very much look forward to meeting her,” you replied. It was the truth, though you still possessed a healthy tinge of fear at meeting a dragon said to be now larger than Balerion had been during the conquest.

Aemond lifted the curtain from his window and looked back at you with an eager grin. “You will not have to wait much longer, my dear. We have arrived.”

When the porter opened the wheelhouse door, Aemond lept out. But you remained frozen in your seat. Had he not realised what he had just said?

“My dear.”

It has been said with such ease as though it was something he called you often. But that was the first time. Those two simple words had struck you like a thunderbolt and left you feeling as though you had run the distance from the castle for how fast your heart was racing.

After a moment, Aemond reappeared at the door, his arm extended to you. “Come,” he bade. “There is no reason to fear. She will not hurt you.”

You almost laughed at his misinterpretation of your state, but not wanting to explain the truth of it, you merely stood and took his arm. “Forgive me, but meeting a dragon is not an experience granted to many.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, squeezing your arm and pulling you closer to him. “There never has been.”

“None of that now,” you begged. “That is all behind us. Let us just enjoy our new present.” You turned away from him, ending any argument he may have put forward.

You were expecting to be greeted by the sight of the great Vhagar, but all that was before you was the forest’s edge. A clearing of sorts, where the ground was tamped thoroughly flat, and nearly all the trees were missing their tips.

“Where is she?” you asked, surprised to find yourself disappointed that she was not there.

Aemond gently dropped your arm and stepped forward. “She must be off hunting. I will call her.” He walked to the edge of the clearing, then raised his hand to his lips and whistled louder than you had ever imagined a person could. “Vhagar! Māzīs va nykēlā !”

The forest fell silent once more, but he did not move to call again.

“Was that Valyrian?” You moved closer to him, but not all the way into the clearing. “The words you just said. ”

He turned back to you with an amused smile. “It was. It means ‘Come to me.’ That is how I call her back when she is away.”

You came even closer to him, your curiosity getting the better of you, until he was only a step ahead. “And she can hear you? Even if she is all the way across the Kingswood?”

“She can hear me if she is near enough,” he said as he held out his hand for you to take, “but the calling is more than just words. She can sense that I want her to come to me, even if she can’t hear me.”

“That is – ”

You were cut off by the loudest sound you had ever heard. A roar which seemed to shake the very foundation of the earth and the thunderous pounding of wings. Gods, how large were her wings to make such a sound?

Without realising it, you had thrown yourself into Aemond’s arms. Your face was pressed to his chest while your hands gripped the leather of his coat. He did not laugh or push you away. Of course he didn’t. He only wrapped his arms around you and whispered soothing reassurances.

It was so warm in his arms, and with the music of his calm, steady voice, you could have easily fallen asleep then and there.

That is, if the wingbeats weren’t coming nearer.

As the sound of them grew overwhelming, then stopped, you allowed Aemond to turn you to face none other than Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons.

She was enormous.

Her body filled the clearing entirely, her tail snaking through the trees beyond until the end of it – some 100 feet away- wrapped around the broad trunk of a great oak. You followed the tail up, over aged green scales that climbed higher and higher until you were looking at a torso taller than the two-story cottage your grandmother lived in. And though her wings were tucked in to allow her to fit in the clearing, you could easily guess that they measured even longer than her body when extended.

Even her head was so large that you had to turn your neck up to see her eyes – bright orange eyes that glowed like a roaring fire as they looked down upon you. Her lip curled as she rumbled a low growl, revealing teeth as long as your forearm, and you stepped back into Aemond’s chest.

“Lykirī, Vhagar,” he commanded, wrapping one arm protectively around your waist. “Dohaeras.” You could feel his hair shift against your back as he turned his head to look at you. “Ziry ñuhon ābrazȳrys issa.”

Vhagar ended her growl but continued baring her teeth as she tilted her head to better examine you. After a moment, she narrowed her eyes at Aemond.

“Ziry sepār nyke izūgilen issa daor,” he said with a distinctly reassuring tone. “Nyke jorrāelan zirȳla. Olvie nyke jorrāelan zirȳla.”

Finally, the dragon hid her terrifying teeth and, with a huff of steam from her nostrils, extended her neck to come closer to you.

“Aemond…” you whispered, near cowering as Vhagar came close enough for you to smell the brimstone on her breath.

“It’s alright,” he replied. His lithe fingers began to trace lines up and down your sides. Whether it was as a distraction or a comfort, you did not know. “She just wants to get your scent, so she can know you better.”

You tried to calm yourself, not wanting Vhagar to smell your fear – if that was something a dragon could smell. When she finally brought her snout almost to touching you before sniffing, each inhale sucking all the heat out of the air around you. After a moment, she withdrew slightly and made a noise that, had you not been merely thankful she hadn’t eaten you, you would have described it as a purr.

“She likes you,” Aemond said into your ear, pride dripping from each word. “She likes you very much. Would you like to pet her?”

A nervous laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “You want me to pet a dragon? Like she is a dog.”

“She enjoys it, I promise.” He lifted his hand from your side to take yours and guided it to the scales between her nostrils. “This is her favourite place. That’s it. You don’t have to scratch, just stroke her scales – be sure to follow their natural direction. She won’t like it if you tug on them.”

Vhagar continued to purr as you stroked her scales, only making contact with the downward motion. Your smile grew so wide your cheeks ached, and you could not help but laugh. “She’s like an old cat! A very big old cat.”

Aemond laughed with you, again hugging you to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Be glad she can’t understand you, for she is a very grumpy big old cat.”

“I feel almost foolish to have been afraid,” you confessed as you ever so slightly bumped your head against his.

“We like to keep people – most people – afraid of the dragons. It makes them a more effective deterrent.” He nuzzled into you and sighed happily. “But I am glad you are not afraid. Would you like to ride her?”

“What?” You froze, looking up at Vhagar’s saddle high above you and the sky even higher still. “I, uh…”

Aemond shushed your frantic attempt to find words. “If you don’t want to, I won’t force you. It is a unique thrill to fly, but I understand it is not for everyone.”

You turned in his arms. “I would like to, eventually. But today, I believe I have already used all my bravery.”

Well, not all of it. But you only just had enough left to get you through your plans for the night, and you were determined to keep it.

“Then we shall return to the Keep,” he said, not a hint of disappointment on his face, “and wait for a day when your bravery has returned. It is approaching sunset, and I will be expected at dinner.”

You nodded, and Aemond said a farewell to Vhagar in Valyrian before leading you back to the wheelhouse. The two of you rode in comfortable silence back to the castle, until he again helped you out.

“I would like to come to dinner with you,” you told him as you walked through the doors of the Red Keep. “And then, after dinner, I would like you to wait an hour and then come to my rooms.”

Aemond blanched, then flushed, then let out a shaky exhale. “Of course,” he breathed, “whatever you want, my dear.”

When Aemond arrived in your chambers after dinner – during which he nearly jumped out of his chair each time you spoke or laid your hand on his thigh – you were sitting at the vanity, finishing with your hair. He puttered around in the solar for a moment before coming into the bedchamber, where he looked first to the bed and, upon not finding you there, began to glance around the rest of the room. When he finally turned your way, you met his eyes through the mirror and gave him an overly innocent grin as he took in your attire.

“I… what…?” His babbling continued for a moment before he quieted. For a long while, he just stared at you with an open mouth and a wide eye. He only composed himself again when you stood and approached him, stopping just before you were in arm’s reach of each other. “What are you wearing?”

“Don’t you like it?” You asked with a mischievous pout, glancing down to survey yourself. “You liked it well enough the first time you saw it.”

It took a moment for your words to sink in. You saw the moment he finally heard your words and immediately began to fumble over a reply. “Of course I like it! I more than like it, I adore it. You must know that I do. I just… why this?”

You took two steps forward, until you were close enough that Aemond had to look down to meet your eyes, and you had to look up to see his. Teasingly, you ran a hand over the neckline of your gown, across each pearl and jewel that adorned it. “I thought since you didn’t like my favourite nightclothes, I needed to find something else to entice you. This seemed a good option.”

Aemond murmured something so softly you couldn’t hear it, even as close as you were.

Another step had you standing chest to chest with your husband. You could feel him struggling to calm his breathing as he looked at you, entirely captivated and at your mercy.

Standing on your tiptoes so you could press your cheek to his, you took a moment to smile at the way his breath caught at the contact, and his hand hovered just above your waist, still unsure if he really could touch you. Then, you whispered gently in his ear, “I know you had plans to take this off me yourself, so I thought I’d give you the chance.”

Without giving him a moment to respond, you took several steps back to allow him the best possible view of your wedding gown.

Your maids had been perplexed when you asked that they retrieve it so you could wear it tonight, but they had not argued. Their only complaint was that it was not possible to replicate the braid from your wedding day in such a short amount of time. So, they simply arranged it as nicely as they could before the deadline you gave them and tucked each of the gold and pearl pins you had worn then back into the braids and curls.

With only a few minor differences, you looked precisely as you did on your wedding night.

But now you weren’t afraid of what Aemond would do. Now, you were eager to find out.

“I, uh…” he wrung his hands together as he stepped forward. “I believe we should begin with your hair.”

“Very well.” You flounced over to the vanity and retook your seat, watching him through the mirror as he cautiously approached.

He lifted a shaky hand and ran his hand slowly over the braids. “How do I begin?”

“Start by removing the pins, then brush out the braids.”

“And how many pins are there?”

“Forty-seven,” you answered smugly.

Aemond’s eyes went wide, “That many?”

“Why do you think it takes women so long to dress in the mornings? And undress at night?”

He laughed slightly, then took one of the pearl-tipped pearls between his fingers and gently pulled it out.

On your wedding day, you had thought the pins inordinately large. But seeing one in Aemond’s hands – his very large hands, they seemed miniscule.

“That’s one,” he said, depositing the pin on the surface of the vanity.

With each pin he removed, he kept count and laid each one in a perfectly straight line. But you could not be too amused by it, for each time you were, his hand would brush your neck, cup your head, or tangle into your hair. It had never felt like this when your maids tended to you.

Aemond was a dragon, and his touch was fire.

Each passing brush of his fingers burned within you, building into a raging fire or desire. By the time he finished, and laid the forty-seventh pin on the table, you were well flushed and practically panting. And as he looked to you for further direction, he could see it all. Your only consolation was that he looked as ragged as you.

“Now comb through the braids with your fingers to separate them,” you instructed. You did have a wide-toothed comb specifically meant for separating braids, but you were certainly not going to pass up the opportunity to have his hands in your hair again.

He reached for the first braid – the largest – and hooked his fingers into its base. “Please, tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know it.”

“Your confidence is all I need,” he laughed, and began to pull his hand away. The braid spilt past his fingers with an ease you had rarely been fortunate enough to see before. So did the next, and the next, until your hair was once more free to spill down your back.

“Now I brush it?” Aemond asked, reaching for the silver-backed brush on the vanity.

But you stood before he could reach it, turning to him and pushing him slightly away. “You did well enough with your fingers that brushing is unnecessary. And… I know you are eager.” You had felt the hard evidence of it against your back as he stood behind you.

“I am,” he said, “but there are other things I must do first.” He cupped your face gently, his thumb slowly swiping over your cheekbone. His eye was focused solely on your lips but filled with apprehension. And as you watched the slight pursing of his mouth, the tightening of his jaw, and the slightest furrow of his brow, you were confident that you understood exactly what he was thinking.

Funny, he had been reading your thoughts for so long. Now, it seemed you had finally caught up with him.

“You don’t have to ask,” you whispered. “You may kiss me – I want you to kiss me.”

There was a flash of elated surprise, followed by a moment of anxiety, fueled by his desperate desire that tonight not be like before. The last time he had done this, you had shied away from him, asked that he not do the one thing he had been most desperate to do.

You could read it all on his face as clearly as the words in his diary.

So, you decided to ease his anxieties yourself. Seizing the lapels of his doublet, you pulled him down to you and kissed him.

It was far from perfect. You had been overzealous and pulled him with too much force, causing your teeth to clash together as your lips connected.

Neither of you was deterred. Aemond’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you steady as he kissed, and kissed, and kissed you.

It was like you were dancing – he led, and you followed. When he pressed forward, you allowed him to do so, leaning back to give him the room he needed while still holding him close. When he softly urged your lips to part with his tongue, you offered no resistance. And when he slid one arm around your waist to pull you flush against him, you ran your hand up his chest and into his hair, tugging slightly as you tried to draw him ever closer.

At that, Aemond moaned.

Instinctively, you pulled back, breaking the kiss. It was probably due to end soon anyways – both of you were panting and out of breath.

“What happened?” he asked, his face flashing between confusion and hurt. “What did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong. I did!” You ran your hand out of his hair and held it up as though he could see the evidence upon it. “I hurt you; I apologise.”

Aemond smiled broadly and pulled you in for another kiss. “You did not hurt me,” he whispered when he pulled back. “I made that sound because I enjoyed it.”

“Oh!”

“I assure you,” he said as he guided your hand back into his hair, “you have my enthusiastic permission to continue.” Then he pulled you back in and kissed you again, and again, and again.

You decided that you very much liked kissing your husband, even when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. It was not the most pleasant of sensations for you but one you were willing to become accustomed to so long as it brought him pleasure.

It would have been very easy to stay like that all night, but you had endured putting this complicated gown on again for a reason – for Aemond.

So, with no minor difficulty, you pulled away from him, smiling when he moved to follow you.

“No, no,” you scolded playfully. “Before we continue, I insist you help me out of my dress.”

“Of course,” he answered, his voice nearly breaking with desperation. “Anything you ask of me, I will do.”

You turned slowly away from him and lifted your hair over one shoulder, exposing the lacing on the back of the gown. “Then I ask that you untie me, husband.”

He said nothing, but you felt him approach. Felt the heat of him just behind you and the ghost of his fingers at the base of your neck. You felt the light pressure as he gripped the white satin ribbon with one hand but not the other…

The other he wound around your waist to pull you closer, so that he could plant a chaste kiss against the side of your neck. You shivered at the sensation – the warmth slowly fading as he pulled back.

“I know we are both impatient,” he murmured against your skin, “but I want to savour this moment. Please, allow me to take my time.”

You raised an arm to draw him back to your lips. This kiss was not as hungry as the others. It was soft, sweet, and slow. “Take however long you need, Aemond. I am not going anywhere.”

And take his time he did. With every eyelet he unlaced, he kissed your neck again. As he lowered the sleeves one at a time, he kissed a path from your shoulder to your hands. When he untied your stockings, he rubbed the same soothing circles on your thighs that had once made you desperate for his touch.

Then suddenly, you were only in your shift, the chill of the night air prickling against your skin.

Aemond stood and began to fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. “If you don’t want… If you want to keep this on, I won’t mind.”

“I want this, I promise,” you guided his hand away from the sleeve and down toward the hem, ensuring he came quite close to the space between your thighs. “It’s easier to remove from the bottom.”

He seized the hem and lifted, before pressing his forehead to yours and kissing you again. “I love you. And I ask that you only say it back should you really, truly mean it. With all your heart.”

You knew he wanted to hear it, despite his words. His eye was too pleading, too filled with hope. And though you wanted to say it, just to make him happy, you couldn’t. Not will all your heart, at least. Aemond deserved for it to be true.

So instead, you kissed him, lacing your fingers with his to finally remove the shift and bare yourself to him.

If he minded the diversion, he did not say. In fact, given that you then watched his eye dilate as he looked down at your body, you were fairly confident that he didn’t mind at all. And you were very confident that he loved your breasts, as they were where his gaze always returned to.

“May I…?” he asked breathlessly, his hand floating just above your heart. But at this moment, it was not your heart he wanted, but what lay just beneath it.

Aemond didn’t hesitate to cup your breast in his large hand, covering it completely. Though his touch was warm, your nipples went taut as he slowly massaged one breast, then the other. He tested several different ways of holding them, of applying pressure to them, and even experimented with pinching your peaked nipples – for which you quickly put a limit on how tightly he could do so.

After a moment, he licked his lips and looked up at you for permission. A nod was all he needed to bend down and take your breast into his mouth, laying sloppy kisses all over their surface before rolling his tongue lazily over your nipples.

You had enjoyed all his ministration thus far, but that?

That had your head lolling back as you moaned his name, a moan you were not given the chance to finish before his mouth was again on yours – possessive and wanting.

“Get on the bed,” he panted, a far more passionate entreaty than it had been on your wedding night, and you were far more confident.

You resisted his attempts to pull you closer to the bed, and when he leaned in to try and ply you with more kisses, you countered by nipping the tip of his nose – lightly, but hard enough to get his attention.

“Please,” he begged, ‘please get on the bed.”

“I will, Aemond.” He whined at the breathy way you said his name, tightening his grip on your hips. “First, let me remove your clothes.”

His eye was so dilated you could hardly see any purple and more than half-lidded with lust, but he obeyed, taking a single step away after giving your soft flesh a little squeeze. “Start with the belt, then the doublet, then – ”

“I am fairly confident I can figure out how to remove your clothes,” you teased. Though it soon became clear your confidence was unfounded.

Just undoing the knot on his belt took far longer than you expected. He only laughed when you frustratedly asked why he needed to knot his belt when it already had a perfectly good buckle. Fortunately, the buckles on his doublet were far simpler, though they were small enough to still delay you.

When at last you were able to throw the damned doublet and belt aside, you took your frustrations out on his neck, kissing it with such enthusiasm that you nearly pushed him over. After that display of lust, Aemond was quick to assist you with his shirt and trousers.

The moment he was as bare as you, he tried to pull you onto the bed, but again, you resisted. You had only once seen him nude, but you had not been in the mood to admire his form then. Now, you were mesmerised by the sight before you.

A long neck leading to powerful shoulders, long arms that ended in long fingers, a long, lithe torso with many divots you longed to explore, and long, slender legs corded with muscle. Every single part of him was long. Especially…

“In your diagrams, you only included the female anatomy,” you mused as you approached him, eyes locked on his flushed, hard cock. “I feel I am at a significant disadvantage, since I don’t know – ” You shrieked as Aemond grabbed you by the waist and carried you to the bed, depositing you squarely in the middle before crawling over you and peppering your face with tender kisses.

“Believe me, it is far simpler with men,” he laughed as he descended down your chest. “I doubt you will need any formal instruction.”

Formulating a witty enough response was nearly impossible as he trailed his mouth down and down. Between your breasts, over your stomach, and then –

Then nothing. Aemond sat between your spread legs, lifting your hips to rest slightly on his knees. The grin he flashed was nothing short of pure evil. He held your gaze as he took his thumb briefly into your mouth before bringing it down to that little button at the top of your sex, only long enough to bring you a moment of pleasure before he slipped it further down to part your slick folds.

“Gods,” he sighed, swiping his thumb over your entrance to collect as much fluid as he could before bringing it back to circle your pearl agonisingly slowly. “I’d hoped you’d be wet, but… I never expected this.”

You bucked your hips, trying to get him to go faster, press harder, something. Until now, you had only ever had the briefest tastes of pleasure, but now you craved more. You craved him.

“Please, Aemond!” you squealed as he finally pressed his thumb down harder.

“Give me a moment, my dear,” he said smugly. “I thought it would take longer to get you to this point. I’m having to reassess my plan.”

“Fuck your plan!” you shouted, more helplessly than you intended, judging by Aemond’s answering laugh. “Please, just do something – anything!”

“I am doing something!” he countered, emphasising his point by quickening his movements. “And it looks to me as though you’re enjoying it.”

Damn it, you were. But still, it wasn’t enough. You squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back against the pillow, moaning incoherently.

“Oh, my poor darling,” Aemond cooed, “you really are desperate, aren’t you?”

You felt tears prickle in your eyes as you nodded furiously, only managing to again say “please.”

He slowed his thumb to a stop and crawled back over you, until your faces were level. “Open your eyes, love.” You obeyed, and were rewarded with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Good girl. I’m going to give you more now, but you must promise that if it hurts or if it gets to be too much, you must tell me. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you squeaked pathetically.

Aemond kissed you one last time before he retook his position between your legs, once more gathering your slick on his pointer finger before slowly – so, so slowly – pushing it inside you. It was a different feeling from his cock; not quite as pleasurable, but the discomfort on entry was far less.

“Is that alright?” he asked, and you nodded. “I’m going to move it now. Please tell me when I’ve found the correct spot.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he crooked his finger and found that ‘spot.’ The one he wrote about in his diary, the one that brought nearly the same pleasure as your pearl.

Aemond’s studying has undoubtedly paid off.

Your back arched so dramatically that he had to anchor you to the bed with his free hand on your hip. “There it is,” he crooned, utterly prideful, “do you want me to keep going?” You answered with a slew of yeses that blended into a happy hissing sound, then turned into a loud moan as he inserted another finger into you, crooking it along with the other to massage that magical little spot. “You’re doing so well, my love.”

You were too engulfed in your pleasure that you hardly even noticed the new term of endearment. All you knew was his fingers inside you, stoking a fire that burned brighter, brighter, brighter.

Everything felt hot, and soon a sheen of sweat covered your skin. You took a deep breath, angling your hips almost unconsciously, but in a way that somehow heightened your pleasure enough for your body to shake. There was tension in every muscle, a delightful tension that had you clenching your fists in the sheets and curling your toes to try and relieve. It built and built, focusing on where Aemond was touching you, where his fingers went in and out and pressed and stroked.

It was too much. Your body couldn’t possibly endure this. This was where you had always stopped when you were exploring on your own – this was past that point, and Aemond was only taking you further and further.

“Aemond, please,” you begged. What for, you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to stop, but you were afraid to discover what would happen next.

He sped his movements, watching your face with a heart-stopping intensity in his eye. “Don’t hold it in, love,” he said, splaying his free hand across your stomach. “Give into it, let it go, release.”

The word may well have been a command, for the moment he finished speaking, you let go. Lightning coursed through you, and all your limbs froze and went numb for a moment that felt like it lasted a whole year. The tension dissipated, and all of a sudden you could breathe again, feel again, think again.

“Was that…?”

Aemond’s thumb stroked your belly, the delicate touch making you realise that he had removed his fingers from you and now held them just before his lips. “It was your peak, my love.” Never looking away from you, he took the fingers that were inside you into his mouth, sucking on them as if they were the sweetest candied lemons. “Forgive me, but I think I’d like another.”

It happened so quickly. One moment, he was kneeling between your legs. The next, Aemond had pushed you further up the bed so he could lay on his stomach and drape your legs over his shoulders, his hands holding your rear as he pulled you up until your cunt was pressed to his mouth.

Your hands flew into his hair, simultaneously tugging at it and yet trying to pull him closer. His tongue was surely some kind of miracle. How else would it feel so wonderful as he licked up every drop of moisture between your thighs before pressing into your core?

More miraculous still was his nose, for every time he pushed deeper, it pressed against your pearl, rubbed against it each time he angled his head. He quickly noticed what, exactly, was driving you wild, and took to shaking his head back and forth to make you scream – and scream you did.

“Gods, Aemond, please!” You cried as the delicious tension returned, still crackling with electricity. This was far more intense than his fingers had been, and far faster to take you to that place where you had nearly no control over your own body.

Nearly no control. Some instinct deep within you, which had no purpose but to seek animalistic pleasure, took hold of you. Your hand in his hair tightened so hard he again moaned, sending vibrations through you that nearly pushed you over the edge of your pleasure. But what finally sent you tumbling over was when he allowed you to pull him up until his lips latched around your pearl, and after several long, lingering licks of his tongue, he hummed, and you screamed anew.

When you opened your eyes again, Aemond was once more hovering above you, looking at you as though your reddened, sweaty face was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You were certain that guards would come streaming into the chambers at the sound, swords drawn, but none did. It was still only you and your husband. He seemed entirely content, but when you glanced down at his cock, you found it so flushed that you were sure it hurt.

“I should…” your voice faded as you reached down to touch the heavy length of him. “I don’t know how, but you could show me.”

Aemond smiled softly, his half-lidded eye seeming to glaze over for a moment. “Another time, I would like nothing more. But tonight…” He leaned down to press a slow, lust-filled kiss to your swollen lips and rested his forehead against yours when he finally withdrew. “Please don’t make me wait any longer, my love.”

Eagerly, you nodded. You were absolutely resolved to learn how to pleasure him – with your hands and mouth–. Still, it seemed a daunting task, and your body was aching to find out what Aemond could do once he was inside you.

So, you did not argue as he reached down to align himself with your entrance. But he did not yet push forward. Supporting himself with one arm, he gave you another short kiss and stroked your hair.

“I promise,” he whispered, “it will be better this time.”

You leaned into his touch and shifted your hips to try and draw him closer. When Aemond hesitated again, you looked into his eye and raised a hand to cup his cheek. “I know it will. Now please, I don’t want to wait either.”

Then he buried himself inside you in one powerful thrust.

There was still a slight pinch of uncomfortable pressure at the start, but it did not last long. And compared to the pleasure it brought you, it was entirely inconsequential. You felt full in the most wonderful way, as if you had been missing something your whole life and finally found it. Warm, like he had lit a fire within you that would burn for the rest of your days. Safe, as though nothing could ever harm you again.

You felt right.

During that moment of stillness, where you both adjusted to the feeling of joining, you buried your face in Aemond’s neck. There was nothing but him, his silver hair blocking the rest of the world from view as his scent enveloped you. Perhaps you could just stay like this forever. That was a delightful thought. You nuzzled further into him as you let out a sigh of contentment.

Aemond tensed and whispered your name. “Does it hurt? Did I not prepare you well enough?”

“No,” you replied, still not pulling away. As the desperate need for even more closeness began to well up in your chest, you wrapped the hand that was cupping his cheek around his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin for how tightly you held him. “It just… it feels – you feel amazing. I wish it had always felt like this.”

“It will now,” Aemond replied, turning to place a kiss atop your head. He, too, sought to bring you closer. He brought his hand down to your waist and pulled you up so that your chests met and moved together as you breathed together. “I promise it will always feel this good. Perhaps better, once we practice a little more.”

“Oh yes!” you squeaked, finally dropping your head back to the pillow so you could look at him. “Let’s do lots of practice!”

With a laugh, he raised his brows in mock questioning. “Might I suggest we start now?”

Words escaped you for a moment, and all you could do was nod vigorously, like a child that had just been offered a whole tray of cakes. Your agreement and excitement seemed to delight Aemond, causing him to smile so wide his eyes crinkled. You instantly decided that you wanted to see that smile every day. Every hour. Every minute. For that smile was brighter than the sun itself.

“Put your legs around me, love,” he instructed, curling his hand around your thigh to guide you. Once you were positioned exactly how he wanted you, he pulled himself slightly closer to the headboard and leaned in for one last kiss, stopping just above your lips. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed against him, “so very ready.”

Aemond stayed in your bed all night, continuing to pleasure you until it was all you could do to keep your eyes open. Then, he stroked your hair while assuring you he was not leaving, which did not calm your panic when he got out of bed. But he soon returned, carrying a carafe of water and a damp towel. He murmured praises in your ear as he cleaned you and then himself, and commanded that you drink at least one full glass of water before you fell asleep.

You obeyed and afterwards fell asleep tucked into his chest. The next morning, you did not remember your last words to your husband before you drifted off, but he certainly did.

“I’m sorry I can’t say I love you,” you’d whispered, only half-awake, “but if you give me some time, I’m sure I can.”

Those words echoed through his mind as he slept, dreaming of a life where he would not have to walk halfway across the castle to reach his separate rooms. Where he could sleep like this, with his arms around you, every night. Where when he told you he loved you, you would respond in kind.

A dream he hoped he could live very soon. But until then, he would give you all the time you needed.

Waking from that dream was nearly a nightmare in itself, until he looked over and saw you still in his arms, still fast asleep. Your hair was a mess, and your nose was scrunched as you dreamed, but he loved every bit of it. He told you as much when you finally awoke.

When you insisted on following him to his rooms so you could attend the morning meal together, he did not protest. He loved watching you look around each chamber, your mind racing as you imagined how you would decorate the blank walls. He loved that, too.

What he did not love was that when you walked into the dining room, hand in hand, Aegon instantly perked up in his chair. His eyes darted between you and Aemond with dizzying speed before he raised his brows and mouthed, “Did she come?”

Aemond only glared at him, but you smiled and nodded, then held up seven fingers.

Begrudgingly, he loved that, too.

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sebastianswallows · 3 months

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The Little Death — 12. To be taken over by power

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: fluff, angst, a bit of smut

— WORDCOUNT: 3.3k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs

One uses power by grasping it lightly. To grasp with too much force is to be taken over by power, thus becoming its victim.

— Bene Gesserit Axiom

She awoke feeling sore but satisfied. As her mind caught up with her body she realised it was because Feyd had slept on her all night. She opened her eyes to the pale light of the morning and a swath of black sheets tangled all across their bodies. He laid in her arms, his head over her chest, his arms around her waist, his legs curled up innocently. When she stretched and arched her back to put her blood in motion Feyd didn’t stir but his arm tightened around her waist and a hot puff of breath tickled her chest. His face had lost in sleep all of the meanness it had during the day... She smiled and brushed her thumb across the edge of his lips. His lashes fluttered and he grumbled, pouting like a child.

“Don’t wake up,” he mumbled. “I want to sleep some more.”

“But you’re not sleeping now, are you?”

“Then why am I having such a pleasant dream?”

“Do you tend to dream of me?” she giggled.

“Yes. Before I met you,” he answered with a little yawn before his mouth shut tight again and he tightened his arms around her.

She hadn’t had much time after their ‘playing’ with the Gom Jabbar last night to think of what his resistance said about him, although she had realised between shivers of excitement that his endurance was remarkable. She knew he loved pain and that served as an easy enough explanation, but perhaps there was a little more to her na-Baron.

“Since when?”

“A while,” he muttered, nuzzling into her chest. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I wasn’t going to…”

“Yes, well. You’re awfully curious about it.”

“It’s a curious thing, isn’t it?”

“I regret telling you,” he sighed with a sense of finality and she knew he’d say no more.

Her hand found a natural place to rest atop his head and she thought quietly about what he’d just said as she scraped gentle scratches on his scalp. He purred against her like a kitten and wrapped his soft, cold body around her, pushing the sheets away until he was all she felt.

She found herself quite languid that day from when they got out of bed all through to the evening. Feyd took her with him for a meeting with his mentats and drafted a few messages for Giedi Prime — although he asked her to leave the room for the last one, the one he wrote to his uncle — and before she knew it they were having dinner together again. She had almost forgotten all the bad memories associated with that room, that table... She sat closer to Feyd now and felt less fear about it, and what she had gained in calm he had gained in happiness. He smiled more often through the day, enough for her to catch it, and glanced toward her when he thought she wasn’t looking. His gaze was so heavy she could almost sense it on her skin.

“So what did you dream of?” she asked after she finished eating.

He looked at her and kept on chewing, jaw flexing quietly, and pretended not to understand what she meant. He wore softer clothes today — a black Harkonnen robe that covered his whole body and made him that much harder to read. He moved quite naturally in it, unusual for one so used to armour. She smiled at him but refused to indulge his pretence of ignorance.

“You know what I mean,” she said with fondness.

After a lingering glare, he turned his attention back to his plate and busied himself with eating, even if his plate was almost empty.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said at length.

“You’re shy…”

“So what if I am?”

Her smile grew gentler at his admission. It was a rare man who would admit to it without feeling ashamed, even if he sounded a bit defensive.

“I am allowed to be.”

“Yes, you are,” she said. “But I want to know anyway.”

“We all want things we can’t have.”

“Not you, though. Not the Governor of Arrakis.”

“Why not me?” he asked, turning his sharp eyes toward her.

“Well, what do you want?”

He pouted and turned to his plate again, swirling his knife around the leftovers.

She looked at him and kept looking for long moments. He had skilfully diverted the conversation from what she had asked to something else and yet both ends of the conversation were connected. He was being childish, one didn’t need to be a Bene Gesserit to know that. She asked herself what it was about his dreams, or about what they’d done last night, that had turned him so. The answer presented itself rather quickly.

She reached out the small distance and placed her hand on his. He stilled immediately, his grip limp and weak and dead beneath her touch. Gently she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles and brushed her fingers across his soft pale skin. Like a shadow his gaze came up to meet hers and in his eyes were pleas he did not dare voice out. Before long she had risen from her chair and sat in his lap, hands cupping his tense face to brush away the tears he couldn’t spill.

“What do you want, hmm?” she quietly asked, her whisper touching his skin.

Feyd closed his eyes and breathed a deep and heavy sigh, fighting against everything his uncle had probably told him about the Bene Gesserits, about women… The question itself had no purpose. She knew exactly what he wanted. But she wanted him to admit it to himself, to her, and set free those weak and traitorous emotions — longing, loneliness, and pain. What he wanted was both a mother and a lover, a figure in his life unlike any other, a vessel for all the care he had inside of him with nowhere left to spill. She brushed a finger across the dark circles underneath his eyes and traced down his face towards his lips. He was as open as a broken book, a battered gate, a hungry mouth to feed, and she would give him everything he wanted.

“Do you want me?” she asked with a knowing smile.

Feyd frowned, his pride still in the way of him admitting just how vulnerable she’d made him. It almost broke her heart.

“How do you want me?”

His hands left the edges of his seat to come around her waist and hold her. “In every way,” he muttered, opening his eyes but still not daring to look into hers.

“But you know I’m yours,” she said with a barely concealed tease in her voice.

“No, not like that. I…”

She cupped his jaw and let her finger linger on his lips in a way she knew would warm his blood. Feyd sighed and kissed her caressing hand and then his arms around her pulled her in until he could sink his face into her shoulder. She cupped the back of his head and held him.

“I want to be yours, too,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes, a thin sigh of relief escaping her, and she fought back a smile. “I know, I know,” she said with all the soothing she could muster, her hands petting the back of his skull.

“But you won’t have me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true…”

“Is that in your dreams as well?”

He didn’t answer. She kept on distractedly petting him, cuddling him while sitting on his lap and tried to decipher meanings from the way his breath fell on her skin and the tremble in his arms around her.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said.

They went to their shared room together and he sent the guards away before closing the doors behind them. She hugged him from behind while he undressed and laid her forehead on his back. Feyd paused with muted hope but kept his thoughts to himself. She’d come dangerously close to the core of him the night before, cracked him open with pleasure, with pain, and supped on the bitter centre. What she set in motion had the momentum to get her out of there, to save her from the desert planet and out of Harkonnen hands, if only she made sure to fan the flames aflutter in his heart.

“Don’t pretend,” he said, his voice low and sad. “Don’t pretend you care or that you like me.”

“Is it because I hurt you too much last night that you think that I don’t —”

“I just know it,” said Feyd as he stepped out of her arms.

Should she contradict him? Could she? He scared her when he gave in to his darker feelings. It made her feel like she lost control of him. But the prospect of him being wrong scared her even more… She walked toward the window and hugged herself, watching the night fall on Arrakis. Already he was slipping through her fingers and if she only closed her fist he’d slip much more. He was ruled by his emotions but it was a hard task to accept that she was a bit like that as well. He’d never properly grown up, and neither had she, and just like he wanted to escape the constraints of the Barony… She desperately wanted to get away, and knew he was her path toward it. As she frowned at her reflection in the thick shadowy glass his shape appeared behind her, a ghost through the dark. He hugged her from behind much as she had done before but he had shed his clothes by now and his naked arms curled up around her. He rested his head against her back.

“I want to tell you,” he started quietly, “but I know I shouldn’t. I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re dumb.”

“No, you don’t think much of me at all, do you?”

“That isn’t fair…” she said, turning in his arms to look at him. “You’re the one who always leaves me behind. Who has me walk out of the room. You don’t trust me —”

“Because you’re not trustworthy. You say you’re my Bene Gesserit and you let me do things to you that you despise, but deep down —”

“You have no idea what I really think and feel.”

“There it is,” he slowly rasped, his smooth brows casting shadows over his tired eyes. “You don’t think me capable of understanding.”

“No, I know you are very capable,” he said, her hands tightening around his arms. “You lasted an admirable amount of time with the box. Whether it’s because you were tested before or because you like pain, it doesn’t matter. It’s… more than anyone I’ve ever heard of. And your dreams... Your dreams come true, don’t they?”

Feyd pulled away from her as if he could hide in the shadow of the setting sun, but her hands still gripped him and his arms were still around her waist and even if he could have hidden he was all too clearly seen by her.

“Not all of them, I hope,” he muttered.

What is he afraid of? she asked herself. From the sad and worried look in his eyes and from the way he held her she could only guess it was a fear of loss. That was what he’d admitted to earlier, wasn’t it? He wanted to be hers. He feels rejected… Unwanted, she realised. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Sure, she’d given him everything he asked for, both the pleasure and the pain, but fulfilling his baser needs had only opened up his mind to what he really wanted: to belong.

Her grip tightened around his muscled arms and she leaned in to kiss him, but for some reason, she couldn’t. Feyd waited breathlessly for her to close the distance and she never did. The only way around him that she knew was to manipulate him, and she couldn’t do that anymore. Not to the young na-Baron with so lost a look in his blue eyes. She couldn’t pretend to love him, not even to save herself. So she let go of him, withdrew, and turned around. She barely took a step before he stopped her. He slid a finger through the lacing of her dress, pulled her back, and started to undo it.

“You know, I can’t help but respect you even when I hate you,” he whispered roughly. “You teach me new forms of pain each day we are together.”

She smiled to herself. “Do you prefer the type of pain from yesterday?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Frankly? Yes.”

She laughed and heard Feyd chuckling behind her, although there was a string of sadness there. His fingers worked quickly to undress her and he pulled her back into his body, their skin sticking to each other’s. His embrace didn’t last long before he took her hand and led her to the bed.

She let herself be guided, allowed him to take control in a way she hadn’t since she was a child in schooling, taught to move and breathe and think by the Proctor Superiors, only this time there was no design about it. She had nothing to learn, nothing to gain by obliging him, no motivation to pretend. She found herself sitting down before she even realised she’d crossed the room and her eyes searched for Feyd, finding him seated on the bed beside her. His gaze was focused on her neck, her lips, the way her hair fell around her shoulders, and slowly his hand trailed her back in something of a caress. She shivered and then his attention came to her eyes again.

His lips parted, pink and full and boyishly beautiful, but he changed his mind before he said a thing. She wondered what he’d been about to say but it was clear even without words: he was afraid of her, nervous that a wrong move or word misspoken would make her leave. He was overly cautious as he trailed his fingers down her back and curled them around her waist. She let him kiss her without any complaints or attempt at seduction and took the gentleness he offered. And she kept her eyes open throughout to look at his silky lashes, the tender pallor of his face, the way his brows would crease, and found herself admiring him for the first time ever — not for all his qualities, not for the carefully cultivated end results of centuries of breeding, but for his delicacy, his frailty, the way he seemed at times so breakable. She cupped his cheek and leaned into the kiss, surprising him into a moan. She felt his full lips curl and his tongue lap at her skin and then she pulled away. Feyd’s eyes were dark and drowsy, drunk with the closeness of her.

“What did you dream of?”

“You still want to talk about that?” he frowned, sounding quite betrayed.

“No, it’s not to know it. I just want to make it real.”

He bit his lip and sucked in a breath that trembled when he let it go, and around his eyes, she could see the crease of worry.

“I’ll tell you if —”

“No,” she said. “No more games, no transactions or conditional surrenders. Tell me only if you want to.”

He leaned in again and crushed his lips to hers, hands tightening around her waist to pull her body flush to his. Without a thought she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, knees brushing clumsily against his.

“I don’t want to tell you,” he whispered against her mouth, his eyes soft and pleading. “But I want it to be real…”

When he kissed her again he did it with a bit more pressure until she laid back down. Feyd held his body atop hers suspended without breathing, letting her hips go to thread his fingers through her hair. She grew drunk on his attention, the way he held her, the desperate way he kissed her, on how she could almost taste his thoughts. Her hands started feeling hot and itchy and she soothed them by brushing them across his skin. His thighs were softer than they had any right to be, his hips were lean and smooth, and she didn’t get to feel his body and higher because he started making his way down her own. He sucked the sweat off of her neck and tasted the murmur of her moans, he licked across her clavicles and nibbled on her bones, he placed sweet kisses on her breasts until her nipples rose... He smiled when his lips found them already erect and he opened his eyes to look cockily up at her.

She watched him breathlessly as he lavished attention on her body so transparently proud just to see her react to what he was doing. There was an animal simplicity to it that felt like a betrayal of everything she knew but once she saw him like that she couldn’t look away. However seductive his plush lips looked suckling on her nipple, however strong his body, stretched across her own, muscled, pale and gleaming like the statues of old, he was more than anything else dear to her because he was just a little boy. Needy and eager to please, playing with her the way his thoughtless heart dictated. She brought a hand up to his head and gently scratched his scalp and his lips parted from her breast to sigh. Eyes still closed he licked across her nipple, rolling it until it was lathered in his spit. A snake of fire coiled in her stomach. It made her squirm.

Feyd moaned into her flesh and his hands came to her thighs. She tensed up, remembering so many rough handlings — from both him and her — but he touched her as gently as if she were made of glass. And as his kisses moved between her breasts, over her heart, trailing down toward her tummy, he parted her thighs so softly that it made her shiver. He took his time brushing his cold hands across her skin, going higher and higher slowly enough that she could stop him if she wanted to. When his fingers reached her core he turned his playful eyes up at her and smirked. He held her gaze as he licked her stomach with a silent promise and trailed a finger through her folds to part them. She allowed herself to blush as she looked down at him, forgetting herself completely for a moment, living only through the softness of his lips, the sleek movements of his tongue, and the proud look in his eyes. Her first instinct was to question him, to dig into his ego and find out what he planned, but she quieted that part of her and waited.

“You’re this wet for me?” he murmured, his lips right above her mound. She could feel his breath tickle her where she was most sensitive. He sounded playful and proud and there was an expectation in his voice that was inescapable. She had to answer.

“Yes…”

He buried his face between her thighs but not before she saw how wide his smile was. His hand tightened on her leg and then she felt something brush up against her ankle. A pale blue eye looked up at her, gauging her reaction with hungry anticipation, and she realised it was Feyd showing off how hard he was as he rubbed his cock against her. Her nails curled up against his scalp halfway between a caress and a scratch and he giggled. He was being so sweet with her that she could almost fall in love.

“Come up here,” she whispered, her head tilted lazily against her shoulders, her hair a messy halo on the bed.

“Not yet,” he rasped, peppering little kisses up and down her thigh. “I’m going to taste you first.”

#Feyd #Feyd Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd Rautha #Dune #Dune part 2 #Dune fanfiction #Dune imagine #feyd rautha smut #Feyd Rautha x reader #Feyd x reader #Feyd Rautha fanfic #Feyd Rautha imagine #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;littledeath

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lily-fics-11 · 19 days

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I Can See You: Chapter 5 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

This took forever and I’m so sorry😭 Since I last updated, I took a trip to see my girlfriend and she came to see me too (if it seems like I’m in my lover girl era it’s because I am). I went on a trip to Disney (I am an extensive planner, I even made spreadsheets. I put my heart and soul into it) (I had to prep my body and mind as well, for spending that much time with my mother, also the Florida heat and tons of walking). I’ve done a bunch of babysitting and have been on the hunt for a full-time job! I missed writing and hope to get to do it much more often now!!!

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission.

Chapter 5

Ellie gets a little jealous when another girl shows interest in you. You share many sweet moments as she tries to spend every second with you that she can.

Word count: 4k

CW: *Ellie and reader are both 18* profanities, sexual innuendo/references, semi-intimate situations, mentions of drinking/smoking weed

You and Ellie spend the rest of the time before her practice kissing and planning dates. Neither of you can wait to share your dorky interests with the other.

Picking up your phone, while getting ready to leave, you see a text from Elise. It’s not about homework. You audibly groan and Ellie raises an eyebrow.

“I got a text from Elise,” you tell her and then read it out loud. “Are you going to Kyle’s Saturday night? I’m hoping to see you there.”

Ellie’s face scrunches up in disgust, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I told her to only text me for school stuff. I’m going to remind her,” You tell Ellie, then type out a text while reading it out loud.

“I'm happy to answer your questions about school work, but I’m not looking to be involved with you in the way I think that you want us to be. I’m your tutor now and that wouldn’t be appropriate.” Ellie laughs at that, you ignore the irony. “Also, I’m seeing a girl that I like a lot, you and I aren’t going to be anything more than friendly.”

“You tell her.” Ellie nods in approval, hyping you up. “That girl better watch herself. She might be disrespecting what you want on purpose, but she doesn’t know that she is disrespecting me too.”

Elise asks who you are seeing so you tell her that the girl goes to North, not someone she would know. Ellie laughs again, though somewhat maniacally this time.

Ellie hugs you while saying goodbye, holding your close, not letting you leave until she is satisfied. She kisses you softly, longingly, and the taste of her lips lingers on yours for a while after you have parted ways.

Ellie calls you that night, to check that no one was bothering you. You tell her that Elise had continued asking more questions but you stopped answering.

Ellie was not happy to hear that.

The next morning you get a text from Ellie.

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: You free during home room today?

You: Yes!

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Meet me in the science wing bathroom at 8

You like the message and finish getting ready. You get a hall pass and leave to meet Ellie. The science wing is empty during homeroom, so it’s a good spot to be alone.

When you walk in Ellie is leaning back with her hands on the sink.

“We’ve unlocked a new location,” she points out enthusiastically.

“We have,” you giggle at how cute she is.

“Less than ideal, but I like getting to see you in person.”

“You spend plenty of time seeing me in person,” you tease her. She walks over to you and flips your hood over your head.

“Actually spending time with you,” she specifies grabbing your hands to pull your arms around her.

You lean your head onto Ellie’s shoulder. “It is really nice getting to hang out with you. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?!” She practically yells in your ear.

“It may be normal for you to disappear for a half hour but if I’m gone more than 5 minutes people are going to think I’ve got explosive diarrhea or something.”

Her face is contorted in confusion until it hits her, eliciting a discouraged sigh.“You study during homeroom don’t you?”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s what it’s there for.”

Ellie waves a hand in the air dismissively. “It’s like those yellow speed signs, a suggestion.”

Your jaw drops and you shake your head in mock disapproval. “Remind me not to get in a car with you.”

“I am a GREAT driver. I’ll pick you up for our first date and show you.” Ellie says matter-of-factly. Eyebrows furrowed, but a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Your heart flutters at the mention of a first date, but it is against your nature to halt the banter. “I’ll just have to bring a helmet.”

“I’m coordinated enough to play lacrosse. You on the other hand, I bet you hit a lot of curbs.”

“I plead the fifth!” You stick your tongue out at her.

“I know that one!” Ellie informs you with enthusiasm, eager to impress you.

“I feel like you are the kind of person to know the rules so that you can break them most effectively,” you tease her and you can tell by the look in her eyes that you are right on the money.

Ellie throws her hands up in the air. “I want my lawyer!”

You playfully shove her and she grabs your arms to rope you into a hug.

On Friday during your tutoring session with Elise you are working in a textbook. You slide the book towards her to point to the asymptote in the graph and she puts her hand on top of yours. You quickly pull away and you hear a textbook fall off a shelf nearby, but don't think anything of it.

When Elise asks to borrow your pencil sharpener she tries to slide her hand over yours once again. Before you can react someone coughs loudly from the other side of a book shelf. Elise gets startled and quickly lets go.

Reading over an answer to a problem Elise had done you hear a very familiar voice hoarsely whisper “what the fuck!”

You look around for Ellie but the first thing you notice is Elise’s arm around the back of your chair.

“Do that again and you won’t have a tutor anymore,” you tell her sternly and she folds her arms across her chest in a huff.

Looking around you see a pair of eyes peeking through a hole on the bookshelf, they are green and sparkling in a way that tells you they are accompanied by a smile. Further down the shelf you see another face poking through, Paz, accompanying Ellie on her little mission.

You pull out your phone and send Ellie a text.

You: Are you spying on me???

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I have no idea what you are talking about

You: None at all?

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: You’re right. Now that I’m thinking about it Paz mentioned something about undercover work

You look back towards Ellie and Paz and they quickly duck out of sight. You have to stifle your laugh and refocus on your job.

Friday at the end of the school day you head to the locker room to retrieve your gym clothes, they need to be washed. You are giddy at the prospect of catching a glimpse of Ellie. Even if you don’t get to talk to her, let alone be near her.

When you enter the locker room you are greeted by the sound of a ruckus. You hear a crash a few rows back, like someone fell into a locker.

You creep down the rows of lockers to investigate. That requires navigation through a crowd of softball and lacrosse players. You see Ellie hovering in an offensive stance over Elise, who is crouching slightly, as if recovering from a hit.

“What the hell, Williams?” Elise asks in disgust, shoving Ellie away from her.

Ellie pushes her back, much harder. “Just think you need to watch yourself, Knolls.”

Elise doesn’t retaliate this time, Ellie plays lacrosse she knows how to rough someone up. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ellie pushes Elise up against the lockers and pins her there. You may or may not be jealous. “Don’t ever get in my way again.” The gathered crowd collectively gasps but no one tries to intervene. After staring Elise down long enough to make her point, Ellie lets go of her and turns away. Elise watches confused, pissed off, and embarrassed. You know why Ellie is angry with her, though you are baffled that she would display those emotions so publicly.

What if Elise told someone about this and Ellie ended up in the principal’s office? What would she tell her? Sorry, she was flirting with the girl I like. She was MY tutor first!

This isn’t a side of Ellie you are familiar with. This aggression is uncalled for, but it’s attractive. Seeing her physically fight for you? It has you in a lust filled haze.

The crowd disperses and Ellie walks past you. Her cheeks flush when she spots you, realizing you saw what just happened. But her expression turns cocky when she sees the hunger in your eyes. She bites her lip and winks at you. Her hand reaches so that her fingertips brush over your waist. No one else could have seen because of the way you two were positioned. Normally you would have panicked, but the public display of affection was concealed by the angle of her body. Not to mention the way you caught up in the passion you share.

Even after Ellie passes by, you stand there dumbfounded. Nonetheless, you force yourself to shake it off in order to continue on with your day. But your phone buzzes…

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: You liked that didn’t you?

Everyone else should be gone in about 10

Want to wait around?

You: That was a bad idea, confronting her like that

But yes I liked it

And yes I’ll be waiting

You dawdle at your locker while the chatting dies down to silence and footsteps are no longer falling.

Ellie approaches you and leans against a locker with her arms crossed.

“You know where my gym locker is?” You question.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know where to watch you get changed?”

You playfully hit Ellie in the arm. “Shut up!”

“My locker is right on the other side.” She admits. “Doesn’t matter how many voices are around, I can always hear yours.”

Focusing down on your shoes you blink rapidly and take a deep breath, unsure of how to handle this attention. Yes, you’ve received this type of attention before. But Ellie being the girl that notices you is still incomprehensible. Not only that, you have now seen her feelings towards you exist outside of when you two are alone. Sweet moments in secret are one thing, but her defending your honor? Of course no one knows that’s what it is, but it doesn't stop your head from spinning.

Ellie tilts your face up with her pointer finger and your wide eyes stare into hers, they are focused on you.

“What?” She asks, her worry evident in her expression as she searches yours for a clue of how you are feeling.

“It’s nothing,” you lie and Ellie raises an eyebrow. She knows you too well now to get away with that.

“Well…” your voice is soft and timid. “It’s that… you just … seem to care a lot about me. And it’s sweet.

“I do care a lot about you. I guess I need to make that more clear. I have a secret to tell you.” You cock your head to the side in confusion, Ellie leaning close to whisper “I like like you.” In your ear. You start giggling.

Ellie wraps her arms around your waist and tucks her face into the crook of your neck. You rest your cheek on her soft auburn hair and hold her tight. You feel Ellie take a deep breath, breathing in your scent, and feeling her exhale on your neck sends shivers down your spine.

“I have to go to practice but I don’t want to,” she mumbles.

You sigh. “I don’t want you to go either. But super stars don’t skip practice.”

“Super star?” She asks, picking her head up to look at you. Her surprise is so genuine it melts your heart.

“I watched your old games, Ellie. You really are talented.”

Ellie smirks, her sense of wonder broken by her dirty mind. “Talented,” she repeats.

You roll your eyes playfully and ignore the comment. “You can’t slow down now. You’ve got another championship to win.”

She nods in agreement, with a sense of duty. “Very true. I’m like a Wendy’s 4 for 4. Plus I am dating the smartest girl and it would be embarrassing if she wasn’t dating the best lacrosse player.”

“I’ll never eat Wendy’s the same way ever again.”

Ellie’s green eyes sparkle devilishly. “Yeah. You’ll be eating me too.”

“I’m looking forward to it. But my super star really does need to get to practice.”

“Will you stay with me until I’m ready to leave?” Ellie asks shyly, a bright flush coloring her freckled face.

“Of course I can.”

Ellie grabs your hand and leads you over to her locker. She opens it up and pulls out her practice clothes.

You don’t even pretend that you aren’t watching. Ellie watched you watch her. She pulls her shirt over her head, only momentarily breaking eye contact when the fabric passes over her face.

Your breath hitches seeing her like this. Her sports bra hugging her exquisitely and her abdomen pleasantly toned. The urge to trace you fingertips over her impressive body burns in the pit of your stomach.

“Like what you see?” Ellie chuckles, clearly pleased to see you gawking at her.

“I guess you could say that,” you sigh, pretending like you aren’t ogling at her body.

“Don’t lie to me, tutor girl.”

You cross your arms and pout. “Fine. I’m impressed. Happy now?”

“Very.” Ellie hooks her arm around your waist and drags you into her, hastily, and you have to grab her shoulders to steady yourself. Ellie presses her forehead to yours and you take a deep breath after she has taken it away.

“Pretty girl.” Ellie mumbles and you just gaze at her starry eyed. Ellie kisses you gently and you let your hand slide down her body, over her perky breasts and tight abs. You grab her hips firmly when you get there and then distance yourself, still holding on to her.

“Practice,” you remind her and she groans. Ellie throws on her practice pinnie and then slides down her pants leaving her in her boxers. Thankfully she pulls a pair of shorts over them right away.

Ellie puts her clothes away and starts taking her practice things out.

“Can you hold this for me?” She asks, extending her lacrosse stick towards you. You nod as you take it. Ellie slings her lacrosse backpack over her shoulder and stops to take you in for a moment.

“I didn’t actually need you to hold it,” Ellie admits. “I just knew you would look cute.”

You shake your head at her and bite back a smile.

“I’ll text you after practice,” she tells you before giving you a quick peck on the lips and heading out.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment.

Is this real?

Does Ellie Williams really like you?

This is not something you ever imagined happening, but here you are, kissing her before she goes to practice.

You literally pinch yourself so that when you get a text from Ellie you know it’s real.

Ellie sends you a message after she has finished with her practice. You ask each other about your time apart and chat.

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Can you send me your schedule?

You: Plan on stalking me?

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Yes

I’ve got some of it figured out but I want to try and run into you whenever I can

You send her a picture of your schedule.

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I didn’t know half these classes existed

This doesn’t look fun

Like at all

You: Don’t worry about me😂

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Don’t tell me what to do😡

I’m going to make sure you don’t get too stressed💚

You: I have a few ideas about how you could do that

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: 👀👀👀👀

I will mix wholesome and not so wholesome

You: Sounds like a plan

Ellie ends up going on a rant about practice, Abby Anderson did something to piss her off. However, Ellie’s team won their scrimmage so it’s okay.

You text Ellie the rest of the night and end up staying up later than usual until you finally say goodnight. Even though you don’t want to.

On Saturday Ellie has an away game and then goes to a party with a bunch of her teammates.

You spend the afternoon studying, then go to a party yourself. Definitely not the same one.

Elise eyes you from across the room and you ignore her. When your friends ask why you are giving her the cold shoulder you tell them it’s because you are her tutor now. Your friends are relieved, they know how that type of thing has gone in the past. You are happy they don’t know it already happened again.

You socialize outside of your friend group too, politely ignoring any flirting. You have a lot of fun, even if you are waiting for your phone to buzz.

You hear from Ellie more than you expect to. She keeps you updated on the drama around her and you can tell she had been smoking before she even mentioned it. She is more silly than usual, and it’s incredibly charming, especially since you’ve had a bit to drink.

Nicole sees you smiling at your phone. “I know that look!”

She gets excited but rolls her eyes when you try to brush it off. She looks you up and down with a bit of an attitude, it’s unlike you to keep this kind of thing from her.

“Fine. I’m talking to a girl,” you admit and Nicole’s eyes light up.

“Are you going to tell me who it is?” She pesters you, a wildly excited look in her eyes.

You make up a little lie. Nicole isn’t ready for the truth yet. “She goes to North. You wouldn’t know her.” Nicole knows who Ellie is but she doesn’t really know her. Not like you do.

She squints her eyes at you. “Is that all I get?”

“For now.” You take a long sip of your drink, signaling you are moving on from this topic.

Nicole shakes her head in disapproval. “I guess that’s better than nothing. Don’t think I’ll be forgetting about this.”

You and your friends get picked up around 2 am. On your way back to Nicole’s you get a text from Ellie, asking you to come over. You tell her that you can’t drive anywhere because you’ve been drinking. She says she is high but can walk to you, so you explain that you are sleeping over at a friend’s. Ellie says she will be coordinating with you next weekend because she always misses you extra when she’s intoxicated.

Sunday is busy. School work, chores, and family dinner.

Ellie gets some homework done too, alongside a bunch of yard work with Joel.

You get a lovely text from Ellie Monday morning.

You: Good morning:)

What are you doing up so early?

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Getting you coffee

You: I always make it at home you don’t have to do that

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I want to.

And I know your order anyways

You: How????

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I took a picture of it that day you came in late with Dunkin

In case I ever needed it

You: I’m genuinely impressed

You’re 10 steps ahead

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: 🫡

Meet you at your car when you get to school?

You: What if someone sees us?!

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I’m like Michael Jackson

You: ???????

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: A smooth criminal

You: That’s actually a good one😂

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: I’m glad you said that, otherwise I’d have to beat it

You: Okay ma’am that’s enough

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Don’t act like this isn’t a thriller for you my PYT

You: You are too much

In the best way possible

Space Nerd 🚀🤓:

When you park at school you let Ellie know that you have arrived.

Out of nowhere Ellie casually strolls by and leaves a cup of coffee on the hood of your car.

As you are getting out and picking it up Abby pulls in next to you. She gives you a smile and a wave, so you politely wave and smile back.

Your phone immediately starts ringing and you pick up.

“NO FUCKING WAY SHE’S GOT THE SPOT NEXT TO YOU!” Ellie yells into the phone and you are grateful the volume wasn’t all the way up. Would’ve burst your eardrums.

“Last year too,” you inform her.

“My enemy is living my dream,” Ellie practically growls.

“I would pay good money for you to be my parking neighbor,” you promise her.

“Top dollar?” She questions, deadly serious.

“Absolutely!” You assure Ellie. You hear her sigh in relief.

“Thank you. I gotta go but I’ll talk to you later?”

“I would love that!”

“Bye pretty girl,” you can hear Ellie’s smile in her voice.

“Bye El.”

You say hello to Nicole a few minutes later.

“Is that Dunkin’!?” She gasps.

“Uh… yeah?”

“You didn’t even ask me if I wanted any! You always do!” Nicole groans.

“Sorry, I uh… it totally slipped my mind. I really needed it this morning,” you explain, trying to cover your tracks.

“You should set a location reminder on your phone. When you get to Dunkin’ it will remind you to ask if I want some,” Nicole says, not a hint of sarcasm.

You salute her. “Aye aye captain!”

Your phone buzzes a few times during 5th period, but you don’t check it until class is over.

Space Nerd 🚀🤓: Don’t go into 6th period right away (12:35 pm)

My class is right across from yours (12:35 pm)

I want to say hi (12:35 pm)

And maybe kiss you👀 (12:35 pm)

Hi (12:47 pm)

Hey (12:53 pm)

You don’t check your phone during class do you (12:55 pm)

When you see the messages you like them all and hurry to your next class.

As you approach your 6th period class you look for Ellie. She is outside the door across the hall, mindlessly rummaging through her backpack, despite looking around for you and not at all paying attention to what she is doing. Ellie winks at you when she spots you.

When the bell rings the hallway starts to clear, so you bend down to tie your shoe to stall.

Once the hallway is almost empty Ellie gets up and starts to walk over to you. Once everyone is gone she says hi and grabs your hand, giving you a quick kiss.

“I know you don’t want to be late. I’ll see you later.” Ellie holds your hand for another moment before finally letting go and heading across the hall. She gazes back longingly, a pouty frown on her face, not wanting to leave you.

You bite your lip, just as sad to watch her go, and think to yourself “I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but I don’t think I care.”

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @dinanellie, @everegretseverything, @mikellie, @lamolaine, @0pheli4, @soupycloud, @radioheadfan699, @callmelola111, @hysteriawillnotsuccumb, @normalthing111, @3isosoup, @lmaoo-spiderman, @cqliflower

#ellie tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams au #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie willams x reader

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starrylothcat · 9 months

Note

Hey Starry! Wasn't sure if those prompts you shared were an invitation for requests, but I thought I'd shoot my shot.

❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜

With either Fives, Jesse, or Kix? Or someone else if you're not feeling them. And a f!reader if that's okay. I'm a sucker for first-time sex.

Feel free to ignore!

First Time

Pairing: Jesse x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Jesse having been dating for awhile and you decide to go all the way with him.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW. 18+. PiV sex, virgin reader’s first time, some cuteness and fluffy ending. A hint of possessive Jesse.

WC: ~2300

A/N: Sorry this took so long, anon! The holiday season has been a whirlwind for me and I’m finally at a place where I have time to write! I’m also a sucker for first-time sex, I hope this is what you had in mind. Enjoy some Juicy Jesse! This is also my first time writing him so I hope I did him some justice 😊

When Jesse escorted you back to your apartment after your dinner date, you knew you wouldn’t be watching a Holomovie like you suggested.

You and the ARC trooper have been dating for a bit now, taking it slow and getting to know one another.

You’ve had short-term relationships in the past, but they never seemed to work out. You were getting ready to give up and knew trying to find a partner during a war no less was a silly dream.

When Jesse waltzed into your life, though, his boyish charm and resolute dedication to his brothers won you over quickly. You never expected to date a soldier, but when Jesse asked you out for a caf, the rest was history.

Everything was so easy with Jesse, and you didn’t want to rush it or mess it up. And he didn’t either.

As your relationship progressed and became more serious and physical, you told him you were technically a virgin, not yet going all the way with a partner.

Jesse just smiled and kissed you, saying you could go as slow as you needed. He would never pressure you into something you weren’t ready for.

You had barely started the Holomovie when Jesse’s lips were on yours, fervent and passionate, taking the breath out of one another’s lungs with each pass of your lips and caress of one another’s bodies.

You were soon on your bed, stripped of both your clothes, kissing and exploring, mumbling praise and pleasured sighs, basking in one another’s arousal.

Jesse had just finished satisfying you with his mouth and fingers, something he took great pride in and would happily do all night if you let him.

Jesse smiled into your neck pressing his rigid length into your thigh, waiting for you to catch your breath after your orgasm.

This is when you’d return the favor, taking him in your mouth or hand, fulfilling him just as much as he pleasured you.

You had other plans, though. You wanted him inside you. You were ready for the next step.

“Jesse…I want you. I want all of you.” You whispered, lightly tracing his facial tattoo as he locked eyes with yours.

“Are you sure?” He asked, studying your face, making sure he was understanding what you were asking.

“I am sure, Jesse.” You smiled, still gently tracing his face. “We’ve been together for a while now and…I want my first time to be with you. I’m ready if you are.”

“Yes, Maker, yes I am.”

Jesse closed his eyes, kissing you deeply, his heart fluttering at the thought, both from his nerves and the trust you were bestowing upon him.

When he pulled away for a breath, he also pulled himself away from you.

“Let me know if you want to stop at any time.”

You nodded. “I will. Don’t worry Jesse.”

“I can sit against the headboard, so you can be in control.” Jesse nipped at your neck, the realization of him burying himself inside your soft, beautiful pussy exciting him beyond measure.

You agreed, adjusting yourself so you sat on his lap, his back against the headboard on your bed.

You slowly rubbed your slick pussy on his thick cock, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. You both moaned, and Jesse took hold of your plush hips.

You could feel how hot and ready Jesse’s cock was for you, precum dribbling from his swollen tip.

You needed him inside you.

You grasped his bulky shoulders as you lined yourself up, pressing his tip to your entrance.

You sunk on him, slowly. Your breath hitched as he entered you, immediately feeling the intrusion. Jesse let out a low moan as your velvety walls enveloped him.

“That’s right, baby. Take your time.” Jesse rubbed your back as you sank lower, adjusting to his size. You were used to his fingers, but they were still nowhere near the length or girth of his cock.

“Jesse,” you quietly gasped, stopping momentarily, almost bottoming out.

“If it’s too much, we can stop-“ Jesse looked worried, bringing his hands to cup your face.

“N-no.” You smiled, kissing him gently on the lips. “I want to keep going.”

He nodded, letting out a low moan as you fully took him, a sound that sent a jolt of desire straight to your core.

“Kriff, baby, you feel amazing.” His pupils were blown, his hands now tenderly cupping your breasts, squeezing and kneading as he let you take the lead.

You gripped his shoulders, moving your hips a little, still adjusting to him inside you. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but it was better than any fantasy. You felt so full, so close to him. Connected not just physically, but emotionally as well.

“You feel amazing, too.”

Pleasure was beginning to override the discomfort of his girth inside you, allowing your body to relax and focusing your mind on how amazing you felt.

You honed in on how good his fingers were as they played with your breasts and his shallow breathing through his nose as you tightened around him.

You gave him a coy smile, moving slightly.

“Ah, Jesse, you’re so good inside me.”

Jesse groaned in approval, latching his lips to your nipple, sucking and nibbling as you began to slowly ride him.

“So wet…so warm…” He moaned into the flesh of your breasts as he reveled in everything that were you. “Wanna stay like this forever…” Jesse locked eyes with you. “You feel incredible around me.

Every delicious sound that left your lips as you rolled your hips on him stoked the fire that was burning in his body. You felt like heaven.

“So perfect.” Jesse let out a ragged breath. “You're taking me so well, mesh’la.”

Jesse buried his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around you, inhaling your scent and gently bucking his hips up into you.

You moaned, riding him faster, focusing on how his thick cock felt sliding in and out of you.

Pleasure was now mounting, electric zaps of bliss up your spine every time you sunk on his cock, taking him deeper each time.

Jesse was now moving too, matching your pace and carefully thrusting up into you.

“Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?” Jesse increased his thrusts, sinful sounds leaving his lips as you involuntarily clenched around him.

“It’s good, you’re good, so good Jesse…” Your thighs were beginning to burn, his cock now nudging something deep inside you that made your eyelids flutter.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to keep up this position for long, though, the strain in your thighs from straddling his thick ones beginning to distract you from pleasure.

“Jesse…can we change positions?” You slowed down, easing the tension in your legs.

“Anything for you, mesh’la.” Jesse nodded as you climbed off him, laying on your back. “As long as I get to be back inside you.”

He hovered over you, resting his weight on his forearms around your head.

“Ready?” He kissed your jaw, waiting for your okay to enter you, sliding his cock through your folds.

You nodded, whispering a hoarse “Yes,” desire flooding your senses wholly.

Jesse carefully pressed back into you, both of you sighing at the sensation.

He didn’t move at first, still looking down at you.

“What?” You asked, bashful under his worshipful gaze.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Jesse murmured, kissing your neck, sucking gently at the spot he knew drove you wild. “So, so beautiful. Your sounds, your body, your everything…”

You mewled at his praise, feeling him twitch inside you as you clenched around him, earning a deep rumble from him, as well as a breathless chuckle.

“Kriff, baby if you keep that up I’m not gonna last…barely holding on as it is.”

Jesse pressed hot kisses from your throat to your jawline, then finally to your lips which he captured in a heated kiss. Your tongues danced as his hips began to move, slowly and with purpose.

You arched yourself up into him, your soft whimpers becoming louder and more desperate moans of his name.

Jesse couldn’t get enough of how your body was reacting to him, how your nails were digging into his shoulder blades, your ankles locked around his waist as you both ascended higher in your shared ecstasy.

Your bodies were perfectly entwined, and Jesse felt something bubble inside him, a possessiveness he hadn’t felt before. As he witnessed your pleasured expressions, feeling the most intimate parts of you that no one had ever felt before, he could barely hold on to his control any longer.

Jesse gripped your hips, pressing his mouth to yours in a passionate, frenzied kiss.

He moaned your name, resting his muscular forearms around your head, his cock hitting deeper than his fingers and tongue have ever been able to go.

“I love that no one else has seen you like this…” Jesse panted against your lips, beginning to move faster, sliding almost out of you, before thrusting in until his hips met yours. “…that no one else has felt you before, been inside you.”

“Ah - Jesse, I’m yours, I’m all yours…!” Your mind was fuzzy with pleasure, his sexy words bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

His voice was deep, desperate, cut with moans as he quickened the snap of his hips into you.

“They don't get to have you, but I do.”

Jesse’s words shot white-hot liquid desire through your veins, his pelvis providing just enough friction to bring you close to your release, but you needed more.

“I need you, please, Jesse I want to come!”

Jesse knew what you were asking for, and didn’t hesitate to place a practiced finger on your swollen and sensitive clit. He rubbed tight circles just the way you liked it, stars appearing in your vision.

“Come for me, baby. Need you.” His voice was husky and deep, laced with desperation as he brought you mind-numbing pleasure.

Your body shuddered beneath him, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter, the lewd sounds of where you were connected filling the room pairing with the even more lewd sounds leaving your lips.

“Jesse, I’m gonna, I’m so close…I want to come for you…I…” You gasped out as Jesse laced his free hand with yours above your head. You couldn’t believe how good he felt, how good he made you feel.

You know he had a few short flings in the past like you did, but this was different. It was different for both of you. Jesse had never felt so close, so in tune with a partner before, and you hadn’t either. The realization was almost overwhelming for both of you.

“Come for me, baby, that’s it, just like that.” Jesse’s voice brought you back to reality for a short second, and with a final circle of his finger, your orgasm crashed over your body.

Waves of intense pleasure spread from your spine to the tips of your toes and fingers, accentuated by his cock driving into you again and again.

You weren’t sure how many times you cried out his name as you rode your high, never feeling so connected and cared for as Jesse pressed his lips to yours again, swallowing your broken cries.

“Wh-where?” Jesse could barely speak, his peak nearing dangerously close as your eyelids fluttered open to meet his, bringing his hand from your clit to entwine with your other.

You looked like an angel, flushed and blissed out, your eyes holding nothing but adoration for him.

“Inside, Jesse, please come inside me.”

With a final snap of his hips, he stilled and gave you everything he had, not able to hold back upon hearing those words breathlessly whispered from your swollen lips.

You felt Jesse pulse and fill you with his warm release, his muscles shaking against your body as he hoarsely moaned your name into the side of your neck.

You whispered his name, tracing his back as he relaxed on top of you, his hips slowing as his cock softened, but not quite yet ready to leave you.

You lay there, holding one another. Jesse lifted his head to look at you, smiling. He carefully pulled out, loving your quiet whimper at the loss of him.

Jesse flopped to your side, pulling you into his chest.

“Was that okay?” He sounded nervous, unsure. “I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“Jesse, it was amazing.” You pecked his lips, nestling your head on his chest. He let out a breath, nuzzling closer to you.

“It really was.”

Jesse kissed the top of your head.

Jesse sat up, lifting himself off the bed. You watched as his tanned, thick body disappeared into your refresher. He emerged a few moments later with a warm, damp towel and you could hear the sound of your bath running.

Jesse carefully cleaned you up before cuddling back with you on the bed.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” He mumbled, absentmindedly drawing circles on your arm with his hand.

“I know.” You smiled, his laugh at your response reverberating in his chest.

“You mean the world to me, mesh’la. I’m glad we could share this together. Thank you for trusting me.”

“It’s more than trust, Jess. You mean the world to me, too, and that’s why I wanted to take the next step in our relationship with you. At least that’s how I see it.” You blushed, hoping you weren’t moving too quickly for him.

Jesse wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. “That’s how I see it, too.” His voice was quiet, but absolutely sincere. “I’ve never felt this way toward anyone before.”

You touched your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

“That makes two of us.”

Jesse grinned, his forehead touching yours.

You sat there for a moment as the bath warmed up, basking in new feelings that you knew would only grow from here.

The TL: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @coraex @cw80831 @dangraccoon @mythical-illustrator @eternal-transcience @the-cantina @nahoney22 @moonlightwarriorqueen @skellymom @reader6898

Dividers by the ever amazing and lovely @dystopicjumpsuit

#the clone wars #Jesse x reader #arc trooper Jesse #Jesse x you #clone trooper Jesse x reader #x reader #clone x reader #tcw #the clone wars fanfiction #starrycatwrites #arc trooper Jesse x you #clone trooper Jesse x you #arc trooper Jesse x reader #clone smut #the clone wars smut

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shichey97 · 9 days

Text

Run

Eddie was leaning back in his seat as he watched the party that was happening. Eddie still hated parties after his 356 years alive. He had never found the appeal in playing nice with a bunch of people who wouldn't think twice about shoving a stake through his heart if need be. He sighed through his nose and rubbed his leg as he caught a glimpse of a person that almost seemed to glide as he walked across the room to the table of treats for them. It was a party to promote the new synthetic blood, Ichor, said to be as nutritious as the real deal and as close to it as possible. Eddie didn't want to try it because he was a picky eater. He was startled from his thoughts as the same person came up to him, "You haven't tried a bag." he says brushing some of his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.

Eddie looked at him and his eyes widened a bit, "What?" he asks and cringes at how dumb he sounds when a literally God was standing in front of him. The man was tall, tan, and beautiful. He had dark brown hair that he had parted to the side part of it curled around his cheek bone and his hazel eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Ichor. You haven't tried any. I've been waiting on you to try some so I would have a reason to talk to you." He says. "I'm Steve. Steve Harrington of.." "Harrington Enterprises?" Eddie asks with a slight smile, "I figured as much." he says leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Why does it matter what I think about the synthetic blood?" He asks, but takes the bag anyway. "Or did you just want to talk to me, pretty boy?" Steve catches his bottom lip between his teeth before he chuckles, "And if I did?" he asks deciding to actually let himself enjoy a conversation for once instead of pushing the product he worked so hard on. "Then I'd say pull up a chair and we can talk while I give your blood a try." he says watching him do just that as he opens the end of the blood bag container and took a slight inhale and drank some of it. He froze when it touched his tongue and looked at Steve in pleasant surprise. It actually tasted like the real thing and, if he was capable of it, he would've blushed at the other man's chuckle. Eddie pulled away from the bag to swallow, "How did you do that?" he asks "I don't want to bore you, but it was a lot of cellular work." Steve says shrugging watching the other eat, "Do you like it?" Eddie nods as he finishes it, "It's amazing. Are there different types like in people?" He asks curious about how it would work to satisfy the majority. "Yes. The one I gave you is Rh-null." He says, "you seem like the type of man that likes rare blood and that is the rarest on earth. Less than 50 people have it." he says proudly. "That's why it's called Golden Blood." Eddie says nodding. and looks at the bag that has a golden label. "It tastes like it could be used at a blood bank." He says and Steve seems to smile more at that. "That's what I was aiming for. It can't be, but I wanted it to taste as close to the real deal as physically possible." He says nodding. "I'm planning on releasing a sweet brand soon." "Well then I volunteer to be the taste tester." he says watching the other man's face as they studied each other. "Seriously though. Why does a human care so much about what us vampires eat?"

"My best friend and her girlfriend are vampires. I just want them to be healthy and they don't like any of the other synthetic stuff so I figured I'd use my science know how to craft a better one." He says shrugging. "My turn to ask a question." He says and Eddie motions for him to go. "You know who I am. So my question is who are you?" "Shit I was swept away by your beauty and forgot to tell you my name. I'm Eddie. Eddie Munson." He says and he watches Steve's eyes widen. "Eddie Munson as in the mysterious singer Eddie Munson?" Steve asks a nervous giggle bubbling up as he watches the other man. "Holy shit. I knew you were hot."

"You know my music, big boy?" He asks his knees brushing Steve's now. He smiles more as the human blushes at him, "What's your favorite song?" "Right now it's Figure You Out, but I also like One For The Money." he says with a nod as he smiles at him. "What's your favorite song?"

"Falling. I absolutely love that song." he says softly as if it's a big secret; which it is because that song is nothing like the rest of his music. It's a ballad instead of a heavy rock song.

"I can see why. It really shows off your vocal range and with the piano being the primary instrument on there it showcases your voice even more." Steve rambles before his cheeks tint pink again. "Sorry. I think that's one of your most impressive songs on the album."

Eddie smiles studying his face for a long moment, "I've never met someone who has actually asked me what my favorite song is." he says softly. "Well that's not my band of course."

"I have an insane question." Steve says softly. "Would you like to get out of here?" he asks looking at him leaning forward to take his hand with a gentle touch. He didn't flinch at the cold skin, but he did smile up at him. Hazel eyes meeting red.

"I thought you'd never ask, Sweetheart." He says and sholds his hand as he stands up. "Lead the way, Big Boy." he says before he follows him through the crowd and out a door.

Neither boy realized that this was the start of forever for them.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #stranger things fanfiction #steve×eddie #vampire eddie munson #human steve harrington

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my-naughty-writings-and-musings · 1 year

Note

Thank you for writing my Tarantulas request!!! It was amazing and I loved how it turned out. If I can do another request I'd love to see more Earthspark Megatron x human Reader, the last one you did of them in the supply closet was so good! I'd love to see more of their relationship and how they avoid getting caught when they get intimate in public/semi-pubic areas. Thank you! Cant wait to see more of your writings!

No problem, I had an absolute blast writing it!! The spider needs some serious love!

Also I can do that! Fair warning I went a WEE bit overboard but I think you'll enjoy Medic!Reader and Megs getting it on in the medical bay at GHOST! I cannot express how much I love it when bots and their humans sneak off for some fun, especially when the size of the bot in question forces the two to get creative.

For those who don't know: if you like my writing style, you can always commission me, and please reblog to help spread my work! Thank you!

From behind the cover of your welding mask, you allowed your face to pinch tightly in concentration, eyes focused entirely on your work as you carefully closed up what had once been a sizable metal gash. Thankful that the wound had been a clean one you'd been able to treat independently, you moved as quickly as you could without sacrificing control, wanting to minimize the lingering discomfort for your patient. Megatron had the highest pain tolerance you'd ever encountered, but even after applying a localized anesthetic you could feel his uncomfortable tension beneath you, just as you didn't fail to notice the small sigh that passed his lips when you finished and disengaged the flame.

Careful not to lose your balance, you crawled back along the big bots sizable torso before removing the mask for a clear look as well as a breath of fresh air. The injury looked a great deal better than when he'd first limped into the medical bay about twenty minutes prior, and you were confident it would improve further after your patch had some time to settle, but the mech had made you work for that sense of assurance. You could still clearly recall how your heart had absolutely flipped at the sight of him cradling his bleeding middle, even if he'd still had the capacity to crack a joke before laying back on the medical slab while you gathered your tools in a rush…

"That should do it." you said with a sigh, a little spent from the ordeal but pleased with the outcome. Megatron, with his upper half supported by the inclined berth, looked down the length of his frame to meet your gaze.

"Excellent work as always, Doctor." he said in a mix of praise and a tease, emphasizing your title to mock the formality the two of you had to fake when others were present. Granted, you were currently alone and the doors had been locked for privacy, but that had never stopped him before. A small shift of his middle and a noticeable lack of pain did, however, bring more genuine appreciation to his voice. "That does feel a great deal better, thank you, my spark."

You smiled at the term of endearment before giving his wound a final once over, ensuring it was as good as it could get before his self-repair protocols took care of the rest. "I'll need you to stay here for about another hour while it sets, just to be safe." you instructed when satisfied, confident that this would be nothing more than a faded scar in a few weeks time, so long as it was given the chance to heal. Areas of considerable "flexibility" were tricky on bots, compelling you to give another reminder as you packed your tools and prepared to climb down. "The last thing I want is for it to tear, and that'll be a lot less likely if you relax for now."

Megatron scoffed at the suggestion, a reaction that neither surprised or phased you. "An entire hour? Am I really so delicate?"

"You will be if you don't listen to me." you replied with a roll of your eyes. It was predictable that Megatron would object to you "fussing" over him, even if all you required was for him to take it easy. He complained about such things every time they were prescribed, but with you the big bot tended to comply… more often than not. You were hopeful this would be one of your successes as you slid off his side and walked to the lift that ferried you up and down the bot sized berths. Your departure quickly got his full attention.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to file the supplies I used for the repair." you explained with clear distaste for the fact, leaning back on the lift railing so you could face him as you shrugged your shoulders. The displeasure and sarcasm were overt even without the added roll of your eyes. "GHOST protocol."

The towering warrior put on what you dared to call a pout. "Am I simply supposed to sit here in the meantime?"

"We've got data pads and there's a bot sized tablet on the charger. I could set you up with whichever you prefer, but I do need to submit that report sooner rather than later." you said as you prepared to hit the button to descend, hesitating because you really would have preferred doing anything over the drudgery of typing reports. Getting some time to chill with your partner would have been a welcome change of pace, but GHOST didn't allow much leeway when it came to its tyrannical bureaucracy.

"Fine." Megatron huffed dramatically, giving you reason to pause as you fixed him with a raised brow. Though he wasn't in any position to actually contest, and he thankfully remained quite still on the berth as you'd ordered, the big bot was almost making a show of how unhappy he was. As he seemed to be marginally more theatrical than usual, you found yourself willing to take the time to try and figure out what he was playing at as he continued to whine. "If you are truly comfortable leaving me to languish in utter boredom…"

"As your doctor, I'm confident you'll survive." you replied, playfulness tinged by a hint of curiosity. Tilting your head and narrowing his eyes, you made it clear you knew there was some kind of game being played, and wanted to be let in on it. "What are you getting at, Megs?"

His pout shifted to include a hint of a smile, confirming for you that he was indeed playing at something.

"If only there was someone to keep me company while I recovered…" he mused with obviously mock melancholy, reaching out to cup your tiny body and gently pulling you towards him and away from the lift. "Perhaps those reports could wait a little longer, yes?"

You rolled your eyes, now confident this was all just a plot to make you stick around for his sake and nothing more. For all of his gruffness with others, the big bot hung on you like a needy cat, making it quite unsurprising he'd be gunning for some personal time even after getting stitched up. Ordinarily you were happy to indulge his desire for your presence, but keeping your job unfortunately took precedence over keeping him company. "If I don't get it in before the next half hour, the system will send out an alert when it does its automatic supply check. Is entertaining you for twice that amount of time more important than stopping a false alarm?"

Something small shifted in his entire demeanor, but being over thirty feet tall made the change abundantly clear to you even if you hadn't a clue what it meant. Thankfully, he didn't keep you waiting, his faint smile shifting into a full smirk as he spoke.

"I can get all the entertainment I need in… five minutes. Ten, if I'm thorough." he purred, scarlet optics intensifying their gaze as he went from merely watching to drinking you in, servo at your back pulling you closer. A reflexive flush rose up in your cheeks. You knew that look well, it had preceded countless rushed dives into closets or warehouses and on one especially spontaneous occasion the cargo hold of an unmanned carrier plane… but you never would have expected to see it now. Suddenly it was all too clear what he had been playing at.

The disbelief and total exasperation was as apparent in your voice as it was the hand you threw up into the air. "Seriously? You're horny now?"

"Can you really blame me?" he replied with a laugh, amused by your reaction but hardly disheartened. He lowered his voice and allowed it to rumble through your tiny body, and in spite of everything it was just as effective on you as it always was. Having his careful digits at your back only helped his case. "I did have a very attractive human practically seated on my lap."

"A human with a welder!" you replied with a wild gesture to your pack, where the tools capable of slicing a bot were arranged with care. Considering he still had the fresh wound on his stomach, you couldn't imagine how he had it in him to be frisky, but judging by the intensifying lust in his optics the pain was doing little to dissuade him.

"What would you say if I told you that made it all the more appealing?" he said after a moment of silence.

He was just fucking with you now. He had to be. There was no way he seriously wanted to bang after having his organs sewn back in, you refused to believe it, it was too much even for him.

"You… you're utterly ridiculous." you said in a bit of a daze, tempted to pinch yourself to test if this was all some crazy dream. You halfway wondered if he was recording this for some kind of inevitable gotcha that would come at any moment, and felt so silly you couldn't keep the laughter from tinging your voice as you continued."I'm saying you're utterly ridiculous."

Megatron somewhat carefully clapped a spare hand to his chassis as if he'd just been dealt a devastating blow. "Oh no, you wound me further…" he teased, making you wonder if you were dating a warrior or the planet's biggest dork. Trying not to give him the satisfaction of a smile, you had to admit to yourself that it was much harder than it should have been to remember why you'd needed to leave in the first place. Fixing you with a smirk, he once more tugged you closer, and this time your body failed to resist in the slightest. "I fear I may need medical attention all over again."

"I'm going to repeat myself; you're utterly ridiculous." you said simply, medical training swooping in where your professionalism failed. "Plus, if you push it and that patch breaks, I'll have to redo all my welding, and I don't think either one of us wants that."

"No…" he conceded in a not at all serious tone. Allowing the silence to hang until you raised a brow in anticipation, the mech went from smirking to grinning with devilish delight, his sharp canid dentae peeking out as he purred low enough for you to feel the rumble of his voice through your tiny organic body.

"But that merely means I need to be careful, or more accurately, creative."

The servo at your back scooped up your tiny frame without effort, compelling you to grab on for stability as he hefted you clear off the berth, raising you to his helm so quickly your ears popped from the change in altitude.

"Whoa!" you cried out in surprise, clinging to him as you suddenly found yourself a good twenty or more feet from the nearest surface below. You had ample practice being handled by bots, but this one had caught you off guard, as Megatron was always the type to practice caution when maneuvering you in his massive servos. Less than gracefully wiggling yourself into a more dignified position, you met his gaze with a pout, preparing to give him a piece of your mind before demanding to be put back down. No matter how little you wanted to complete your task, it had to be done, and no amount of his antics could change your mind…

Except when your optics met his up close, you found that to be patently untrue. The desire in their depths was like fire, burning so bright it seemed to see straight through your token resistance and to the molten need burning just below your skin.

"Come now, love…" he purred, lifting you to his helm and setting you down to straddle his chin. The touch between your parted legs was like an electric prod, melting away all the stress of your position and speaking to the frustration even you hadn't been able to see. Biting your lip to keep yourself quiet, you recalled the discipline that would follow late reports but found the threat hadn't the slightest hold over you anymore. All that seemed real was the warmth of his frame against your tense body, and the hum of his voice as he continued, making quite a point to let you feel every syllable. "Let me show my doctor some much deserved appreciation. The reports can wait."

Just able to keep from moaning, you sighed and waged one final war in your head between lust and responsibility, finding it obvious who the victor would be but giving it a go regardless. When your body made the decision you knew it would, you picked your words carefully to avoid giving him too much satisfaction.

"I'm giving you five minutes." you said in a blatant lie, setting the stage so you could claim to have simply lost track of time once you were finished. The answer pleased him greatly, and he pulled you a little ways up his helm, resting your crotch just above his lips so you could feel each and every word humming up through the fabric and into your waiting pussy.

"Not a problem. I work swiftly…" he purred. The vibrations were enough to pull a tiny gasp past your parted lips as he hummed in delight, fully aware of what the stimulation did to you from past experience. Not wanting to give him absolute satisfaction, you kept yourself quiet save for your own smirk and a sarcastic retort.

"Is that why I have to patch you up so often?"

The open taunt drove him wild. You'd always been one of the few humans, the few beings, to not only speak to him openly but fearlessly, and he expressed his appreciation with a request so rushed it came out as a pleading demand. "Take off your pants."

"Give me a second, kind of hard to undress without a proper spot to sit…" you replied as you slipped out of your protective lab coat to reveal your scrubs. Though kicking off your shoes was easy, straddling his chin left you without much of a foothold or a way to wiggle free of your pants, forcing you to awkwardly grab them and your underwear as you tried to shimmy out of both. Megatron was hypnotized by the sight for a moment, his optics locked on your increasing exposure before he decided it wasn't happening swiftly enough. You let out a single sound when you were unceremoniously lifted up to hover over his lips. "Oop!"

Dexterous digits took hold of the fabric you'd already pulled down and gave a swift, decisive tug to yank them down your legs, leaving you bare from the waist down. Yipping in surprise, you regained your wits quickly enough to balance yourself when he set you back down, your exposed pussy coming just inches shy of his lips before you found footing on your hands and knees.

"Is this proper enough?" he asked, fully aware of how his heated breath teased you.

"Yes!" you gasped, unable and unwilling to keep yourself from reacting to his encouragement. The fact he was right there had to be as torturous for him as it was for you, and looking into his optics confirmed as much, their fiery depths drinking in your nakedness in the same way a starving bot would drink in a cup of cool energon. Not wanting to be entirely at his mercy, you hovered above his lips, palms splayed against his cheeks as you took a deep breath and met his gaze without flinching. "So get to work, you're on a tight schedule."

His glossa was out the instant you finished the last syllable, allowing a cry to slip out of your open mouth as he swirled the tip over your lips to ease them open, delighting your folds with the hot, wet, hungry touch. Sharp dentae were bared beneath you as he spread you just the way you liked. Moaning and setting your hips heavily on his face, you were thankful for the locked door as you allowed yourself to get loud, letting him know just how good he was with your voice. The wetness that made you all the easier to open up was another clue he read and tasted quite eagerly.

You moaned his name as he used his massive size to his full advantage, pumping the length of his glossa up and down your soft folds to please you from clit to entrance, compelling you to ride him with your full weight to get more of the stimulation. More than strong enough to support you, he happily welcomed your efforts, looking more lost in his own ecstasy by the second. An approving purr rumbled all the way up your legs to make your world spin around you.

He shifted, and you caught his servo moving downwards in the corner of your eye. Following the movement, you watched in a fog of ecstasy as he opened his modesty plating to allow his spike to swing forth, smirking at how quickly it rose to its full size and throbbed with need. You'd clearly gotten him just as riled up as he'd gotten you…

A hot glossa sliding inside of you knocked the smugness off your face and replaced it with a helpless open mouthed cry of euphoria, your hips thrusting against him to help his reach go as deep as he pumped in and out of you at the perfect pace. Using his free servo to cup your back and press you down against him, his other pumped his spike rapidly enough to make you briefly concerned before a heavenly prodding of your sweet spot evaporated everything beyond obtaining release.

Weeks of being underappreciated and overworked had left you with plenty of tension for him to clear away, and you could almost feel it melting out of you as your orgasm began to build, hot ecstasy filling your body and compelling you to grab at his digits to keep yourself upright. Megatron tightened his grip around you in response, letting out a moan of his own at your lack of inhibitions. Sharing the pleasure only made it that much better for the both of you.

An aggressive swirling and sucking of your clit gave you everything you needed for an explosive orgasm, one you announced by throwing back your head with an admittedly theatrical cry. The response from the mech beneath you was as immediate as it was satisfying.

Watching you writhe in the euphoria he'd caused proved too much for the warrior, and he overloaded seconds after you, deep moans of satisfaction rumbling through you in perfect time to the throbs of your pussy. Between the vibrations and his glossa you saw stars and had to let him fully support your weight, shaking hands clinging to his digits as the both of you rode out your shared pleasure loudly enough to shake the berth below.

Thankfully Megatron had just enough sense and strength to adjust you when he finished painting his own chassis with his release, inching you back to his chin so he could get the greedy gulps of air necessary to cool his internals. Dizzy but satisfied, you had just enough clarity to giggle at the situation, pushing back some of the hair that had stuck to your sweat soaked forehead as you looked down to see if he was faring any better. Judging by his expression of nearly unconscious bliss, you considered the two of you to be doing equally well.

"Megs?" you pressed, leaning forward to pat his cheek. "You okay?"

"More than okay." he responded with a tiny chuckle, cracking open his optics to grin at your half naked form. Using his digits to haul yourself up on shaking legs, you settled for sitting back on your heels when they proved too weak to hold you upright, a very common occurrence after such sessions. Helping you sit more comfortably, he smiled with more softness than satisfaction. "I believe we both needed that."

"I still need to file my report, but I won't pretend I don't feel a lot better about it." you acknowledged with a stretch, far more limber than you'd been just a few minutes prior. Though you still needed to get your work done, this had proven an excellent use of your time, and you were about to say as much when a glance about turned up empty of a few critical items.

"Where are my pants?"

His exhaustion halved in an instant, devious sparkle returning to his optics as he used the most obviously mock voice of concern you'd ever heard. "I haven't the slightest idea." he purred with delight, making you pout at what an impossible pain in the ass he chose to be. He'd give them up eventually, you knew that from experience, but in the meantime you were going to have to deal with even more of him being impossible. You made your mild annoyance known with a raised brow and two hands on your hips, a reaction that only delighted him further. "I suppose you'll have to remain here with me after all."

"I still have my welder, you know." you said as you leaned forward on his face, trying not to crack a smile at his antics. You failed when he grinned and pulled you in, the adoration in his optics equal only to the amusement.

"That still makes it all the more appealing."

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, knowing but no longer caring that the reports would indeed be late. It wasn't like GHOST could screw you half as hard as he could.

#valveplug #transformers #lemon #maccadam #robot x human relations #tf #self insert #megatron #megatron x reader #human s/o #human reader #x reader #tf earthspark #transformers earthspark #earthspark #tfe #tfes #nsfw////#medic reader

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idesofrevolution · 2 years

Text

The Architect

It was supposed to be my magnum opus. Ravenswood- my last creation and my forever home. For years I had suffered and degraded myself in firms filled with peons who wouldn't know architectural integrity if it hit them on the nose, and when I finally finished that last project, it took all of fifteen minutes for me to type up my resignation and slap it on the boss' desk. I'd gotten the severance I'd worked nearly 31 years for, and had built up the name Drake Astramore to a prominent name in the business. Finally, I was free. Free to create unrestricted by the trivial boundaries set by those beneath me.

Work was slow in the beginning, my modern designs never seemed to convey the right mood or tone which I was seeking. Completely dejected, I resorted to corresponding with a peer of my own caliber who specialized in Eastlake-Tradition Victorian revival: James Lafreniere. The man was perhaps in his late 80's, far past his prime, but I did value his insight purely to help spur some sort of creative spark. He insisted on a large, rambling estate on a large plot just outside the city. He envisioned towers, stained glass, mahogany... some vacuous opulence that did not speak to my taste whatsoever. I was unconvinced, I saw Victorian architecture as tasteless fluff and ornamentation. Though, as old Mr. Lafreniere pushed, I suppose I did cave in quite a bit. His design was based on some sort of "sacred geometry" he'd studied while in Haiti some time ago. The man was a dog with a bone, frantically trying to persuade me into confirming his "spiritualist" idea for the house. The more he pressed, the less I firmly stood my ground. After all, I was happy with the layout he'd drafted and with my final additions and perfections to his concept, I was satisfied.

Thus, on that foggy winters day, a mere week or two since old Lafreniere was dead and buried, the house was nearing completion after nearly 13 months. I was coming in to do a final inspection, specifically confirming the four crystal chandeliers that were to be placed in the ballroom. Reynolds, the contractor I had hired, went radio silent two days prior, and I was eager to give him a modicum of advice on professionalism. As I pulled up to the antique wrought iron gates, I was perturbed to see them still chained tightly with a large padlock. I had no key, and had no response from Reynolds. Just as I prepared to go to the local hardware store to purchase a pair of bolt cutters, I saw a bulldozer slowly meandering up the gravel driveway through the dense fog. Perhaps Reynolds hadn't abandoned me as I'd thought. Exiting the car, I stood behind the iron gates as the machine came to a halt just on the other side. The door opened and instead of the middle aged potbelly which I had hired, a young man with a peculiar look in his eye exited the vehicle and sat on the steps of the machine.

"Who are you?" The young man glibly chided from his perch.

"What the hell do you mean who am I? I am the owner of this property. Who are you?" He sat idly staring me up and down, some flippant smirk forming slowly on his face. He hopped down, his massive rubber boots landing in a puddle, splashing muddy water up and down his clothes.

"Mr. Astramore, I was wondering if I'd ever get to meet you in person." He sauntered over to the gates, unlocking the heavy padlock as the gates creaked open on their own. I hadn't recalled requesting hydraulic automation on the main gate, but I assumed incorrectly that it was part of the system I'd purchased. "The name is Jimmy. Reynolds proved to be... unreliable on the job. So the company sent me as a replacement. I'm surprised you hadn't heard."

"I most certainly have not heard. I should like to have known about staffing changes. He has completely ignored me for days now." The man looked down, chuckling under his breath.

"Yeah. The guy just up and left one day. Never called the company or anything. Just poof. Vanished." Contractors. The bane of every architect. Unreliable thieves, the lot of them. This young man certainly mimicked that aura of untrustworthiness, but as the job was nearly complete, I preferred at the time to simply allow him to finish. "The house is ready for you, sir. Take this, please let me know if you need anything from me, I'll be finishing the landscaping for the raingardens today." He pulled off a two-way radio from his belt, handing it to me. I could smell the putrid scent of hard labor wafting from him as I snatched the muddy radio from his sweaty hands.

"That will be fine, James." I huffed as I got back into my car, beginning the two minute trek up the driveway toward the house. As I passed him, I could see the filthy worker smile at me. There was something off about his presence, though at the time I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Again, I believe it was his eyes. So familiar, as if I'd known them myself for a time. As I left him behind in the dust of the gravel, I promised myself I would launch a complaint against these unprofessional ruffians the moment I could.

After weaving past the carefully planned and restored bayous, the white tower proudly peeked from above the tree canopy. The woodlands cleared and before me stood the massive edifice that was Ravenswood. It was primed white, awaiting the final paint job in dark greens and black which I had demanded. Yet another setback I was not looking forward to enduring. The elaborate trim graced the balconies and verandas which were perfectly calculated to receive the ideal amount of sun and shade during the hot Louisiana summers. Each glazed window was placed to maximize natural light in the house's otherwise dark confines. Perhaps Lafreniere was right- this was my masterpiece.

I put the car in park, and exited the vehicle. I stood and marveled at the house. On paper, it was grand and idyllic. In person, however, it took on a very different aura. Dark clouds and fog seemed to hang around the house, giving it a distinct sense of foreboding which I had not intended. Knowing funds were scarce as is, it was too late to change anything. This was to be my forever home, shortcomings and perfections alike. Pressing against the front doors, I entered the main hall, then aglow from the stained glass window and edison-bulb-illuminated chandelier. Lafreniere assured me that the house would be sufficiently lit, and that no dark corners would find their way into it's winding halls. I was disappointed beyond words to see that it was not the case.

The house seemed to breathe with a cold draft that whipped around the walls, just strong enough to notice, but not enough to disturb. While it was certainly built to my specifications, Ravenswood took on an identity of it's own before my eyes as it stood before me. Grumbling under my breath, I began my inspection.

Room by room, I went about with my clipboard and checklist. Bronze lightplates, check. Mahogany waiscotting, check. Brass and crystal chandeliers, check. From the library to the conservatory, the drawing room to the gallery; each room was just as I designed it, yet it seemed inundated with some indescribable weight which I had anticipated from the beginning. My modern, airy, open concept home which I had originally envisioned slowly simmered into flames before my own eyes. It was magnificent, yes. The house dripped character and ethereal essence from every nook and cranny. But was it an Astramore home? Certainly not.

Looking back, I should have left. I should have tossed the clipboard onto the dark herringbone parquet floors and stomped back to my car- back to the safety and comfort of my car. I should have driven away like a bat out of hell from this place and never returned. Yet, in my arrogance, I believed I could salvage it somehow. Thus, it was in that moment, as I was checking the finials on the grand staircase that I heard it. Groaning. Ever so quiet, yet echoing throughout the cavernous halls. I looked above me, my eyes tracking the noise further and further up the staircase onto the third floor. I assumed that it was emanating from the observatory in the main tower, though how I could have possibly known that I still do not know. I ascended the steps, slowly at first, toward the sound. Every creaking floorboard perturbed me, a new construction shouldn't behave as if it had stood for over a hundred years. This growing rage at the destruction of my vision translated directly into a quickening pace. My body seemingly did the work for me as I climbed faster, eventually skipping steps on my way to the high observatory.

Blinded by anger, I could not see the various shapes and figures which I had blown past on the landings, the dark shadows waiting in the corners and cornices. Every ounce of my being was focused entirely on releasing this pent up aggression, built within myself over decades, on whatever pathetic creature dared to whine within my walls. Arriving on the final landing, I burst through the door with the last of my strength.

The shutters in the observatory were drawn and shut, the unfinished plaster and floorboards were illuminated only by the dull light from the stairwell behind me. There, in the center of the room and crouched like a devious little gremlin was some degenerate young man. Tattoos sprawled across his lean body, and his greasy mop of hair obscured his line of sight. The man shielded his face from the gleaming light, as if burned by it's glow. His pants and shoes were weathered and well worn; scuffed, torn, and stained from what I can only assume was some ill-begotten lifestyle of antisocial youths.

"Get out!" I shouted at the boy, as he cowered on the sawdust-laden floor. His hand slowly retracted from his face, revealing what he was trying to conceal. Upon his inked face were two fully black eyes, which seemed to suck the remnants of light straight out of the room. They were empty, cold, and devious. This thing was not of this world, it was not of God, it was not of nature. I stood there, frozen in place as he stood up, easily a height of over 6 feet tall. My hairs stood on end, as he smiled down at me. I turned to run, but as I did, I was confronted by the grinning visage of Jimmy.

"Going somewhere, Astramore?" His eyes were black as night, just like the creature behind me. I couldn't speak, any word I tried to mutter was caught in my throat and merely exited as gasping utterances. Two icy cold hands slowly wrapped around my gut. I could only let out a whimper as I was sharply pulled back into the room as Jimmy leaned against the doorframe, his arms and ankles crossed comfortably as if nothing was out of place.

Tossed down onto the ground, my extremities pulled in every which direction as if bound by invisible leather straps. My clothes were ripped from my body, leaving me vulnerable and cold in the nude. The thing circled me like a predator observing it's prey. I thrashed against my constraints, spitting insults and threats with the last of my energy. I should have realized the intent of their misdeeds then and there. Blinded yet again, and for the last time by my own rage, I could not see... they were exhausting me. My strength depleted, my nerves shot, I was a mere shell of myself. This was their moment.

The thing stood above me, straddling my bony torso, as he slowly lowered himself atop me. With his cold fingers, nails black and skin dirty, he gripped the bottom of my chin, prying my mouth open. With a momentum far beyond the order of nature, his hand plowed directly into my open maw. It seemed to contract in on itself, as if he were not solid, but rather in a plasmic state of matter. As it squirmed deeper into my throat, the second hand fed itself into the orifice with ease. It felt as if I were drowning, yet could still breathe. It flowed like slime inside of me, pooling into my expanding stomach. I could hear myself gurgling and choking on him as his head squeezed into my mouth, the miasmic odor of unwashed manscent wafting from his acrid form. He slithered his entire form within me, my gut protruding more and more with his writhing shape beneath my stretching skin. As his lower half finally slid past my tongue, I could feel the rough texture of his denim pants scratch against my esophagus, I could taste the sweaty leather of his musky battered sneakers brush on my tongue until the last of the rubber sole slipped into my mouth; disappearing into my body.

Within me, I could feel him breathing. Expanding and contracting from beneath my skin. I could just barely cock my head down enough to see my grotesquely inflated midsection wriggling and pulsating. There was no pain, only tightness and fullness inside. From the doorway, Jimmy had lowered his coveralls down to his boots, pulled his rancid jockstrap to his knees, and was pleasuring himself with manic fervor. Whatever was happening to me was nothing short of pornography for him, he savored every moment with bated breath. Though I had no time to dwell on such displays of vulgarity and immorality. As quickly as the thing had entered me, it began to spread.

I cocked my head toward my arm, as I watched the protruding outline of the thing's hand slowly snake towards my own from under my skin. I could see it's added mass inflate my musculature as it slid effortlessly past my elbow and up my forearm. It's fingers pushed into mine like a hollow latex glove. His stature considerably larger than mine, I could see my entire arm stretch outward, and his own muscles falling into place within mine. In just a few seconds, my arm had grown, large biceps and colorful tattoos seeping up through my dermis until it was unrecognizable. I observed it in horror as I felt my second arm endure the same process, though my gaze was thoroughly cemented at the strong, youthful, virile arm which once was mine.

My legs soon followed suit, my thighs ballooning outward with firm slabs of muscle as the outline of the thing's massive feet barreled down toward my own. Hairs sprung up like weeds across my inflating calves and quadriceps, until I could feel the slimy pressure of his foot sliding into mine. My body again stretched to accommodate his frame, feeling the soles of my massive sweating feet slide across the hardwood floor until it was finally fully in place. My toes wriggled against my will. A stirring in my groin, and my worn hands pawing at my privates signaled his insertion there as well. Every slick sweaty pump of my member seemed to thrust his into mine further and further. It was quickly engorged, thick and dripping with pre as my balls swelled with his thick, unholy seed. The foreskin tightened around my tip, slick and dripping, and there was then only one part of me left that was untouched.

I could feel him pressing up my throat. It's head firmly making it's way up my esophagus, his face protruding from beneath my sweating skin. There was no fight left in me, all I could do was close my eyes and pray that oblivion was not as empty as I had assumed. With the very last of my strength giving way, there was no resistance as it's head shot up into my skull. Everything went dark almost immediately, there was no light, and an atonal ringing in my ears distorted the squelching and cracking noises I could faintly hear as it adjusted my face atop his. Feeling his plasmic form beneath mine, integrating itself into every possible crevice, nook, and space; it was maddening. I felt myself begin to drift away... disconnected from my corporeal tether. The last thing I could see before I finally wasted away into the unknown was my blurred reflection in the mirror, a face no longer my own, merely a shadow of who I once was. I bitterly accepted this fate. I let him have that sweaty, smelly, vulgar body... it was all his. The lights went out, and all was silent.

----

New Orleans Tribune, December 20th, 2022:

Local Architect Declared Dead After Week Long Search Efforts

Recent attempts to locate Drake Astramore (69) of Thibodaux have been called off by New Orleans authorities after a week of searching through the architect's sprawling estate. Neighbors to the gated complex reported faint screams coming from within the mansion, even from a 1/4 mile away, which led investigators to deliver a search warrant to the residence.

Upon arrival, authorities were met with the groundskeeper of the premises, James Lafreniere (25), who explained Astramore had disappeared during a routine inspection of the mansion, which was at the time nearing completion:

"He was only in there for a few hours. I wish I knew what could have happened to the guy. But I am so glad that his son has decided to take up the torch on the house. It wasn't all for nothing, then."

While Astramore had no family to speak of, the few who knew him personally described him as "difficult" and "degrading," often going to far lengths to place himself above others. In fact, a number of former coworkers at architecture firm Guillory, Darensbourg, & Combs alluded to mysterious dealings with an unidentified elderly man during the design phase of his home, described as having a "dark energy" about him. While there is no evidence to support foul play at this time, investigators have not ruled out furthering their analysis into these claims.

As for Ravenswood Estate, it has now fallen into the hands of the missing architect's son, Drake Astramore II (27). A self-proclaimed "spiritualist," the young man plans to give tours of the sprawling mansion dedicated to the mysterious and unusual process of design of Ravenswood. Joining with his partner in business and in life, James Lafreniere, the duo intend on opening a bed and breakfast type model for the horror inclined.

"I didn't know my pop all that much, he never really acknowledged me or anything. But I'm happy to show the world what he created. This place is special, it was designed to be special. There's an magnetism here that gathers together the essences of many, many of the dearly departed. If you don't believe me, come take a look. I'm happy to show you around. I guarantee you'll leave a completely changed person."